Practiced Silence

 I feel like I've been fighting against silence my entire life.

When an older boy invited a few of us 1st grade girls to sit on his lap on the swing and then put his fingers in our underwear--I pretended to fall off of him, without a word. I told my mom...and I think another little friend who said he did the same thing to her. I think we told a few other girls to stay away from him. Our teacher told us not to tell anyone else because then those people would tell others and eventually so many people would know. My mom told the authorities at the school immediately and I *think* I remember having to repeat it to police? But I could be remembering wrong. The boy had to leave the school.

Later, I was told my dad was not my biological dad. I did not realize what it really meant for my heart and soul. That is when the lies of my heart and fragmenting of my identity began because from that moment on--I was NOT who I SAID I was. I thought I was 'brown' but I wasn't. When I was a teen, I wanted more information and my mom refuse to tell me anything. She said she was not ready. Again, silence. I was forced to carry the burden of her secret and that was unfair.

Between there somewhere, I was getting groped by a close member of the family. I don't remember when it started but I had decided I had to take care of myself. I handled it, in silence. Unfortunately, as a kid, I would sometimes forget again, and there he was. Always ready for me to forget and walk by too close. 

It all came out when I started triggering with a boy friend in high school. I was fine the entire summer we spent making out. I broke the silence but...it accomplished nothing. He was allowed back in our family's life. An even closer family member, swears he molested his daughter. I was told she admitted it. But so? Nothing changed except if he was around, we all acted as if he wasn't. We blocked him out in silence...until he just faded away. He's still here. He even spent years coaching girls sports. Everyone practiced the silence now. For who's benefit? At what cost? 

I verbally fought with my mom a lot in high school. I felt this rage inside--I think it was the silence trying to escape--fighting for a way out. I was never known for 'being quiet'. I was sassy as heck. Always my 'mouth' that 'got me in trouble.' But so many words I wasn't allowed to express. 'Why didn't you protect me?' came out as 'I HATE YOU!'

Let me not forget the moment I was told a female can not be a pastor. Because the Bible says. That's the verdict. No debate, no question. Women are not allowed to speak...in the church. 
But the marriage. The marriage provided the strongest silencing influence. There are still events I have never shared aloud and I don't know if I ever will...or can. But mostly, my voice is returning. It's not raging anymore. It's controlled and assertive, or written...mostly.

Where Else Can I Go?

When you show up to church heavy hearted, heart broken, grieved over your own brokeness...and friends unexpectedly bless you. 

What demonstrations of Christ's unconditional love and grace. When I'm less than deserving and want to hide from His divine presence-but I show up anyway. Where else can I go? Where can I hide from His presence?

So I bring my shame and He brings me flowers? He showers me with gifts. Not because He approves but because He continues to love, even when He does not approve. In that space of safe love and acceptance, I am convicted and corrected. May I never miss an opportunity to share this same abundance of grace and forgiveness toward others, that has been shown me. 

❤💔❤

If I Don't Reach the Promised Land, Beyond the Curse of the Desert Wilderness

We've all been there in the midst of a trial-that moment when we look back and long for the past. Just as the Israelites, in the middle of their own wandering, began to view their past of slavery and bondage, through the filter of rose colored lenses.

Maybe it wasn't so bad? At least it was familiar, predictable...safe.

We can read their story with the privilege of it's entirety. We know how it's going to end.

In our own lives though, we don't know the ending. And that scares us! We get uncomfortable. We do not like change. We want what WE want, how we want and when we want it. Of course.

We know how that ended with the Israelites--the generation of Moses never entered the Promised Land. What a punishment and what they are forever known for.

God is never that cruel though.  Perhaps, there was solace and even a redemptive quality to their lives that has been over looked?

The Israelites that didn't reach the Promised Land, are also the generation that led their families OUT of slavery! Into FREEDOM!

After generations of bondage, they were finally free. Their children were free, no longer subject to the whims of a master or genocidal pharaoh. Their grandchildren would grow up free.   This is significant.

Many of us face and endure the wilderness journey at times. The heat and barrenness of the desert, where refreshment and reprieve are only a mirage. Admittedly, I have been in that place for more than a few years now. I have been guilty of looking back at times, longing for the comfort of my own slavery and bondage.

Until God reminded me of what is ahead AND the importance of the present. Not only for me, but for generations to come. I have done this. I have led my children out of slavery. They will step into the Promise Land. They will have the strength to knock down walls and take back what is theirs.

They could not move into their own promise if we had not walked into the freedom of the desert. There is no going back. Regardless of the environment, our freedom can not be taken from us. Freedom from negative patterns of behavior that were being practiced and taught by example.

The Israelites stood in the gap between slavery and freedom. Someone had to. Someone had to take the first step and cross over. Someone had to make the choice and be brave, venturing out into the unknown, without a map! Their wilderness journey served a purpose whether they ever entered the Promise Land or not. 

Someone has to stand in the gap. I made that choice. If I never step into the Promise...It will have all been worth it to watch my children walk in the truth of freedom.

Be Brave.

I'm grateful I was disowned.

SO! That's quite a title isn't it? Here we go...

There once was a girl, of only 16 years. Maybe she thought she was in love, maybe she was simply hoping someone really loved her. Whatever she was thinking or feeling, cost her childhood. Without knowing, she grew up in one night, as her future was conceived in her womb. Along with a baby, grew a burden of shame and guilt that she would carry for the rest of her life. Added to that was a nagging doubt she had made the wrong decision. Oh, not to have the baby and accept motherhood.

She made a life altering decision that she would never know for sure was the right one. She chose the father of her baby. She didn't leave it up to biology or chance. She took back her power and made the best decision she could, with the knowledge and skills she had at the time. She didn't live long enough to know it was the right one all along.

I have though.

I connected with my biological father a few years ago via facebook. He was never part of my life. He would say it was my mother's choice, shirking any personal responsibility. I know enough of the legal system, if he truly wanted to be in my life, nothing and no one could stop him. I was over that though. Willing to accept him as is and allow him into a small part, at least digitally through social media. My personal life was falling apart at the same time so it was all I could handle.

Fast forward to the past month. I discover that I have another brother. A biological half brother, who shares a father with me. Strange. He is quickly accepted by the extended paternal side of our family and by our father...for about three minutes. Then he was denied. I question bio-daddy about this and, oh about three minutes later, I was virtually disowned via social media. Since that was the only way I had to connect with him, I no longer can. Just.Like.That.

Here's the thing though. The real point of this post.

In that moment, when it all went down--though I felt shocked, I mostly felt immense gratitude. Confirmation that almost 45 years ago, my mom made the BEST choice ever. For me, for her, for the man I REALLY call dad. He was the best thing that happened to us. He is an amazing father. He also, did the best he could with the skills and knowledge he had. He stayed. He loved. He chose fatherhood, even as a teenager. He chose me.

One brief, shocking moment brought a lifetime of clarity...and healing. Resentments I didn't even know I had toward my parents, nothing major, self-centered, residual, teenage angst I didn't even perceive I had been carrying around-was healed in the realization that I was so blessed with the father who raised me.

All the work I've been doing on myself, working through heart ache to self-care, healing and being emotionally and mentally healthy and whole, was also demonstrated when I didn't react brokenly by bio-daddy's unwarranted shunning. I clearly saw his brokenness and let him carry it.

How could I have seen my own growth? Is there another way to practice gratitude but when you experience loss? Or are unjustly mistreated? How can you not be grateful for the distance from madness? Once again, I have been reminded...the separation is the rescue.

Thank you mom. You made the right choice.

When Christ Just Sits There...

Click this picture to hear a song that perfectly conveys what I'm sensing.

What I'm learning for right now, is that we need to *sit* in the present sometimes, as uncomfortable and messy as it may be. Sit with the depression, the pain, grief, loneliness, heartache and heart break, that has no cliche way out or quick fix. Acknowledge the darkness and recognize, Christ sits in it with us. Sometimes he's shoveling the manure with us and sometimes he's sitting in the pit with us. 

We can't rush or 'think positive' the pain and disappointment away. We can't pray or worship it away. We can pray and worship with the pain and disappointment right beside and even IN us...and I think that is the sacrifice. 

He did create us to feel the depths of anguish, as much as we can as humans, then it makes the light so much brighter and the beauty so much more brilliant. 

Don't give up. Lift your face, with your tears, if you have them, to the one who knows and understands. You are not alone, not forgotten. He hears you.

I Have Enough Time...

I've only got this life...someday, sooner than yesterday, my body will lie in a wooden box. So it makes sense to me, I should try and get used to the woods as much as I can! {did you catch that?} Haha.

 Seriously though, my birthday is in a couple days, & my mother's been gone almost 10 years now. When she died, I realized how much more I wanted to live. Live a good, full, rich life. Not shallow and afraid. Loving fully and honestly. Investing in others, primarily my own people but also investing in myself. Enjoying all the moments I could. Appreciate and forgive all. You find the real freedom there, in the simplicity of gratitude. 

My mother ran out of time too soon and she felt it. I won't though. I will have filled pages, books and libraries of time with all of me. With all my inhales and exhales. 

Yesterday, I filled a small space of time with peace, lying on a boulder, with the wind chill and the sun warming, near a cascading waterfall, with my eyes closed. Life isn't a rush for me. I won't wait 'until I have the time.' I'm taking it now and spending it wisely. It's all I have and all I can give. This life is amazing, why wouldn't it be? 

Thank you mom.

"If You Don't Respect Your Husband..."

"...he will never come back," the prayer partner told her, after she had tearfully and vulnerably shared about incidents of abuse she had experienced.

"Well...don't provoke him," the pastor's wife said when she asked for prayer, looking for guidance, explaining the fear and confusion over his growing volatility toward her.

"You know...sometimes things get out of hand. Next time, maybe just take a walk, until things cool down between the both of you," was the first response she ever heard, from the assistant pastor--that time she felt afraid because he threw something at her...then pulled the phone cord out of the wall so she couldn't call anyone for help.

The moment he started telling his side, she knew there was nothing she could say otherwise. She sat on the corner of the couch across the room from both of them, staring at the floor, fighting the tears as they laughed lightheartedly, changing the subject. Defeated.

Dismissed.
Discounted.
Denial.

The "non-believer" told her, "Yah, just get the f*** out!" By then though, she was understanding, forgiving, he was under a lot of stress, they just needed to leave until he came to his senses, used to making excuses for him. 

These were pivotal points, defining moments, in her marriage and life when she reached out. She was looking for help, not condemnation. She didn't need more guilt, shame and blame.

She was young, impressionable and lacking any confidence she had come into the marriage with. What did she know? She didn't even know what abuse was--as she obviously couldn't recognize it as it was happening to her. That's not something that would or could happen to her. She wasn't the type of person something like that happens to. She would never be involved with someone like that.

How many times does it need to be said, to be taken seriously? How early does a concern need to be voiced, before it is believed? Obviously, if it was that bad, she would have left, or at least mentioned it, sooner. Of course.

How bad is that bad?

One time, she did go the police. However, the threat she reported was not accompanied by an actual plan as to how that threat would be accomplished...so there was nothing they could do. Years later, a plan would be admitted, verbalized. She was too shocked to do anything. Like all those who had dismissed her voice, she was now just like them. She discounted her own voice and concerns. Her own brain had bought into all the other voices.

The loudest voice, smiling when he spoke gently now, "You know I didn't mean it. People say things like that when they are mad."

No. People don't sometimes lose control.
No.  It has nothing to do with respecting a husband or not.
No. A lack of self control needs no provocation.

But don't make him look bad. This is a private matter.

Yes, yes it was a private matter. Perhaps that's exactly why it happened.

Spiritual Paralysis

How many times, as Christians, do we sit around and do NOTHING in the name of "wanting God's perfect will?" You get an idea or you have a calling, you wait for it, but when the opportunity finally presents itself, you decide to backup...and say, 'I'll pray about it.'

You weren't praying about it already? I call BS! It's fear, plain and simple. Based on whatever your perception of God is. If you view Him as a condemning God waiting to punish you, you are afraid to 'get in trouble.' If you view Him as loving and quick to forgive, you most likely aren't afraid to take risks and make mistakes.

There is no fear in love.

But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. 1 John 4:18

Fear has to do with punishment...You are NOT going to 'get in trouble' if you make a mistake. God will tell you which way to go, it's called correction. If you are going the wrong way & lost, don't you want someone to give you the correct directions?

Are you a perfectionist, afraid of doing it wrong? Why? You don't have to *earn* God's love! Let it go! His love is free not earned.

As Christians, we've got to get off our @$$es and DO something already. Whatever that is that you've been called to do.

The wilderness of the Israelites wasn't a 40 year punishment, it was preparation. Not being allowed to enter the promise land? That was a consequence of fear and doubt-not trusting God, turning to idols for salvation. The wilderness experience was all about learning to trust God in freedom as much as trusting God in captivity.

We are given promptings from the Lord, then we turn around and say, "I just want to do God's will." Or "I don't want to do the wrong thing." Well, doing NOTHING is the WRONG thing!

Apply for the job! Start the business! Write the book!! It's not that complicated people. If it's not His will, guess what? You WON'T get struck by lightning for it. He'll simply tell you, go the other way. The verse in Isaiah assures us, He will tell us which way to, AS we're walking. He can't very well tell you to turn right or left if your still sitting on the couch! 

What are you waiting for?

No, you can't fix it momma...

It's a harsh moment of grief when your children tell you they would like you to 'move on' and 'get involved' (meaning fall in love and get married) with someone new, not for your own happiness but for theirs. So they could feel loved instead of rejected, feel financially supported instead of lack.

My heart breaks.

It's one thing to carry your own burden of hurt but when you see your children hurting, it's an unstoppable ache.

I know that desire. The feeling of being unwanted regardless of how much love and acceptance surrounded me. Nothing could satisfy the longing that plagued my heart from the biological connection that never was.

The emptiness that formed and shaped my self prescribed identity.

Now, as a mother, I know that nothing on earth can fill that emptiness, not a man, a lover, a father or husband.

It's a God gap we all carry.

It manifests in different forms and we create a word or a blame for it. Maybe it was daddy or mommy, husband or wife, maybe it was grandma or a different type of unspeakable trauma...that left us battle worn and gun shy. Feeling lost and alone at times, still a trembling little kid in a cynical adult body.

We don't realize when we're young usually. At least I didn't. It was that ignorance that got me here, I think.

I was sure my marriage and family would be my happily ever after. 

Not, instead, a series of before and afters.

I can't fill the holes in their hearts myself. I could try and burden myself with guilt, shame, regret, distraught over my never ending efforts. Only to come the same conclusion...There's nothing I can do. I am not the great healer. How I wish I was. I wish I could fix it all. I wish I could love the emptiness out of them. Love the pain away.

My fractured love would only be a temporary band-aid at best.

My tears flow for all of us.

Not because I feel the situation is hopeless, but because I feel it deeply too. I feel the pain for all of us. The grief is real. Loss is real. Trauma is real.

We're all carrying it, looking for the answers, often in the wrong places, creating what feels like, a bigger mess than before.

We're looking for black and white, and creating a mash-up in shades of grey.

It won't work.

I can say that I believe God.

I trust Him.

He is the only perfect Father.

The perfect One.

The perfect everything.

I have seen Him work in my children's hearts and lives.

He produces good fruit.

He is the only one who could heal our hurts.

Heal our hearts.

How I wish it was as easy as finding a new man, a new father, a new lover.

I had a father. A good one too.

He wasn't the one.

He loved and accepted me, while in my mother's womb, and yet...

My heart still yearned for the one that wasn't there.

As Christ knelt in that garden crying, "Abba, Father..." (Mark 14:36)

Our hearts still cry out, "Take this from me!"

Though often, in silence.

He knew our longing to feel close.

It starts there, with the Father.

God is the good Father.
There is none other like Him.
He hears you momma.
He hears your children.
He is not far from you.

I don't have to fix it and neither do you.

Our attempts would be mediocre at best.

I leave it in His hands.

I will show my children that someone else, is not the answer, and never will be. It's a grief that needs to be felt, even deep. Through it, glory is revealed. I don't know how or when. I only know God is the answer. Another man, lover or husband is not going to make all my, or their, pain go away. If it could, my family wouldn't be where it is today.

Nothing can satisfy.

Pursue God, momma, with all that is in you, or even just a fraction of what is in you, if that is all you have. Pursue Him and keep pressing forward. You will win this race and you will finish well.

We Need The Son

This lovely succulent arrangement was accidentally left covered. The plants are strong and drought tolerant, meaning they don't need much water. However, you see what happened when they didn't have sun. 

You may be strong, sturdy, not easily worn down...but if you don't have the SON, shining down on you, it won't matter. No one can live in darkness...and survive. 

What About Our Young Women?

Look...there's lots of talk about the breakdown of youth being brought up in and remaining within 'the church', talk and stats of fatherless young men growing up in our communities, the flight risk of teens...

All this talk...are we over looking what the world vs the church is showing and offering or not offering our *young women*? The world fights for equality, empowerment and a strong female voice. Are we modeling that for our young women, within and from the church?

We can TALK all we want but if we're not WALKING it-we've lost already. How many camps, conferences or youth events can I allow  my daughter, one of my most prized gifts, to attend, where all she sees and hears are men speaking AT her!?! 

And NO, I am not satisfied with the ONE token young woman being thrown 'up there' to share a 'brief testimony' so we can tell ourselves we 'support female leadership'. Our girls and young women need SUBSTANCE and mature female voices being recognized, empowered and heard from within!

As a Jesus loving & following mother, I most certainly can {and will} continue to influence *from home*... But don't act surprised when young women {and/or their mothers} decide there's no place, purpose, or need for them *at church*.

What if Proverbs 31 Wasn't Written for Women?

Proverbs 31 has come to be known as a standard for Christian women to live by...or up to. Books, devotions, and blogs have been written about it, with just as many agendas.

Its upheld as the one chapter of the Bible, as thee chapter, on instructing women how to be Godly women.

Funny, considering the book is written as a representation of verbal instruction a mother is giving her son. 

What if we started reading Prov 31 as if males were the intended audience?


With that thought, Prov 31 reads as a book with instructions for every member of the family...not just women...and it reminds others of the *value* & *equality* of women...

The opening credits have most commentators speculating in agreement that it is a written representation of an oral instruction to King Solomon, from his mother, Bathsheba. WHY are we then using it to instruct women? Why did Bathsheba give her son these instructions, that seem to highlight all the capabilities of a female of their time?

During Old Testament times, women were regarded as nothing more than a piece of property to be bought, sometimes sold and with out many, if any, rights of individual personhood. Yet, here is Bathsheba, extolling the virtues of a cunning, intelligent woman who has many gifts, talents and abilities, a shrewd business woman, whom she describes as honorable and noble (vs 10). The woman described in Proverbs 31, actually sounds like a very independent female. She can handle her business, provide for her family and afford servants (vs 15), she produces a profit (vs 18) from her work. Her children and husband call HER blessed (vs 28). She is compassionate and shares what she has with the poor (vs 20). She is a realtor and property owner (vs 16), seamstress (vs 22, 24), teacher (vs 26), and more. Does this sound like a chapter describing a piece of property? 

Perhaps, Bathsheba was giving her son a call to action. Challenging him to recognize the true Godly value of females, as God created them to be...not as objects to be demeaned, bought, sold, used and abused, but as intelligent, capable, independent human beings who should be held in as much high esteem as the males around them.

Maybe Bathsheba was going against the current belief system of female inferiority and bringing to her son, a profound thought process to counter act the false beliefs that had been created by men, not God. A voice of reason, alone and still to this day, often over looked.

Many will say, Proverbs 31 was written as a guide on what to look for in a woman, potential bride and mother of a man's future children. Ok, then why is the woman described, already running a household, with children and a husband (vs.11, 23, 28)?

The woman in Proverbs 31 is NOT known by what her husband does. She is never addressed as *so and so's wife*...her husband is addressed as HER husband (vs 11, 23, 28). 

The last verse calls the reader to honor her for what she has done. It does not state to respect her for the achievements of her father or husband. It is a call to praise her for her own achievements and accomplishments. Which means she is perfectly capable of accomplishing them (vs 31) and worth being recognized for them. She does not live in the shadow of anyone.

I challenge, that Proverbs 31 was NOT written as instructions for women to strive to achieve or look like...but as a reminder to MEN, of how God created women. Not as inferior pieces of property. This is the inspired Holy Word of God, isn't it? The reader (men of the day, right?) is reminded how fleeting the outward appearance of a female is...That is definitely advice every young man needs, in order to not make life long relational choices based on looks (vs 30).

I want to know WHY then, are we teaching (brow beating?) Proverbs 31 to women as a standard of femininity? Why aren't we using Proverbs 31 to instruct MEN, how women should be viewed, and not only viewed, but what females ARE capable of? Why aren't we using Proverbs 31 as a warning and admonishment against the oppression of women everywhere? Why don't we quit using it to guide women and start reframing it as an example to men (and women) of how women SHOULD BE viewed, treated, respected, honored and praised.

I'd like to see a Proverbs 31 sermon and theme used for the next men's event.

Proverbs 31 is leveling the playing field and everyone has been ignoring the game!

I Think My Angel Has Tattoos?

I was already 2 hours behind schedule, I thought I had gotten lost twice, I passed the visitor station so my sister-in-love had to go back down a ways to get an Adventure Pass (parking)...to top it off...before she returned and before we even began our Friday Hike Day--I LOCKED MY KEYS IN MY CAR!!!

I could not believe it. Well, isn't that everyone's response when that happens? There they sat, taunting me from the front passenger seat. Ugh. No cell service, nearly two hours from home...Every door locked and window shut.

I lay my forehead against the dirty window and prayed. With all faith, knowing there was no other solution--I KNEW God would make a way. I KNEW He would help me. Somehow, someway...because there was NO other way.

A few rangers pulled into the parking lot and parked, but none approached us. We were obviously distressed. Other cars rolled in, stared but no offers of help or check ins to see if we were ok.

My sister-in-love took apart her car sun shade and pulled out the springy wire. Middle son pulled a strip of twine out from being caught in the door and a bobbi pin. We were ready to MacGyver this!

We got the wire in the window but it was too springy to grasp the lock. I kept praying, knowing the solution would come.

Another car pulled in and a woman got out and hollered over at us, "Need some help?"

"Yah, do you have a Slim Jim?" I asked.

A guy pops his head out from the back seat, "No, but we have better tools than you."

He was right.

He spent the next hour twisting and bending a dip stick he had in his car, to make it possible to grasp the car door lock and pull it up to unlock.

Each time that wire touched the lock, I said another prayer, knowing it would grasp it. When it finally did, a huge, "THANK YOU!" escaped my lips.

I gave this shady looking guy, with the dollar sign tattoo on his hand, who I am sure I never would have spoken to in real life, the biggest hug!

"YOU were the answer to the my prayers today!" I told him.

He was so nice and not once did he even display any impatience at the situation. He was only there because his friend had forgotten his sunglasses the day before...they returned to see if they could find them.

You bet it was a divine appointment!

I was most amazed at the faith and peace I felt within me the entire time. No fear, just peace, in knowing for sure God was going to rescue me and work this situation out.

I have to ask myself WHY I don't have such faith in other areas of my life?

Especially the situations, like this one, that have NO foreseeable solution.

I don't know the answer to that myself.

I feel challenged.

Lord, increase my faith.

Dinner On Me

Two individual dinner meals ready for delivery.

"Did you have a dinner break?" said my co-worker.
"Sort-of. I was going to cook but I remembered it's youth group tonight so I didn't because my kids eat at church on Wednesday nights," I replied.
"I wish I had a dinner break." she said.
"I would have brought you something, if I would have known." I said.
"I would pay for that!" she said.

Dinner On Me was born.

The next day I made a fabulous dinner of green chicken enchiladas, rice and beans and offered it to my co-worker. "What do I owe you?" she asked.

"This one's on me," I replied. On my way out the door, the front desk manager offered to purchase a plate. I walked the three minute walk home and the three minute walk back, to bring her a plate, making it my first official dinner sale.

The first co-worker loved her meal. She and I made arrangements for me to deliver her dinner 5 nights a week while she's working. The tutoring center hours are after school and often right through the dinner hour with out a break for the busiest tutors. This works out splendidly and is a win-win situation for both of us. I am getting PAID to provide affordable, home-cooked, delicious meals--which I would cook for my ktbunch anyway--and she gets to eat real food instead of snacks or fast food.

The remarkable thing is, I never considered myself much of a cook. On my honey-moon I tried to make the Mr, Hamburger Helper (and I did it wrong) because that's what I grew up with and thought *dinners* were. When there were meal delivery sign-ups at church for the new moms, I always declined for fear of my kitchen inadequacy.

I do love to bake and there was a time I thought of offering my home-made-from-scratch pies and baked goods for sale and was told, "No one wants your pies!" I realize now, the comment really had nothing to do with me personally. Considering the source, the individual was speaking from their own place of fear and bitterness. It certainly wasn't encouraging though and I quickly gave up my idea.

I think of this as another point in time, coming full circle. I feel like the Lord is rebuilding me, into a person of wholeness, one redeeming moment at a time.

The Worst Daughter in the World!

Lately, when I feel especially frustrated or who-knows-what-exactly, I hear my mother's voice yelling those words at me. They rise up from somewhere deep and they threaten to escape from my own mouth. I catch them and reign them in before any damage is done and I curse the next generation with the same haunting future wounds.

It doesn't hurt. I don't think it even hurt originally, though that may have been my early days of robot-hood anyway. I suppose my mind tells me it's hurtful. It sounds horrible. Anyone who knows my mom, would find it hard to believe that she would speak such words to me, much less regularly for a season. She was a loving mom mostly and all wounds had been forgiven and left behind by the time she died.

When the memory of her voice rises from within my own heart, I wonder, if she was feeling this same disappointment? Frustration? Or maybe it was rage for everything she had ever dreamt that never materialized in her own life? Feelings I think I am becoming familiar with. I was often reminded of how much she 'gave up' for me, though no specifics were ever mentioned. I didn't care to know anyway since I had no say in the matter. Her choices were her burdens to carry.

I certainly wasn't the worst daughter in the world. Not even close.

Was she full of regret, or suspecting she was, over the youth she traded for the life we were living, together? Did she feel trapped by her past? The past can feel overwhelming at times.  The choices you realize you would not have made, if you had known it would lead you here. Or the choices you WOULD have made. I play out the scenarios and everything is impossible.

When I was still that little girl, I played out the scenarios too. The one where I have a rich daddy somewhere looking for me. The one where I am loved, adored and cherished with all the Barbies I could ever want. The life where I run away and instead of getting in trouble for it, there are tears of joy that I have returned.

I wasn't trying to run away from a life I thought I had...I only wanted to run to a life I thought I could have instead. With out even knowing what type of instead it would be.

When I was 18 years old, I thought I did. Sometimes, this life I ran to, feels very much like the one I ran away from. I didn't see that coming.

The Burdens We Carry

What if the baggage, burdens & concerns of life we carried around, were as obvious as this man's? 

Some of us are good at hiding but what if we couldn't? What if our burdens were in plain sight for all to see, and judge and examine closely?

For some, it is obvious. Our brokenness, our failure, our blatant sin. Does it make us any less or more righteous depending on how obvious we are about it?

 Psalm 68:19 NIV Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens. 

Happy Birthday

He was our 1st restoration baby, though I didn't know he would be the 'first'. I was so unsure of trusting my husband again...our oldest was 7.5 by the time this second son was born...I can STILL remember being in our new home, back together and feeling so self-conscious...

"Come sit by me," he called from the living room. I felt like I should finish the dishes first to keep every thing clean the way he liked, trying to impress...

He wanted me to spend time with him, sit with him...I walked over and he pulled me down on his lap. I always loved sitting on his lap.

He wanted us to grow our family. Maybe we were finally ready. I expected it would happen so quickly like our first. It took 10 disappointing months. We didn't find out the gender. Oldest son prayed for and was sure it would be a boy.

We changed his name at the last minute...as I read about Hannah, from the Bible. The Mr wanted to use his grandfather's name, as our child's middle name. I did not like the name Angel but I said ok if he would let me have the name Samuel. We agreed. 

We started attending a new church. We were moving forward and every day we were further away from the past. I met another mom in the church cry room with a daughter the same age as our Samuel...she was a single mother... her daughter's father, which was now her past, was a married man.

There we were. The place where broken people go to be restored, healed, and transformed. Bringing our broken pieces, broken lives, broken hearts, along with the hope we carried in and birthed from our womb.

Here we are. He's 14 today. My heart is filled with the bittersweet sighs of yesterday and the longing for the uncertain hope for tomorrow.

Surrender

THIS was the THEME of my week, ALL week: SURRENDER! That verse about how WE make our plans BUT God directs our steps kept coming to mind. *I* have somewhat of a weekly summer routine. Everyday this week, my plans were thrown off. I usually consider myself very *flexible* but wow was it a challenge. 

I started to get it by Wednesday, for Bird's birthday...I was about to get upset, literally stopped and said a prayer aloud: God I surrender to YOUR plans. It's NOT my day, this is YOUR day so YOUR will be done! But it didn't quit...Even today I had plans and they did NOT work out. sigh. 

I drove all the way out to the labor dept that offers immediate/walk-in/same-day entertainment work permits. I considered waiting until MONDAY but thought, NO, I am going to BEAT this procrastination and just get it done! 

Maps has it as 45min drive...mid-day, it took about an hour! Ok whatever. The traffic was on OUR side, so figured it would be easier getting home.

Turns out you can not renew a work permit earlier than 30 days in advance....so ONE kid got his and the other 2? I was 2 days too early! So MONDAY would have been PERFECT! Again whatever. So we head home, it's 1:50pm, oldest has to be at work by 3pm. NO worries.

The freeway was PACKED all the the way back. Seriously the traffic was ONLY on OUR side and OUR lanes. haha. He was totally LATE to work.  I felt so bad. He was like an hour late by the time we stopped at the house so he could call and he finally arrived.  We were ALL so drained. It took 1.5 hours to get home.
Later we went to the park to watch an outdoor movie. To top it off in the most ridiculous fashion...we got lost in the local neighborhood, trying to find our car! (there's a lesson worth blogging about later in that, for sure)

Even today...I had to surrender to God's plan, regardless of my own. Surrender is an act of faith for sure. We give up control. When we do, though, we experience peace and freedom. The strife and struggle to make things happen and control a situation, disappears. Surrendering to Christ says; I continue to trust God in all matters. It's a good place to be.

Nice vs Love

"Sometimes he acts like he loves you and sometimes he doesn't!" My daughter said, mirroring my own frustration with her father, my estranged husband.

A red flag went up, activating my mother's intuition and internal warning system. "In what ways does he act loving?" I asked, as questions began to riddle my brain. What impression had I been giving my 11yo daughter about love? What had I been teaching her? Was the behavior she had been witnessing between her father and I, an adequate and accurate description of love?

"Well, he comes and hangs out sometimes, he gives you a hug sometimes and he's nice sometimes..." her voice trailed off.

Is that all she will look for and expect of her own future husband? Is 'being nice sometimes' all it will take to convince her that she is loved? A vision bomb went off and the internal veil of neediness and codependency was lifted. Hopefully, it wasn't too late to be honest with her...and myself.

"Honey, that isn't love, that is just being nice. Lots of people may be nice to you, but that doesn't mean they love you. A mommy and daddy that love each other hold hands, they sit next to each other and snuggle while they watch movies-not on opposite sides of the room. Husbands don't get up and walk away every time their wife tries to sit next to them. And most of all, they don't live in separate homes. Yes, your daddy IS nice to me sometimes, but being nice doesn't equal love...it's just being nice."

I went on to share some of Corinthians definition of love with her.

We must be honest with ourselves here. If we claim God's standard for our lives, this includes being honest, whatever the painful cost. What a disservice we do to our children if we're lowering love to the definition of being nice.

Love is sacrificial. Nice is not. I can't in good conscious, allow my daughter to grow up believing, just because a guy remembers  and brings her a favored candy, that it means he LOVES her. Love is faithful. I can't continue to act grateful and praise God that my husband brings me a bag of peanut m&m's while he goes every night to share an apt with someone else. What a gross misrepresentation and abuse of God's love and the standard He set forth in His Word.

Being nice is a common and basic form of human decency. There is nothing special about that. It is the lowest and most base expectation one can have of other humans we share this planet with.

I am keeping my vows, sacrificially, and that is an example of divine love. How dare we equate a move of God with common behavior as 'being nice'. What a devilish deception to embrace such dysfunction and call it a name of God, such as LOVE!

I will praise God for being God. I will pray for strength to continue to really love my husband, as defined in His word. What I won't do and I believe, must repent from, is being dishonest and calling or representing such deplorable behavior, as 'love'. Lying and telling myself, "My husband loves me, see, because he was *nice* to me today." No, that is untruth. All my husband was really doing, was being nice.

Being nice is selfish and has it’s own agenda. Love...divine love, which can only occur if the Spirit of God dwells within you, is selfless and seeks to gain nothing in return. Nothing. Love does not abuse others...or one's self. Let's embrace God's truth...and emotional health...and pray from that place of power...not from our dysfunctional weakness. ‪

February comes...

It was super windy last night and I took a very long walk because I was upset over a misunderstanding. I felt hurt and dismissed...though I know none of it was intentional, it wasn't handled intentionally considerate either. I took a walk. It was very windy but it wasn't angry wind which I have experienced before too. At least it wasn't when I was out in it. It felt refreshing. This is the wind of change. Refreshing and cleansing, the breath of God.  I felt like a new person after that walk with God. I poured it all out to Him, the one in whom my soul is loved.

All is well and no offense is felt in my heart any more.

Today the kids and I took a walk and you would think after wind like that (which got much worse after I came home) there would be leaves and branches and debris all over but there wasn't! Everything looked clean. I don't think the wind was a destructive force or presence. I really think it was ushering in February.

And here we are.