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Rebecca C. Gonzalez

Rebecca C. Gonzalez

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    Same Words, New Home - Grit & Grace

    This little corner of the internet has felt a little one-sided for the last year or so (me no likey), so I’ve been looking for ways to make it more interactive, curating a space that’s more conversation and less monologue in a microphone. I may have found a solution. Starting in the next week or two, you’ll notice a few changes to my blog and newsletter as I move it over to Substack. This platform provides the option for us to not only comment and interact with each other, but also to archive and access older issues of grit & grace notes so you don’t have to dig through your inbox, in case you miss a few. The biggest change is this site – www.grit-andgrace.com – will no longer be the space where any new words or updates from me will be published. Here’s what will be the same: all issues of grit & grace notes will come right to your inbox every week to two weeks (keeping that publishing schedule a little flexible right now). You don’t need to do a thing. You’ll still get the same weekly/bi-weekly content, as well as other writing/book updates, and longer-form essays and articles as those are published. BUT if you want to add to the discussion or access old issues, those will be there waiting for you as well. I’m really excited about this change, and I hope it adds value to your inbox. Click the link below to give the new format a sneak peek grit & grace notes preview Here at the intersection of the grit and grace of faith,Becky If you find my words meaningful and would like to support my work, you can do so here or here with my deepest gratitude. Remember – God uses the grit and grace to grow us beautifully!

    2 min readArticlesFaith
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    Releasing the Need for Perfection - Grit & Grace

    Perfectionism is a poison that pretends to be a vitamin. Jon Acuff I have stopped and started this post several times. Sure, I can blame a few things – distraction, busyness, procrastination. I know the biggest culprit, though. Perfectionism. I mean, in order for me to write, it’s got to be a certain way. It’s also got to be a certain topic, appeal to a certain audience, have a certain word count, and so on and so forth, ad nauseam. Hello writer’s block. It turns out that writer’s block for me isn’t really writer’s block. It’s just me getting bogged down in perfectionism. And by the way, getting bogged down in perfectionism isn’t just a part of my writing. It tries to weasel its way into everything I do. I know what you’re thinking. “What’s wrong with wanting to do things the right way?” Absolutely nothing. But when my desire for perfection becomes a need for perfection, it wreaks havoc on my expectations, which leads to bitterness and resentment, which in turn wreaks havoc on my relationship with myself and others. “Every expectation is resentment waiting to happen.” Anne Lamott This quote has so resonated with me. I heard it during one of our most recent The Enneagram Journey sessions. My friends at The Enneagram Workshop have been hosting this course, and it has been such a breath of fresh air. My daughter and I have been traveling through this recent leg of our Enneagram journey together, which has been a great opportunity for some one-on-one time with my teen. This course has taught me so much about myself and others. My goal in taking the class was to gain a deeper appreciation, understanding, and compassion for others who see and respond to life differently than I do. That objective has been more than met. I’ve also gained a deeper appreciation, understanding, and compassion for myself and how I see and respond to life. Giving me eyes to see. As a Type 1 Perfectionist and Reformer, here are some of the ways I see and respond to life: there is an inner critic that is constantly berating me harshly. because of this, I have a general feeling of not being worthy or good enough. my judging and comparing mind searches for perfection, what “should” and “must” be. my search for perfection does not mean I’m looking for flaws. I kind of just see them. They stick out to me, and I can’t NOT see them. I LOVE to-do lists. I see things in black and white, with little to no gray. being afraid of making mistakes, I procrastinate. There’s that word procrastinate again. I always thought of my procrastination as laziness. Although that may be what’s behind it occasionally, when I strip it all away, it’s fear that usually drives it. The fear of messing up, of making mistakes, of not being good enough. What would it look like to release the need for perfection? What would that give me space for? Writing prompts are helpful for me. They help bring order to a sometimes muddled and disordered thought life. I don’t know if I can fully answer the questions above. I guess I’m still working on those answers. Releasing the need for perfection starts with recognizing that it is unattainable. Being perfect is not a task I am meant to achieve. It is not my burden to carry. That makes for a far more peaceful and less resentful, more graceful and grace-filled Becky. This has made space for incredible freedom in my life. See, if a person does not need to be perfect to be good, then that person can surrender their compulsive need for perfection. My goodness can not and never will come from my being perfect, which is not a goal I can meet anyway, so I don’t have to try to be perfect anymore. My need for perfection has been refined, and in its place a desire for excellence has been revealed. A desire that was knit within me by the only perfect one; by the one who thought that desire was a good great idea, and worthy to be loved. “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.” Philippians 4:8 Sweet glorious freedom. Grit and grace. Are you a perfectionist? Do you love excellence? What are some ways you have released that need for perfection?

    5 min readArticlesSpiritual Awareness & Enlightenment
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    Lessons Learned at Breakfast - Grit & Grace

    “There has never been a sadness that can’t be cured by breakfast food.” Ron Swanson Breakfast of champions. I’m not really into breakfast. Let me clarify: I am not really into breakfast, but I am REALLY into breakfast food. I’m just not very hungry first thing in the morning most of the time. For as long as I can remember, my desire to break my fast usually doesn’t happen until closer to what most people consider that snack-before-lunch time. I’m a creature of habit, with most days starting with a smoothie at around 10amish, so having a BIG breakfast is considered quite an event for me. All that to say that I rarely get together with others for breakfast. Morning or afternoon cup of coffee? Yes, most definitely. However, a couple of months ago, I found myself with a rare opportunity to have a more-than-smoothie breakfast with a dear friend. She was visiting from out of town, as she does just about every summer, which made breaking my fast with a big breakfast out extra-special. L and I have been friends since the third grade. Third grade was a really long time ago, by the way. About 4 decades ago, to be exact. To say we’ve been through some stuff together would be an understatement. Apples and oranges. Similarities and differences – the apples and oranges of any relationship. As we sat there catching up and enjoying our breakfast, something struck me in a way I had never noticed before. You see, the common ground we were finding as friends was intentional. As people, L and I have many similarities, with almost as many differences. Our similarities didn’t make for great conversation, and neither did our differences. Our similarities and differences haven’t determined the longevity of our relationship either. Instead, it has been the beautifully infused combination of the two, which has been one of the key components of our friendship all these years. We’ve met each other where we’re at, both literally and figuratively, over the course of our relationship. L and I have similar family, ethnic, and cultural backgrounds. We grew up attending the same schools, including college and university studies. We even graduated with the same undergraduate major. With all the similarities, though, there were plenty of differences to go around. She was into sports early on, and I didn’t discover my heart for sports and fitness until adulthood. I stopped at just a Bachelor’s Degree in Psychology, while she continued on through to earn a PsyD. Different seasons. Different trials. Different choices. Different journeys. Differences. Our common ground has been forged through the ups and downs of a long history in relationship together. A long history of being there through thick and thin, of meeting each other where we’re at no matter where that is. Food for thought. Our relationship has been a great example of what a profound effect that can have over the course of a lifetime. Sitting together for breakfast that morning, it dawned on me that our differences hadn’t really gone away. In fact, we’ve had a whole new set of differences come up in adulthood. We don’t meet each other at our differences: work from home mom versus work outside the home mom, public school education for the kids versus home education, living in New York versus living in Florida. We don’t meet each other at our similarities, either. We simply meet each other where we’re at, which includes a colorful combination of both – what we have in common, and what we don’t. We listened. We shared openly. We laughed. There were questions, challenges, and stuff that we agreed to disagree on. Honesty. Kindness. Encouragement. Similarities. Differences. It all gets washed away and mashed together to form something radically different. Intentional common ground. What you have in common, what you don’t have in common, they kind of just disappear when you simply choose to focus on the person sitting in front of you. The person just as they are. This gives me fresh faith for the relationships where meeting each other where we’re at is still difficult. I guess breakfast really can be the most important meal of the day.

    5 min readFriendshipJournals
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    When Words Wane: the Sequel - Grit & Grace

    What to write when you don’t know what to write. I’ve been here before. Man, have I been here before. Writing prompts. Ideas I’ve jotted down over the past week or so. The hope*writers exercise I mentioned a little over a month ago in part 1 of When Words Wane. Nothing. It’s Monday evening, and the time I’ve set aside to work on my weekly post is here. Time to just sit and let some words flow. It doesn’t need to be profound. The words don’t need to be especially witty. I mean, I’d like for them to make some sort of sense. But honestly, I just need to write. The magic happens when you just hunker down and do what you’re supposed to do. When no clear topic makes its way from my heart to my head and out through my fingers typing on a keyboard, I am tempted to forget why I’m doing this in the first place. As I sit here (now on Wednesday morning), I remember the commitment I made. The nudge from God that started as a whisper in my heart, which has turned into shouts from a megaphone on most days. Sharing my journey as I find my way running this race of life, hoping to encourage others along the way. It happens one step at a time. Some days, it’s a grace-filled step, and many other days, it’s a gritty step. I find that most days are a funky combination of both. Grit: the sharp and hard places in life that are designed to make me stronger. Grace: the unmerited kindness from God that strengthens me for the journey in a totally different way, while giving me the opportunity to extend that grace to myself and others, which in turn, helps the grit seem not so gritty. A race filled with grit and grace: it’s not just one or the other as I travel towards the finish line. The race of a lifetime. The race of my lifetime. “If you give me the words, Lord, I’ll share them.” These are the words I’ve been given, and so these are the words I’m sharing. “NO EDITING AS I WRITE.” One of my biggest takeaways from a recent online writing class I attended. Thinking that my words need to be profound holds me back. Thinking about potential response (or lack thereof) holds me back, and influences what words I let flow, and even what I decide to share. Editing as I go, and trying to get the ideas just right holds me back. All of these things stifle the writing process and gets in the way of this precious calling I’ve been given. Just write, Becky. You can edit after you’re done. Days have passed, and I still don’t have a clearer picture as to what I’m supposed to write about for this week’s post. I mean, I guess that’s okay. Writing makes way for more writing, and so my hope is that as I sit here writing the next thing that comes to mind, that an idea will begin to form. Hopefully, an idea that with time will bring forth some clarity and direction. Not yet. Not knowing what to write produced over 500 words this time. Imagine what will happen once I know.

    4 min readArticlesEncouragement
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    This Week in Backseat Driving - Grit & Grace

    It’s been a little busy around here, and I’ve been a bit of a hot mostly happy mess in the process. So much so that I haven’t been able to write much of anything until just a few days ago. In the past week, one daughter completed testing and registration at our local community college as a dual-enrollment student. She’s hoping to earn high school and college credit for her final two years of high school. This August will be our her first semester, and she’s we’re pretty excited. Two days after her registration, that same daughter had oral surgery, bringing with it our her first experience with general anesthesia. This past week of rest and recovery has been a sweet time of keeping her as comfortable as possible while watching copious amounts of Parks and Recreation and Gilmore Girls. We just went to our post-op appointment this morning and all is well! Yesterday, we finally started on some work that needed to be done on the school room ceiling because of some water leak issues we’ve been having for months. So all the furniture is out (and relocated along the walls of our living and dining room, among other places), along with the ceiling. Now to wait for a strong enough rain to reveal where the leaks are coming from, and then hopefully repair them and put a fresh ceiling back up. Which brings me to this afternoon, and some news that has rocked my world in such a wonderful way. My 18 year old son got his driver’s license. Yep, you read that right: my 18 year old. Now, that may not seem like a very big deal to you. Those who know me, and especially those who know my son, might have a better idea as to why this is such a huge accomplishment. Some would call him a late bloomer. I know I’ve often thought of him in that way. Over time, I’ve grown to REALLY dislike that word, and am pretty ashamed of how often I’ve felt that about him throughout the years. Comparing where he was based on where others were, or where they thought he should be. Thinking he was “late” based on someone else’s standards, instead of seeing how fearfully and wonderfully he met God’s standards, exactly as he was and is. My cautious and extremely methodical young man takes his time. Even before he was born (my labor with him was induced at 41 weeks), he will never be in a huge rush. It took him forever to learn how to walk. It took him even longer to learn how to speak and articulate in ways that others would be able to understand him. The first time he had a conversation with someone other than me WITHOUT needing me to translate for him took my breath away. He was probably about 8 or 9 years old at the time. And yes, I was a hot mostly happy mess on that day too. There is so much more I can say about the journey towards achieving each of his many milestones. Suffice it to say, it has been the roller coaster ride of a lifetime. I’m not really a huge Wikipedia fan, but I really appreciated this definition I found on their site: “A late bloomer is a person whose talents or capabilities are not visible to others until later than usual.” Later than usual. What is usual is what is expected. Usual is ordinary. My son has brought me such unexpected joy through all the struggles, and he is anything but ordinary. Being a late bloomer sounds pretty amazing when you look at it that way. Well, I’m off to pick up my youngest (she is at the first of two birthday parties she is attending this week), who is doing her best to keep me as busy as my other two kiddos have done this past week. I’d love to know your thoughts: What do the words late bloomer mean to you? Were you a late bloomer growing up, or are you currently parenting one? What’s been helpful/unhelpful on your journey?

    5 min readJournalsJoyStruggle & Pain
  • avatarRebecca C. Gonzalez

    Working For Yourself = Working For Others - Grit & Grace

    “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” Philippians 2:3-4 My journey as a writer has taken many twists and turns over the years. This most recent phase has included quite a few opportunities to experience something totally new: contributing writing projects towards someone else’s publication. Although writing for others may have slowed down the launch of my own site by a few months, it has provided (and I’m sure will continue to provide) so many opportunities for growth and learning. Feedback from editors has been a key component to that growth. Having deadlines has been incredibly helpful too. Viewing my writing from someone else’s perspective has helped to expand my goals. These opportunities have reminded me that keeping others in mind should be a cornerstone in any work we do for ourselves. We can be so self-consumed in our daily lives, can’t we? Our goals, our priorities, and our to-do list take center stage. Yes, I must place the oxygen mask over my own face before I try to help others breathe. That’s a rule during flight emergencies that is very valid for daily life too. I get that. I can’t keep that oxygen mask on my face forever, though. I must take it off to help others. I must take the focus off of myself to help others; to work as a team and ensure someone else’s success. The work for Miami Moms Blog and others has been a highlight of my writing the past few months. You could say it’s been a breath of fresh air for this writer – #punintended . I’ll be sharing links to those in this space from time to time. It seems only fitting that I share last month’s intro post from Miami Moms Blog. My first time contributing on someone else’s site. Click on the photo below and you’ll be taken to it. Here’s to the unexpected gifts looking to the interests of others can bring!

    3 min readUncategorized
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    And Away We Go - Grit & Grace

    Well, here I go. This is it. This is the beginning of yet another blog. It might be terrific. It might also be terrible. It is definitely incredibly terrifying. Regardless, I’m pretty sure it’s also going to be magical. And the only way to find the magic is to start writing, so here we go. Would it shock you to know that I have had this site since January of this year? Almost five months have gone by. I’ve been busy: waiting, planning, researching, getting distracted, and trying to get things just right before I started. What blog format do I want? Should I go with a more traditional site? How often should I write? What font style should I pick? Who is my target audience? What should my first post be about? Asking questions before undertaking a new task is not necessarily a bad thing. I know that for me, the paralysis of analysis is often the culprit for not doing that next thing I know I need to do. Old habits are hard to break, so postponing the official launch of this blog until I had everything “just right” was a well-worn path and trap I easily fell into. My steps may be clearly marked out for me, but fear and a desire to control all. the. things. makes it hard to see clearly on my journey. So here is my attempt at NOT trying to craft a perfect blog launch post. I hope you find encouragement to run your race here. Here’s the next step in my journey… The journey of a recovering perfectionist. The journey of a recovering people-pleaser. A journey marked with grit and grace.

    3 min readUncategorized
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Rebecca C. Gonzalez