Nowruz President Obama Celebrates Persian Holiday Nowruz IN ARABIC

This is an interesting perspective from a President whom has noticeably changed his attitude toward Iran and its leadership in the last 12 months.  I am not terribly active in following these events-however, from time to time I get an earful from my dad.  That is also especially odd since I really don't think he considers me a fellow Iranian.  Anyway, he showed me this clip, and I noticed as he watched and listened, there were tears forming in his eyes.  At that moment, it could have been a clip on people protesting peanuts, and I would have found it compelling.

Oh how I love it when....

Some of my life's greatest and simple pleasures:

• taking your ski boot off at the end of the day


• making every green light when you are in a hurry


• finding a great parking spot


• when there is no wait/no lines


• when something is on sale-and there is actually one in your size


• losing weight and not trying to


• a clean house


• fresh sheets


• a warm sunny day-with blue skies


• sleeping in


• sound of children laughing


• old friends


• new friends


• volunteering in my kids' classrooms-and knowing all the kids' names


• new socks


• warm blankets at the hospital


• actually finding something in the lost and found-seriously-now often does that really happen?


• bacon


• when I hear the garage open, and I know it's Paul


• cooking something that people really enjoy


• the smell of rain


• finding money in your pockets

Do I make you proud?

Children-regardless of gender or age, long to be someone their parents are proud of, or at the very least, not ashamed of. My mom is what I consider unconditional love in my life. Since the day I met her, she has had an open heart and an open mind. She has accepted my flaws and celebrated my strengths. She is my biggest fan-she will laugh with me, cry with me, and everything in between. Essentially, she is what love always meant to me. I have never really felt that way when it comes to my dad. I have never felt like I lived up to his standards, I doubt I ever will. No amount of money, no level of education, no accomplishments can ever measure up.

I was at Jackson's basketball party last Friday night. I was talking with Hunter's dad, Azeem. He and I share similar coloring (dark hair, dark eyes). We were talking about our heritage and what made our coloring so unique. He, like most people who meet me, would never have guessed Iranian-and first generation at that-heck, I lived there. And for the first time in my life, I realized, I was remorseful to the point of ashamed that no one can ever believe I am Iranian. And it occurred to me that I have effectively erased that part of my identity.

I spent so many years of my childhood wishing it away-the times I remember wishing I was Italian or Greek or Spanish-which are what most people think I am today when they meet me. I remember getting married and being so thrilled to get rid of my maiden name (Haddad). I have lost the ability to communicate in Farsi-although I spoke it fluently when I was 3 and stopped speaking when we moved back to the US when I was 7. Those are prime years to learn to speak, read, write, etc. There is no reason I should not be able to still communicate. I have zero friends that are Iranian. I have always felt like a black sheep (along with my brother, sister and mother) when it comes to the Haddad side of the family.

My father was someone I resented most of my childhood. He was always angry-never seemed happy or even present unless we were with other people that he was putting a show on for. He was hyper critical, he seemed to really hate my mom-and the three of us as well. Looking back, I don't think he was a kids kind of guy. I think his cross cultural marriage and subsequent offspring caused him great sorrow in life. I believe he should have married an Iranian woman and had perfect Iranian children. He resented us more and more as the years went on. He would not speak Farsi to us-that is when he even spoke to us. I remember he would get so angry when we talked at the dinner table, which is odd now that I have a family-it's one of the things I enjoy the most is hearing about their day. It seemed an easy and natural transition to eliminate the Iranian part of my being. My family from Iran certainly didn't care to include me-my own father didn't even consider me part of his culture or his family.

And that brings me to today, at 41, I find it very sad that I have eradicated that part of my heritage almost completely. I am sure through the eyes of a young child, the perceptions and the reality of the situation are rather far apart. But I do know this, growing up feeling unloved and unwanted has a lot to do with the way I tucked my culture away-never to let it come out again.

You are More

There's a girl in the corner With tear stains on her eyes

From the places she's wandered And the shame she can't hide

She says, "How did I get here? I'm not who I once was.

And I'm crippled by the fear That I've fallen too far to love

"But don't you know who you are, What's been done for you?

Yeah don't you know who you are?

You are more than the choices that you've made,

You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,

You are more than the problems you create,

You've been remade.

Well she tries to believe it That she's been given new life

But she can't shake the feeling That it's not true tonight

She knows all the answers And she's rehearsed all the lines

And so she'll try to do better But then she's too weak to try

But don't you know who you are?

You are more than the choices that you've made,

You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,

You are more than the problems you create,

You've been remade.

You are more than the choices that you've made

You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,

You are more than the problems you create,

You've been remade.

'Cause this is not about what you've done, But what's been done for you.

This is not about where you've been, But where your brokenness brings you to

This is not about what you feel, But what He felt to forgive you,

And what He felt to make you loved.

You are more than the choices that you've made,

You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,

You are more than the problems you create,

You've been remade

You've been remade

You've been remade

Now I can't take credit for this post-my dear sweet friend Carrie posted it to me on Facebook. It's things like these that remind me that God is watching, He is listening-and He is responding. These lyrics moved me. It is so easy to make everything about me-especially when I am feeling guilt and fear and saddness. But then I think about the big picture (with a little help-thank you Carrie); and it puts comfort where I have fear, it gives me relief where I have worry and peace where I have intense strife and self-hatred. I don't have to look hard-it's all around me. We are all battling and making our way there

This week in Bible Study, the book of Isiah had a verse that really gripped me:This is our everlasting God! Our Creator! He never weakens or grows weary. None of us can comprehend the depth of His righteousness. It is this powerful and mighty God who sees us and hears us! He gives us strength when we feel weak and empowers us when we are tired and worn out. Yes, “Those who wait upon the LORD will find new strength. They will fly high like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” – Isaiah 40:31

Giving me strength when I feel weak...ok, I just want to come out and say, I am really feeling tired and worn out. I feel so weak and it does not feel like I could run. But then I hear this song, and I read this verse. And I realized-I don't have to. And what a relief.

The path less traveled

I love this saying. This path has changed for me many times in the seasons of my life. I expect that it will again and again. Currently the path I am on, is one of redemption. I want so badly to be a good example to my kids, a good wife, a good friend. I have failed at all of those things. And mostly because I took the easier path-the one that's more traveled.

I am reminded of the famous words of Lt. Col. Frank Slade from his 1992 Oscar award winning performance in "Scent of a Woman"

Now I have come to the cross-roads in my life. I always knew what the right path was. Without exception, I knew, but I never took it. You know why? It was too damn hard.

I was 22 years old when I saw that movie. I thought I understood what he meant. I had no idea. Today, at 40, I understand. I, too, have taken the wrong path at times in my life-knowing exactly what the right path was. And yes, it was a lot easier. And now, I am dealing with the aftermath. Oh, there is always a consequence. I just have to keep at it, and stay on my path...

Why does it taste so bad?

I have never really questioned why remedies (medicines, shots, etc) taste so awful. They are just a means to an end. Vaccines, innoculations, surgeries, dental work. It all hurts-and for the same purpose: getting better. Another application, in my life specifically, would be exercising. Certainly it does not always feel good-while you are doing it-not even after all the time...but in time, results will favor those that stick through the pain. Childbirth is a another great example. An epideral is a great alternative to labor pains-but it sure isn't painless or pleasant. Often, trading a short term, painful, remedy, for long term sustainable results is just the path you have to take.

So, this is starting to sound like one of Paul's papers for his MBA..that's a whole other blog. But getting a degree/diploma/certificate is also something that can painstaking and slow-and void of short term gains. What am I getting at? Life is constantly reminding me that when I am faced with a tough situation-especially something rather painful, I need to hold on, have a little patience, perserverance and tolerance. Most of the time-if I survive, I will be better for it. One big paraphrase for "that which does not kill me makes me strong"

Bible Study

Okay, I will admit, the idea of going to Bible study did not exactly appeal to me before. That is, before the first one I went to-which was last fall (Aug 2010). It was with Beth Moore, and we studied the book of Daniel. Honestly, I went because my good friend Carrie told me she was doing it, and I felt more comfortable going with someone I know.

Carrie is one of those people that I just enjoy every minute with, and even when I feel like the worst person in the world, I just believe that her heart has room for me. I just don't feel like she would ever judge me or look down on me-even if she knew the worst. And it's hard to explain why. When she and I met, I remember thinking we were the most unlikely of friends. Our kids (her daughter, Grace, and my Jackson) were in kindegarten together. She seemed a bit reserved and even a little unfriendly. I realized quickly she was just shy and unsure of herself like the rest of us. Ever since that year, I have been lucky enough that our kids have been in the same class, so she and I have been able to grow closer and closer. And it always feels so simple/easy-she is just a kind soul, a good spirit and a warm heart. I love that she is as sensitive as I am ( I am certain she is as much of a crier in movies and sad stories), and she loves her kids and is committed to being a Christian-I look up to her. And even with all the things we have in common, we are so different as people. It's what makes our friendship that much richer I guess. I just love her. In any case, I would never have done the bible study without her, but I am infinately grateful to her.

I felt so intimated-even with Carrie (my comfort zone) there with me. I don't know the bible that well, I have not always been a good Christian. I looked around the room and saw all these beautiful people who seemed to be such good Christians. But as we progressed, and I listened to what Beth Moore had to say, it occurred to me that I was right where I was supposed to be. In fact, when Paul asked me one day why I was going, and what was I trying to prove-or fake even. I thought to myself-this is exactly where the broken go. Bible study isn't for people who are perfect, and if it were, no one would be there. Oh, I'm sure those lofty, judgemental types are there. But I know they don't get as much out of it as people like me. About five or six weeks into it, I sat there and realized that maybe 10 or 20 years ago, I would not have understood a lot of this. That is, not enough had happened in my life for me to understand the types of trials and pains that Beth described. The kind that Daniel endured, the kind that Christ endured. Beth talked about the down times in her life-times when she made mistakes. When I was much younger, I would have looked at my 40 year old self and thought-what a total idiot and a loser. But know, I understand that I have lived long enough to see both sides of life. I am just like everybody else; with all my imperfections. And there is still a place where I can go and feel like it's all okay. So often, I will be in a room filled with people and think-if these people really knew the things I have done....I don't even deserve to be here. I just feel like the worst person around. But then I remember these 2 or so hour sessions I have been to, and it feels like I am worth saving. Like other people might even feel like that too.

Am I the Bible study "type" No...I am not. But then, no one really is. And I love when I am there. I love hearing Beth Moore talk about human beings, and how none of us has it all together all the time. It is a journey. We will have good days and bad days. We will be tested. I know that a lot of the tough times in my life come along souly to remind me that it is worth it-I am worth it. And I just have to keep on going.....