Easter Dress

With Easter quickly approaching, I am quickly beginning a battle inside myself. 

For people who aren't regular church attendees, Easter is about hunting eggs, bunnies, pretty dresses, the beginning of Spring and of course, chocolate.

For the Christian, Good Friday brings the somber remembrance of the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross.  Easter Sunday is a celebration of the resurrection of Jesus.  Many Christians will take part in one or more services, as well as the same things other people do.  Even Christians will incorporate hunting eggs, bunnies, chocolate and pretty dresses.

I know, it is a lot of wonderful things to celebrate all at one time. But it is a little harder for me to set aside the past on Easter to only celebrate the good things.

During an event at church a couple years ago and here on this blog, I shared the following from my 4th grade year:

The last time I went to that church was Easter Sunday. The lady who picked me up gave me a purple dress and white shoes. I got to change before church started. I sat and listened to a story about Jesus. I didn’t know who that was, but I felt good in my pretty new dress. For one of the only times I can remember, I felt like somebody cared about me. Church was merely a background thought that day. The beauty of the day ended the minute I walked back in the door of my house. In his anger, my dad punished me for disobeying him. He destroyed the dress and threw the shoes away. My fear of being punished again would swallow any desire I had to go back to church.

Unfortunately, that was only part of the truth.

My dad had anger towards the church, God and especially about me going to church that far surpassed just a simple punishment.

When I returned home from church in my new dress that day, I saw the anger in his eyes as he dragged me to the garage.  He tore off his belt, demanding I grab my ankles and not let go, while beating my back and legs. 

Because he had beaten me several times for going to church, he likely knew that a beating would do little to dissuade me from ever going again. 

With tears covering my eyes, I couldn't see but only sense that his anger was only growing. 

My pretty purple dress had a big white bow in back to match the white shoes.  I think that was the first time I ever had matching clothes and shoes or a big fluffy bow...ever!  My hair was long and straight with a hint of curl.  To say I felt good was probably an understatement.  It was one of the few times I ever felt like a little girl.

Being a child, I should have been naive to what danger was lurking for me as my dad's anger grew.  Being a child in my home, the only unknown was how bad it would get before he would stop.

I don't remember if it was his evil laugh or the warmth on my back, but I soon learned when he would stop.

He had lit on fire the bottom of my fluffy bow.  Within seconds, he left the garage and I was left to get myself out of a burning dress. 

I am sure it was seconds to few minutes that I had to get the dress off before it was fully on fire laying on the garage floor. 

Some of my hair had burned and smelled awful.  My feet were covered in blisters where the shoes had melted onto my feet.  When I looked in the mirror, it was hard to tell if my lower back was red from the beating or being burnt.  In the days following, my lower back and legs would be covered in blisters.

I wasn't quite 10 years-old and I was having to hide the aftermath of being set on fire for going to church.  I was a 9 year-old who had been set on fire for going to church.  I was set on fire for going to church.  Yes, I have to repeat it just to remind myself that it happened to me and it's not just a story I'm telling that I'm unattached to.

One of the awful parts of having PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) is reliving things as if they were currently happening (also known as a flashback). 

There's a lot about this time of year and with Easter approaching that are causing flashbacks of the Easter dress.  It's not anything I can control and it's not the worst of the worst, so I've spent very little time being able to talk through it in counseling. 

As a Christian, I want to be able to celebrate the sacrifice God made with Jesus' death and resurrection.  But, it's hard.  I want to be in church during this time of year so I can hear and be reminded of how Jesus died for me too.  But, it's hard. 

When the flashback of that Easter dress starts, I can only hear my own screams and feel my own anxiety as if my dress were being set on fire right then and right there...all over again. 

That battle between present and past is strong in me right now as I try my best to remember that God is still actively pulling me further away from the past.

I would say I long for Easter to pass, but that will only clear the path for flashbacks of birthdays to be begin. 

As I said....it's hard!

My Legacy

Last week, I was sitting at a concert when I heard Matthew West talk about family dysfunction prior to singing his song "Family Tree."  The song talks about how what your family has done and done to you does not have to be your legacy.

I have heard him sing this song live a couple times and listened to it many times.  But never had it reduced me to tears the way it did that night.

There were a couple things that punched me in the gut...both good and bad.

The song starts with:

You didn't ask for this
Nobody ever would
Caught in the middle of this dysfunction
It's your sad reality
It's your messed up family tree
And all your left with all these questions

With all that I have been and continue to go through, the start of this song epitomizes my life.  A lot of what you see on my blog is the tough times when I question.  I don't just question, but I get angry.  That's right, I get angry with God.  I blame and continuously wrestle through the past, present and future with God.  I'm sure you even see I try to run away from or destroy anything good in my life.  Rarely do I embrace what is good during those times and remember that all that's good is wrapped tightly in my heart.

Understanding that without knowing my full story, you won't be able to grasp why my reality is that I have more bad days than good.  And...the reason falls directly on the shoulders of the dysfunction of my family.  A sad reality that has left me with a long road still to overcome.

The next part of the song:

No, this is not your legacy
This is not your destiny
Yesterday does not define you
No, this is not your legacy
This is not your meant to be
I can break the chains that bind you

This is where I found the good.  In fact, the only good thing that really matters. 

I once read a quote that said something like this:  I couldn't have chosen God unless he had first chosen me.

When I think about my family and the dysfunction which still exists, I have no choice but to believe that God chose me.  God chose to pluck me away from what surely would have been a longer life of evil and dysfunction.  Not that it is all gone, but it is much improved.

To date, God hasn't chosen to pull any of the other family members away from the swirling pool of dysfunction.  I'm not sure why and I certainly don't spend a lot of time agonizing over it.

God has not only drawn me out of it, but He has provided the tools to moved beyond it.  That's pretty amazing to me.  God has provided a way to change my legacy by showing me that my family's dysfunction is not my destiny.

Here is the video for the song I referenced.  I encourage you to listen to it and apply it to your dysfunctional family tree.

A long time ago...

People used to send lovely little cards like the one above.  No, not so long ago that the dinosaurs were roaming the earth but it seems like that long ago.

I think our "have to have it right now" mentality has made us hunger for immediate gratification and lose all respect for who provided for the gratification.

It wasn't during my childhood that I learned how important it was to show appreciation for what I received.  However, it was during that time when I had absolutely nothing, that I learned how to be thankful for what I was given. 

When I sat at the lunch table with my paper lunch sack in grade school, my only thought was that I hoped nobody saw I was eating a plain bread sandwich.  One time when a boy in my class saw what I was eating, he generously gave me half his banana and chips.  I savored every bite and was filled with gratitude.  The next week I walked to the gas station and bought that little boy M&Ms with change I dug out of my piggy bank.  At the time, it was the only way I had to show my appreciation for what he had done.

Of course, years later, I have learned that I can't buy M&Ms for everyone who does something I appreciate.  However, I have also learned that I can never do anything better than showing that person how appreciative I am by just saying "Thank you."

For me, the most efficient way to do this is to send a thank you note.  Occasionally when I have no stamps or note cards with me and I want to immediately share my heart or gratitude for an act of kindness, I will send an email or text message.  That's definitely my least favorable form of communication in this area. 

If someone sacrifices their time, energy, etc., I know that they deserve at least the few minutes it takes to sit down and jot down a genuine, from the heart thank you. 

What I can't figure out is, what happened to this type of communication?

I've talked with friends about this very subject.  Across the board, the thoughts are the same.  There seems to be a general loss of respect and appreciation for people who go out of their way to give or sacrifice for others.

Please understand, this isn't me patting my own back but merely giving you an example of what I am talking about. 

Last year at this time, my house was a disaster because of the remodel and we were on a limited budget.  I also had very little time to do anything besides work on the remodel.  One evening I put all of that aside to provide a meal for a family in need.  I had to purchase food items, make the meal and deliver it.  I was happy to do it.  I was happy to sacrifice my own wants at the store, so that I could afford a full meal for a family of five.  Because of the remodel, I had to wash every utensil and dish prior to cooking the meal.  Time and financial sacrifice it was, but again...I was happy to do it.

The next week, month, and year have passed and I never heard anything from the family.  No hint of appreciation during conversation, no thank you card, not one ounce of anything to encourage me to serve others in this way.

I think that gets to the heart of what the problem really is anyway.  The signs of appreciation are what encourage me to continue doing something.  When you feel good about something, you tend to want to do it more or at least know that you weren't completely off base with what you were trying to do.

Don't get me wrong, I have gotten thank you notes and cards from people.  But it is definitely lopsided by a 30:1 margin.  It makes me very sad.  Not because I feel like I deserve any recognition or anything for that matter.  But it makes me sad because the general population seems to have lost all sense of appreciation. 

Whether it is a gift, random act of kindness, a meal, an encouraging word that changes your day...I challenge you to make a point of showing your appreciation in genuine ways, ways that acknowledge the sacrifice that was made for you.

On the road again...

I'm sitting here in western Kansas listening to the wind gusts whip against the window screen of our hotel room.  The land on the other side of the window is flat, dry and a dull grayish shade of gold.  My husband is grabbing his post-breakfast, pre-drive nap before we head off on the last leg of our trip out to the mountains.

We have never traveled this far or long with three dogs.  I have to admit, it's been interesting.  Trying to meet the needs of the dogs is a challenge on long road trips.  I want them to stay hydrated so that they won't have a problem with the altitude change.  But of course, they don't understand and will only drink on their schedule. 

There were only a few mishaps yesterday and the funny thing is that they were all centered around one of our dogs.  Our boy dog!  Maybe it's true that boys are difficult!!!!  He laid down in the water bowl, which meant he was all wet for part of the trip.  Then one of his favorite toys fell out of the car and the blustery wind took it across a parking lot with me chasing behind.  He promptly vomited in his kennel upon arrival and squirmed out of his collar and leash, which led to a slick grab-the-tail catch by yours truly.

After checking into our hotel, we headed out to fill an RX that we forgot to pick up and find something for dinner in a town that only has about 10 restaurants.  The people aren't super friendly here, even though I know that's not typical for small town Kansas.  Afterward, we were able to relax and head to bed early. 

Our little monsters woke us up at their usual 5:30 potty time, which is promptly 4:30 mountain time.  They weren't the only ones who didn't get the memo that we are now on mountain time for the next week.  A particular parent decided she need to call us at 7:30.  I'm not sure I've been back to sleep since then.

Besides the wind, our only eventful weather was in southeast Kansas as we drove through a rain and monster snowflake mix.  Considering what the forecast had called for at various times throughout the week, I think we got fairly lucky. 

We got to stop in Salina, Kansas for lunch and indulge at the Cozy Inn.  They sell half-dollar sized onion burgers.  They are 85 cents each or you can get a bag of 4, a bag of chips and a can of pop for less than $5.  The greasy spoon doesn't have any inside seating, but it's a nationally known diner.  A must try if you are ever near Salina, KS and love burger joints.

Mostly this has already been a nice break from our usual routine.

I woke up with a particular bible verse in my head today.  in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.  1 Thessalonians 5:18

That hasn't happened to me for a long time.  I could have thought about the long drive and all the little mishaps we had.  But even in those, I would have to just be thankful for the opportunity to travel or have time to spend away from all that brings me down.  So today, I'm just thankful.

Rest

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Matthew 11:28

After so many years of having chronic insomnia, this is one of my favorite verses.

Even now, I know that days and days without sleep should have crippled me to the point of physical and mental exhaustion.  With a few exceptions, I was able to go days and weeks with no more than 1-2 hours of sleep in any 36 hour time period. 

I believe the reason I was able to function, albeit not well at times, was because of the rest promised in that verse.  It was the rest that came for my mind and body in other forms besides sleep.  For most people, rest means sleep and only sleep.  My rest came in other forms. 

There were times when I was able to close my eyes in a dark room at church and my mind would slow enough to feel a bit of escape from my exhaustion.  Other times, my rest would come in the form of a friend letting me doze on her couch or just be in a quiet place where I could relax.  There were even times when I reassured by a friend that they cared and were praying for me.

I still have problems with sleep, they haven't magically disappeared.  I am able to sleep 4-5 hours on average now, which is better.  I had two doctors tell me to be considered "cured" of my insomnia, I would need to sleep 8 hours per night for an average of 5 nights per week consistently and one week for each month I had suffered insomnia.  That would mean I need to sleep like that for about 40 weeks to be considered "cured" of my insomnia.  Whew!  I'm definitely not there yet.

Right now my pattern is to alternate nights of sleeping 4-6 hours or 1-2 hours per night.  I've got a ways to go.

As we get ready to leave for a week long vacation, I am reminded so affectionately of Matthew 11:28.  I'm exhausted!  I have enough going on in my life, that without insomnia, I'd still be exhausted. 

We have rented a vacation home in a canyon at the base of the Rocky Mountains.  There is no more beautiful place in the world, in my opinion.  We will have our dogs and all the comforts of home.  But, I'll struggle to get comfortable and sleep will be a challenge if the past is any indication. 

I know that I will find rest, regardless of sleep.  I'm so thankful that I can look forward to that rest.  God knows how much Kent and I both need it right now. 

I am hoping that this break away will be a time of rejuvenation for both of us....a chance to remember where our rest is found....a reminder where our strength comes from....a revival of the new creations we are to be.