For my entire adult life, since the age of 20, my identity was redefined by my caregiving of someone else...Toms wife...Tommy and Alex's Mama, Homeschooling Mom, Moms guardian and then Moms caregiver in my home. My life has been so full and character building teaching me to live life for others, NOT for me. I have had an exciting dream filled life so far, though, because of the grace and love of my husband and the cheerleading section of my boys and mom. Hopefully, though, they knew and still know my heart and sincere prayer at all times was to keep them first, aligning with scripture.
Now my roles are being redefined yet again and I'm feeling slightly squirmy about it. It's crazy how I can love and hate something at the same time. Tommy Jr, who God used to teach me to love someone more than myself, has his own sweet wife and three daughters...and on that date of marriage, Ash became his number one girl. Over time it appears we have a sweet balance and I love the rare times I get to hop back into the mama role for a brief minute or two when asked. But as much as I love and miss them terribly, I have a deep peace with our new relationship/friendship.
It's only been a year that my last boy left the nest and if I wanted to be honest, my heart hasn't quite caught up with my head. Part of me feels like it's not real and I'll wake up. I struggle with the finality of his absence because Alex has always been such a physical presence in my life, joining my friends and me in all our fun. But he's serving our country now and nursing our military men and women in Mississippi and I wouldn't think of ever wishing him home either. Neither of them, unless God called them back here.
Then there's my role as moms guardian and caregiver. It's is/was the absolute most challenging in pulling me out of my "me box". The last two years have been the hardest of my life but without a doubt, it was the right thing to do. Bringing anyone into your home is challenging but add to the equation a physically and handicapped mom...well...lets just be truthful...there were a lot of tears of angst. I felt terribly inept at all times, in spite of my nursing license. She needed every meal cooked for her, medicine given to her, laundry done, housekeeping, and caregiving....MD appointments, shopping, etc. My entire life revolved around caring for her at all times and it was SO HARD. Even so, if given a choice, there was nowhere else I'd want her to be. My greatest challenge, though, was guarding my marriage through it all. Scripturally, Tom was to be my number one but life and it's wrenches brought me to my knees a number of times on how to do that and not compromise Moms
safety. Of course the Lord provided loving caregivers and friends that allowed us to sneak away for a weekly date. Time alone was so treasured for us.
....Gone. It's over. All the energy in caring for them all has to find a new place. Thankfully, I have a precious man who loves the Lord and loves spending time with me. Although I would give anything for mom to be back home...to not still cry every single day because I'm still just so overwhelmingly sad that my mom is quadrapalegic, I refuse to let her accident destroy me emotionally, thus destroying my marriage. Every day, Tom and I purpose to do something to connect, to protect the relationship that started it all, over 27 years ago. Toms love and grace for me has certainly been the glue that has held us together the last six months..love and grace that he cultivates from his own relationship with the Lord. Moms accident changed me. I fell to mush, literally a puddle in the hands of the Lord. Every day is a challenge to "keep it together". On the harder days, with a soft voice and holding my hand, Tom will pray with me. On the less difficult days, he still holds my hand as we slowly, with trepidation, explore the area and find something, anything, to do together. Because before mom, and before the boys, and through it all was the military, dictating all the missed birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays, thus making this new season so treasured for us.
So now, I'm prayerfully trying to find my way, always holding onto the Lord with one hand and Tom with the other. I'm able to spend more time nursing which I love. And a new adventure has possibly opened up and I'll be trying out for a role in our local play for Little Women. Whether I'm chosen or not, just finding the courage to try out was a huge step for me. I've also taken up the craft of acrylic painting...slowly.
So in spite of missing the role of mom to my boys and missing them and missing the role of caregiver to my mom and Air Force wife to Tom...now I will take life one day at a time. Resting in the peace I did my best in every role and did it prayerfully and passionately...and will continue to prayerfully and passionately care for the first role in life...as Toms wife...and learn to create a new path and purpose for us, as a couple, in whatever direction the Lord calls.
Saturday, February 6, 2016
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Dyspnea
"difficult or labored breathing" is the official definition according to the dictionary.
Yes, that's suitable. There are times when I walk into my mom's living area or going through Christmas décor at the store and it grips me. It is no respecter of persons, nor time, nor place.
She's not coming home.
Ever.
At least not in this particular home. I'm from the mindset that where there is breath, there is hope but it would be a Lazarus type miracle. And even if we found transportation, this house is set up in such a way, we couldn't get a wheelchair into it at this point. In the small engineering cove of my brain, I don't see how.
I'm so thankful for my job that distracts me at times from her reality. Oh it's always there. My mom's new life. New diagnosis. New home. But there are sweet moments it's not all I think about. Instead I'm dealing with someone else's diagnosis at work, CHF, post-CABG, wound care, etc.
But this morning, I walked into her room and BAM. I feel suffocated because it's so painful. She loved the home the Lord gave her. I loved she was able to have her own area to live in. We were all so giddy with joy over His provision for her. Selfishly, it also helped us have some privacy. It was perfect.
And even now, as painful as her new world is and will probably always be in this lifetime, His provisions are perfect for her. She was accepted into an extended care facility that is staffed with RN's. The food is homemade and she gets to order off a menu. They ensure small things like brushing her hair before she leaves her room and snacks. I HAVE to find the good or I cannot breathe. It truly is a wonderful place for her needs. I'm sincerely thankful for that. And I continue to hear very good comments from past patients and their families. Thank you, Lord.
I selfishly wonder if it will always take my breath away. I don't see how it can't not. These are the moments I call out to God, sometimes landing on my knees, almost always in tears. Dealing with my own diagnosis of dyspnea. Dealing with my sweet mom's tears. I would rather have to do anything else than listen to her cry and try to explain to an already cognitively compromised 64 year old with dementia why. Because reality is I don't know why. When it becomes too painful, I feel like I'm in a spinning room with nowhere to get out. I don't mean to make this about me at all. I cannot fathom how it is for her. But writing has always been cathartic for me and the Lord laid it on my heart this a.m.
So God gave me today and today only. I'll push back the thoughts as I looked around that she will never sit in her recliner again. She will never sleep in that bed again. Nor wear her church clothes that she was so proud of, again. Today, I will focus on praying for her throughout the day like every day. Today, I have laid out the wall décor she asked for. Today, I will concentrate on breathing.
Yes, that's suitable. There are times when I walk into my mom's living area or going through Christmas décor at the store and it grips me. It is no respecter of persons, nor time, nor place.
She's not coming home.
Ever.
At least not in this particular home. I'm from the mindset that where there is breath, there is hope but it would be a Lazarus type miracle. And even if we found transportation, this house is set up in such a way, we couldn't get a wheelchair into it at this point. In the small engineering cove of my brain, I don't see how.
I'm so thankful for my job that distracts me at times from her reality. Oh it's always there. My mom's new life. New diagnosis. New home. But there are sweet moments it's not all I think about. Instead I'm dealing with someone else's diagnosis at work, CHF, post-CABG, wound care, etc.
But this morning, I walked into her room and BAM. I feel suffocated because it's so painful. She loved the home the Lord gave her. I loved she was able to have her own area to live in. We were all so giddy with joy over His provision for her. Selfishly, it also helped us have some privacy. It was perfect.
And even now, as painful as her new world is and will probably always be in this lifetime, His provisions are perfect for her. She was accepted into an extended care facility that is staffed with RN's. The food is homemade and she gets to order off a menu. They ensure small things like brushing her hair before she leaves her room and snacks. I HAVE to find the good or I cannot breathe. It truly is a wonderful place for her needs. I'm sincerely thankful for that. And I continue to hear very good comments from past patients and their families. Thank you, Lord.
I selfishly wonder if it will always take my breath away. I don't see how it can't not. These are the moments I call out to God, sometimes landing on my knees, almost always in tears. Dealing with my own diagnosis of dyspnea. Dealing with my sweet mom's tears. I would rather have to do anything else than listen to her cry and try to explain to an already cognitively compromised 64 year old with dementia why. Because reality is I don't know why. When it becomes too painful, I feel like I'm in a spinning room with nowhere to get out. I don't mean to make this about me at all. I cannot fathom how it is for her. But writing has always been cathartic for me and the Lord laid it on my heart this a.m.
So God gave me today and today only. I'll push back the thoughts as I looked around that she will never sit in her recliner again. She will never sleep in that bed again. Nor wear her church clothes that she was so proud of, again. Today, I will focus on praying for her throughout the day like every day. Today, I have laid out the wall décor she asked for. Today, I will concentrate on breathing.
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Two weeks of wonderful
The mother daughter relationship has always been an enigma to me. I've watched many of them over the years with such a yearning because they truly liked one another and the daughters referred to their moms as their best friends. Huh? Obviously in our natural state, it's a challenging duo or the Lord wouldn't address it in His Word. So if you struggle in yours, God knows and has given us a plan to follow.
I struggled way more than I wanted to. And sadly and ashamedly, if you were in my life long, you heard about it. Like all parents, my mom wasn't perfect. And like most of us, she did the best she could with the tools her mom gave to her. And I recently was shown what a challenge I was as a daughter. But the struggle was so hard. I wanted to be those girls who looked to their mom as friends. As soon as I accepted the Lord as my Savior, I knew my heart was not where it should be. Before her stroke, we often just endured one another. Then when my dad died and my mom needed a guardian, with shoulders slumped over and many tears, I did what was right at the encouragement of my husband. I brought her to Oklahoma to care for her. But my heart remained wicked and I did the bare minimum for my mom. Don't misunderstand. I would've nor could've purposely harmed her but every single thing I did to care for her was so hard. And I resented much of it because I kept looking back at her faults and my childhood. I cannot count the endless hours of tearful begging that I took before the Lord to help me love my mom in such a deep selfless way. I continued to observe various mother daughters with envy because I just didn't feel it for her. And I was so ashamed inside. I hated it when people called me a wonderful daughter because I was so far from that truth.
Then it came time to move to Indiana and the Lord pushed me outside of my me-box even more and mom came to live with us. I've given Tom and me some slack since doing home health nursing because a roommate is tough. Living with a parent is tougher. But caring for a mentally and physically handicapped mom whose life yours revolves around takes your breath away and it's hard! It daily brings you to your knees. No matter what, we had to stop three times a day to ensure she was fed. Twice a day up to six times a day, she needed meds. She needed laundry done. She needed her rooms and bathroom cleaned. She needed groceries. She needed a healthy diet. She couldn't be left alone for very long. She needed daily wound care. This situation just fueled my already wicked selfish heart. I felt like I just continued to endure her presence. I cried many many tears of frustration because I did not want this to be my life. I wanted time alone with my husband. I wanted to travel in my empty nest years.
In the meantime, I'm filling my hours on the road with podcasts from some fantastic Bible believing men. They taught about practical relationships and what God has to say. They taught me that my feelings were not sinful. They also taught me to strive to do right. But more importantly be right in every arena of my being.
I spent many months resenting most things I had to do for mom. But I kept praying, recognizing my selfishness. Let's throw in her idiosyncrasies that accompany a stroke patient with dementia. It was just so hard and my heart remained wicked. But I kept yearning and praying to love her right and love her well. I wanted to have the same heart for her that I had for my patients. I continually sought Gods grace in this area of impossible.
Then slowly one day when she peeked around the corner to let me know she's awake and ready for me to do her foot and her smile lit up my heart. It was such a profound change I noted it right away. Slowly I found myself doing for her because I wanted her to feel loved. Slowly I no longer minded taking her places with me. I continued to pray and recognized how much my sinful flesh needed my mom because her presence was teaching me to do right and live for someone other than me. Then one day, two weeks before her accident, I felt nothing selfish. I loved her. I was ok with caring for her. The resentment was gone. It was such a wonderful wonderful gift I had been praying for 20 years. I remember the moment so vividly praising God for this victory.
For two beautiful weeks it was well with my soul. For two weeks I loved her in a way I never dreamt possible. For two weeks, her presence brought me happiness and smiles. I couldn't and still can't praise God enough.
Then in one swift motion our lives were changed. My mom was a quadrapalegic. The angst and grief that ensued that moment cannot be described. I would kneel before God and just cry. No words. Tears. Sobs. Begging. And now my heart was right but it was broken. The first night I allowed myself to come home was heart wrenching. I had everything I ever wanted for two years and I couldn't stop crying. And a month later I think I still hear her getting up then I remember all over again. I still cry. But I'm not giving up on bringing her home. I cheer her on and pray with her. I feed her meals and brush her teeth and it's truly a privilege. I can't wait until our next visit. She calls me her baby girl and I'm ok with that.
I spent many months resenting most things I had to do for mom. But I kept praying, recognizing my selfishness. Let's throw in her idiosyncrasies that accompany a stroke patient with dementia. It was just so hard and my heart remained wicked. But I kept yearning and praying to love her right and love her well. I wanted to have the same heart for her that I had for my patients. I continually sought Gods grace in this area of impossible.
Then slowly one day when she peeked around the corner to let me know she's awake and ready for me to do her foot and her smile lit up my heart. It was such a profound change I noted it right away. Slowly I found myself doing for her because I wanted her to feel loved. Slowly I no longer minded taking her places with me. I continued to pray and recognized how much my sinful flesh needed my mom because her presence was teaching me to do right and live for someone other than me. Then one day, two weeks before her accident, I felt nothing selfish. I loved her. I was ok with caring for her. The resentment was gone. It was such a wonderful wonderful gift I had been praying for 20 years. I remember the moment so vividly praising God for this victory.
For two beautiful weeks it was well with my soul. For two weeks I loved her in a way I never dreamt possible. For two weeks, her presence brought me happiness and smiles. I couldn't and still can't praise God enough.
Then in one swift motion our lives were changed. My mom was a quadrapalegic. The angst and grief that ensued that moment cannot be described. I would kneel before God and just cry. No words. Tears. Sobs. Begging. And now my heart was right but it was broken. The first night I allowed myself to come home was heart wrenching. I had everything I ever wanted for two years and I couldn't stop crying. And a month later I think I still hear her getting up then I remember all over again. I still cry. But I'm not giving up on bringing her home. I cheer her on and pray with her. I feed her meals and brush her teeth and it's truly a privilege. I can't wait until our next visit. She calls me her baby girl and I'm ok with that.
Monday, May 25, 2015
A New Jesus
Relax. Gods Word is still the same yesterday, today, and forever. And so is He. But my journey changes continually. Keep reading, even through the difficult parts.
Since the day I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior, I dove in head first, never looking back. My life was in such shambles, sometimes I couldn't breathe. Literally.
I was your typical starry eyed newlywed who was clueless. Clue-less. I'm still amazed after all these years that we survived. We were so young. So stupid. So selfish. And walked nowhere near God. Tom, my husband, was my god. I looked to him for everything. E v e r y t h i n g. Poor guy. So not only did I have him on a pedestal, imagine what it felt like when everything I worshipped walked away.
I had a three year old and was pregnant. And now I was alone. I was so incredibly scared that for a fleeting second, I considered abortion. Me. Even when I wasn't a Christian, I treasured life. But that fear takes over every cell. Especially when your god walks away.
Thankfully, I didn't have it in me to abort. I just knew I had to suck it up and raise these two kids the best I knew how. I was fierce. I knew I had one chance to do it right. At least I had that.
Debbie. I'll never ever forget her smile. Her cheerfulness. Her words..."I'm praying for you." She lived across the street and she was trying to reach out. I scoffed. To her face! My words..."at least one of us is because I give up."
Her words, "come to church with me!" My words finally, "I'll come so you'll leave me alone!"
And across base my god was living life doing whatever he wanted. With whomever he wanted.
Church. I pictured fancy pews and a piped in organ. I pictured people sitting up straight with hands folded neatly in their laps. Militant style. Eyes ahead. Don't smile!
But what I found was nothing like that. Folded chairs. Paneled walls. A makeshift platform. Yet for the first time in years, I could breathe. Friendship. Laughter. Music. And the most real Jesus you can imagine. I cried every service for months. I was so new to all this but I was sincere. I was deeply madly in love with this Man Who let me know He was crazy about me. Flaws and all. I was able to set my earthly god, my husband, free. My focus shifted. I stopped begging my god to stay and started begging God to give me strength. And He did.
Thankfully our marriage was reconciled. But his job as my god....my source of happiness...was gone. I was still in love with this Man, Jesus. And during this time I was taught so so much on forgiveness and looking to people's hearts when they hurt you. The foundation was laid that exists today.
Onward we went to our next duty station. I was still enamoured but life changed. Jesus changed. I learned there are rules to live by in the Christian life and if you don't follow them, you cannot be right with God. If you don't follow them, you are not included in activities because you don't meet standards. It was a very confusing time in my relationship with the Love of my life. It just didn't make sense to me but I followed the rules anyway because I wanted to fit in and fitting in made me feel better about my standing before Jesus. I did everything in my humanity to be the perfect believer. The right clothes, the right music, the right movies, the right activities. And by golly, you would get the crack down if you lived in my house and the rules weren't followed. My poor family. But no reading of Gods Word. I had learned the power in prayer but without Gods Word, nothing in your mind changes. I was a great rule follower, though!
Then to our final duty station. . We ended up learning so much about grace here. How to love people. To truly love them where they are and walking alongside them as they grow in God. Loving them when they don't follow all the rules. Teaching them truth but never ever walking away from them. There lies more foundation for who I am today. In my heart,this is reflective of Who Jesus is.
Some would ignorantly say we were good people. We did everything right and we did it sincerely. We never felt perfect but we felt empowered by our own morality. We started to equate morality with relationship. The gooder we were, the more He loved us. I was still so in love with this Man, Jesus. At this point, I'm reading my Bible every day, I'm praying every day, I attend church when the doors are open, I tell others about Jesus, and I'm serving in many ministries.
Then Bam! My worst nightmare happens. Literally. I'm brought to my knees, literally. If you can imagine a room spinning around you in slow motion and the walls crumbling down, that was that
moment. It hurt to breathe. Where was my Jesus now? At this point, I knew He was good. I knew He was sovereign. I knew He was a Promisekeeper and a Mountain mover. Someone in the church hurt my family in what my mind perceived in the worst possible way.
Now what? I was broken. My family struggled to just attend church. But the Cross. It was the Light at the end of the tunnel called life. Counseling. Forgiveness. Gods Word. Renewal. And in spite of this terrible sin, He loved me. He loved the person who hurt us. Not the sin. Never our sin. But Hes still crazy about each of us. Even when we beg for strength to remain steadfast. Even when staying put feels impossible. It was that moment that Jesus became different. He held me in His hands, every broken piece, and loved me. He showed me through this that every person is broken. In spite of our morality. In spite of our rules. In spite of looking the part, the ties, suits, etc. In spite doing all the right stuff, life stinks. He showed me true love yet again. And He gave me new eyes.
New eyes to see the brokenness of humanity. No matter how much you smile and serve and do all the right stuff...I know you are broken as well. Jesus tore every wall down. No more hypocrisy. Just repentence. No more rules but doing the best I can in a sin sick culture that scoffs at this Great Love. I'm no longer fooled and Jesus never was.
My heart now is to just be real. I see His great love for the rapist, the pedophile, the homosexual, the cheater, the hooker, the murderer, on and on. It's called Grace. Nobody deserves it. Nobody earns it. And I'm on the same playing field as them all.
Since the day I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior, I dove in head first, never looking back. My life was in such shambles, sometimes I couldn't breathe. Literally.
I was your typical starry eyed newlywed who was clueless. Clue-less. I'm still amazed after all these years that we survived. We were so young. So stupid. So selfish. And walked nowhere near God. Tom, my husband, was my god. I looked to him for everything. E v e r y t h i n g. Poor guy. So not only did I have him on a pedestal, imagine what it felt like when everything I worshipped walked away.
I had a three year old and was pregnant. And now I was alone. I was so incredibly scared that for a fleeting second, I considered abortion. Me. Even when I wasn't a Christian, I treasured life. But that fear takes over every cell. Especially when your god walks away.
Thankfully, I didn't have it in me to abort. I just knew I had to suck it up and raise these two kids the best I knew how. I was fierce. I knew I had one chance to do it right. At least I had that.
Debbie. I'll never ever forget her smile. Her cheerfulness. Her words..."I'm praying for you." She lived across the street and she was trying to reach out. I scoffed. To her face! My words..."at least one of us is because I give up."
Her words, "come to church with me!" My words finally, "I'll come so you'll leave me alone!"
And across base my god was living life doing whatever he wanted. With whomever he wanted.
Church. I pictured fancy pews and a piped in organ. I pictured people sitting up straight with hands folded neatly in their laps. Militant style. Eyes ahead. Don't smile!
But what I found was nothing like that. Folded chairs. Paneled walls. A makeshift platform. Yet for the first time in years, I could breathe. Friendship. Laughter. Music. And the most real Jesus you can imagine. I cried every service for months. I was so new to all this but I was sincere. I was deeply madly in love with this Man Who let me know He was crazy about me. Flaws and all. I was able to set my earthly god, my husband, free. My focus shifted. I stopped begging my god to stay and started begging God to give me strength. And He did.
Thankfully our marriage was reconciled. But his job as my god....my source of happiness...was gone. I was still in love with this Man, Jesus. And during this time I was taught so so much on forgiveness and looking to people's hearts when they hurt you. The foundation was laid that exists today.
Onward we went to our next duty station. I was still enamoured but life changed. Jesus changed. I learned there are rules to live by in the Christian life and if you don't follow them, you cannot be right with God. If you don't follow them, you are not included in activities because you don't meet standards. It was a very confusing time in my relationship with the Love of my life. It just didn't make sense to me but I followed the rules anyway because I wanted to fit in and fitting in made me feel better about my standing before Jesus. I did everything in my humanity to be the perfect believer. The right clothes, the right music, the right movies, the right activities. And by golly, you would get the crack down if you lived in my house and the rules weren't followed. My poor family. But no reading of Gods Word. I had learned the power in prayer but without Gods Word, nothing in your mind changes. I was a great rule follower, though!
Then to our final duty station. . We ended up learning so much about grace here. How to love people. To truly love them where they are and walking alongside them as they grow in God. Loving them when they don't follow all the rules. Teaching them truth but never ever walking away from them. There lies more foundation for who I am today. In my heart,this is reflective of Who Jesus is.
Some would ignorantly say we were good people. We did everything right and we did it sincerely. We never felt perfect but we felt empowered by our own morality. We started to equate morality with relationship. The gooder we were, the more He loved us. I was still so in love with this Man, Jesus. At this point, I'm reading my Bible every day, I'm praying every day, I attend church when the doors are open, I tell others about Jesus, and I'm serving in many ministries.
Then Bam! My worst nightmare happens. Literally. I'm brought to my knees, literally. If you can imagine a room spinning around you in slow motion and the walls crumbling down, that was that
moment. It hurt to breathe. Where was my Jesus now? At this point, I knew He was good. I knew He was sovereign. I knew He was a Promisekeeper and a Mountain mover. Someone in the church hurt my family in what my mind perceived in the worst possible way.
Now what? I was broken. My family struggled to just attend church. But the Cross. It was the Light at the end of the tunnel called life. Counseling. Forgiveness. Gods Word. Renewal. And in spite of this terrible sin, He loved me. He loved the person who hurt us. Not the sin. Never our sin. But Hes still crazy about each of us. Even when we beg for strength to remain steadfast. Even when staying put feels impossible. It was that moment that Jesus became different. He held me in His hands, every broken piece, and loved me. He showed me through this that every person is broken. In spite of our morality. In spite of our rules. In spite of looking the part, the ties, suits, etc. In spite doing all the right stuff, life stinks. He showed me true love yet again. And He gave me new eyes.
New eyes to see the brokenness of humanity. No matter how much you smile and serve and do all the right stuff...I know you are broken as well. Jesus tore every wall down. No more hypocrisy. Just repentence. No more rules but doing the best I can in a sin sick culture that scoffs at this Great Love. I'm no longer fooled and Jesus never was.
My heart now is to just be real. I see His great love for the rapist, the pedophile, the homosexual, the cheater, the hooker, the murderer, on and on. It's called Grace. Nobody deserves it. Nobody earns it. And I'm on the same playing field as them all.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Glorious Unfoldng
I've spent so much of my time trying to convince myself and others that I'm good...I've got it altogether because somehow I equated failure to making Jesus look bad. Except one Truth. I don't define Who Jesus is one bit. It's Jesus Who defines me.
It's only recently that I've been set free from the myriad of emotions I would feel day to day. I understand through various teachings of Gods Word that my emotions are not sinful. As a matter of fact, God created us as emotional beings. I've spent much time in prayer asking forgiveness for feeling. Now I realize I was apologizing for something I had no control over.
However, my reaction is what has the potential to be sinful. Be angry and sin not. Guard your heart with all diligence because out of it are the issues of life. Those are Bible verses. It even says they that sow in tears shall reap in joy. It's ok to cry!
So I was crying today. I do that more lately because it's ok. God doesn't love me less. And I'm a lot less stressed because tears release endorphins...the feel good hormone in our body. And it was the almost ugly cry. The sobbing cry where you're thankful nobody can hear you and that your windows are tinted.
I'm ok, by the way. I'm struggling with a few things...how my life is redefining my purpose and role. And I don't always like it. Today it hurt as I started thinking of my grown children and imagining them in their uniforms. One a police officer whose life is on the line daily. I miss his voice and his laugh. Then his brother, such a proud new airman in our Air Force. I miss his friendship. They both have a crazy grace for me. But life. One is in Texas and one is in Oklahoma. And they're not coming home to live. That reality often takes my breath away, almost literally. I try so hard not to even go there but today it happened so fast and before you know it, I'm pulling into Starbucks a snotty mess.
Then God. He whispers to me in such a profound way. His voice and presence is so much more clear when we are hurting and needy. He gave me a song. The tears turned to hope and rejoicing. I had a praise moment as true hope unfolded in my thoughts.
He's not done with me. I was never that mom who couldn't wait for her kids to leave. I prayed for them a lot and trusted them to God. And now they truly reside in His hands, my mothering role has
come to an end. They still include me in their lives, thankfully. But I'm done raising them.
come to an end. They still include me in their lives, thankfully. But I'm done raising them.
So now what? In steps faith because I don't know. I'm feeling lost. And undefined.
Then comes the perfect song. Glorious Unfolding by SCC. "Cause I know this is not like anything you thought, your life was going to be.......there's so much more of this story to unfold." BAM! Truth! He's not done with me yet! "So hold onto every promise God has made to us....and watch this glorious unfolding."
He has a plan! That's all I needed for my tears to turn to joy.
He has a plan! That's all I needed for my tears to turn to joy.
Monday, May 11, 2015
Unholy boldness
It seems there is a trend amongst Christians and I've seen many broken hearts over it. I would like to believe they are well meaning while spewing unthoughtful opinions towards fellow believers. But often these opinions are so unscriptural in five different ways, I see nothing good connected to them. I've wiped the tears of many young new Christians confused by what they perceive as hate. Thankfully I've seen many seasoned believers be the target but grace. But grace allows forgiveness. It doesn't take away our human ability to feel hurt and confused. Sad to say, my reality is it makes me angry. This unholy boldness does not represent my Jesus well at all. And whether we like it or not, we are often the only Jesus some people see.
So then what? May I suggest praying and knowing Gods Word? Ephesians 4:29 taught me years ago, how powerful our words are to the ears of others. It tells us to minister grace unto the hearer. Nowhere does it say to tell em like it is. Nowhere does it give us permission to condemn others. Even Jesus, Creator of the Universe, came not to condemn but to save the world. I'm not referring to intimate conversations that are used to cultivate relationships, but off the cuff remarks to others one may not even know. Bold opinions posted in social media. Over and over, more and more I'm witnessing this.
Pray. Ask the Lord if He's ok with you sharing what you are about to say. I cannot tell you how many times I've deleted something or not shared it because I didn't have peace. It didn't line up with ministering grace.
Try a new practice. And it's not easy but the outcome is so fun, it becomes addictive. Encourage. Compliment. Find one thing good and express it. There are times it will be against every bone in you, but remember ministering grace.
A new saved woman comes to church in pants and you think ladies should only wear skirts ever, let alone to church. Tell her how pretty the color of her top is or how you love her matching earrings. Let God, through our precious Holy Spirit, teach and convict. (I'm just thrilled for people to come. Wear pajamas for all I care.)
In my early years of attending church, a young man I had been praying for got saved. I was so thrilled! He wore earrings and sported many tattoos. He came to church the next Sunday but I witnessed something horrific that forever shaped me. The pastor went up to this excited new baby in Christ and asked, " what's this?", pointing to his earring. That new babe never returned. Ever. His face fell and hurt was written everywhere.
I have story after story. I have lived story after story. So I love grace. There are never regrets in slathering grace all over the place. The addiction? Their smile. The sparkle in their eye or spring in their step. The bridge you just built to a new relationship and the possibility to mentor. The beauty in this new creature. So instead of unholy boldness, try Christ-like grace. Now that's scriptural!
So then what? May I suggest praying and knowing Gods Word? Ephesians 4:29 taught me years ago, how powerful our words are to the ears of others. It tells us to minister grace unto the hearer. Nowhere does it say to tell em like it is. Nowhere does it give us permission to condemn others. Even Jesus, Creator of the Universe, came not to condemn but to save the world. I'm not referring to intimate conversations that are used to cultivate relationships, but off the cuff remarks to others one may not even know. Bold opinions posted in social media. Over and over, more and more I'm witnessing this.
Pray. Ask the Lord if He's ok with you sharing what you are about to say. I cannot tell you how many times I've deleted something or not shared it because I didn't have peace. It didn't line up with ministering grace.
Try a new practice. And it's not easy but the outcome is so fun, it becomes addictive. Encourage. Compliment. Find one thing good and express it. There are times it will be against every bone in you, but remember ministering grace.
A new saved woman comes to church in pants and you think ladies should only wear skirts ever, let alone to church. Tell her how pretty the color of her top is or how you love her matching earrings. Let God, through our precious Holy Spirit, teach and convict. (I'm just thrilled for people to come. Wear pajamas for all I care.)
In my early years of attending church, a young man I had been praying for got saved. I was so thrilled! He wore earrings and sported many tattoos. He came to church the next Sunday but I witnessed something horrific that forever shaped me. The pastor went up to this excited new baby in Christ and asked, " what's this?", pointing to his earring. That new babe never returned. Ever. His face fell and hurt was written everywhere.
I have story after story. I have lived story after story. So I love grace. There are never regrets in slathering grace all over the place. The addiction? Their smile. The sparkle in their eye or spring in their step. The bridge you just built to a new relationship and the possibility to mentor. The beauty in this new creature. So instead of unholy boldness, try Christ-like grace. Now that's scriptural!
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Nothing in Moderation
One of my so obvious flaws is my inability to be mediocre. Ive seen it since I was in 6th grade and all I cared about in 4H was being President. Captain of my Jr High Volleyball team. I saw it in high school. I went straight for Drum Major and did that in two different schools. Newspaper Editor. In the Air Force, I always had to be top of everything starting in basic training. Nursing school was no different. Top of my LPN class and graduating RN school with honors. Serving in church became my everything since I joined my first one in 1994. Relationships. Every single one had to be perfect or I fell into a dark place over it.
It refers to sin as well. I cannot have just one drink. I've never been able to have one alcoholic drink. I have to drink until I pass out. I wasn't even a believer when I saw a dark path that held nothing good for my future so I walked away. Gambling. Just one more time. I swear I'm missing a switch in my brain. Social Media. I had and still have very good godly intentions. But literally hours later, after I've connected with this person or that person, I take a breath and that time is gone.
See, there's an in between...an acceptable mediocrity, where I've missed out on some good stuff. In 4H, I could've learned so much but I didn't do one project. In nursing school especially, there are many hours I can never retrieve that I didn't spend with my family, who are now grown. I literally lived and breathed study material. For what? A certificate? A special colored sash? It doesn't define my nursing today. My photography. I shoved a camera in many faces so nothing was missed. But I was so busy capturing each memory, I didn't absorb any of my own.
This drive in my brain has also affected so many relationships and I see that it's trickled down to my boys who are just like me. Driven. Goal oriented. No matter what. My poor husband. I'm only now, after 26 years, allowing him to just be. Let him be who God designed him to be, not Wendy. Praying for him sincerely, not in a tattle tale spirit.
But souls. Lives. Discipleship. Grace.
So I'm stepping back. I need to write. God put that in me many years ago. And I need to encourage others in Him. This blog is a perfect compromise for now.
I've had many suggest I limit my FB time. I don't know how. God knows my heart for the relationships on there so my prayer is while I step away, He will continue to mold me. That He will renew my mind to slow down and do all the in between. That one day I can check in once in awhile and it will be enough. For now, my prayer is Romans 12:2. That I become transformed by the renewing of my mind. God is certainly able and I am willing.
It refers to sin as well. I cannot have just one drink. I've never been able to have one alcoholic drink. I have to drink until I pass out. I wasn't even a believer when I saw a dark path that held nothing good for my future so I walked away. Gambling. Just one more time. I swear I'm missing a switch in my brain. Social Media. I had and still have very good godly intentions. But literally hours later, after I've connected with this person or that person, I take a breath and that time is gone.
See, there's an in between...an acceptable mediocrity, where I've missed out on some good stuff. In 4H, I could've learned so much but I didn't do one project. In nursing school especially, there are many hours I can never retrieve that I didn't spend with my family, who are now grown. I literally lived and breathed study material. For what? A certificate? A special colored sash? It doesn't define my nursing today. My photography. I shoved a camera in many faces so nothing was missed. But I was so busy capturing each memory, I didn't absorb any of my own.
This drive in my brain has also affected so many relationships and I see that it's trickled down to my boys who are just like me. Driven. Goal oriented. No matter what. My poor husband. I'm only now, after 26 years, allowing him to just be. Let him be who God designed him to be, not Wendy. Praying for him sincerely, not in a tattle tale spirit.
But souls. Lives. Discipleship. Grace.
So I'm stepping back. I need to write. God put that in me many years ago. And I need to encourage others in Him. This blog is a perfect compromise for now.
I've had many suggest I limit my FB time. I don't know how. God knows my heart for the relationships on there so my prayer is while I step away, He will continue to mold me. That He will renew my mind to slow down and do all the in between. That one day I can check in once in awhile and it will be enough. For now, my prayer is Romans 12:2. That I become transformed by the renewing of my mind. God is certainly able and I am willing.
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