Growing up in a Christian home there was always a lot of prayer going on. We had dinner as a family every evening at 6:00 on the button and always prefaced our meals with a prayer. More times than not my father would fall asleep in his chair reading his Bible and praying. Every Wednesday my father would go to church for prayer meeting and it was an evening devoted to prayer.
Over the years I've meet some amazing prayer warriors. These men and women can move mountains with their words and always seem to know exactly what to say to really touch the heart of whoever it is they are praying for. They are gifted. I do not consider myself one of these folks. Certainly I pray, and I know God hears me and knows my heart....but I'm often relieved that God isn't dependent on the right words to know what I'm trying to say.
Last week I was out in my office doing homework and Brian put the girls to bed. When I came back into the house they were sleeping. I went into Haylee's bedroom and sat on her bed next to her and kissed her and rubbed her beautiful face as she slept. I whispered several "I love yous" and then I started to pray for her. I placed my hand on her chest and I prayed. As I was praying I started to feel different. What started as barely a whisper suddenly had authority and I felt power in my words. I truly felt like God was being transferred right into my daughter's heart through my hand. When I finished praying with her I went in and prayed for Kerrington and the same thing happened. It was indescribable. I walked out of the room and just stood in the hallway trying to grasp what just happened. It hit me, there WAS power in my words. I WAS praying power into my daughters. God hears our prayers and responds. God saw my heart and He knew the desire of my heart, and when I prayed for His covering over my girls he gave it to me and I felt it. I hope they did too.
Feeling such power in a prayer really got me thinking about power. As believers we have incredible power at our disposal should we take the time to call on the Lord for it. But as I was thinking about my two girls I realized that I hold a different kind of power that I sometimes forget that I have. As parents we all have tremendous power. I started to think about how easily my words and actions can either build and encourage their little spirits, or break them. My girls look up to me all the time, on my good days and on my bad days. A few months ago I told Haylee that we had to brush her hair because it was a mess. She looked at me with an expression that broke my heart and said "mama, you don't like my hair?" There may be some drama attached to that example...but it was a reminder to me that I need choose my words carefully because they have incredible power. Haylee is 5 years old and she is incredibly sensitive. She internalizes things that I'm not even aware of. Thankfully she's very vocal and she communicates what she's feeling, so most of the time if I've hurt her she will tell me and we can talk about it. Thankfully when someone else has hurt her she tells me and we can talk about it. I know that it's likely that this will not always be the case, so it's imperative that I do all I can to encourage her confidence and character. So many little things happen in the course of the day that have the potential to build or break. I need to pray to have awareness of these moments.
To be perfectly honest, I'm not crazy about holding all this power. When did I qualify for this? I'm sure that I'm not qualified in and of myself, but thankfully I'm not doing this alone and there is power in prayer, not just for my daughters, but for me too.
About Me
- Who I am: Janiece
- I'm a wife and mom of a 19 year old stepson and 2 little girls ages 5 and almost 7. I was a self-employed real estate appraiser for 12 years and am ready to turn the page and Lord willing go back to school and see what God has next for me. Certainly my highest priority is to attempt to keep the house in order for my dear husband and to savor all the moments I can with my little ones that are growing entirely too fast.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Who's the boss?
I have a discouraged and disappointed husband. If you knew my husband, he doesn't set himself up for disappointment. While I'm jumping up and down and clapping about something he is sitting calmly and quietly waiting for "something" to really happen or appear. I've often looked at him thinking that he's missing out on half the excitement of life by foregoing the jumping and clapping. Half of the fun in my life consists of jumping and clapping. Anyway....he was promised a bonus at his job in recognition of all the outstanding work he does and his unwavering commitment to his responsibilities. The promise was empty, not unlike our bank account. Like anyone, we were certainly looking forward to the extra funds in hopes of getting ahead a little. I can understand his disappointment.
Brian is not the stereotypical "government employee". I'm sure being in the DC area we have all heard the jokes about how government employees are all slackers. My husband is not a slacker. He works for the government as a cyber security something or other. Yes, that is his official title. Check out his business card. He takes his job incredibly seriously. He wants nothing more than to make a difference. He wants to protect our country from cyber attacks. He doesn't hesitate to go the extra mile, he doesn't cut corners. An interoffice memo is just as important to him as a brief to the Secretary of Defense. It all matters to him. He doesn't play the office political games. He is there to do a job and he expects those around him to do the same. If you work for him you'd better bring your "A" game because you're going to need it. I often joke that if I worked for him he'd fire me in 5 minutes. He doesn't leave the office because a clock tells him to, he leaves the office when the work for the day is done. When he comes home he still cares about what's happening. Cyber attacks are real and they don't stop at the end of a workday. He doesn't turn off his work phone when he gets home. He is not a slave to it, but he checks it to make sure if something needs attention it is taken care of.
Brian is not just an outstanding worker. He is an outstanding husband and father. There is nothing he wouldn't do for our family and he shows it daily. He has a ridiculous commute, works a full day, comes home and is engaged with our family. Every day without fail he calls me on the way home and asks me if there is anything he can stop and get for me at the store. You know what? He means it. He would stop and get anything I asked him to and not complain. When the girls have worn me out he takes over. He takes over bath and bedtime and lovingly reads to them and tucks them in.
It struck me earlier as I was catching myself getting a little angry for him....Brian does a fantastic job and he does so because his character and integrity require that he does, but more importantly because God requires that he does. He's going to perform the same no matter who his Commander in Chief is.
"Whatever you do, work at it with all you heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters"
Colossians 3:23
"So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God."
I Corinthians 10:31
Brian may not be getting the recognition that he had hoped for, but his commitment and dedication to his job and to his family are not overlooked by the only One who truly matters.
Brian, THANK YOU so much for all you do. As your wife I thank you for the way you care for our family. As an American I thank you for what you do to keep our beloved Country safe. I love you.
Monday, August 20, 2012
By George, I think I've got it!!!
My last post was regarding my concerns about my daughter going to kindergarten in a public school. Not knowing much about the public school system and always assuming that we would be able to send our girls to a Christian School cause a great amount of angst in me to say the least. So many waves of thought went through my mind at warp speed and I struggled with figuring out what exactly was at the heart of my hesitation.
I'm still not exactly sure if it's any one thing. There are so many things to consider when deciding on any educational choice whether it's preschool or grad school. There are pros and cons to any form of education and I strongly believe that there are many choices out there because everyone learns in their own way. I guess it's our job as parents to do our best to figure out what style of learning enables our little ones to truly soar.
Anyway....after MUCH thought and deliberation and tears and prayer I realized that a large part of my hesitation in sending Haylee to a public school was a result of my experience in a public high school. I didn't have a horrible experience, but I felt invisible. I didn't feel like my teachers knew me and I certainly didn't feel like the majority of the students knew I existed. Whether or not any of this is true, it's what I believed to be true as a fragile adolescent. My biggest fear is Haylee experiencing any of those feelings.
After we attended the "meet the teacher" night I was even more concerned. She is in a classroom with 24 kids with one teacher and one assistant. All I could think of is "how in the world can one teacher be effective in teaching all these children?" I couldn't get the thought out of my mind. I pictured Haylee being excited over the completion of an assignment and trying to show her teacher who is too busy with the other 18 children to notice her accomplishment. I pictured her little spirit being crushed bit by tiny bit. This is all of course in my head and who knows if anything like that would happen. I'm sure these teachers do their best to encourage all of the children the best they can. Of course, my "picture" didn't stop there. My mind is way too good at travel to stop there! I got thinking about all the things I know to be so amazing about my daughter. I wondered if the teacher would ever get the opportunity to notice some of these little nuances that make her so unique. How sensitive she is if someone is hurt. If a friend hurts, so does she. Will the teacher spend enough time with her to notice her sense of humor? Will she understand how easily her heart is hurt? Will she be able to take the extra little moments necessary to build her little spirit? All these questions and many others had me in intermittent tears all day Saturday.
Then it hit me.
Hilary Clinton, I'm sorry, but I respectfully disagree with you. It does NOT take a village to raise a child. It takes parents. One mother and one father. It is OUR job to encourage her and build her spirit. It is our job to do our best to build confidence in her. It's our job to teach her right from wrong and the importance of morals and values. We are the ones that are supposed to know her little personality inside out. Brian and I are to teach her about the Lord and what it means to love God and live for Him. Don't get me wrong, of course our teachers come along side us and help us and teach what their job asks them to teach. I'm sure as the days and weeks to by I will be incredibly thankful for what her new teacher is doing for her everyday.
An enormous peace came over me when the realization hit me that sending her away to school didn't mean that I was turning the responsibility of her learning to someone else. Brian and I are and will always be her primary teachers. No matter where we decided to send her for her education, we would still be her primary teachers. Our job will now change and our responsibility is greater. We need to be aware of what she is being taught and if it doesn't line up with what we believe to be true then we will explain things to her as necessary. I know that there will be challenges along the way and this will not be easy. I'm also sure there will be more tears shed. I also know that tears aren't really a bad thing....I cry because I love her so much and want to do this whole parenting thing right. I cry because I care and it matters to me, so you'll never see me apologizing for my tears.
So, I worried about her being invisible, but I now see that it's impossible for that to ever be. That little girl knows full well how loved she is. She talks all the time about how Jesus lives in her heart. Invisible? Not a chance.
I'm still not exactly sure if it's any one thing. There are so many things to consider when deciding on any educational choice whether it's preschool or grad school. There are pros and cons to any form of education and I strongly believe that there are many choices out there because everyone learns in their own way. I guess it's our job as parents to do our best to figure out what style of learning enables our little ones to truly soar.
Anyway....after MUCH thought and deliberation and tears and prayer I realized that a large part of my hesitation in sending Haylee to a public school was a result of my experience in a public high school. I didn't have a horrible experience, but I felt invisible. I didn't feel like my teachers knew me and I certainly didn't feel like the majority of the students knew I existed. Whether or not any of this is true, it's what I believed to be true as a fragile adolescent. My biggest fear is Haylee experiencing any of those feelings.
After we attended the "meet the teacher" night I was even more concerned. She is in a classroom with 24 kids with one teacher and one assistant. All I could think of is "how in the world can one teacher be effective in teaching all these children?" I couldn't get the thought out of my mind. I pictured Haylee being excited over the completion of an assignment and trying to show her teacher who is too busy with the other 18 children to notice her accomplishment. I pictured her little spirit being crushed bit by tiny bit. This is all of course in my head and who knows if anything like that would happen. I'm sure these teachers do their best to encourage all of the children the best they can. Of course, my "picture" didn't stop there. My mind is way too good at travel to stop there! I got thinking about all the things I know to be so amazing about my daughter. I wondered if the teacher would ever get the opportunity to notice some of these little nuances that make her so unique. How sensitive she is if someone is hurt. If a friend hurts, so does she. Will the teacher spend enough time with her to notice her sense of humor? Will she understand how easily her heart is hurt? Will she be able to take the extra little moments necessary to build her little spirit? All these questions and many others had me in intermittent tears all day Saturday.
Then it hit me.
Hilary Clinton, I'm sorry, but I respectfully disagree with you. It does NOT take a village to raise a child. It takes parents. One mother and one father. It is OUR job to encourage her and build her spirit. It is our job to do our best to build confidence in her. It's our job to teach her right from wrong and the importance of morals and values. We are the ones that are supposed to know her little personality inside out. Brian and I are to teach her about the Lord and what it means to love God and live for Him. Don't get me wrong, of course our teachers come along side us and help us and teach what their job asks them to teach. I'm sure as the days and weeks to by I will be incredibly thankful for what her new teacher is doing for her everyday.
An enormous peace came over me when the realization hit me that sending her away to school didn't mean that I was turning the responsibility of her learning to someone else. Brian and I are and will always be her primary teachers. No matter where we decided to send her for her education, we would still be her primary teachers. Our job will now change and our responsibility is greater. We need to be aware of what she is being taught and if it doesn't line up with what we believe to be true then we will explain things to her as necessary. I know that there will be challenges along the way and this will not be easy. I'm also sure there will be more tears shed. I also know that tears aren't really a bad thing....I cry because I love her so much and want to do this whole parenting thing right. I cry because I care and it matters to me, so you'll never see me apologizing for my tears.
So, I worried about her being invisible, but I now see that it's impossible for that to ever be. That little girl knows full well how loved she is. She talks all the time about how Jesus lives in her heart. Invisible? Not a chance.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
To the Wolves???
So, again it's been a while since I've written. One good thing about going a while is that I have lots of blog ideas brewing. On June 25th I had to put my beloved cat, Gus, down. It was by far the hardest thing I've ever had to do and to say it broke my heart is an understatement. I did a lot of my writing in my little office and more times than not he was my writing companion. I find it hard to be there without being overwhelmed by an aching heart. I sit here in my living room typing, but I will eventually make my way back to my little haven.
Today there is something heavy on my heart. I'm still processing it, but I thought maybe writing would help a bit. Much to my disbelief, my baby girl who I JUST gave birth to is five years old. She is starting Kindergarten in a few short weeks. I put off registering her because I just couldn't bring myself to do it for some reasons I knew, and some I'm just realizing. Brian and I both went to private schools for the majority of our school years. I went to a private Christian School until 10th grade. We had discussed school and agreed that our desire was for our children to get a Christian based education. However, with my business being flushed down the toilet with the economy and having to recover from some financial hardships, private school is just not an option for us at this time. So, since I'm quite confident homeschooling would be a disaster, we are left with public school. Please don't misunderstand, I'm not trying to trash public schools, I would simply prefer a smaller class size and strongly desire a Christian education for Haylee.
I walked into the school office fighting back tears. I filled out all the paperwork and handed it all in to the very nice office secretary who assured me my daughter would be thrilled with her new school. As I returned to my car all I could think of was that I just threw my daughter to the wolves. (Keep in mind that homeschooling her would be throwing her to a wolverine....which would be me) I kept going over in my mind the reasons I was finding this so hard. I'm sure that all mothers go through this to some degree when then send their firstborn off to school for the first time. I'm sure some of my reluctance is just the unknown. I'm sure part of it is wondering if as parents we have done all we could to prepare her for this next phase of her life. Certainly there are questions.
Will the other children be nice to her?
Will she be nice to other children?
Will she have the strength to stand up for herself?
Will she be kind and considerate?
Will she come home happy and excited, or sad and brokenhearted? (she is a very sensitive young girl)
There are so many questions and I won't have the answers until she is off to school.
On top of these questions and concerns, I realized that there is another underlying reason I'm so very hesitant to send her to public school. I was in a very small Christian school until 10th grade. I didn't have to deal with clicks, I wasn't ridiculed because of my clothes or my hair as a young girl (but MAN...let me tell you...I would have been a target to say the least). I really don't know what a public elementary school is like. I DO however, know what a public high school is like. Going into a new high school in 10th grade as the new kid with crazy short hair, not even a cool pair of socks and no friends was not easy. No one was mean to me, but I just sort of existed. I wanted more than anything to be liked by the "cool" kids, but they already had their groups formed. I did find some good friends and I'm very thankful for the girls that did embrace me, but it wasn't easy for a fragile 15 year old.
I'm seeing that so much of my concern stems from my public school experience. Haylee is 5, not 15. Her experience will be completely different from mine. I'm sure she will come across some girls or boys that are not nice to her, and I'm sure there will be times when she is not very nice to some other girls or boys. I'm sure there will be days that she DOES come home brokenhearted. When she does I will hold her and love her. I'm sure there will be days that she comes home happy and excited about friends and learning. When she does I will be happy with her and love her. There will be days that she comes home frustrated and tired. I will encourage her and love her. There will be days that she comes home and tells me that she wasn't very nice to someone. I will correct her and love her.
The main point is that I'm seeing that I can't control the circumstances, but I can control how I react to them. She has to live life and she has to have experiences both good and bad. Part of my job as a parent is to teach her how to navigate through all the experiences. I can't shelter her, that is not teaching her and it is not strengthening her. It's my job to help her grow into a responsible, caring adult.
This parenting thing is not easy. There is a part of me that DOES just want to hug her and protect her all the days of her life!!! I DON'T want her to be hurt, I don't want her to be sad or broken hearted. Who wants to watch their child hurt? When they hand you your new baby in the hospital they are so tiny and frail. They are so dependent and needy. Then you blink and they are little people. Little people that have to live life. Life hurts sometimes as wonderful as it is. I pray more than anything that I can help to teach my girls how wonderful life is even when you are kicking a wolf away from your pant leg.
Today there is something heavy on my heart. I'm still processing it, but I thought maybe writing would help a bit. Much to my disbelief, my baby girl who I JUST gave birth to is five years old. She is starting Kindergarten in a few short weeks. I put off registering her because I just couldn't bring myself to do it for some reasons I knew, and some I'm just realizing. Brian and I both went to private schools for the majority of our school years. I went to a private Christian School until 10th grade. We had discussed school and agreed that our desire was for our children to get a Christian based education. However, with my business being flushed down the toilet with the economy and having to recover from some financial hardships, private school is just not an option for us at this time. So, since I'm quite confident homeschooling would be a disaster, we are left with public school. Please don't misunderstand, I'm not trying to trash public schools, I would simply prefer a smaller class size and strongly desire a Christian education for Haylee.
I walked into the school office fighting back tears. I filled out all the paperwork and handed it all in to the very nice office secretary who assured me my daughter would be thrilled with her new school. As I returned to my car all I could think of was that I just threw my daughter to the wolves. (Keep in mind that homeschooling her would be throwing her to a wolverine....which would be me) I kept going over in my mind the reasons I was finding this so hard. I'm sure that all mothers go through this to some degree when then send their firstborn off to school for the first time. I'm sure some of my reluctance is just the unknown. I'm sure part of it is wondering if as parents we have done all we could to prepare her for this next phase of her life. Certainly there are questions.
Will the other children be nice to her?
Will she be nice to other children?
Will she have the strength to stand up for herself?
Will she be kind and considerate?
Will she come home happy and excited, or sad and brokenhearted? (she is a very sensitive young girl)
There are so many questions and I won't have the answers until she is off to school.
On top of these questions and concerns, I realized that there is another underlying reason I'm so very hesitant to send her to public school. I was in a very small Christian school until 10th grade. I didn't have to deal with clicks, I wasn't ridiculed because of my clothes or my hair as a young girl (but MAN...let me tell you...I would have been a target to say the least). I really don't know what a public elementary school is like. I DO however, know what a public high school is like. Going into a new high school in 10th grade as the new kid with crazy short hair, not even a cool pair of socks and no friends was not easy. No one was mean to me, but I just sort of existed. I wanted more than anything to be liked by the "cool" kids, but they already had their groups formed. I did find some good friends and I'm very thankful for the girls that did embrace me, but it wasn't easy for a fragile 15 year old.
I'm seeing that so much of my concern stems from my public school experience. Haylee is 5, not 15. Her experience will be completely different from mine. I'm sure she will come across some girls or boys that are not nice to her, and I'm sure there will be times when she is not very nice to some other girls or boys. I'm sure there will be days that she DOES come home brokenhearted. When she does I will hold her and love her. I'm sure there will be days that she comes home happy and excited about friends and learning. When she does I will be happy with her and love her. There will be days that she comes home frustrated and tired. I will encourage her and love her. There will be days that she comes home and tells me that she wasn't very nice to someone. I will correct her and love her.
The main point is that I'm seeing that I can't control the circumstances, but I can control how I react to them. She has to live life and she has to have experiences both good and bad. Part of my job as a parent is to teach her how to navigate through all the experiences. I can't shelter her, that is not teaching her and it is not strengthening her. It's my job to help her grow into a responsible, caring adult.
This parenting thing is not easy. There is a part of me that DOES just want to hug her and protect her all the days of her life!!! I DON'T want her to be hurt, I don't want her to be sad or broken hearted. Who wants to watch their child hurt? When they hand you your new baby in the hospital they are so tiny and frail. They are so dependent and needy. Then you blink and they are little people. Little people that have to live life. Life hurts sometimes as wonderful as it is. I pray more than anything that I can help to teach my girls how wonderful life is even when you are kicking a wolf away from your pant leg.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
A simple "I love you"
When Haylee was a baby she wasn't particularly snuggly. She would snuggle when it was time to go to bed at night, but to sit on the couch on your lap and just "be"...not so much. I remember wishing that she would snuggle with me a little more. As a baby she wasn't a big fan of snuggling, but as a toddler she became more and more of a snuggle bug and now I can't keep her off of me. If I'm sitting she has to be next to me, if I'm laying on the couch she has to be next to me. If she had her way we would snuggle for an hour every morning, noon and night. She is forever content in the arms of her mommy.
Kerrington was a snuggler from the start and still is. The most frustrating part of my day is being the referee between the two when they are fighting over my lap. My solution is to plop them both in my lap, but if world war 1 is over my lap then world war 2 is over one of them touching the other while on my lap.
A night that passes without a 30 or 40 pound bedbug crawling in our bed is rare. The other night Haylee climbed into our bed and she snuggled just as close to me as she could possibly get and she pulled my arm over her and kissed my arm while hugging it close to her. A few minutes later she kissed my arm again. It was a beautiful "I love you." Even though I was 90% asleep, my heart smiled.
Last night Kerrington made a visit in the midnight hour. Again, I was half sleeping, but I was awake enough to realize that I had company. Brian had confiscated the pillow, and she couldn't find one, so I offered her my arm and she happily snuggled into it and me and whispered "Mama, I always love you." She was back to sleep in less than a minute. In the consciousness that I did have in that moment all I could think of was how fortunate I am that I have not one, but two little girls that are so loving and affectionate. I was filled with thankfulness as I hugged her tighter into me.
I know that there are parents out there that will never hear the words "I love you" from the children they love and cherish. To be very honest, I don't know much about Autism. I know that there is a huge range of symptoms and degrees of it, and children with mild cases can live somewhat normal lives. I also know that children with severe cases are incapable of connection and affection even with the parents they love.
My best friend's cousin has a daughter with severe Autism. I don't believe she will ever hear the words "I love you" from her little girl. What's beautiful is that they have a special way of connecting. It's in very subtle ways, but love is communicated. Although there are small ways that this love is felt, I'm certain the mother has a hole in her heart that just longs for those words to be whispered.
I can't even imagine the hardships that parents of children with special needs go through on a daily basis. when I'm having a rough day with my girls and then they crawl up in my lap and smother me with kisses the hard parts just fade away. What if I never had those moments? What if my little girl or girls couldn't even make eye contact with me?
In the challenges of parenthood it can be so easy to get caught up in the daily frustrations. It is so easy to lose sight of little things that really are not little at all. When you think about it, there really is no such thing as a "simple" I love you. When the words "I love you" are coming from the pure heart of a three or four year old it can move a mountain.
Dear Lord, please help me to embrace the joy that is ever present in the little moments.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Give and take
God is so cool. I sat down here to write a blog about something that's been on my mind for a few days and just as I started to type, God gave me something completely different to say. This is hot off the press.
Alright, so if you've read my past posts or if you know me at all you know I love my little birds. I have several feeders and thoroughly enjoy watching my little chirpities and they come and go holding on tight to their little seed snacks. It's incredibly peaceful for me.
For the past week or so we have been getting an unwanted visitor or visitors in the night. Destructive evidence has shown that we indeed have a bear helping himself to the birdseed. In addition, he is happy to help us sort through our recycling and our trash in the event a certain unnamed teenager should forget to take it to the garage. At first he knocked over a feeder and got to the seeds. The next time he climbed up into the tree and knocked out the feeder and emptied it. This morning I found that he completely destroyed my favorite feeder and took another one as a souvenir!!!
I know what I have to do. I have to take the feeders down at night and put them back up in the morning. If I want to feed them at all, this is what needs to be done. As I sat down to write, I gazed out the window watching my precious little chickadees (my very favorite bird) and wondered if they will understand that in order to GIVE to them I have to TAKE AWAY.
Stop.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Oh how my mind is racing looking back on all the times that I've been so frustrated that I didn't get what I wanted when I wanted it. How many times has God had to take something from me in order to give something to me?
I love my birds. I want to feed them. It gives me joy. God loves me. He wants to give to me. It gives HIM joy. Looking out at my birds, I get it. Watching my little chirping friends has given me a priceless message from my heavenly Father.
I wonder if I'll ever understand that in order for God to GIVE to me, sometimes he has to TAKE AWAY. Today I believe I'm one step closer to embracing this truth.
Psalm 84:11 - "no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless.
Isaiah 55:9 - "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."
Alright, so if you've read my past posts or if you know me at all you know I love my little birds. I have several feeders and thoroughly enjoy watching my little chirpities and they come and go holding on tight to their little seed snacks. It's incredibly peaceful for me.
For the past week or so we have been getting an unwanted visitor or visitors in the night. Destructive evidence has shown that we indeed have a bear helping himself to the birdseed. In addition, he is happy to help us sort through our recycling and our trash in the event a certain unnamed teenager should forget to take it to the garage. At first he knocked over a feeder and got to the seeds. The next time he climbed up into the tree and knocked out the feeder and emptied it. This morning I found that he completely destroyed my favorite feeder and took another one as a souvenir!!!
I know what I have to do. I have to take the feeders down at night and put them back up in the morning. If I want to feed them at all, this is what needs to be done. As I sat down to write, I gazed out the window watching my precious little chickadees (my very favorite bird) and wondered if they will understand that in order to GIVE to them I have to TAKE AWAY.
Stop.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Oh how my mind is racing looking back on all the times that I've been so frustrated that I didn't get what I wanted when I wanted it. How many times has God had to take something from me in order to give something to me?
I love my birds. I want to feed them. It gives me joy. God loves me. He wants to give to me. It gives HIM joy. Looking out at my birds, I get it. Watching my little chirping friends has given me a priceless message from my heavenly Father.
I wonder if I'll ever understand that in order for God to GIVE to me, sometimes he has to TAKE AWAY. Today I believe I'm one step closer to embracing this truth.
Psalm 84:11 - "no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless.
Isaiah 55:9 - "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Happiness is......
I remember when I was young there were little figurines all over the gift stores that said "happiness is...." you fill in the blank. There were posters, shirts, pictures, etc. and they declared that happiness was anything from a person, to coffee (which is feasible if you ask me), sleep, hugs, kisses, smiles, you name it. In the movie "you're a good man, Charlie Brown" there was even a song that had quite a few suggestions on what could bring some momentary or even some long term happiness.
I was talking to a friend a while back and this friend asked how I was doing. I don't know what I said exactly, but I must have answered with a lack of enthusiasm that gave the impression that I was unhappy. The friend said "you know, you deserve to be happy and if you're not you need to go find what makes you happy." This friend knows both my husband and I and knows that we have been working through some rough spots in our marriage. I'm fairly certain this friend was referring to my marriage in the comment. I thought about the comment quite a bit and was saddened in knowing that there are countless marriages that are no more because someone went out to pursue "happiness" that wasn't seen in the marriage. Notice that I did not say wasn't IN the marriage, I said it wasn't SEEN in the marriage.
I am a guilty as anyone of falling for the notion that my husband should make me happy. If I'm not happy it's because my husband isn't meeting my needs, right? Don't think I haven't slumped over on occasion with that idea in my head. "If only my husband would to this, or wouldn't do that, I'd be happy." "If only he'd be a good spouse to me like I am to him!" (insert hysterical laughter here!!) What a crock of crap! What a bold faced lie straight from the father of lies himself. It is most certainly NOT my husbands responsibility to make me happy. Does he have responsibilities in our marriage relationship? Of course he does, but making sure that my feelings are warm and fuzzy is not one of them. My happiness, contentment and my joy is my responsibility alone. I could almost bring myself to tears thinking back on the resentments I have held tightly to in the past against my husband that I'm certain affected the happiness of us both in our marriage.
Wouldn't it be great though if we could blame our lack of happiness and joy on someone else? It sure would be easier that way. It would make walking out of a marriage a whole lot easier believing that your marriage will never be happy because of someone else. Oh the other hand, if my happiness was determined by what someone else did or didn't do what I sitting duck I'd feel like. I'd feel like little more than a puppet. Embracing the fact that joy and happiness are mine for the taking at any time and in any circumstance is empowering! Do people's actions affect us? Of course they do. There is no denying that we are uplifted by others and we are at times hurt by others and we do react, we are human after all. The difference is that we do not have to be bound by the feelings that our responses generate. We can, and I have....and unfortunately I have held on to those feelings for long periods of time. I can't change how I have reacted in the past, but I can change how I react now and in the future. No matter what the circumstances are there is always and forever a reason to get on knees and thank God for something.
I don't believe my friend meant any harm in the comment. My friend sensed pain and offered what was believed to be life giving advice. The comment brought me to my senses though. I probably WAS wallowing. I probably WAS unhappy in that moment and probably WAS thinking that it was the fault of someone other than myself. Thank GOD my happiness is not dependent on the action or inaction of another whether it be my husband, my children, my friends, or my family. There is power and freedom in knowing that I determine whether or not I suck the marrow out of the day. I choose what reactions I take to the events that take place throughout the day. As previously stated, I'll be the first to admit that my reactions are NOT always what they should be, but I can change that. I know that happiness is always being served should I choose to grasp it.
You will show me the path of life; in your presence is fullness of joy.
Psalm 16:11
Jesus said, "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."
John 10:10
I was talking to a friend a while back and this friend asked how I was doing. I don't know what I said exactly, but I must have answered with a lack of enthusiasm that gave the impression that I was unhappy. The friend said "you know, you deserve to be happy and if you're not you need to go find what makes you happy." This friend knows both my husband and I and knows that we have been working through some rough spots in our marriage. I'm fairly certain this friend was referring to my marriage in the comment. I thought about the comment quite a bit and was saddened in knowing that there are countless marriages that are no more because someone went out to pursue "happiness" that wasn't seen in the marriage. Notice that I did not say wasn't IN the marriage, I said it wasn't SEEN in the marriage.
I am a guilty as anyone of falling for the notion that my husband should make me happy. If I'm not happy it's because my husband isn't meeting my needs, right? Don't think I haven't slumped over on occasion with that idea in my head. "If only my husband would to this, or wouldn't do that, I'd be happy." "If only he'd be a good spouse to me like I am to him!" (insert hysterical laughter here!!) What a crock of crap! What a bold faced lie straight from the father of lies himself. It is most certainly NOT my husbands responsibility to make me happy. Does he have responsibilities in our marriage relationship? Of course he does, but making sure that my feelings are warm and fuzzy is not one of them. My happiness, contentment and my joy is my responsibility alone. I could almost bring myself to tears thinking back on the resentments I have held tightly to in the past against my husband that I'm certain affected the happiness of us both in our marriage.
Wouldn't it be great though if we could blame our lack of happiness and joy on someone else? It sure would be easier that way. It would make walking out of a marriage a whole lot easier believing that your marriage will never be happy because of someone else. Oh the other hand, if my happiness was determined by what someone else did or didn't do what I sitting duck I'd feel like. I'd feel like little more than a puppet. Embracing the fact that joy and happiness are mine for the taking at any time and in any circumstance is empowering! Do people's actions affect us? Of course they do. There is no denying that we are uplifted by others and we are at times hurt by others and we do react, we are human after all. The difference is that we do not have to be bound by the feelings that our responses generate. We can, and I have....and unfortunately I have held on to those feelings for long periods of time. I can't change how I have reacted in the past, but I can change how I react now and in the future. No matter what the circumstances are there is always and forever a reason to get on knees and thank God for something.
I don't believe my friend meant any harm in the comment. My friend sensed pain and offered what was believed to be life giving advice. The comment brought me to my senses though. I probably WAS wallowing. I probably WAS unhappy in that moment and probably WAS thinking that it was the fault of someone other than myself. Thank GOD my happiness is not dependent on the action or inaction of another whether it be my husband, my children, my friends, or my family. There is power and freedom in knowing that I determine whether or not I suck the marrow out of the day. I choose what reactions I take to the events that take place throughout the day. As previously stated, I'll be the first to admit that my reactions are NOT always what they should be, but I can change that. I know that happiness is always being served should I choose to grasp it.
You will show me the path of life; in your presence is fullness of joy.
Psalm 16:11
Jesus said, "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."
John 10:10
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Be still....AND...
Alright. It has been a while since I've posted a blog. Life just seemed to get in the way for a spell, then a little more time went by, and then I got to thinking that since I haven't blogged in a while I'd better come up with a REALLY good topic for my next blog. Hmmm. What should it be about? Uh oh, it's been another week, better make it even better. It is just plain crazy the amount of pressure I conjured up in my head over a blog. I had a couple of ideas here and there and honestly had every intention of sharing, but I didn't. So, here were are pretty far removed from my last blog and I have to tell you that as I sit here I feel no pressure. I began this blog to share my struggles and victories, my joys and my pain as the LORD would have me with the sole purpose of encouraging others that are on the very same journey as I am. I share as I am lead and this is what I feel the Lord would have me say.
For the past number of months I have felt the Lord telling me over and over (and over and over) to be still. He is working on me and unfortunately I seem to wiggle like a 3 year old that's getting a splinter removed from his toe. (I'm probably as loud too). I'm able to be still for a while and then before you know it I'm back to being my helpful self because, well, God can always use helpers, right? I'd hear the whisper again...."Janiece, be still." Yesterday I was recalling the verses that quickly come to mind when I think of His instruction to "be still". Have you ever noticed that God doesn't JUST tell us to be still? He knows us so intimately that he knows that asking us to simply "be still" would be a challenge. He tells us to "Be still AND KNOW he is God. He tells us to "Be still before the LORD and WAIT PATIENTLY for him". When he is instructing the sea he says simply "Be still", but not his children. God doesn't shush us off into the corner and then come back when he's done with his work. He tells us to be still and KNOW that he is God, which means that even though the waiting is hard, we have the comfort in knowing who it is that asks us to wait. God loves us so much that he wants us to be comforted in our waiting and in the stillness. I have lately learned that there is much more going on than we realize when we are still. Exodus 14:14 says "The LORD will fight for you, you have only to be silent." Psalm 23 talks about our souls being restored as we are lead by STILL waters. How many times have we read or quoted that Psalm? I can't count...but when I rest on the words "He restores my soul" I am encouraged. He is working, he is refining, he is sanding rough edges, he is perfecting and lets not forget the best part, he is fighting. He is doing all these things in me in the stillness. That isn't even the best part. The best part is that these promises are not just for me, they are for you. All we have to do is be still....and know.
For the past number of months I have felt the Lord telling me over and over (and over and over) to be still. He is working on me and unfortunately I seem to wiggle like a 3 year old that's getting a splinter removed from his toe. (I'm probably as loud too). I'm able to be still for a while and then before you know it I'm back to being my helpful self because, well, God can always use helpers, right? I'd hear the whisper again...."Janiece, be still." Yesterday I was recalling the verses that quickly come to mind when I think of His instruction to "be still". Have you ever noticed that God doesn't JUST tell us to be still? He knows us so intimately that he knows that asking us to simply "be still" would be a challenge. He tells us to "Be still AND KNOW he is God. He tells us to "Be still before the LORD and WAIT PATIENTLY for him". When he is instructing the sea he says simply "Be still", but not his children. God doesn't shush us off into the corner and then come back when he's done with his work. He tells us to be still and KNOW that he is God, which means that even though the waiting is hard, we have the comfort in knowing who it is that asks us to wait. God loves us so much that he wants us to be comforted in our waiting and in the stillness. I have lately learned that there is much more going on than we realize when we are still. Exodus 14:14 says "The LORD will fight for you, you have only to be silent." Psalm 23 talks about our souls being restored as we are lead by STILL waters. How many times have we read or quoted that Psalm? I can't count...but when I rest on the words "He restores my soul" I am encouraged. He is working, he is refining, he is sanding rough edges, he is perfecting and lets not forget the best part, he is fighting. He is doing all these things in me in the stillness. That isn't even the best part. The best part is that these promises are not just for me, they are for you. All we have to do is be still....and know.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Best Mom in the World
It's interesting to look back and reflect on what I thought made a mom great BEFORE actually being one. Since I didn't have children until my late thirties I had plenty of time to observe the things other mothers did and didn't do and I had a whole mental list of things I would NEVER do as a mother. Didn't we all have those lists? I'll bet that for many of us the things that topped that list were the things that our own mothers did or didn't do.
If you had asked me what made a mom great 10 years ago I'm not sure what I would have told you. Most likely I would have said making great meals (that they would actually eat), taking them to piano lessons, soccer practice, dance class, Karate class and boy or girl scouts without complaining. (I know now this would be impossible). I probably would have told you that a good mom takes their children to church to teach them about God and certainly a good mom wouldn't let their children drink soda!!!
My ideas on what a makes a mom great at this point are very different that they once were. The funny thing is that what I think makes me a good mom and what my girls think makes me a good mom are completely different too. Yesterday I was elevated to the status of "best mom in the whole world." I don't like to brag, but it is true....yesterday in the eyes of my precious Haylee I was in fact the best mom in the world. I didn't get the title by making her a gourmet meal, or by signing her up for extracurricular activities, or buying her a new toy or better yet an outfit. What in the world did I do? She asked me if I would paint her nails and I said yes. That little girl lit up like a lighthouse and grabbed my leg and squeezed it with more happiness on her face than I thought could fit. As I was getting my nail polish she must have told me 4 more times that I was the best mom ever. I loved painting her nails, but not as much as she loved painting mine. I look at my manicure with its seven different colors thinking that this has to be the best manicure I've ever had and I didn't even have to leave a tip.
Yesterday I was reminded of an incredibly simple but powerful truth that I forget too often. My girls don't want "stuff" nearly as much as they want me. They want my time and attention, they NEED my time and attention. It's so easy to get caught up in the day to day things that never end. I painted nails with Haylee while the dishes sat in the sink and the laundry sat in the washer. I have to remember that the dishes and laundry can wait. There will ALWAYS be dishes in the sink, but my daughter will not always be four. Yesterday I chose what was good. I pray for the wisdom to make many more good choices with the days I've been given.
If you had asked me what made a mom great 10 years ago I'm not sure what I would have told you. Most likely I would have said making great meals (that they would actually eat), taking them to piano lessons, soccer practice, dance class, Karate class and boy or girl scouts without complaining. (I know now this would be impossible). I probably would have told you that a good mom takes their children to church to teach them about God and certainly a good mom wouldn't let their children drink soda!!!
My ideas on what a makes a mom great at this point are very different that they once were. The funny thing is that what I think makes me a good mom and what my girls think makes me a good mom are completely different too. Yesterday I was elevated to the status of "best mom in the whole world." I don't like to brag, but it is true....yesterday in the eyes of my precious Haylee I was in fact the best mom in the world. I didn't get the title by making her a gourmet meal, or by signing her up for extracurricular activities, or buying her a new toy or better yet an outfit. What in the world did I do? She asked me if I would paint her nails and I said yes. That little girl lit up like a lighthouse and grabbed my leg and squeezed it with more happiness on her face than I thought could fit. As I was getting my nail polish she must have told me 4 more times that I was the best mom ever. I loved painting her nails, but not as much as she loved painting mine. I look at my manicure with its seven different colors thinking that this has to be the best manicure I've ever had and I didn't even have to leave a tip.
Yesterday I was reminded of an incredibly simple but powerful truth that I forget too often. My girls don't want "stuff" nearly as much as they want me. They want my time and attention, they NEED my time and attention. It's so easy to get caught up in the day to day things that never end. I painted nails with Haylee while the dishes sat in the sink and the laundry sat in the washer. I have to remember that the dishes and laundry can wait. There will ALWAYS be dishes in the sink, but my daughter will not always be four. Yesterday I chose what was good. I pray for the wisdom to make many more good choices with the days I've been given.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Hats & Titles
What in the world is Hats & Titles all about? Pretty strange title for a blog I know, but it is what it is. Here's where the hats come in. A number of years ago I attended a Women of Faith conference at the MCI center in DC. I can't remember the names of the speakers, but there was a woman that did a skit of sorts about all the hats a mom wears in the course of a day. At the time I was single and worlds away from relating to her, but I found her entertaining to say the least. She literally had countless hats that she put on her head and changed them as she sang her song describing a day in the life of a mom. I was exhausted listening to her, and of course now that I'm a mother I understand COMPLETELY what she was talking about. As mothers we want to be the best we can be for our children, right? We want to meet their needs, we want them to thrive, we want them to know how much we love them....and to do this we inevitably wear a plethora of different hats in the course of a day. We start out as the drill Sargent dragging them out of bed, then we are the chef, then the stylist choosing the outfit of the day (for little ones anyway), then we are the chauffeur, etc. etc. You get the point?
I was thinking about this the other day. God doesn't have hats, but the initials after his name on a business card would be ridiculous. God has more than a few titles. When I was looking up how many different names and titles there are for God in the Bible I was overwhelmed. I never found a clear number and there were too many to try to count. One site said there were 470+ different names and titles for God. Why so many? I don't know what the scholars would say about why there are so many, but I can tell you why I think there are so many. We love our children, and because we love them we morph into whatever we are feasibly able to within reason to meet their needs. Certainly we are limited, but God certainly is not. As I read down the list of titles I smiled. I felt so loved and cared for and protected. I think God has so many titles because he loves us and he will be whatever he needs to be in order to teach us, protect us, and love us. I jotted down a few of the names that stood out to me:
GOD IS: Our Advocate, the Almighty, the Angel of God's Presence, Commander, Counselor, Deliverer, Everlasting Father, Faithful & True, The Good, Great and Chief Shepherd, King of Peace, Light of the World, Rock of Ages, Wisdom, Wonderful, Refuge from the Storm, the Hope of His People, a Sanctuary, the Intercessor, the Surety, He is our Helper,Physician, Healer, Refiner, Purifier, Example, Restorer, and our All in All.
Why is this so striking to me? Well, since becoming a mother I've learned to look at God in a different way. One of the most common names for God is "our Heavenly Father". We are His children. It didn't completely click for me until I became a mother and began to see that there is no limit to what I wouldn't do for my children. Now when I think about God as my Father it takes on an entirely new meaning.
I'm in the midst of a struggle, and when I read that God is my Prince of Peace and my Fortress it means something to me. When I read that He is my Deliverer and my Healer it means something to me. When I read that He is my Restorer it means something to me. As long as I have breath my girls will never go through a struggle without me by their side, and I take immense comfort in the fact that as long as I have breath I will never struggle without the Everlasting Father by my side. It's never fun to be in a season of growth, but I have every confidence that it is most certainly not in vain, and I am most certainly never alone.
"But the Lord has become my fortress, and my God the rock in whom I take refuge."
Psalm 94:22
"Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning"
Psalm 30:5
I was thinking about this the other day. God doesn't have hats, but the initials after his name on a business card would be ridiculous. God has more than a few titles. When I was looking up how many different names and titles there are for God in the Bible I was overwhelmed. I never found a clear number and there were too many to try to count. One site said there were 470+ different names and titles for God. Why so many? I don't know what the scholars would say about why there are so many, but I can tell you why I think there are so many. We love our children, and because we love them we morph into whatever we are feasibly able to within reason to meet their needs. Certainly we are limited, but God certainly is not. As I read down the list of titles I smiled. I felt so loved and cared for and protected. I think God has so many titles because he loves us and he will be whatever he needs to be in order to teach us, protect us, and love us. I jotted down a few of the names that stood out to me:
GOD IS: Our Advocate, the Almighty, the Angel of God's Presence, Commander, Counselor, Deliverer, Everlasting Father, Faithful & True, The Good, Great and Chief Shepherd, King of Peace, Light of the World, Rock of Ages, Wisdom, Wonderful, Refuge from the Storm, the Hope of His People, a Sanctuary, the Intercessor, the Surety, He is our Helper,Physician, Healer, Refiner, Purifier, Example, Restorer, and our All in All.
Why is this so striking to me? Well, since becoming a mother I've learned to look at God in a different way. One of the most common names for God is "our Heavenly Father". We are His children. It didn't completely click for me until I became a mother and began to see that there is no limit to what I wouldn't do for my children. Now when I think about God as my Father it takes on an entirely new meaning.
I'm in the midst of a struggle, and when I read that God is my Prince of Peace and my Fortress it means something to me. When I read that He is my Deliverer and my Healer it means something to me. When I read that He is my Restorer it means something to me. As long as I have breath my girls will never go through a struggle without me by their side, and I take immense comfort in the fact that as long as I have breath I will never struggle without the Everlasting Father by my side. It's never fun to be in a season of growth, but I have every confidence that it is most certainly not in vain, and I am most certainly never alone.
"But the Lord has become my fortress, and my God the rock in whom I take refuge."
Psalm 94:22
"Weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning"
Psalm 30:5
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
In the Waiting
Yes...I am alive! I've had blog ideas stuck in my head but just haven't sat down to chew on them enough to get them on here. What I have to say today has nothing to do with my previous ideas, it's about what's going on in my head today.
We all have seasons that we go through and we could all come up with a title for them. The season I am in at the moment can be summed up with the work "waiting". Not much glamorous about that, huh? Maybe not. However, I have known for a while now that God's desire for me is to "Be still and know that He is God". Last night it occurred to me that it's in these moments and seasons of "stillness" that things are really happening behind the scenes. We are not in a culture that does well with waiting and to be honest...I'm part of that culture. I don't like to wait. Whether I like it or not, it's what I'm doing. I don't know how long this season will be, so, I can either be miserable, or I can embrace the truth that God is never still. WE don't see what's going on, we might not FEEL that there are things going on...but God is always at work and I'm thankful that I'm one of His projects.
Haylee loves it when I tell her stories of when she was a baby. She loves stories about when I was little. She loves stories, period. She's been asking me questions about when Brian and I got married and in one of our conversations I must have told her that I had to wait for Brian. (my time frame was about 12 years premature of God's time frame) She asked me tonight to tell her about how I waiting for Brian when I was little. I told her that I didn't know daddy when I was little. She reminded me that I had told her that God made me wait for daddy. I had told her that I asked God for a husband because I wanted to be married and God said "no, not yet". I said, "Please, God....can I have a husband now?" God said "not yet, you're not ready". (of course I relay this a little more entertaining for Haylee) I told her that I finally told God, "OK, I'll wait. Bring me a husband when you're ready". Little did I know that God was waiting on ME to be ready. I was antsy for a husband for 12 years before I got one. Funny thing, it was in the waiting that I grew and matured enough to actually handle what I'd been asking for. If you would have asked me at the time I would have told you that there wasn't much going on...but there was everything going on. God never requires us to wait for something for nothing. Rest in knowing that there is always a reason....and it is GOOD. Thank GOD I didn't get married any sooner than I did. I can only imagine where I would be today if I would have forced what i wasn't prepared for.
I'm doing a Beth Moore bible study about the book of James. Interesting that the lesson tonight was all about waiting. the title of the lesson was "between the rains". You see, in the Bible it talks about how important the rains were. They didn't get a lot of it...so the spring and the autumn rains were imperative for the crops and the people relied on that precious rain.
There are times in our life when we are blessed with the rain we pray for and long for and need....and there are the times between the rain when we are forced to be still and wait. The best part of the lesson was the verse Hosea 6:3 which says "Let us acknowledge the LORD; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth."
Beth Moore has such a gift with words and the way she can impact so many with her use of them. She explained that as long as that sun rises our rain is coming. That is a promise. I needed that promise. We are never forgotten and we also are never alone in our waiting. We have our Savior by our side, we have friends to walk beside us and to pray for us. We all have seasons, and whether yours is a rainy one or a dry one, isn't it wonderful that we are never in any season alone?
I might not need my umbrella for a while, but I'm holding on to it because I know that healing precious rain is coming. God promised, and I will wait.
We all have seasons that we go through and we could all come up with a title for them. The season I am in at the moment can be summed up with the work "waiting". Not much glamorous about that, huh? Maybe not. However, I have known for a while now that God's desire for me is to "Be still and know that He is God". Last night it occurred to me that it's in these moments and seasons of "stillness" that things are really happening behind the scenes. We are not in a culture that does well with waiting and to be honest...I'm part of that culture. I don't like to wait. Whether I like it or not, it's what I'm doing. I don't know how long this season will be, so, I can either be miserable, or I can embrace the truth that God is never still. WE don't see what's going on, we might not FEEL that there are things going on...but God is always at work and I'm thankful that I'm one of His projects.
Haylee loves it when I tell her stories of when she was a baby. She loves stories about when I was little. She loves stories, period. She's been asking me questions about when Brian and I got married and in one of our conversations I must have told her that I had to wait for Brian. (my time frame was about 12 years premature of God's time frame) She asked me tonight to tell her about how I waiting for Brian when I was little. I told her that I didn't know daddy when I was little. She reminded me that I had told her that God made me wait for daddy. I had told her that I asked God for a husband because I wanted to be married and God said "no, not yet". I said, "Please, God....can I have a husband now?" God said "not yet, you're not ready". (of course I relay this a little more entertaining for Haylee) I told her that I finally told God, "OK, I'll wait. Bring me a husband when you're ready". Little did I know that God was waiting on ME to be ready. I was antsy for a husband for 12 years before I got one. Funny thing, it was in the waiting that I grew and matured enough to actually handle what I'd been asking for. If you would have asked me at the time I would have told you that there wasn't much going on...but there was everything going on. God never requires us to wait for something for nothing. Rest in knowing that there is always a reason....and it is GOOD. Thank GOD I didn't get married any sooner than I did. I can only imagine where I would be today if I would have forced what i wasn't prepared for.
I'm doing a Beth Moore bible study about the book of James. Interesting that the lesson tonight was all about waiting. the title of the lesson was "between the rains". You see, in the Bible it talks about how important the rains were. They didn't get a lot of it...so the spring and the autumn rains were imperative for the crops and the people relied on that precious rain.
There are times in our life when we are blessed with the rain we pray for and long for and need....and there are the times between the rain when we are forced to be still and wait. The best part of the lesson was the verse Hosea 6:3 which says "Let us acknowledge the LORD; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth."
Beth Moore has such a gift with words and the way she can impact so many with her use of them. She explained that as long as that sun rises our rain is coming. That is a promise. I needed that promise. We are never forgotten and we also are never alone in our waiting. We have our Savior by our side, we have friends to walk beside us and to pray for us. We all have seasons, and whether yours is a rainy one or a dry one, isn't it wonderful that we are never in any season alone?
I might not need my umbrella for a while, but I'm holding on to it because I know that healing precious rain is coming. God promised, and I will wait.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Conversations
Anyone who has known me for, oh, 12 minutes knows that I have a treasure friend whose name is Michelle. She has been my best friend for 20 something years. On Saturday night I had the pleasure of going out to dinner with her to celebrate her birthday which has been our tradition for quite a few years now. We look forward to one of our favorite restaurants complete with wine, an appetizer, dinner, dessert and a hot cup of coffee to top it all off. I have to say though, that as much as I LOVE, and I do mean LOVE the good food, what I look forward to the most is the company and conversation with my beloved friend. We became friends in our early twenties, so, as you can imagine, over the years our conversations have grown and evolved just as we have. I can't tell you how many times we have been talking and laughed until we cried. I can't tell you how many times we have shared our souls and cried until there were no more tears to fall. She walked me through the heart wrenching loss of my father and I walked her through the heart wrenching loss of her mother. I was witness to her vows to her husband and she was witness to the vows I made to my husband. We have supported each other through every hardship and trial and celebrated with each other over every success. I trust her and love her and as a result sharing my deepest thoughts is effortless. She loves me enough to tell me when I'm wrong, she loves me enough to tell me things that will sting. I can hear it because "Wounds from a friend can be trusted" (Proverbs 27:6) Sharing your thoughts and feelings and longings with someone is good for your soul. Knowing that you have been heard and understood by someone you love is an amazing feeling. After one of our special conversations I feel lifted up, and not just for the rest of the day...many times it lasts for days. I feel close to her, I feel thankful for her, and though I never think it's possible...I actually love her even more!
Every week our new amazing senior Pastor Nick sends out an e-mail letting the congregation know what he plans to speak on the following Sunday. A few weeks ago he preached a message on why we pray. For some reason the other day I started to think about that some more. I got thinking about how much I love my meaningful conversations with Michelle, which led me to think that that is probably exactly the feeling God gets when we make the time to have "meaningful conversations" with Him. I love Michelle, and if we go for a while without talking I really miss it. I need it and want it. God loves us and longs for us to open our hearts and souls to him. He wants us to long for him the way he longs for us. He wants our heart and our devotion. He wants to know what we are feeling, what we are struggling with and he wants us to tell him what He can do to help us. THAT is why we pray.
My husband is wonderful in a host of ways...but those deep meaningful conversations aren't always easy for him to engage in. He's not the talker that I am. (Thank GOD...there isn't room for two of me in the house) Occasionally I have to go to him and tell him that I need to connect with him because I miss those conversations that have such meaning and result in closeness and true intimacy. I can't help but wonder if that is what God is feeling when I neglect to take the time to really connect with Him too.
Why do we pray? We are instructed to, obviously that is one reason....but I'm seeing in a whole new light that we pray to keep our hearts open to share ourselves with the One who above all treasures relationship with the children He loves. The closer we are to God the more we trust him and the easier it is to bear our souls to Him, and the more we will long for those conversations.
Every week our new amazing senior Pastor Nick sends out an e-mail letting the congregation know what he plans to speak on the following Sunday. A few weeks ago he preached a message on why we pray. For some reason the other day I started to think about that some more. I got thinking about how much I love my meaningful conversations with Michelle, which led me to think that that is probably exactly the feeling God gets when we make the time to have "meaningful conversations" with Him. I love Michelle, and if we go for a while without talking I really miss it. I need it and want it. God loves us and longs for us to open our hearts and souls to him. He wants us to long for him the way he longs for us. He wants our heart and our devotion. He wants to know what we are feeling, what we are struggling with and he wants us to tell him what He can do to help us. THAT is why we pray.
My husband is wonderful in a host of ways...but those deep meaningful conversations aren't always easy for him to engage in. He's not the talker that I am. (Thank GOD...there isn't room for two of me in the house) Occasionally I have to go to him and tell him that I need to connect with him because I miss those conversations that have such meaning and result in closeness and true intimacy. I can't help but wonder if that is what God is feeling when I neglect to take the time to really connect with Him too.
Why do we pray? We are instructed to, obviously that is one reason....but I'm seeing in a whole new light that we pray to keep our hearts open to share ourselves with the One who above all treasures relationship with the children He loves. The closer we are to God the more we trust him and the easier it is to bear our souls to Him, and the more we will long for those conversations.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Hurricanes
I have to admit that I don't really know much about hurricanes. I have read about them, seen pictures of the devastation they cause and have listened to countless hours of news coverage on them when and after a sizable one has descended upon a sitting duck of a town or city. They are powerful, relentless and unstoppable. There is not way to avoid one that is coming your way. There really are only 2 choices: run like crazy for safety or stay and try to weather the storm and pray you survive. Technology is amazing these days, isn't it? They can tell days ahead if a storm is headed in a direction. Certainly storms shift and sometimes the look worse than they really are, and sometimes they appear fairly harmless and turn out to be anything but that. Storms are upgraded and downgraded all the time. I don't live in an area that is a hot spot for hurricanes, but I can imagine that those living in southern Florida or areas along the east coast are more than thankful that in most cases they have ample warning of a storm that's brewing.
You know, a bought of depression is not unlike a hurricane in many ways. Sometimes you have warning, sometimes you don't. Sometimes it seems big but loses it's power, and sometimes it doesn't look big and all and WHAM! I've never tried to sit through a hurricane. I've had several dreams about tornadoes and tsunamis and they were incredibly vivid, but certainly a dream doesn't come close to actually experiencing the power of a hurricane up close and personal. I have, however, weathered a depression storm or two, and that is no joke either. I have sat in the eye of a hurricane of depression holding my hands over my head listening to the howls of each gust of wind just begging for God to keep me safe and see me through only half believing that I'd make it through. I have found myself in midst of the storm wondering how in the world I missed the warning siren yet again. How do I keep ending up in this place? I don't have the answer. All I can say is that in the midst of the pain I hold tightly to the promises I know to be true, even if they are blurred.
The most striking resemblance that comes to mind when comparing depression to a hurricane is this. The devastation left in it's path. Coming out of a depression and seeing the reality of what's been done is enough to send you right back to where you were. I can't imagine coming back to the place a sizable hurricane hit to witness the destruction probably as far as the eye can see. I can imagine coming out a depression and realizing what has happened around you when you are finally able to surface from the bunker. Reality hurts almost as much as the depression itself.
I'm recovering from a storm right now as I type. Everyday I realize something else that I've neglected, or someone else that I've hurt while I've been tucked away trying to make it to the next day. To say that it breaks my heart is the biggest understatement. It kills me that for months now I have had no reserves to show loves ones how much they matter to me. It kills me that I have raised my voice to my girls repeatedly more in the past months than ever imagined I would in a lifetime. It kills me that I've watched my husband try in vain to help me feel better as I roll over for another 3 hour nap in attempt to dull the pain of breathing. The guilt is palpable. No one that is fighting depression has intent to hurt others. I know that statement is quite declarative, but I say it with conviction even if it's not always true.
I spent last night in tears because I was made aware of the hurt that I've caused someone who I love deeply. She lovingly expressed her hurt and disappointment and all she said was valid. She has every right to feel hurt. What really cuts deep is the fact that I have no words to say that will make it better. I was surviving and it took every ounce of energy that I had inside of me. That probably sounds like an excuse. It is not an excuse...it is truth.
I'm a loving person. I would never hurt someone knowingly and realizing that I caused hurt to those I love is almost more than I can bear. It was tough to get up and face the day today, but I got up and spend some time with God and He had something for me. There are countless verses in the Bible about how God is there with us through any storm. He is our safe place, our haven. He promises peace and hope and a love like no other. He promises a whole bunch of things and Hebrews he says this...."Let us hold UNSWERVINGLY to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful."
I am coming out of my storm. It is still raining, and here and there a gust of wind comes and knocks me back on my behind, but make no mistake, I'm getting back up and holding tightly to the hand that has lifted me from the pit. He will bring me through. He promised that He would, and HE IS FAITHFUL.
You know, a bought of depression is not unlike a hurricane in many ways. Sometimes you have warning, sometimes you don't. Sometimes it seems big but loses it's power, and sometimes it doesn't look big and all and WHAM! I've never tried to sit through a hurricane. I've had several dreams about tornadoes and tsunamis and they were incredibly vivid, but certainly a dream doesn't come close to actually experiencing the power of a hurricane up close and personal. I have, however, weathered a depression storm or two, and that is no joke either. I have sat in the eye of a hurricane of depression holding my hands over my head listening to the howls of each gust of wind just begging for God to keep me safe and see me through only half believing that I'd make it through. I have found myself in midst of the storm wondering how in the world I missed the warning siren yet again. How do I keep ending up in this place? I don't have the answer. All I can say is that in the midst of the pain I hold tightly to the promises I know to be true, even if they are blurred.
The most striking resemblance that comes to mind when comparing depression to a hurricane is this. The devastation left in it's path. Coming out of a depression and seeing the reality of what's been done is enough to send you right back to where you were. I can't imagine coming back to the place a sizable hurricane hit to witness the destruction probably as far as the eye can see. I can imagine coming out a depression and realizing what has happened around you when you are finally able to surface from the bunker. Reality hurts almost as much as the depression itself.
I'm recovering from a storm right now as I type. Everyday I realize something else that I've neglected, or someone else that I've hurt while I've been tucked away trying to make it to the next day. To say that it breaks my heart is the biggest understatement. It kills me that for months now I have had no reserves to show loves ones how much they matter to me. It kills me that I have raised my voice to my girls repeatedly more in the past months than ever imagined I would in a lifetime. It kills me that I've watched my husband try in vain to help me feel better as I roll over for another 3 hour nap in attempt to dull the pain of breathing. The guilt is palpable. No one that is fighting depression has intent to hurt others. I know that statement is quite declarative, but I say it with conviction even if it's not always true.
I spent last night in tears because I was made aware of the hurt that I've caused someone who I love deeply. She lovingly expressed her hurt and disappointment and all she said was valid. She has every right to feel hurt. What really cuts deep is the fact that I have no words to say that will make it better. I was surviving and it took every ounce of energy that I had inside of me. That probably sounds like an excuse. It is not an excuse...it is truth.
I'm a loving person. I would never hurt someone knowingly and realizing that I caused hurt to those I love is almost more than I can bear. It was tough to get up and face the day today, but I got up and spend some time with God and He had something for me. There are countless verses in the Bible about how God is there with us through any storm. He is our safe place, our haven. He promises peace and hope and a love like no other. He promises a whole bunch of things and Hebrews he says this...."Let us hold UNSWERVINGLY to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful."
I am coming out of my storm. It is still raining, and here and there a gust of wind comes and knocks me back on my behind, but make no mistake, I'm getting back up and holding tightly to the hand that has lifted me from the pit. He will bring me through. He promised that He would, and HE IS FAITHFUL.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Flashbacks
Isn't it fun when you see something or do something that immediately takes you back to a great time in your life? I had some of those moments yesterday. We got a pathetically small amount of snow, but had some ice to accompany it. We got just enough to make the roads a mess and, come to find out, just enough to make our yard and driveway a sledding heaven! When Brian suggested taking the girls out to sled I snickered inside. the Upstate New York girl in me was screaming, "you call that snow?" You could still see the grass for goodness sake! Well, Brian was right. There was just enough ice and snow for perfect conditions. I wasn't even finished with my Saturday morning coffee before I was looking through the house for something appropriate to wear for this adventure. I get outside to see Brian walking up out driveway. (we have a ridiculously LONG driveway) Brian said he sailed all the way to the road...I thought he meant the driveway..he literally meant the road that cars travel on! He says, "you wanna try?" I hesitated. The 42 year old adult in me knows full well that if the sled tips over at warp speed my body is not going to be the same and I will likely get a mouthful of snow, ice and gravel. I looked over at my 4 year old and knew that I had no choice. I was going down. I hopped on the $5.99 Walmart special sled with Haylee and off we went. We FLEW down the yard....flew onto the driveway and if I was able to steer the sled we would have continued down the driveway, but instead we met Mr. Fence face to face. I have to tell you, it didn't matter...it was so fun and such a rush and more reckless abandon than I'd experienced in years.
For the next hour I wasn't a middle aged mom. I went right back to my childhood. I was a little kid that couldn't wait to get to the top of the hill for another crazy trip down. I grew up in Upstate New York where there wasn't a dusting of snow, there was FEET of snow. Mountains of snow. Snow piles that you could dig caves in that went on forever. Piles of snow to slide down, play king of the mountain on...the possibilities were endless, or so it seemed. We'd patiently wait for the stream to freeze so we could skate around on the ice. My sister and i couldn't get enough of the snow. We'd play until our feet were frozen, bring in our boots and socks and put them as close to the wood stove as we could without catching them on fire and we'd check them every 10 minutes to see if they were dry so we could go back out for more. It never got old. It was exciting. It was fun, and it gave us joy. You know, we didn't have any fancy toys to play with. We had all we needed with what surrounded us.
Don't you sometimes wish you could go back and get some of that childhood joy back? It was so innocent, so pure, and so endless. We get older and so much of our joy is compromised by fear, or mistrust, or pain that doesn't seem to heal. We WANT joy, we desire it, but it's like we forget how to make it ours.
Is it any wonder that Jesus says that we are come to him as little children? Little children see something that is good and they go to it. They aren't wondering "what's the catch". They aren't thinking in the back of their heads, "this is too good to be true". Little children just love with all they have. They love with purity and without abandon. The hearts of our children are not tainted by this world.
What if WE loved Jesus like a little child. What if we believed what He says and just loved him and trusted him and served him because we were excited to obey Him with that reckless abandon. I know that my relationship with Jesus wouldn't be the same. I watch my daughters and how innocent they are and how excited they get over things. What if I got excited over Jesus with that same energy. Food for thought.
For the next hour I wasn't a middle aged mom. I went right back to my childhood. I was a little kid that couldn't wait to get to the top of the hill for another crazy trip down. I grew up in Upstate New York where there wasn't a dusting of snow, there was FEET of snow. Mountains of snow. Snow piles that you could dig caves in that went on forever. Piles of snow to slide down, play king of the mountain on...the possibilities were endless, or so it seemed. We'd patiently wait for the stream to freeze so we could skate around on the ice. My sister and i couldn't get enough of the snow. We'd play until our feet were frozen, bring in our boots and socks and put them as close to the wood stove as we could without catching them on fire and we'd check them every 10 minutes to see if they were dry so we could go back out for more. It never got old. It was exciting. It was fun, and it gave us joy. You know, we didn't have any fancy toys to play with. We had all we needed with what surrounded us.
Don't you sometimes wish you could go back and get some of that childhood joy back? It was so innocent, so pure, and so endless. We get older and so much of our joy is compromised by fear, or mistrust, or pain that doesn't seem to heal. We WANT joy, we desire it, but it's like we forget how to make it ours.
Is it any wonder that Jesus says that we are come to him as little children? Little children see something that is good and they go to it. They aren't wondering "what's the catch". They aren't thinking in the back of their heads, "this is too good to be true". Little children just love with all they have. They love with purity and without abandon. The hearts of our children are not tainted by this world.
What if WE loved Jesus like a little child. What if we believed what He says and just loved him and trusted him and served him because we were excited to obey Him with that reckless abandon. I know that my relationship with Jesus wouldn't be the same. I watch my daughters and how innocent they are and how excited they get over things. What if I got excited over Jesus with that same energy. Food for thought.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Love/Hate Relationships
My last post was about daring to be broken. I really thought that my next post would be titled something like "refusing to stay broken." I thought that would be the obvious follow up since we all know that we feel broken at times, and sometimes its that brokenness that we are most in tune with God and can hear what He has to say. Sometimes I think God needs us to be broken so that we see our need for Him and with our whole heart yearn for Him; but I say with confidence that it is not God's desire to leave us broken. That's not His nature.
In my quest to remedy my brokenness, I began doing research on a number of things. In addition to my research I made a doctor's appointment. A bit of history, after the birth of Kerrington I fell into postpartum depression. I was put on an antidepressant and after a while it seemed to help. I have been on it for some time now, but a few months ago I seemed to be having more anxiety and I was definitely more agitated (just ask Brian if you doubt me...poor guy) and extremely fatigued. At my appointment my doctor switched me to a different medication and it didn't take me long to realize that this medication was not right for me. Now, I wasn't only agitated I was extremely agitated, I was angry, and I started to really dislike myself, I was snappy with my girls which made me dislike myself even more. It was a horrible downward spiral. Now...in addition to my antidepressant mess....my thyroid has been completely out of whack. Coincidentally, many symptoms of thyroid dysfunction and depression are the same...so, am I being treated for depression when really it's my thyroid, or is it a combination of both? Good question huh? It must be because no doctor seems to have an answer other than to try to throw more medication at me.
So, here is where the love/hate relationship comes in. Let me make it clear, I am not anti-medication. Are there medications that are over prescribed? Certainly. Are there people that misuse them? Certainly. Are there people with a need for them who live normal lives because of these medications? Certainly. 13 years ago I was on anti-depressants for about a year when I was dealing with the loss of my father. The medication helped me through a very difficult time and I was incredibly thankful for it and when I felt better I was able to slowly go off the medication and was good to go. I guess that would be the love part. Here's the other part. The recent medication that I was on turned me into a person I didn't know, and frankly didn't like. Thankfully I realized that the medication was pure evil in my body and I stopped taking it. I know that is not recommended...but I knew that stopping the medication could not be worse that what I was feeling on the medication. My doctor told me that I did the right thing, by the way.
Here is my big frustration. In doing my research I found that having a dysfunctional thyroid affects a host of other things. It can set all sorts of hormones out of whack which can absolutely affect energy level, mood, anxiety, appetite, weight gain and/or loss, and a host of other things.
When I brought this up as a possibility for my symptoms to my doctor and the specialist he sent me to I was dismissed and they both recommended that I see a psychiatrist for more appropriate medication. You should have seen the look on their faces when I said that I didn't want to be on any medication and that I wanted to look into natural remedies such as a cleaner diet and more exercise and herbs. I swear for a moment I had a third eye.
I still have a great amount of respect for my doctor. I just disagree with his method of treatment for me. I refuse to believe that additional medication is the answer for me, other than for regulating my thyroid, which I will likely always be on medication for.
I'm writing this because I know that I have many friends that have had more than frustrating relationships with their doctors in effort to get adequate help for either themselves or for their children. These doctors go to medical school for years and years and they have a wealth of knowledge, and we WANT to trust them, but more and more it seems like we have to be our own physician. To be honest, this is really the first time I've been in complete disagreement with a doctor, and it was even harder to disagree with the specialist I was sent to, however, I know my body, I've lived in it for a long time. Why is it that sometimes its so hard to trust what your body is telling you.
The bottom line is that I'm not fixed yet. I'm still feeling broken....but I'm not sitting in my brokenness...I'm fighting tooth and nail to get out of it. It may take a while, actually, I'm certain it will take a while, but I'm also certain that in time I will feel better. I know that I am taking the right steps and I'm trusting in that.
In my quest to remedy my brokenness, I began doing research on a number of things. In addition to my research I made a doctor's appointment. A bit of history, after the birth of Kerrington I fell into postpartum depression. I was put on an antidepressant and after a while it seemed to help. I have been on it for some time now, but a few months ago I seemed to be having more anxiety and I was definitely more agitated (just ask Brian if you doubt me...poor guy) and extremely fatigued. At my appointment my doctor switched me to a different medication and it didn't take me long to realize that this medication was not right for me. Now, I wasn't only agitated I was extremely agitated, I was angry, and I started to really dislike myself, I was snappy with my girls which made me dislike myself even more. It was a horrible downward spiral. Now...in addition to my antidepressant mess....my thyroid has been completely out of whack. Coincidentally, many symptoms of thyroid dysfunction and depression are the same...so, am I being treated for depression when really it's my thyroid, or is it a combination of both? Good question huh? It must be because no doctor seems to have an answer other than to try to throw more medication at me.
So, here is where the love/hate relationship comes in. Let me make it clear, I am not anti-medication. Are there medications that are over prescribed? Certainly. Are there people that misuse them? Certainly. Are there people with a need for them who live normal lives because of these medications? Certainly. 13 years ago I was on anti-depressants for about a year when I was dealing with the loss of my father. The medication helped me through a very difficult time and I was incredibly thankful for it and when I felt better I was able to slowly go off the medication and was good to go. I guess that would be the love part. Here's the other part. The recent medication that I was on turned me into a person I didn't know, and frankly didn't like. Thankfully I realized that the medication was pure evil in my body and I stopped taking it. I know that is not recommended...but I knew that stopping the medication could not be worse that what I was feeling on the medication. My doctor told me that I did the right thing, by the way.
Here is my big frustration. In doing my research I found that having a dysfunctional thyroid affects a host of other things. It can set all sorts of hormones out of whack which can absolutely affect energy level, mood, anxiety, appetite, weight gain and/or loss, and a host of other things.
When I brought this up as a possibility for my symptoms to my doctor and the specialist he sent me to I was dismissed and they both recommended that I see a psychiatrist for more appropriate medication. You should have seen the look on their faces when I said that I didn't want to be on any medication and that I wanted to look into natural remedies such as a cleaner diet and more exercise and herbs. I swear for a moment I had a third eye.
I still have a great amount of respect for my doctor. I just disagree with his method of treatment for me. I refuse to believe that additional medication is the answer for me, other than for regulating my thyroid, which I will likely always be on medication for.
I'm writing this because I know that I have many friends that have had more than frustrating relationships with their doctors in effort to get adequate help for either themselves or for their children. These doctors go to medical school for years and years and they have a wealth of knowledge, and we WANT to trust them, but more and more it seems like we have to be our own physician. To be honest, this is really the first time I've been in complete disagreement with a doctor, and it was even harder to disagree with the specialist I was sent to, however, I know my body, I've lived in it for a long time. Why is it that sometimes its so hard to trust what your body is telling you.
The bottom line is that I'm not fixed yet. I'm still feeling broken....but I'm not sitting in my brokenness...I'm fighting tooth and nail to get out of it. It may take a while, actually, I'm certain it will take a while, but I'm also certain that in time I will feel better. I know that I am taking the right steps and I'm trusting in that.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Dare to be Broken
I've been thinking about this post for a few days. I was hoping that giving it some extra thought would give me some clarity on what exactly I wanted to say, but it seem like the clarity comes at the keyboard. I'm not sure exactly how to say what's on my heart, but I'm going to give it a shot.
It's no secret that I've been struggling for the past few months. It wasn't my plan to share that struggle with the world, but I felt lead to write about it and I'm starting to see why God was prompting me to write. Writing about my struggle with depression gave encouragement to other women who were also struggling. I received several responses to that post and I'm quite certain that I GOT much more encouragement than I gave. Depression is a lonely place and when you are in it you feel as if you are the only one....we are never alone in our struggles.
When thinking about how I've felt lately the word that comes to mind is broken. We all feel broken from time to time and the things that make us feel that way are different for all of us. For me, I think my biggest challenge is feeling like I'm doing an adequate job as a wife and mother. I admit that I compare myself to other mothers all the time. I have several friends who also have kids, some of them work at least part time and I have never once seen their house in a state of disarray. To be honest it makes me a little crazy. HOW is that possible? They "say" that it's not always that way...but I'm not sure I believe them. I might have to peek in some windows. There are so many little things to do in the course of a day to keep things together and it seems like whether I have 2 things or 12 things on my plate, somehow I manage to dump the plate.
One thing that I have realized is that I am not superwoman. I don't have a spandex suit, and if i did I'm quite sure it would not fit. For some strange reason I put this crazy pressure on myself to "do it all" and when I fall short I feel like a failure. Sometimes I catch myself putting the ridiculous expectations on myself...other times I don't. Here's the other thing that I have realized. We are not supposed to be superwoman. Our society would have us believe that us capable women can effectively work a full-time job, take care of children, a husband, a house, maintain friendships and sanity. I'm sure some will disagree with me...but that is a load of crap. There is no woman on the face of this earth that can effectively (this is the key word) do all of those things. Some women don't have a choice but to work and care for their children and home, and my hat goes off to you. I don't know how you do it. We only have so much energy to give...we do not have a never ending tank of reserves. It would be nice, but we don't. I have struggled with balance all of my life. For me it always seems like succeeding in one area means another area is suffering. I know I'm not the only one with that struggle. What I need to do is adjust expectations of myself and not feel so inadequate when something doesn't get done right...or doesn't get done at all. Perfect example...I'm writing this and it's 6:24 am. I got up at 5:15 am (which is unheard of for me) to write. I made a cup of coffee and took one sip and heard footsteps. Haylee woke up and wanted a snack. (she NEVER wakes up at this hour). I sat back down to write and Kerrington started crying with a nightmare....so I got up and held her and calmed her back to sleep. What's a mom to do? This is exactly why it takes a week to fold a load of laundry!!!
Anyway. The main thing that was on my mind is this. Being broken now and then really isn't all that bad. It's not fun to feel broken, that's a given. However, there are some great things that come from being broken. Think about what it means when something is broke. It doesn't work. Something needs to change. I was feeling broken and I needed some things to change. Feeling broken caused me to fall on my knees begging for peace and comfort from my Lord. It's always wonderful to return to His waiting embrace, isn't it? Feeling broken has caused me to take an honest look at myself and see exactly where the problem lies. That is a tall order...but I'm seeing that there are many small changes that I can make and those small changes can make big differences. Feeling broken made me realize that I wasn't taking good care of my body. I need to make better food choices and I need to make time to exercise and certainly this will make a world of difference. Feeling broken caused my husband to care for me in different ways...and this made me realize all over again how much he loves me and how caring and thoughtful he is. Feeling broken has made me realize the things that are really important. What is really important is NOT me finishing my blog when I wanted to. What was important this morning was comforting Kerrington when she was having a bad dream. I have two little girls that need me...a lot. This means that there are a world of things that will not get done when I anticipate. Feeling broken has made me realize that that is OK.
Pain is good. Pain is a message that something isn't right. Dare to be broken.
It's no secret that I've been struggling for the past few months. It wasn't my plan to share that struggle with the world, but I felt lead to write about it and I'm starting to see why God was prompting me to write. Writing about my struggle with depression gave encouragement to other women who were also struggling. I received several responses to that post and I'm quite certain that I GOT much more encouragement than I gave. Depression is a lonely place and when you are in it you feel as if you are the only one....we are never alone in our struggles.
When thinking about how I've felt lately the word that comes to mind is broken. We all feel broken from time to time and the things that make us feel that way are different for all of us. For me, I think my biggest challenge is feeling like I'm doing an adequate job as a wife and mother. I admit that I compare myself to other mothers all the time. I have several friends who also have kids, some of them work at least part time and I have never once seen their house in a state of disarray. To be honest it makes me a little crazy. HOW is that possible? They "say" that it's not always that way...but I'm not sure I believe them. I might have to peek in some windows. There are so many little things to do in the course of a day to keep things together and it seems like whether I have 2 things or 12 things on my plate, somehow I manage to dump the plate.
One thing that I have realized is that I am not superwoman. I don't have a spandex suit, and if i did I'm quite sure it would not fit. For some strange reason I put this crazy pressure on myself to "do it all" and when I fall short I feel like a failure. Sometimes I catch myself putting the ridiculous expectations on myself...other times I don't. Here's the other thing that I have realized. We are not supposed to be superwoman. Our society would have us believe that us capable women can effectively work a full-time job, take care of children, a husband, a house, maintain friendships and sanity. I'm sure some will disagree with me...but that is a load of crap. There is no woman on the face of this earth that can effectively (this is the key word) do all of those things. Some women don't have a choice but to work and care for their children and home, and my hat goes off to you. I don't know how you do it. We only have so much energy to give...we do not have a never ending tank of reserves. It would be nice, but we don't. I have struggled with balance all of my life. For me it always seems like succeeding in one area means another area is suffering. I know I'm not the only one with that struggle. What I need to do is adjust expectations of myself and not feel so inadequate when something doesn't get done right...or doesn't get done at all. Perfect example...I'm writing this and it's 6:24 am. I got up at 5:15 am (which is unheard of for me) to write. I made a cup of coffee and took one sip and heard footsteps. Haylee woke up and wanted a snack. (she NEVER wakes up at this hour). I sat back down to write and Kerrington started crying with a nightmare....so I got up and held her and calmed her back to sleep. What's a mom to do? This is exactly why it takes a week to fold a load of laundry!!!
Anyway. The main thing that was on my mind is this. Being broken now and then really isn't all that bad. It's not fun to feel broken, that's a given. However, there are some great things that come from being broken. Think about what it means when something is broke. It doesn't work. Something needs to change. I was feeling broken and I needed some things to change. Feeling broken caused me to fall on my knees begging for peace and comfort from my Lord. It's always wonderful to return to His waiting embrace, isn't it? Feeling broken has caused me to take an honest look at myself and see exactly where the problem lies. That is a tall order...but I'm seeing that there are many small changes that I can make and those small changes can make big differences. Feeling broken made me realize that I wasn't taking good care of my body. I need to make better food choices and I need to make time to exercise and certainly this will make a world of difference. Feeling broken caused my husband to care for me in different ways...and this made me realize all over again how much he loves me and how caring and thoughtful he is. Feeling broken has made me realize the things that are really important. What is really important is NOT me finishing my blog when I wanted to. What was important this morning was comforting Kerrington when she was having a bad dream. I have two little girls that need me...a lot. This means that there are a world of things that will not get done when I anticipate. Feeling broken has made me realize that that is OK.
Pain is good. Pain is a message that something isn't right. Dare to be broken.
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