Escape

Ever need an attitude adjustment and just can't seem to get there? Feeling stuck in your crappy mood/outlook on life. Even knowing that you're entertaining the devil and just decide to let him have at it, because you're too tired to change anything.

It's a pretty dumb place to be.

It's a pretty sad place to be.

It's a pretty bad place to be.

Is this my lifelong struggle - figuring out how to channel it, to deal with my crappy / pessimistic / negative / complaining self, my anger, my melancholic ways? I hate being the spreader of doom. I don't want to be known as "that girl" who people avoid because she always complains about how hard life is or crappy the day is, how challenging the children are, how ... totally wrapped up in his own mind the husband is.

What.  am  I   d o i n g ?

That's what I think just about every time I have a thought, say a word. I'm just ... so...

unloving.


It's gross.

I was doing bad. Really bad. Then I was doing better. Good even. Steady. Now ... bad again.

So what can I do to reset the game? Will a blueberry muffin cure all my woes? Will a shower and a nap change my outlook on life?

Ha. I wish.

I've started reading a couple new blogs (they're related - literally and figurative, offshoots of another). This was part of a comment:

When the ocean waves are crashing over you, 

quit fighting them and dive deeper.

Is that my answer in there somewhere?

What am I fighting? Who am I fighting? How do I quit fighting? Doesn't quit fighting mean simply 'quit'? I can't quit, can I? (Answer: no. I can't. I'm a mom. You don't quit mom. You don't quit life.)

Am I having a tantrum because I'm not getting my way? Can it be reduced to that? Do I just need to "suck it up? Buck up? Don't I say that, so do I need to follow my own advice? Am I being a brat?

What I wish, most of all, is that I could have a 2-week long Hawaiian vacation, sans kids, and come home to find that some amazing team of home organizers/decorators has come in, cleaned, organized, trimmed my windows, put up curtains and painted my walls.


Escapism. That's what I'm dreaming of. I think I need to go put on my happy music, which is all about escaping.

Orphan Dreams

**Sorry about the wonky text/spacing stuff going on. I don't know what happened. I tried to fix it and made it weirder. It's my bedtime so this is how it'll stay.**

I've had this dream. Twice. Not the same dream exactly, but still the same dream. Same theme, same location, similar series of events. The first time I don't think I told anyone, but I remembered it, which is noteworthy in itself. On Sunday morning, I had the dream for the second time, and told my husband because it was just so off the wall, and weird that I'd had it again.

Haha. "Weird."

In my dream,  people are gathering in my small town next to the fire station. In the parking lot, in the street, next to the grain elevator, in an empty lot. Someone, or some group of people, has brought all these orphaned children from Africa. It is announced, "These children need homes. Who will raise their hand to take one?" And they are handed out. 

(The children/babies may have been set on a trailer or something, I can't exactly recall, but I had this strange thought that is was like the auctioning off of slaves - and in fact my hubby said the same thing when I told him the dream. Not that it was cruel or debasing in any way, just the large group of humans, maybe it was because they were black. I don't know. It's not meant to be a racist element, and I don't honestly know that it has much importance, but it was part of the dream so I am including it here. For records sake, if anything.)

I know there were people who volunteered and took babies, but I was there without my spouse, and taking in a baby is not the kind of decision you would want to leave your spouse out of. So I didn't volunteer. I just went home.

The second time I had the dream, we, the town, knew that the babies were coming, though I'm not sure if they were there yet. I remember thinking that it was just like "last time," because I was remembering my previous dream. People gathered in the same place, and again it was said, "These babies need homes. Need love. Who wants one?" This time, however, I thought, "Well, maybe I could take one and just talk to my husband about it later." And this is where the dream ended.

HAHA. I think that's hilarious that I thought that, "just" take a baby home. I would never do that in real life. But anyway... 

Told my hubs, he made his comments, no weird vibes or expectations. Life just carried on as normal, and I left for church.

When I get to church, the sermon and theme was... get this... Orphan Sunday. I kid. you. not.

Ok, so now is when I'm feeling... weird. Not weirded out, but my ears are a bit perked.

Can I just point out that this is how God is so awesome. Even though I don't really take time to devote to God and study and proper Christian things these days, even though I'm going through whatever spiritual journey I'm on, even though it really sucks sometimes, GOD SPEAKS. And he speaks TO ME. It's also his way of inadvertently letting me know I'm in the right place. And that's a good feeling. At least I'm doing something right, if only to show up for church on Sunday.

Our current sermon series is on Isaiah. It's a big book. And God is talking a LOT to the people of Judah. He wants the people to trust Him, to look to Him, to protect them and to be their hope. They're having a hard time with this. (haha. What a unique problem they were having. :D) They need the security of  "flesh." And He keeps trying to persuade them, convince them, to trust Him. When we don't trust God, our religion becomes self-serving. In that, we sense our lack so we hoard and protect what little we have, and we blame others.

I feel that hoarding. As self-preservation, but hoarding nonetheless. And I'm ashamed by it. I also know that it comes from my lack.

We were meant to draw everything we need from God. (Hmmm... this seems to be a recurring theme for me. Wonder why?) We get what we need from Him by trusting. Trust = Faith.

And when we do this, we looooovvvve. We ooze gooey love. Think of a person newly in love. Like that. It comes from where we know not. Certainly not from ourselves. We give generously out of an endless supply (because He is our supplier - of love, too). We experience rest. Sabbath. Not because life slows down or demands are less, but because we trust in Him to take care of our needs and those that need us, and we just sit at His feet, resting and soaking Him in. 

And how does this relate to orphans, you ask? The answer is in Isaiah 58. While you should read the whole chapter (it's not long), I'll just point out this passage:

 ⁶ “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: 

to loose the chains of injustice 

   and untie the cords of the yoke, 

to set the oppressed free 

   and break every yoke? 

⁷ Is it not to share your food with the hungry 

   and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter— 

when you see the naked, to clothe them, 

   and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood? 

At the end of the sermon, a few people shared about how they serve in our community. Big Brother Big Sister program, Refugee Assistance programs - teaching them about and how to live in our community, Royal Family Kids Camp and foster care. I was on prayer team but since no one had come up asking for prayer, I turned to my co-prayer team member. I told her the bit about the dream and just not understanding what it all means but that there's something here and that God would reveal it.

In praying, one of the things that really stood out for me, in a convicting sense, was the love bit. I'm a compassionate person, I have a heart for the lost, the lonely, the cast-aside, especially children. Growing up I knew I had it good, parent-wise. While it may be an easy thing to overlook or not understand it's value, I did. Even then I knew I was blessed. I didn't take that for granted and I see even more today what an impact family has on who we become. Now I'm a mom, a parent, and it's frickin' hard and I worry daily that I'm screwing my kids up beyond repair, wondering what raving lunatic of a mother they're going to remember. Some days, IIIIIII am not enough. IIIIIIIII do not have enough love. I feel like I run out; that I can't give even one more ounce and thank GOD it's bedtime. And I feel bad, ashamed, that as a mother I could say that. I know I could get hate mail for saying that. People would gasp and guffaw at that statement. I'm not shouting this from the rooftops, that's for sure.  

Recently I wrote a bucket list blog post on All My Monkeys. One of the things I wrote down was be a foster parent. (And that could be loosely defined as simply being a stable parent figure for my kids' friends that may come through the door, as I've already talked about too.)

So how does "an orphan" fit into my life, how could I love anyone else? I am lacking, and I know I need to put my trust and my whole life even more into His hands because HE is Enough. 

And finally, after the day was done and I was "resting" and reading some blogs, I clicked onto one that I don't normally read because it's just too much for me emotionally a lot of the time some times. But Sunday, I clicked. Even though I had heard mention somewhere in bloggyland that she might be on a missions trip, because I hate reading those blogger mission trip accounts of all the needy children and it feels like a big guilt session. My mission field currently is my own family and, as I've stated, that's more than I can handle some days. Not that I want it to stay that way, but that's how it is for now. But not even thinking of the earlier events of the day, I clicked to check in, see how it was going. 

And this story laid. me. out. Big, loud, gulping, snotty sobs. Sobs of sorrowful love, love for someone who  has none. Or very little. It kills me. Even now. Cries of 'it's not fair,' and 'how can this be,' and feelings of guilt that I can muster up just a little more to cry for this kid but not to give my daughter 'goodnight hugs and kisses' some nights.

I just need to remember, HE is Enough.

Lots of little pieces of a puzzle. Two dreams, Orphan Sunday, a bucket list item, a blog post about a boy named Jonathan.

I don't know what it means, what the future holds, but I'm listening.

Squeezing

I'm having a squeezing.

And now that I've figured that out, I'm much better. haha

Confused yet?

I'm in a phase/stage of life where things are challenging. To my core. Not all facets of life, but some key ones, like being a mom, being a human. Just the basics.

I have issues, like every other person out there, and they seem to feel free to rear their ugly little head a LOT these days. Temper, anger, idol worship (aka Facebook). Among others. It's when I see that ugliness, feel that ugliness, I just become disgusted with myself, with my actions, my words, my heart, my sin. I don't want to be this way. I want to be better, healthier, happier, more self-controlled. I want the Fruit of the Spirit to flow out of my every pore, so that God's love would touch all who I come across. Which may sound lofty, or dreamy, but I want to be one of those people who people feel better after having come in contact with. I don't think that's weird.

My problem is, I don't really rely on God. I don't have the kind of (intimate) personal relationship with Him that I want. I still feel that call of Going Deeper, being changed from the Inside Out, and the frustration builds at seeing my icky fleshliness, knowing God can change it, but not actually getting to the point where it is changed. Past tense. Done with. 

I'm still waiting for that to be "old news."

In the meantime, I'm going through the crud, the squeezing. I have likened it to a birthing process, with hopefully something wonderful on the other side of all this anguish. It gives purpose to the pain.

Isaiah 40:27 (NLT) says: How can you say the Lord does not see your troubles?

That's often how we feel when he doesn't take us out of our situation or our pain, but He does see them. He's there, in the mess, with us, even in the trials. He has a purpose for that, too.

I have a quote on my fridge that reads:

Choosing joy is 

acknowledging that while I don't understand what's going on,

God does. 

Choosing joy is 

remembering that while life seems to be spiraling out of control, 

it is never out of God's control. 

Choosing joy is

remaining mindful that while my circumstances may feel anything but ideal, 

God still has my good and His glory in mind.

       - Alece Ronzino, Grit and Glory

So while life may all seem a mess, or pointless, or where is God, He's there in that, too. And that mess is not too big or too bad for Him.

Isaiah 40

v25. “To whom will you compare me?

      Who is my equal?” asks the Holy One.

 v28. Have you never heard?
      Have you never understood?
   The Lord is the everlasting God,
      the Creator of all the earth.
   He never grows weak or weary.
      No one can measure the depths of his understanding.

Catch

I can't seem to catch a break, catch a breath, catch a nap, catch a movie. Life is just piling on top of me like the leaves outside my door, only much heavier. Friend upsets, worries about church family and where have all the flowers gone, the fact that my house never stays clean, never gets clean, papers always lost, projects never finished, and we can't keep a frickin' pencil sharpened to save our lives. And God, well, he and I have a communication problem. As someone said to me, it's like we're both sitting there wearing helmets (you know, the motorcycle kind where the glass totally shields your face so you might as well be a spacemen for all the talking you could do in one of those things). Exactly! I still feel the calling, the yearning for Deeper, and to be changed from the Inside Out. And I need him. I need him for all that. Because my life as a human seems to be crushing me some days (not today, or, not yet) and I need a lifeline, a life preserver. A safety net for my kids who have gotten "crazy, bad mommy" way too many times in the last week, month, season, year. And when  you're failing at the most important job in the world, and just knowing you're screwing them up and probably scarring them for life, yeah, well that sucks.

"In Christ alone my hope is found." Yes. There's the hope of that. Some days, though, it seems out of reach. I can't seem to catch hold of it.

I'm so glad God has grace for all that.

The possibility that this all is God squeezing me, like in birthing, that this is all part of his process to bring about new life, is strangely calming. Purpose to pain. I can deal with that. After all, Lord knows I love childbirth.

Fruit and Wisdom

Sometimes it's hard not to give satan "airtime." You know, when we waste our thought life on things that we shouldn't. When we have "stinkin' thinkin'."

But when you have interpersonal exchanges of the unsavory sort, it sort of gets your world, (and your heart and mind and emotions) all riled up.

The sermon series my pastor is doing right now is on James.

It's good. Very good.

Last week it was on James 1 and Persevering in Difficult Times.

As I sat there, I could have sworn that my pastor was looking at me like he was "reading my mail." I was seething in anger regarding said "unsavory interpersonal exchange" and much of the message was basically telling me how to proceed. I took note, though I basically "knew it all", but in hindsight (it's always 20/20, isn't it?) it was so much more on target than I realized. An unheeded warning. sigh. 

To say I failed in my subsequent interpersonal exchanges would be fairly accurate. I tried. I honestly tried, except that "I" tried, and forgot to give it to God and let Him deal with the whole stinkin' mess. I just simply didn't really seek Him earnestly.

James 1: 2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. 4 Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. 5 If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. 

Romans 5: 3 Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope. 5 And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.

Basically, this all says that troubles, which God never promises to keep us from, are for our Chraracter Development. Can I hear a big rousing "yay"? Uh, no? Yeah, I thought so. lol But as it says in James, "he should ask God" what the lesson is, how he wants us to grow in the face of that trial.

It is apparent

that I have a lot yet to learn.

I struggle with anger. I know this. I just. don't. know. what. to DO. with it. I don't know where it comes from, how to get over it or through it or around it or avoid it or lay it down, hand it over. How do you really do that? I thought I knew, but this, this really challenges me. I don't. know. how.

When faced with conflict, I'm more than willing to jump in, deal with it, so we can wrap things up nicely and all move on. I don't like sitting on things. The whole 'don't let the sun go down on your anger' thing. Works for me.

But not in this last situation.

I, uncharacteristically, needed time. Time to cool. Considering the volatile nature of both the situation and the personalities of the individuals involved (me being one of them), I knew that no good would come with my normal way. Nope, I decided to let it sit. To calm myself. Because I didn't trust myself to speak kindly. To remain calm. To resist the devil.

Unfortunately, the devil did not resist me. He poked poked poked until I threw my hands in the air, said "Fine, have it your way," and resigned to the fact that, try as I might to reign in my emotions and verbal spewage, there was bound to be some carnage. I didn't want that, but I didn't know how to avoid it.

sigh again.

So imagine my surprise when the next sermon, about Discovering Wisdom, was just up my alley too. After a week of getting beaten down by my friend satan, I was tired, sad, betrayed, mourning, weak, shameful. I listened to the list of all the things I wanted to be, tried to be, and was not. Failure. I fell under the power of the enemy. 

James 3: 17 But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. 18 Peacemakers who sow in peace raise a harvest of righteousness.

I was reminded that in order to receive "true wisdom" from God, that I needed to ask. And that in asking comes that fruit from heaven, that fruit of the spirit.

I love the Fruit of the Spirit verses. 

Galations 5: 22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23gentleness and self-control. 

In things my pastor said, things I thought about later, and that last bit of verse (James 3:18) is that it's not the fruit of  your name here;  it's the fruit of the Spirit. Fruit grown by the Spirit, not me. And fruit is gotten how? By planting, and tending, watering, feeding, nurturing, pruning and plucking. The harvest comes after much work and care.

*sigh of relief*

See, we can try as we might to conjure up peace or patience or self-control, but our "harvest" will be lacking. It's through the Spirit growing in me that cultivates those Godly characteristics. 

So... if I want that... I have to... seek Him.

Takes so much weight off my shoulders. That sense of failure becomes my lesson. God didn't really expect me to do it all on my own. He wants me to lean on him.

Thus saith the lord.

giggle.

Backwards

I had a semi-intense discussion with my husband about tithing over the weekend.

When I think about tithing, I sort of doing it in order to receive his blessings. Like an insurance payment that he'll take care of us, prevent bad stuff from happening, make things go smoother.

Yes, I realize that's wrong thinking. (I did say "sort of" so I also know and do it for right reasons, too.)

This week has certainly not added up to great; my insurance payment idea didn't work.

A friend went psycho on me, producing a rise of anger in me, which then overflows to areas it should NOT. My kids have gotten sick, thus preventing me from seeing a friend from out-of-town. My kid kinda lost his new shoes. There was a major snafoo in the checkbook. (Fortunately, I didn't pay the water bill - check's still in my pocket - so I don't think we'll bounce, but I can't find an important receipt to actually know for sure, and the charge hasn't come through yet. :P ) And I slammed my ankle with the car door Tuesday, and it still hurts.

Oh, and my dad found out he has some sort of crazy disease (to add to the list of all the other ailments and diseases he already has) which will make a very much needed surgery much much more challenging, if it can be done at all. It's really hard to watch your parent/s suffer.

There's more, but I'm tired of thinking about it.

Today has not been a good day so far, and it has me wondering, thinking. Thinking about my wrong thinking. Wondering how much more can I take? How much more is there? When will my help come?

It's hard to be thankful sometimes. Today is one of those days when I have to be thankful for the basics, like health and breath and my family that makes me whack-o.

Oh, hey. I know.... Dillon hasn't crapped his pants in 2 days. That's good.

Challenge

caaaallllllling... caaaalllllling... I feel it caaallliiinngggg.

You know that feeling you get when you're supposed to do something but you don't want to so you try to avoid it. Like an apology for snapping at your neighbor/friend/child/spouse. Cleaning out that closet that you haven't been able to step into for months, anticipating it's gonna be a pain. Going on a diet 'cause your pants no longer fit. It's a quiet, nagging sense.

Yeah. I have one of those callings.

I acknowledged the call for Deeper. I tried in my simple way to go there. It didn't work. And I was frustrated. Partly because it was my fault, my lack of dedication or intention that didn't bring me there. So I abandoned the whole deal. Capooey. Who needs it.

But I still feel... yucky. Not whole. Out there.

I still want to go deeper. I feel called to go deeper. That hasn't left me is so many months.

I know what part of the problem is.

But I don't want to address it.

It's hard and challenging and... uh, so. not. fun.

The problem with being a detail person and a big picture person is that I can see all the steps, and hurdles, the pain and hard work, it's going to take to get there. SABOTAGE!

I self sabotage waaaaaaaay too often.

My "hurdle" or distraction (aka Sin, cuz that's a fun word, right?) is the amount of time and focus I give to online stuff. It prevents me from addressing what's really bugging me, from really dealing with what's bugging me, from being present with my family, my life, my house, my faith. From being responsible for the things I'm responsible for. I ignore my children, my house, my God... because I'm facebooking or reading blogs.

I don't want to teach my children to live this way. I don't want them to be this way... focused on everything but what's really important. I don't want them to think that face-to-face interaction is just as easily gotten online or thru texting. It's not the same. It's soooo not the same. You can't replace people and faces and body language and tone and energy with click click click and get the same out of it.

Thing is, I like the interaction I have online, and for some, it's easier to deal with me that way because they don't hear all the background noise of 5 noisy monkeys milling about, asking a thousand questions, fighting or getting in trouble. They just get me, and as far as they know, it's undivided attention. But my children know that the attention they're getting, is divided, if they're getting it at all.

sigh.

SIGH.

And then there's fear. Where the hell is all this fear coming from?

I know that God will be on the other side of this, but there's a real fear of loneliness, and a certain fear that He won't be there. That just I will be there, alone and lonely. I'm here lonely, all day, most days. I don't need more lonely time. Alone time, yes. Lonely, no. So fear...

Today, I got just fed up enough with how out of sorts my life is. How overwhelming life can be (hello? anyone else have a 3 year old, nevermind his REgression in potty training, grrr), how out of balance I feel, how exasperated I get. So TODAY I quit making excuses, quit delaying the inevitable, quit trying to figure out what the rules should be. I'll make it up as I go. I don't know exactly what this'll look like, and I don't know how long I'll do it. 

But.. I'm gonna do it.

Feelings

I wrote about fear in the midst of my processing of it. I wasn't even done with the post and then later returned to finish, but I had finished my dealings, my feelings.

I recently told a friend that I don't have time to deal with those places I'd just rather not go. Its too messy and time consuming and I'm busy taking care of other people who don't understand my need for taking a break. So going there is hard, and I fight it. But after I wrote the bulk of the post, I talked to the hubs and told him how I was feeling. (Mostly because he wanted to know why I was crying, because seriously, talking about consolidating credit cards should not normally induce crying. It was a civil, unheated discussion.) And once it was out there, that stupid silly fear lost it's power, and met the light of day, was no longer a secret, even to me. It became so small and ridiculous, it floated away, and now I feel lighter. Strangely.

Later, as I was perusing blogs, Kelle Hampton @ Enjoying the Small Things had written this:

While I naturally search for a button to turn off feelings I assume aren’t good, I am realizing that feeling it all—even if it ain’t rainbows and unicorns—is important. Doubt and Anxiety might not be dressed as attractively as Confidence and Contentment, but they do bring insight. And when they are gone, the new Confidence and Contentment that brew are even better than before. Feelings need to be embraced—all of them. 

So to whatever that weird emotional episode was this afternoon, I'm glad to have experienced it, to have dealt with it, to have freed it. And I'll be happy to wait a while for the next one. :)

Fear

We talk. Of finances. Bills. Loans. Interest rates. 401k.

Fear wells up in me and spills silently down my face.

Why? Why the fear at this, I who am generally not fearful?

I read something about someones's husband who's life is one long story of his love for her. She feels it. She knows it, (despite how undeserved she feels), blah blah blah. And my fear spills more.

It is then that it dawns on me, why.

Because I fear he will leave.

Really? That's what I feel? I'm surprised by this.

But maybe that's been too close to the surface of reality. (Not just with him. Others too. People. But yes with him. And Him.) And marriage and life has ups and challenges and pulling and ripping and sometimes the wounds are a bit jagged, not nicely healed. And it's funny how little things can stick and it makes me wonder how badly I'm screwing up my kids, with all the little things.

Strange to me to feel fear. And fear at losing a future. Something that hasn't happened yet. Stupid.

And then I'm saddened by the fact that I don't feel that security with him. My one romantic notion that hasn't died yet that someone loves me so much it hurts them and fills them and overflows them. Because it's not "idealistic" or "romantic" at all. It really happens and why not me. sigh. pointless.

This is why I can't watch The Notebook.

Why I don't read this blog too often.

It just hits some raw place in me that I'd rather keep closed. Some, I'd rather not go there, place.

And he too has his own issues and fears and history, and he loves me and shows it and I know it and see it and it's not that, just that I have insecurities. And stress. Rationally I know it's dumb, but feelings aren't always rational and the irrational side of me sometimes sticks out, I guess. And something today just triggered some nerve. And so I felt fear.

Truth?

Do you really want to know the truth? the ugly, unhappy, messed-up, straight-up, not what you thought, might shake your reality, truth?

Yes, Elvis is still dead.

No, PeeWee Herman is no less weird.

I'm a truth teller. A tell-it-like-it-is person. Straight up, no bones, and I'm sorry if you don't like it kinda girl. When I get in an argument, I tell the whole truth, nothing but the truth and certainly not covered by grace truth. Nope. Not covered by grace at all. 

When I'm not mad, or hurt, well, I still tell the truth, but I try to meter it with grace. In this I find I am largely unsuccessful.

Do people not want to know the truth? How much truth is too much? Is there too much truth? God's truth? No. My truth? haha. well. Probably. But still I think, no.

A truth I have had a hard time learning is that many people do not want truth. I don't get that. It seems so unhealthy, all those misconceptions and lies and falsehoods to believe. Why not know the truth and deal with it? Life sucks, but at least you know it's real. 

I would so much rather someone tell me the truth. The If I see your kid outside naked one more time I'm calling CPS truth. That my daughter's friends dad said... instead of "someone around the campfire was talking and heard... No. I want to hear it, from the source. Don't talk behind my back, don't twist it so it doesn't make you look like you weren't gossiping. Just tell me the damned truth. 

But again, most people are afraid of telling the truth. It might hurt, they might hurt someone's feelings. *rolls eyes* Because eventually, not only does the truth come out, but the fact that you feel betrayed that people didn't tell you the truth, that you feel lied to... that hurts. Worse than the truth itself, I think.

I teach my kids to tell the truth. It's hard to teach that. You basically have to just do it. Never lie to your kids. Don't make promises you can't keep, don't say extraordinary things you don't really mean or could never follow through on, good or bad, and don't tell them un-truths just to make the truth softer. It gives your words less value. Words that don't have worth in parenting is bad. Because then even the good things you say they have a hard time believing.

Frankly, I just don't understand why anyone would lie or teach their children to lie. It makes no sense to me. It seems like a lot of work and it creates way too much drama. Because lies build, and lies are unstable. Who wants unstable children? Parenting is hard enough without that.

With adults, I think it's sometimes easier to tell the truth, because you don't have to worry as much about explaining deep concepts or telling details that they may not be able to handle. Not always the case, but generally. Like, it's hard to explain things like alcoholism, depression, divorce, death, sex. You know, light topics. With children, you need to tell only what they can handle, bit by bit, without a lot of details. If they ask questions, answer them. Do not print out diagrams and drawings of positions and anatomy from online to explain to an 8 year old about sex. Too much unnecessary infomation. But what about teenagers? They're stuck in that awkward phase of being able to understand infomation on a sort of intellectual level, but lack a total understanding of worldly influence and implications, consequences and reasoning, much less how to deal with it all in terms of how they should feel about it. Plus, teens are still in that idealistic phase, while being introduced to the harsh realities of life, and it can be a little much to take. 

So how do you know? How do you know how much truth to tell? How much is excess? How much is just for your benefit?

The truth will set you free? Or will it just make a mess messier?

When Seasons Change

Got five minutes? Let’s write. Let’s write in shades of real and brave and unscripted. Let’s just write and not worry if it’s just right or not.

That's what the Gypsy Mama is telling me. Ok, I'll bite.

The "rules":
1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word.

2. Link back here and invite others to join in.

3. Go buck wild with encouragement for the five minuter who linked up before you.

Here goes.

When Seasons Change...

There's a lot of anticipation. There's the excitement of making plans, what you're going to do that's new this year, this season. What to do, places to see, adventures to take. Sometimes, it means a lot of work, but it's good work. Work that comes from change, work that brings change. For me, right now, it's about clearing out winter coats and boots and making space in the entry way. Shedding the skin of winter. Getting dirt under fingernails as you poke seeds in soil in hopes that tiny sprouts appear and later, cukes, carrots, peas, morning glories, sweet peas. And before that the digging and clearing and turning of earth.

 

As a person who lives with hope, it's like a new beginning. A new day. And I love that his mercies are new every morning. Hallelu!

 

Time's up. 

 

For someone who's wordy, that's pretty short. Good thing I thought about it a bit before I plunked keys.

Guess I'm not quick and wordy. haha.

No time

So I started a new, well, not really a bible study. It's actually called peer counseling, but it's biblically based. The focus is on developing intimacy with God. Who doesn't want/need that, right? (Well, if you don't, you should. You don't know what you're missing, and that's totally the problem.) Problem is, it takes time. And quiet. Things I'm rather lacking in with 5 time-sucking noise makers (that I love with all my heart, but they make life and prayer a challenge).

Relationships take time. And intention. When I meet someone, a new mom-friend to-be for example, I can most certainly envision hanging out while our kids play, enjoying weekly get togethers, spending lots of time together so that we bond, our children (could) bond (if they wanted to), a relationship deepened, our respective homes became a second home to the other – comfortable, entwined lives. I would love to have that kind of friendship where we could laugh and have inside jokes, where I could share my whole heart and not be afraid, to share deeply who I am and the parts that aren’t so pretty but how I’ve changed and grown from that, and have that other person do the same. (There's nothing worse that laying it all out there and then the other person does not reciprocate. ugh)

Problem is, since I left college in the early nineties, it just ain't happenin'. People don’t have time for relationship building. And it's frustrating.

It's not fair to say that I don't have any friends. I do. And they're great friends who have awesome qualities and have enriched my life and blessed me greatly. Greatly. I feel honored and humbled, frequently.

But I kinda want more. And I feel bad for saying that, for wanting that. (And no, my hubby is not that person. He never wants to talk about feelings. He's such a man. Go figure.) But it’s intimacy that I want, and intimacy that I’m lacking.

I have gotten mad at God for seemingly abandoning me, not addressing my need for relationship and leaving me feeling cold and lonely. I (re)dated the wrong man as a sort of rebellious statement (and also because I was very lonely) when no friends were to be had and even my brothers didn't want to hang out with me. I have wondered what is wrong with me. I have wondered what is wrong with everyone else.

By some miracle, I actually met someone who was probably as desperate as I was and got married, had kids, etc. But I still don't have the relationship I'm needing, wanting. And as a mom, it's especially hard. Hard to have an uninterrupted conversation, hard to have time to get away, hard to work around school pick-up and nap schedules. It’s hard to find time around laundry and supper duties to carve out time to develop relationship. Even with our spouse. Maybe other people don’t want it as much as I seem to. Or are scared to step out in vulnerability. I dunno. But over the past 18 years, once or twice it has popped into my head that maybe God is keeping friend relationships like that from me as a way of sort of giving me the chance to seek that out with him.

I just can’t seem to get over the lack of his flesh, on that, though.

And this is a problem. His lack of flesh. I mean, sure, God can come on spa retreats with me (bwaahaha, me on a spa retreat. But since I’m dreaming and hoping, let’s just go with it) but it would probably draw odd looks and phone calls to the funny farm if I had a laughing fit or a really deep conversation with God, and people could only hear me.

But I still want, need, long for intimacy. And I’m figuring out that the hurt places in my heart could do with a little God intimacy. I feel like I’m in a season of God calling me, wanting more, as I want more, yearn for intimacy in Christ. But I just. Can’t. Seem. To. Get. there. And I hate that.

I don’t have time.

There’s no quiet (except after 9 pm, in which I’m exhausted and want to numb my mind on stupid things like Hulu and FB).

And even when I have that time carved out, in church, at bible study, I feel like I just can’t. I can’t because there’s not time for that. Children are asking questions about why mommy is crying, or can I have another cookie, or when are we going home. There’s not enough time to really lay all my guts out and at the feet of Jesus because we only have X amount of minutes and I need to not monopolize it all, and even then I don’t want to be a blubbering, red-faced, googley-eyed idiot when I pick up the kids at the babysitter’s (who will look at me like I’m some lunatic – which I am but let’s not give the freaks in this town any more fodder for that rumor). There’s just no time. Ands even if there is, I don’t seize the opportunity, because I take that opportunity to do something like blog or FB or do dishes in silence.

And what I really need to do is just say to HELL with all of it and just lay at the frickin feet of Jesus and bawl my ever lovin’ head off and who gives a crap about what time it is or who’s watching or what my kids are doing because maybe someone can just do me the favor of taking care of all that so I can have a moment or thirty. Cuz girlfriend’s got some crap she just needs to lay down.

A few weeks ago, a visiting pastor told a tale of how he went on a missions trip to Mexico and had great notions of having this daily quiet time. Instead, the church next door had nightly services that were rather spirited (and loud) until late into the night, and right about the time he fell asleep the roosters would start crowing. As it turned out, there was no quiet time to be had, that week. He explained that at the end of the week he was so absolutely exhausted. And boy could I relate to that. He was trying to explain about how we need to have that alone time with God, but that sometime there are interruptions. It was when he said that we can’t always control when the baby cries, that there is often not much silence for mothers of small children and we just can’t get there to that quiet time with God, that the tears started rolling down my face. (And to think that about 5 minutes prior to this I thought the guy was boring and had nothing of interest for me in this message. HA! HA!) I swear he was speaking right to me, reading my mail. But then he said this… God has grace for that.

What a relief. Like a blanket of mercy and grace that washed over me. Hope is not lost. I am not lost. Hallelujah!

But how long does this grace and mercy last? Days? Weeks? Years? How about decades? I know you can’t see the forest for the trees sometimes, and this too shall pass and all that crap, but seriously. Is there a cap on how much time I have to seek and find and build intimacy in Him?

I feel frantic. Desperate. And yet tired. Burnt out. Done. Spiritually speaking, but that also runs into the physical/emotional side of life, too.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." ~Matt 11:28-30

“but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” ~Isaiah 40:31

This seems so easy and so impossible. Lord, help me to get there. I need you. I feel like a failure, and yet I know I'm sabotaging myself. I want you. I want to know you. I want to have that kind of relationship where it's hard to tell where you end and I begin. Thank you for your grace. Please don't give up on me.

Sin

**Wow. Ok, just saw this post that I started and them FAILED to post. Ugh. Hate that. So Now I'm finishing it and posting it. Yay for me. Or whatever. Originally intended post date 3/29, actual post date 5/19. Oops.

So, sin.

It's gross.

That is all.

Thank you for reading.

JUST KIDDING!

 haha. You know I have more to say about it than that.

"Sin is

supplementing ourselves

with what we believe God is deficient in giving us." ~Brenda Gatlin (I think)

gasp. ugh.

Doesn't that make you recoil a little bit?

What do you "supplement" with, instead of going to God?

I have a long, long list, sadly. Food and Facebook being at the top. And it seems that I never actually end up making it to Him. sigh. I feel a lot of guilt and shame for this. I make excuses. I get frustrated at my very real challenges to this. I don't have time, I'm constantly interrupted. And I allow myself to be and stay that way. Blech. But thinking about it this way, that I don't believe God is sufficient. Man. That kinda makes me stop dead in my tracks.

I want Him.

So why do I chose everything else? Answer's not good, I'm afraid. I think, ultimately, in this way, I don't really trust him to be there. Yep. Pretty suck-o.

Takes all the fun out of spending hours on Facebook or multitasking FB and eating 12 cookies while on Facebook. Cuz now you know you should be spending it with him. And not eating 12 cookies.... guilt.

So, what are YOU supplementing yourself with? How (do you think) is God deficient for you?

New thing

I want to be new.

Desperately.

"You have to really want it; it's hard work. Are you desperate enough?"

Well, I feel pretty frickin' desperate. I'm tired of being ugly, of spewing ugly. I want change. Inside out.

God, please please change me. This is getting ugly. Please. I don't want ugly.

I. am. Desperate.

     ************************

I'm starting a new "bible study" which is more of a peer counseling thing. I could write a long post on all of it but I don't have time and really I want to focus on moving forward not looking backward so in a nutshell, here it is.

There's this thing that goes around the bloggy world about picking your word for the year. And while I'm not usually into such things, I feel God picking them for me. Last year, I felt him say "parenting." Which is not at all like other people's words, but that's what I got. I knew what He meant and I believe that there was definitely work done there, and just in telling me the word, it prepared me to be prepared. Sort of like a warning. Unfortunately, I got schooled in areas I didn't expect, but that's a story for another day. Anyway.

Since late fall I have felt an itching to do something different. I have been going to Women's Group (for lack of a catchier name) weekly for the last 2 1/2 years. And it's been good. It's had its purpose. But I began to feel called to do more, go deeper, do something different. I want that. I want more of God. I want to immerse myself more in relationship with him so that it IS more of a relationship. I want that intimacy that comes with knowing someone well. And frankly, I have felt like a bad Christian because it doesn't even occur to me to "go to God." He's not even on the top 10 of people I'd call to chat about such and such. How sad.

I feel him calling me, and so I searched out ways to get there, other bible studies. NOTHING looks like what I'm looking for. So I talk to my pastor. She mentions "this", and we're off. Onto finding wholeness and intimacy in God. I know it's going to be good. But if you've ever had anything waxed, you know that anticipation of them ripping off the strip? Or the band aid? Yeah, that "oh shit this is gonna hurt and maybe we can just leave it on there" kind of feeling. The I'm not sure if I really want to look at all my sins and please dear God in Heaven DO NOT  make me REVEAL my real ugly shameful ones. I'm SO NOT READY FOR THAT AND PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME DO IT. Yeah. Have that BIG TIME. So I haven't really been delving in. Out of fear. Which is strange for me.

But then, then I heard (on the audio session) "Are you desperate enough?"

Hm.

I'm sure not acting like it even though I feel like it.

So here goes.  To Desperation. Cheers! *ching ching*

Oh, and my new "word" is Inside Out. As in, I want God to change me, and He is gonna do it from the inside out.

Bring it on, Lord. (gently, please. or not. just do it. please. sigh)

I'm gonna need a lot of Kleenex for this.