I live in a neighborhood where most of the gentlemen are retired and active. Everyone keeps their lawn looking like a golf course. My husband has had multiple injuries. Therefore he is not physically capable of mowing the lawn, with our difficult to use, over twenty year old tractor. I mow the lawn, but I also work, unlike my neighbors. I don't want our lawn to be out of place, and I love looking out over our neighborhood to see how well manicured it is by all.
I was unable to mow this last proper time, because it rained and stormed for two days. Finally on my day off it only lightly rained, so I waited several hours, then mowed the lawn. We have a part of the lawn that is precarious to get to. I have to straddle the seat and lean to one side so as to not go into a stream about 5 or less feet below the drop off, in order to get to the flat part toward the bottom.
Since things were not as dry as I had thought, on my fourth trip down I had problems. I had put the tractor into the lowest gear but the wheels seemed to go very fast. I tried to slow it down by going up the embankment slightly. I went way up the embankment instead. The tractor was going too fast and flipped over throwing me off and landed on top of my tail bone. There I was under the tractor with legs hanging over the edge and the tractor on top of me. Both about to drop down about 5 feet. I yelled but no one heard. I was able to move the tractor over so neither would go over the edge and proceeded to try to pull the tractor back, while in great pain. Paul came out, saw what was going on and asked, "Are you hurt"? Then he looked at me as said "Oh my goodness honey"! Together we got the tractor up right and to the bottom flat part. However, I had flip flops on, and during the process I ripped off the top layer and all the polish from two of my toenails and banged my knee up because it was so slick. I was bruised and in pain but able to move.
As I cleaned up, I thought of all of the possible horrible things that could have happened. I could have been sliced but the blades automatically shut off when I left the seat. I could have fallen five feet and the tractor on top of me, on and on I went. Thankfully, none of that happened. I was in one piece and so was the tractor. Both a bit banged up but I will heal and it was fixable. God gave me divine protection through it all and is healing me now. I am so very grateful that my Father loves me and always hears me when I call. He always gives His angels charge over me and keeps me safe. Bless His name!
I strongly dislike change. I much prefer predictability, and my world felt threatened. As we started visiting other churches, we each had different expectations in mind. He was searching for the place where our family could all be involved and grow together. I was pretty sure that what we would find would simply confirm my belief that we should have never moved on in the first place.
The first Sunday we attended one particular church, we sat in the back. Waaayyy back! I was hoping nobody would talk to us and we could just check that one off of the list. We left as soon as the service ended, and I thought it was over. Then the pastor started calling and talking to us. I blurted out everything that I thought would deter him from connecting with us. I wanted to make sure he knew what a mess we are and that he certainly didn't want us to be a part of his church. He still called. He showed up when we were filming video footage for our band and hung out with us a while. I greeted him with a smile, but wondered why he had come to support us when he barely knows us.
He called me one day and after a 20 minute conversation about wiener dogs, I texted my brother in law and said "Why does he have to be so nice? I am trying really hard not to like him". Then I met his wife and was immediately sucked into the vortex of genuine love and kindness that oozes from her. The night of our CD release party, they slipped into the back room where we were gathered with band members and joined in as we prayed. It moved me beyond words. Despite every horror story we have told them, every struggle that we have been brutally honest about, every doubt spoken about our ability to do what we feel God has called us to....they still make the effort to connect with us. The more I am around them, the more I like them. The more I like them, the more I want to be around them. Hmmmm..... Maybe my hubby was right all along. Just don't tell him I said that. Shhhhhhhh!
There are times when life throws you zooey, painful, irritating, or devastating curveballs. I've talked about my son's Autism, but one that has come on the middle of everything for me is insomnia. For those of you who have suffered, it is truly painful. I find myself tortured and awake from 2 am on at night. Then, during the day I'm a tired that transcends fatigued into a realm where I hear color. It is a frenzy of thoughts, hurt, need, and distraction.
Every night I pray for sleep. The fact that it hasn't come for three months is confounding. I could not think clearly. Was God mad at me, wanting something from me, asking me to pray more or was i just suffering from the bipolar my doctor thought had eased. Any could be true. In my state, I wondered, "Do I take meds for this? Would that show lack of faith?"
No. Of course not.
Last night I took a natural remedy to mixed success, but we as Christians sometimes get caught up in missing helps that we need wondering what God wants. We put our struggles on a continuum of needing help from this world or needing to be tough and stick it out. (Usually driving everyone in our lives nuts.) My take away is get help. Stop sufferring needlessly. Maybe that intervention is just what God wants you to do.
We are forgetful
During my early years of infertility I met some women on a trying to conceive discussion board. Several of us have remained friends for more than ten years, and I've been able to meet a few of them in person. I've met Joanna in person a few times over the years, even though she lives in Florida and I live in Pennsylvania. Although I'm 8 years older than her, we both were married in 2001. Her infertility struggles are due to endometriosis. She tried ivf for the first time in 2006, and the Lord used that to result in her giving birth in 2007. They started the ivf process again in 2009, but she never even made it to the egg retrieval because her body was not responding to an extremely high dosage of very expensive fertility medications. The doctor told her that she would never have another child with her DNA. In 2012 they pursued ivf with donor eggs, and the Lord graciously allowed her to give birth to another boy. In the early years of trying to conceive, every month was an emotional roller coaster, but the last few years she has assumed that any future pregnancy would come only from an embryo transfer. She was no longer on the monthly emotional roller coaster.
Recently she started to experience symptoms that lead her use a pregnancy test, and she was completely thrilled when those two beautiful lines appeared. She couldn't believe that after more than ten years of trying to conceive, she and her husband had conceived without intense medical intervention for the very first time. Unfortunately that little gorgeous line got fainter instead of darker over the next few tests, and a week after she found out she was pregnant, the miscarriage began. I have found myself asking God a few "why" questions. I fear that this pregnancy will reignite her hope and put her back on that dreaded monthly roller coaster. Although she shed many tears over the loss of her baby, she has truly demonstrated the "peace that passes understanding." Joanna recognizes that she is only the clay, and she trusts that the Potter will work this out for good in her life. When she wrote about this experience on her blog, she titled the post "a precious gift." I have never experienced a pregnancy without intense medical intervention, but if I did and it ended in miscarriage, I doubt I would have referred to it as a "precious gift." I am so grateful that the Lord is enabling her to handle this grief in such a gracious manner. I'm praying that He will help her stay off the monthly emotional roller coaster, and that if it be His will, her next frozen embryo transfer will result in a viable pregnancy. Life truly is a very precious gift.
What do you say to someone who has just lost one of the most significant persons in his life? How do you comfort someone to whom this loss is just the latest in a string of the most incomprehensible tragedies in his life? How do you minister life to one who has walked through darkness, death, hopelessness and hell, and still struggles with it on a daily basis? What can you say that doesn't come off sounding hollow and trite, to encourage them to carry on? Is there anything that you can say to convince them that God truly loves them and is for them rather than against them?
We just reconnected with a longtime friend of my husband's, who has lived this out. My husband has walked with this man for many years, and Philip told me that God told him that he would have to walk the extra mile with this one. I just met him and his wife for the first time, and I find my heart drawn toward them both. They are not people who fit those neat little church molds. They are real. Their pain is raw and real, and they have not been taught how to conceal it under the nice little masks that we learn how to wear, although I did notice that he was trying to reign himself in a bit, probably for my sake, having just met me. Something really cool happened when we invited them out for a bite to eat. When we arrived at the restaurant, God moments began to unfold. The owner was there, a rough-cut biker who loves God and loves people and is able to just be real and minster the love of God in such a genuine way. We were able to introduce them, and then other lovers of God randomly began showing up throughout our time with this couple, who were able to minister simple words of encouragement and love and hope in a way that rang true.
I know in my spirit that we are going to continue to journey with this couple, and I am aware that historically, this particular journey has required much grace on my husband's part. I am confident that Holy Spirit will give us grace to just love on them, that He will let us know when to simply listen and be there for them, and that when it is time to speak, He will give us words that will bring life and hope and freedom.
One of the most emotional and touchy subjects that exists, is death. Each of us handles this subject in our own way. Generally, there are five stages of death that one goes through. Some get stuck in a particular stage like anger. Anger, bitterness and resentment are a cluster the enemy uses to destroy a person. Ever see an older person who is cranky? No one wants to be around them and they want no companionship. This is sad but it happens, often times because they never dealt properly with death.
Lately I see decals on vehicles in memory of a loved one. It may be a way to help the person remember and heal, but if prolonged for years, it can be unhealthy. Example; Suppose one is having a particularly joyful day, years after a loved one died. They glance over and see the decal that instantly reminds them of the one who is not there to share their joy. Joy may turn to sadness at a time it did not otherwise have to.
It helps some to visit a grave sight to heal. I don't visit grave sights because the loved one is in heaven or hell, not there. Neither is wrong, it's a simple preference. No one forgets loved ones that have died. They come to our remembrance at times, this is natural, joyful, and a necessary part of life. For Christians, it's simply a temporary separation. It does bring sadness to us because we are separated though.
I have been dealing with the stages of death from my precious Scooby-Doo. I know he was a dog, but he was beloved, like a child to me. I get frustrated with my feelings. I want to breeze through it and move on instantly, grief annoys me. I know mentally that my feelings will change nothing about his demise and I refuse to lay blame or dwell on, if only this or that. So, I deal with these feelings, give myself a break and go on with life, because this too shall pass.
Life is a series of learning experiences. We all have our journey, separation from others that are no longer with us is a part of that journey. Thankfully God is always with His children, helping us and guiding us through all of these difficult times. The question is, are you His? If not, please seek Him.
She took him in sight unseen, no questions asked.
He charmed his way into her heart.
She thought he was adjusting well, but
He covered up a lot.
She started noticing the cracks.
He pretended there was nothing wrong.
She grew suspicious and concerned.
He grew more confident in his deceit.
She reached out to Believers for support and prayer while
He duped them into believing "poor me".
Believers told her maybe things would be different if
She spent more time with her family.
Believers told him that God needed to work on her, and that
He could call them anytime.
She felt like it was all her fault, and
He pointed out that she wasn't a very good mom.
She felt like a failure, but all the while
He continued to chase destruction.
She reached out to Professionals for help.
He appeared to cooperate.
Professionals advised intense therapeutic intervention.
Believers said if she didn't want him, just give him to someone who does.
She missed him for the months he was gone, but while there
He finally came clean.
She was hopeful when he came home.
He acted as if he was better, but then
She noticed him starting to slip.
He said she was overreacting, but
She knew in her heart she was right.
He disappeared in the middle of the night, and
She paced the floor for hours until
He finally came home.
She told him she loves him no matter what.
He said it doesn't matter to him what she says.
She can't control him, and
He will do what he wants.
Professionals will no longer see him.
Believers talk to him, but not to her.
She cries when he isn't looking, and
He isn't speaking to her.
She's angry at his behaviors.
He's angry at everything.
She's frustrated that she can't fix him.
He's frustrated that she won't let him go.
She has great concerns for his future.
He only thinks of what he wants right now.
She prays to God that she won't lose her son.
He can't wait to get away from her.
And to both of them.....
Nothing Else Matters.
My friends give me the best gifts. A picture frame, a painting, and a sparkly, pink Scarf, I treasure each tangible proof of friendship. They help me remember what happiness feels like. Christ is God's tangible proof of friendship. He didn't just swap armor with us, he put on our flesh and ate our fish and pita. He is still with us, transforming our shapeless lump into a vine and branches. His gift is our new way of being, our new relationship to one another. He is the reason we give tangible proofs of our friendship. He is love.
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I was watching children at play. Some children followed the rules, others did not. There were monkey bars, rock walls, swings, and slides. Of course, all the children stood the chance of being hurt. A recent conversation had me thinking about those children.
A lady was telling me that she was helping a person who had been through 'authentic' suffering. I had to know what the difference was. She said, "Authentic suffering is caused by unavoidable tragedy, illness or abuse. Inauthentic suffering is suffering caused by consequences of sin issues. This is to be expected and only helped if a right heart attitude is present."
My mind went back to the playground scene, imagine there is an injured child bleeding and lying on the ground barely moving. In my world, I don't care if he broke rules and fell being careless, was pushed, or just tripped. I'm getting him help by meeting his immediate need. After wounds are wrapped and tears have dried, playground safety should be discussed, but only after the child has reached a place of rest and healing.
It is not my place to ask why or how or judge authenticity, it is only mine to look up, realize it could have easily been me, and apply bandages with love and care.
I remember times in my childhood when a parent or teacher wasn't really listening tome when I was talking because they were focused on something else such as reading a newspaper. They would periodically say things like "uh huh," but I eventually figured out they weren't actually paying attention to me. Nowadays technology is a distraction more often than the newspaper. Many people carry around a device that enables them to check their email or Facebook feed all throughout the day. A video that went viral on Facebook recently illustrated this distraction very clearly. I don't own a smart phone, but that doesn't mean I have escaped the temptation to spend too much time on the internet. I know there have been times when my kids have asked me to play with them or read to them, and I've put them off because I was on my laptop. I recently attended a session titled "The Distracted Mom" given by Heidi St. John, and she said that she actually turns off the wi-fi in her house during certain hours of the day so that it will be easier for her to give her children her undivided attention. I am keeping that suggestion tucked away in case I ever find myself unable to keep a tight rein on the amount of time I spend on the internet each day. These years with my children are going to fly by, and I don't want them to have a distracted mom!
All my life I have been taught that we are spiritual beings, yet I find it interesting how easily that is forgotten in the hubbub of everyday living. We get so caught up in our schedules and to-do lists, and if we aren't paying attention, we could potentially miss a "God moment." I read once (and I wish I could remember where I read it) that the Jewish people lived as though absolutely everything they did was an act of worship, whether it was preparing a meal, or performing a job duty, or even just dressing for the day or walking down the street. If this is so, I can see how it would make you more constantly aware of God's presence and His moving in your life.
Last week I began a series of blogs about touchy subjects. I spoke of alcohol. For sake of time, I didn't mention this; I was strongly against alcohol earlier in my life. Later, I was a borderline alcoholic. So I know from personal experience both sides of this subject. I have also researched it. God, research, & implementing rules, helped me to deal properly with alcohol.
I must stop here and say, I do not in any way think I am a guru of any subject I blog about. Nor will I attempt to blog about a subject I have no personal knowledge of. So, with that in mind, if you do not entirely agree with anything I have to say in a blog: please take it in stride, if time allows please research things I give you information about, and above all please seek God. If you still think I am completely off the mark, please pray and ask God to show one or each of us what is incorrect. No one benefits by becoming upset.
A dear friend gave me feed back about last weeks blog. Particularly the comparison I made between diet beverages and alcohol. I've researched, listened to doctors, a bio chemist and preachers about the substance aspartame, in diet beverages. I have personally dealt with it's affects. If one were to research aspartame in an unbiased manor, they would find that it has detrimental effects on the body, which was my point. Example; aspartame turns into wood alcohol when heated. So yes, it has similar effects to alcohol at times. As all substances, aspartames affects may very from each individual. It is a personal preference and one may choose to do as they desire. I'm not judging, rather clarifying, and hopefully giving someone helpful information they were previously unaware of.
I sincerely ask those of you who would be so inclined, to pray for this blog and all it's contributors. We endeavor to enrich the lives of our readers and glorify our Heavenly Father. May our efforts and those who read this blog be blessed. Thank you.
The kicker came at the very end. She signed her name, dated it, and wrote "PS..I love you". Cue the tears..... Many parents hear those words from their kids all the time. We don't. Oh, we say them, but only 2 of our kids usually return them.
There is a thing out there called Reactive Attachment Disorder. During infancy through about 3 years old, we learn how to bond and attach to our caregivers. When this process is interrupted by abuse, neglect, or the abrupt loss of a caregiver, it can cause trauma and make it difficult to attach to other humans. One of my kids has this diagnosis on paper, and a few of the others exhibit the signs. They either have no boundaries with humans and become almost obnoxious with their need for affection, or they go to the other extreme of always maintaining their distance and never letting their guard down to accept any kind of affection.
Since being placed back with us at age 5, this adorable girl has always kept her distance. She responds to "I love you" by turning around and walking away. If I reach for her hand, she pulls away. There is no cuddling on the couch watching a movie, no painting her nails (she does it herself), no tears when she gets injured, no calling out for me at night when she is sick. When she had surgery last month, I sat by her hospital bed waiting for her to wake up and brushing her hair back out of her face. Still unconscious from the anesthesia, she reached up and pulled her hair back across her face and pushed my hand away. This is how ingrained her response to affection is....for now.
When I saw the "PS I love you" written on that page, it took my breath away. It wasn't a slip of the tongue. It was written. Which means she thought about it, and she chose to write it.....because she meant it.
As a mom, I feel a deep seated need to get it right. On some levels not just right, but perfect. Somehow, I wish to have a gleaming home, hot delicious homemade dinners, and kids that have been played with just the right amount to make them feel loved. No one has put this on me, it came from within.
My mother is wonderful, complicated, fun, kindhearted, and human. There were golden moments and not moments not so absolutely perfect. My whole life I knew I was loved. My whole life I knew my family would be together because of her love for my father and us girls. She brings security.
As I contemplate my childhood I see perfection is an impossible goal. As I sit and watch my own children today, struggling with exhaustion, doing all the chores I normally have to do, admiring the handcrafted artwork, and feeling the love of my children, I put down the unholy yoke of perfect and try to be a mom that loves like glue.
The goal we can achieve without depression, anxiety, pressure, and guilt is wonderful. Wonderful and perfect are subtely different, but that difference is profound. Wonderful includes mistakes and triumph over difficulty. Perfect does not teach anything about adversity. Wonderful gets tired then suddenly finds a second wind sent from Heaven. As I scrolled through facebook posts that ranged from gracious to flat out fabrication, I realized our goal is not to be admired by strangers, but to show love, with all its flaws, to the people we live with: the glorious victors in our family.
On this day of celebration, we gathered to encourage a new mama! I look back over the years of motherhood and am reminded of all of those joyful days, my heart is full. With the addition of each child there is so much excitement and anticipation.
Last month was a very, very hard month for me for a wide variety of reasons. My husband started cancelling his job interviews without any idea as to what he might like to do instead of teaching at a university. The chair of one of the searches met with Paul and talked him into rescheduling the interview. We were amazed that he was given two chances to interview for the position. Paul was the last person they interviewed, and his interview took place on April 14. He had been told he would hear something within 7-10 days; after that much time had passed, we assumed that they had offered the job to one of the other candidates. Paul had declined the interviews at two other schools, so we thought he'd have to find some other random job that had nothing to do with his degree in chemistry. We were pleasantly shocked when he received a job offer on May 1st from that university where he interviewed on April 14. He got his master's degree at that school, and it is only 15 minutes from our house. We are so thankful that my husband has a job for another year, I get to stay home with my kids for at least one more year, and we get to stay in our current house for another year. When my husband told me the good news, the first thing that came to my mind was the song "God will make a way." The lyrics say "God will make a way when there seems to be no way. He works in ways we cannot see. He will make a way for me. He will be my guide, hold me closely to his side. With love and strength for each new day, He will make a way." Thank you, Lord, for making a way where there seemed to be no way!
There are touchy subjects we avoid in church. One such subject is consuming alcohol. Do I drink alcohol? Yep. However, I have personal rules that line up with scripture. I do not drink for the purpose of becoming drunk. I usually put mineral water or ice in my beverage so that I am hydrated, and am therefore less likely to go over that edge. I don't drink in front of others that I know will be offended, or that I may cause to sin.
Oh I know, some of you are saying, "NOOO, you can't be a Christian and drink". Ah, yeah ya can. It's like a pastor said, "You can smoke and go to heaven. You may smell like Hell and look like Hell, but that doesn't mean you are going to Hell". I see Christians drink diet soda-pop. Ah, diet pop has Aspartame, a drug that is as addictive, if not more so, and more harmful to the body then alcohol. Don't believe me, go to www.msgtruth.org and look up Aspartame, they explain the chemical effects on the body scientifically. Basically neither are good for the body, but there are times that alcohol could be helpful. Anyone ever have cough syrup? Look at the ingredients? It's mostly alcohol, because in that case, it's helpful. Ever put whiskey on a child's gums to stop the teething pain? My husband's mom did & it worked. In the bible, the good Samaritan used wine and oil to pour on the beaten man before binding up his wounds. These things have been used for generations.
Am I saying that it's o.k. for all to drink? Not at all! There are those that if they did, to them it would be sin, and others may become drunkards. I myself have had issues in the past with this, truth be told. So, I came up with the above rules that serve me well. Another thing I became aware of during that time is; we are not judge, jury of others behaviors. What may be sin for one, may be fine for another, EXCEPT for those things specifically mentioned in the bible to not do, like the ten commandments. Loud and clear here, OBEY THE TEN COMMANDMENTS. If alcohol makes your judgement so distorted that you may then break any of the ten commandments, it's best to stay away from it all together.
In short, if it's a commandment, do what those say. If you have doubt as to whether it's o.k. for you to drink, stay away until you get peace from God either way. Then go with what He says to do. Also, don't judge others if you see them drink, because you aren't God or the general manager of the universe. It's best when we view touchy subjects through the prism of God's word, and realize He is in control, rather then ourselves, in all areas.
May is National Foster Care Month. My husband and I went through the process of getting licensed to be a foster home back in 2000. Since that time we have fostered more kids than we can count and have adopted 5 of them. We have had the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of children right here in our own county. Have we always been perfect? Absolutely not.
We are human. We get worn down. We need sleep. We rarely have free time. We aren't always as pleasant and gracious as we would like to be. Some days we are just plain out exhausted. We listen to opinions from folks who have never walked our path.We kick ourselves for our inability to fix our kids. Yet we get up each morning and do it all over again praying that somehow we will connect with them.
Most days it seems as if progress eludes us, but then we will have an encounter that reminds us why we continue to reach out. I was sitting in a waiting room and a young boy (18 or 19) struck up a conversation with me. A few moments later, he asked me if I was a foster parent. I said that I was. He then went on to say "I stayed at your house". My mind started reeling....I didn't recognize him and was trying desperately to remember him. Then it clicked.
He was only with us for 3 days. He was 11, and had been dropped off with the torn up, filthy, sweat pants and a dirty white t-shirt that his birth mom forced him to wear as a humiliating punishment. His shoes were falling apart and he didn't have any socks on. I remember talking to him as he helped me load the dishwasher after dinner. He broke into my thoughts by saying "You made spaghetti that night. It was the best spaghetti I ever had".
I blinked back tears at his compliment. It had been a box of pasta and a jar of Prego, but to him it was an act of kindness that he still remembered 8 years after the fact. I had no idea how much those few days impacted him. I didn't even remember his name....but he remembered everything.
sales. Other mistakes occurred, but they were minor and can be overlooked for this first time event.
