In our area, drug use is an epidemic. The drug of choice is heroine. Have you ever been around anyone on heroine? It's tragic.
Heroine is 97% addictive on first use. That means after first use, most people cannot stop without intervention. It is also extremely lethal because overdose comes too quickly. Emergency personnel carry Narcan to reverse overdose and save lives.
Everyone here knows someone who is or has been an addict, from what I've seen.
You can also imagine that leads to a lot of resentment amongst many hard-working, tax paying citizens. There is a push here, and I'm sure elsewhere, to require drug testing before welfare benefits are given. They want benefits to be refused for anyone who tests positive for drugs.
I sort of get it. They are creative. They trade benefits for drugs or drug money. It's a viscous cycle for addicts.
But there's a side that everyone is missing. Drug testing might be the answer, but a simple denial of benefits isn't the answer.
Like usual, I find myself on the opposite side of popular social belief and for good reason.
When I was younger, my family was poor. My mom worked part time jobs or not at all. She was a sorry example of a stay at home mom, but that's what she did when we were young. She didn't go to work full time until I was in high school.
My dad worked a factory job and usually in management. However, his pay was low. Not nearly enough to support a family of five.
For a lot of years, we were on welfare. My mom used to go once a month and stand in line for bulk items. She got cheese, rice, peanut butter and whatever else was offered. Sometimes those were the only things in our house to eat. She got a small amount in food stamps. She used those to buy things for her and my dad.
My dad was involved in drugs. I don't know exactly what his usage was like, but it'd be odd for him to not have used at all.
Granted, it wasn't much, but welfare fed us kids a lot of our younger years. We got handouts from my grandma. She'd buy cereal and milk. When my mom worked at the grocery store, we'd get meats that we're going bad or other items that couldn't be sold.
I have to believe that if drug testing were a requirement back then for welfare, ours would have been denied.
The problem with this methodology is that the people who would suffer the most are the kids. We wouldn't have gotten fed.
Stopping welfare benefits for families when the parents are drug users only complicates life more for innocent children. We would effectively make children deal with drug using parents on empty stomachs.
The theory is flawed. If there is mandatory drug testing, our government needs to be prepared to remove and care for children when the parents test positive. I'm not sure that our government agencies are ready for that influx of foster children. The courts would be inundated and the children would get shoved back in the home and without food.
I share all of that to give you something to think about. Think about those things when you are electing politicians who want to pass bills on this. It's coming. It's an ongoing issue that has to be addressed. Make sure your asking your local politicians who's going to feed the children before they deny benefits.
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
Comforting Fears
There is probably no more appropriate way to follow my last post than this.
Since we don't have kids, all things come through a dog mom perspective.
As I vacuumed this morning, the puppy ran from one room to another. He'd sneak around the couch and then back to the bedroom. It wasn't the first time, he does this every time I vacuum. The little guy is pretty fearless.
Even when he was 2 lbs, he wasn't afraid of the bigger dogs. He had kind of a badass puppy mentality and feared nothing. You can imagine how the other dogs took that. The more mature dogs quickly established their dominance and let him know who was boss. More than once, he got snapped at. Nothing destructive, but they put him in his place.
He started to learn that he could get hurt. He began to see that world is a lot bigger than him. He started to show fear. He's not anxious, but he does have some fears. Some are very similar to what I've seen in children.
Obviously, he's afraid of the vacuum. He's scared of thunder. When we leave him in his kennel, he's fearful we won't return. I know because he won't leave my side when we get home and he cries when I get him out. A couple times, he's choked and come running. He wasn't in any danger, but he was shaking with fear.
Today, after the vacuum was put away, he jumped in my lap. I could tell he was relieved. I patted his little head and told him that the vacuum was harmless and I'd never let anything hurt him. He doesn't understand my words, but he understands that I'm a source of comfort and safety when he's afraid. He knows in my arms, bad things won't happen.
That's true. I love him and all my dogs. I made a decision to love and care for them and I take that seriously. Our pets aren't something we have just because it's a social norm. We've carefully chosen and committed to caring for them to the best of our ability until their last breath. That means we comfort and protect.
We have four dogs. I know all of their fears. Lucy is the oldest. She is afraid of strangers, animals bigger than her and tractors. Gizmo, our other boy, is afraid of machines of any kind. The poor guy runs away from the mixer. Winnie, our tiniest and most traumatized rescue, is afraid of men, leashes and stairs. We've comforted them all at different times.
We aren't sure what drives their fear, but know they have nothing to worry about. We will protect them to the best of our ability.
As I thought about that this morning, I think that's something I've been missing my entire life. Up until I was 32, I never had anyone comfort me through any of my fears. Nobody to really protect me. When I finally had one or two people who tried, I never believed them. It's something I've desperately needed this past year and didn't have.
It's funny, I know the typical Christian response to what I'm saying. God is sufficient. He is the answer. He is the comforter. Take all your fears to Him. I get it, I really do.
But...
I'm a slave to my flesh. Even though I know truth, I still need and desire an earthly comforter. I don't think it's wrong to want comfort in earthly form. I think it's a very real form of the hands and feet of Jesus. I guess what I'm saying is that the desire is absolutely normal and God can use anyone he'd like to be just that.
I'm 40 years old. I'm probably too old for anyone to pat me on the head and tell me it's ok, the vacuum or thunder won't hurt me. But even at 40, I still want that comfort when fear overwhelms me.
Monday, June 15, 2015
Wanted: Dad
Since I grew up void of any real father figure, I rarely miss having a dad. I never knew what it was like, so not having that relationship has never felt like much of a loss. Maybe because I'm a female, the loss/void of a mother-daughter relationship has always been a much bigger whole for me.
This past year has pushed me more into those feelings of wishing a had a father figure in my life. It isn't because we moved or even because it's been so difficult.
I think it's because this last year has made me long for someone to help me maneuver marriage and male issues.
My husband is ten years older than me. That means he's going to fall apart ten years faster. Besides that, he's had a myriad of self esteem problems and self doubt. He's questioned himself. He's questioned us. He's been super low. He's had more anxiety and fear.
I've desperately needed someone to listen and offer advice on how to handle these things.
Tomorrow we head to a back surgeon. The second ortho specialist for him this year. He didn't need surgery on his arm, but I'm not sure he will be able to avoid it. He has four bulging discs in his back with arthritis present in all of them. One of them is pinching is sciatic nerve. Something has to be done. Of course I'm praying for the least invasive, but will encourage whatever route is going to end the pain he has been in since last September.
I'm fearful. We are here alone. What am I supposed to do if he's down for weeks or months? I've not driven in city traffic for over 8 years. I'm fearful of even getting him to and from a surgical procedure.
It's all made me wish I had a male figure in my life to trust and lean on. Someone to count on. Someone who can step in and help if he's out for a while. I don't have that. I have brothers who don't care. He has brothers who can't and won't make the trip to help out.
We've recently been discussing whether to stay or leave. We are leaning toward staying, but I hate how alone we are. I hate that this is one of those times when I'm not really sure how things will turn out. I also hate that this kind of thing pushes me into a desire I've never had nor wanted.
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Embarrassing Mom
For the past two years, we've enjoyed watching the show the Goldbergs. It's set in an era when we were just kids. There are so many things that remind of us the crazy things about growing up in the 80s and 90s. High hair. Station wagons. Kids that stayed kids for a lot longer than they do now.
My husband likes it because it reminds him of his family. It's always chaos with something happening. The boys pick at each other with tiny signs of loving each other.
I like it because it's nice to see how a family, even a functional dysfunctional one works.
If you've never seen the show, the mother is constantly embarrassing her kids. I suppose that's just part of being a parent and child. They call her the hover mother though. She over encourages and praises her children and knows everything.
Last night as we watched a repeat, we started discussing moms. My husband says his mom never did anything embarrassing. She had plenty of opportunity since she was the school secretary. It kind of made me sad. He struggles with the lack of involvement his parents had in his life and not knowing if he was loved. Maybe silly stories like that might have been a reminder to him that they did care and were present.
Like usual, I didn't have anything positive to offer.
My mom never cared enough to be a part of my life. It was hard and still is.
But don't think she wasn't embarrassing. She was! Just not in a kiss you on the cheek when you're 16 in front of your friends kind of embarrassing.
Until my senior year of high school, I was a total wall flower. I was an excellent student, but blended into the masses. We all did. I was the intelligent one with straight As and an honor student. My middle brother was the track star who broke school records. My little brother was the golf standout who was a sweet kid. None of us ever got into trouble, but we weren't well known either. We didn't take similar class loads. So, most teachers and other students either didn't know us or didn't even know we were related. They still don't.
There were times when I was known by upperclassmen and I wished I weren't. When I was a freshman and sophomore, my mom worked at a local grocery store.
She worked there with juniors and seniors. She was also loose and carefree with her actions when she didn't think anyone was looking. She hit on students and kissed customers and employees. I'm positive it didn't stop there. She had multiple affairs that I knew about.
The upperclassmen didn't hesitate to tease and taunt me about my mom, the whore. That was most definitely embarrassing. I remember telling her that the guys from school said she was a whore. I remember so well that she said they hit on her. She thought a lot of herself.
It's so funny that those things aren't terribly disturbing memories for me and aren't often thought of. I suppose it might have been different if she'd been single. She wasn't. My parents are still married. Frankly, I don't know how or why.
My husband likes it because it reminds him of his family. It's always chaos with something happening. The boys pick at each other with tiny signs of loving each other.
I like it because it's nice to see how a family, even a functional dysfunctional one works.
If you've never seen the show, the mother is constantly embarrassing her kids. I suppose that's just part of being a parent and child. They call her the hover mother though. She over encourages and praises her children and knows everything.
Last night as we watched a repeat, we started discussing moms. My husband says his mom never did anything embarrassing. She had plenty of opportunity since she was the school secretary. It kind of made me sad. He struggles with the lack of involvement his parents had in his life and not knowing if he was loved. Maybe silly stories like that might have been a reminder to him that they did care and were present.
Like usual, I didn't have anything positive to offer.
My mom never cared enough to be a part of my life. It was hard and still is.
But don't think she wasn't embarrassing. She was! Just not in a kiss you on the cheek when you're 16 in front of your friends kind of embarrassing.
Until my senior year of high school, I was a total wall flower. I was an excellent student, but blended into the masses. We all did. I was the intelligent one with straight As and an honor student. My middle brother was the track star who broke school records. My little brother was the golf standout who was a sweet kid. None of us ever got into trouble, but we weren't well known either. We didn't take similar class loads. So, most teachers and other students either didn't know us or didn't even know we were related. They still don't.
There were times when I was known by upperclassmen and I wished I weren't. When I was a freshman and sophomore, my mom worked at a local grocery store.
She worked there with juniors and seniors. She was also loose and carefree with her actions when she didn't think anyone was looking. She hit on students and kissed customers and employees. I'm positive it didn't stop there. She had multiple affairs that I knew about.
The upperclassmen didn't hesitate to tease and taunt me about my mom, the whore. That was most definitely embarrassing. I remember telling her that the guys from school said she was a whore. I remember so well that she said they hit on her. She thought a lot of herself.
It's so funny that those things aren't terribly disturbing memories for me and aren't often thought of. I suppose it might have been different if she'd been single. She wasn't. My parents are still married. Frankly, I don't know how or why.
Monday, June 8, 2015
Little Lives
Between Facebook and the local news, I hear about a child's death or major, life-threatening illness all the time. It seems like there's a new one daily.
This past year, there's been so many on the news. A grandmother in Indiana decapitated her grandchild and a mother in Cincinnati did the same to her baby girl. A set of parents tortured and starved their two year old. It was horrific. The medical examiner said there was no food in her Stacy and air in her intestines. There's several more.
The young couple here lost their four month old. A couple back home lost their daughter this weekend when her heart stopped.
I have friends with children fighting cancer, heart problems, spina bifida and a variety of other things that are potentially life ending.
Despite the heartache and stress, most of these parents handle themselves with grace and confidence. That's not to say they don't worry and breakdown. I know they do. Their hearts grieve for what they've lost or how there children struggle.
I don't have to have children to know that these things are some of the most difficult of their lives. I know many of them, in their private moments, wrestle with what has or is happening.
As a bystander, encourager, somebody watching from afar, it's a struggle for me. I feel like these are the things that make me question God's soveriegnty the most. How could a loving God? How could a Jesus who loves children? How could they?
God formed each of those children. He knows every hair on their head. It's hard to understand why some babies come out perfect and live a seemingly perfect life, but others have such a long fight or lose the fight before their first breath.
If you wade through the pain of each individual situation, you'll see the many ways God has worked. He works in the child's life, the parents life and through the child. If you look past the pain, you can often find a perfect plan and understand that life couldn't have been any other way.
But on the surface, I know my heart struggles to really get it. I suppose I have to go back to the blind boy. The one where Jesus made it very clear that he was not blind because of his or his parents sin. It's obvious that his blindness was used to glorify God and show the works of Jesus.
I think these things are in front of me constantly so that I will continue to remind myself of truth. When disease or death comes to an elderly person, it's a bit expected, even through painful. Those things don't push me to consider Gods plan or truth. The truth seems to be in the circle of life. But, children aren't the same. They haven't lived a full life. They haven't experienced enough.
I would never say I'm thankful for any child's or parents pain. However, I have to be mindful and thankful for the many ways God uses the pain and situation. I have to be thankful for the many ways I've seen God glorified and prayers answered in so many of these.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Not Gone and Not Forgotten
There's absolutely no denying that this past year has brought an enormous amount of healing. Moving so far away from family, triggers and constant painful reminders of a life stolen has given. Me new hope, a new start. God has done amazing things in my life. Even through great struggles, there has been a great deal of positive change.
All that to say, I'm thankful for the changes. However, I've not forgotten. I have not forgotten that the bottom line has not changed.
This week, I heard about someone receiving the same diagnosis I did in 2010. While I don't know the person, my heart instantly broke for her and her family. I don't have to know them to fully grasp the pain, confusion and struggle they will face in the days, weeks, and lifetime ahead. I don't have to know the underlying issue that brought this young lady to where she is now, to intimately understand how trauma has impacted her life.
In full disclosure, I'll tell you that I won't fully disclose this part of my life. It's still too painful and misunderstood to trust the general population with it. There are only a few people active in my life who know and even they struggle to understand at times. A dozen others who've walked through parts of the past eight years with me know, but have no part in my life now. Nobody here in Ohio, except my husband, know the full story.
It's rare, only .01% of the worlds population has been diagnosed. There are more undiagnosed, but easily confused with other illnesses. Mine is complex enough that it will stay with me until the end of my days.
In times like right now, I'm ok with that. It's not a present problem and on the surface, I live a perfectly normal life. It's easy to shove it aside. The lack of mental health care available, makes it easier to set aside. However, I know I'm in trouble the second I can't keep it at bay.
Interestingly enough, I still can't get life insurance but I could buy a gun. Crazy, huh!
I could say that I began this journey eight years ago, but honestly the journey is life long. The healing began eight years ago. It's a process. Healing hasn't come easily and until this year, has never come quickly.
There's no medication for this illness, but it's not terminal. I hate that anyone ever has to hear their diagnosis. I hate the pain that brings them to that point in life. I hate that it's an illness that there isn't a textbook fix for. I hate that it's so misunderstood that people, like me, can't share with the general public. I hate that it's an isolating illness because it's not better understood.
Even though I live as if I'm normal, I've not forgotten. I've not forgotten this part of me. I've not forgotten that I still have a ways to go before I'll be made whole from all that broke me apart.
All that to say, I'm thankful for the changes. However, I've not forgotten. I have not forgotten that the bottom line has not changed.
This week, I heard about someone receiving the same diagnosis I did in 2010. While I don't know the person, my heart instantly broke for her and her family. I don't have to know them to fully grasp the pain, confusion and struggle they will face in the days, weeks, and lifetime ahead. I don't have to know the underlying issue that brought this young lady to where she is now, to intimately understand how trauma has impacted her life.
In full disclosure, I'll tell you that I won't fully disclose this part of my life. It's still too painful and misunderstood to trust the general population with it. There are only a few people active in my life who know and even they struggle to understand at times. A dozen others who've walked through parts of the past eight years with me know, but have no part in my life now. Nobody here in Ohio, except my husband, know the full story.
It's rare, only .01% of the worlds population has been diagnosed. There are more undiagnosed, but easily confused with other illnesses. Mine is complex enough that it will stay with me until the end of my days.
In times like right now, I'm ok with that. It's not a present problem and on the surface, I live a perfectly normal life. It's easy to shove it aside. The lack of mental health care available, makes it easier to set aside. However, I know I'm in trouble the second I can't keep it at bay.
Interestingly enough, I still can't get life insurance but I could buy a gun. Crazy, huh!
I could say that I began this journey eight years ago, but honestly the journey is life long. The healing began eight years ago. It's a process. Healing hasn't come easily and until this year, has never come quickly.
There's no medication for this illness, but it's not terminal. I hate that anyone ever has to hear their diagnosis. I hate the pain that brings them to that point in life. I hate that it's an illness that there isn't a textbook fix for. I hate that it's so misunderstood that people, like me, can't share with the general public. I hate that it's an isolating illness because it's not better understood.
Even though I live as if I'm normal, I've not forgotten. I've not forgotten this part of me. I've not forgotten that I still have a ways to go before I'll be made whole from all that broke me apart.
Saturday, June 6, 2015
The Movie
Well, I did it. I paid the $1.50 at redbox and rented 50 Shades. We watched it for our Friday movie night. I've definitely got some observations.
You won't see what I've previously said, because I removed the posts. However, I had a definite opinion about all the negative hype. In short, I read the books and found the story to be one of restoration and beauty.
After watching the movie, I understand why people were so up in arms over it being pornography. The movie focuses on the sex part of the book and leaves out so much context. I would never want to watch this movie with anyone but my husband, as it is soft core porn. The movie actually degrades the book because it is so focused on the sex.
I still stand by my original opinions that at no point in the book or movie is rape portrayed as being ok. There is no rape and nobody is taken advantage of at all. The woman is a willing participant and the two are in a monogamous relationship. I ask my husband, who hasn't read the books, and he concurred. It was two adults who were consenting and only with each other. He too had no clue how anyone could say that rape was involved.
Here's something else unexpected that I got from the movie. There's probably a reason I can understand the back story and sexual activity as something more than just being about sex. I realize that it takes someone who can truly identify with the story to understand it. If you don't, it's probably going to be nothing more than smut. Another conclusion that my husband agreed with. He agreed that if the movie put more emphasis on the back story, he'd have understood more. And that I probably got it more because of how my life has gone.
I won't be rushing out to buy the movie and is still never recommend it to anyone. I too would shake anyone who allowed their children to watch it. However, I still stand by the idea that our past warps us and in some cases that manifests in obscure sexual behavior. As long as that behavior isn't deviant, then it's nobody's place to judge.
You won't see what I've previously said, because I removed the posts. However, I had a definite opinion about all the negative hype. In short, I read the books and found the story to be one of restoration and beauty.
After watching the movie, I understand why people were so up in arms over it being pornography. The movie focuses on the sex part of the book and leaves out so much context. I would never want to watch this movie with anyone but my husband, as it is soft core porn. The movie actually degrades the book because it is so focused on the sex.
I still stand by my original opinions that at no point in the book or movie is rape portrayed as being ok. There is no rape and nobody is taken advantage of at all. The woman is a willing participant and the two are in a monogamous relationship. I ask my husband, who hasn't read the books, and he concurred. It was two adults who were consenting and only with each other. He too had no clue how anyone could say that rape was involved.
Here's something else unexpected that I got from the movie. There's probably a reason I can understand the back story and sexual activity as something more than just being about sex. I realize that it takes someone who can truly identify with the story to understand it. If you don't, it's probably going to be nothing more than smut. Another conclusion that my husband agreed with. He agreed that if the movie put more emphasis on the back story, he'd have understood more. And that I probably got it more because of how my life has gone.
I won't be rushing out to buy the movie and is still never recommend it to anyone. I too would shake anyone who allowed their children to watch it. However, I still stand by the idea that our past warps us and in some cases that manifests in obscure sexual behavior. As long as that behavior isn't deviant, then it's nobody's place to judge.
Thursday, June 4, 2015
I'm good and you?
No matter what we are going through, that's always the response we give when someone asks how we are doing. How are you? I'm great. I'm doing well. And yourself? It make take every ounce of energy we have, but we smile and give the conditioned response.
What are we truly saying when that is our untruthful response?
We are saying that we don't trust the person asking. We are hiding from truth. We don't want to allow that person to show any sort of love or compassion for us. We pridefully don't want that person to help carry a burden. We don't want to allow the person to pray for us or experience joy when they see God work in our lives. We put up a wall to everyone. We indirectly tell that person that it's better to lie than tell the truth. Likewise, we are conditioning them to give the same response despite what their life holds.
Why? Why do we do that? Why aren't we honest?
There's so many reasons. We simply don't trust. We don't feel loved. We don't want to burden as the other person surely has much more going on in life that is far more important. We aren't important. We will be judged or considered a complainer. We are conditioned to know that's the expected response.
This, my friends, is why people think they are the only ones who struggle. Especially in church!
The past four times in church, I've done exactly the same thing with the few people who ask how I am. Fighting back tears, sucking it up, I smiled and enthusiastically said I was great. It was a complete and utter lie.
The first two of those Sunday's, I was mentally preparing myself for the death of my friend and the trip back. The past two, I've struggled with her death and being lonely. Nobody would know, except my husband. He's the one who sees me struggling to maintain a routine because of depression. Nobody else could know.
When I'm asked, I don't say that things are ok but I'm lonely and grieving. So, things aren't really ok, they kind of stink right now.
That's not what people want to hear. That kind of truth scares people. Freezes them in the moment and they don't know what to say. There are wrong responses in that moment. I've heard them. But most people know how to show compassion in that moment. Even if they don't, there's grace to fill the gap.
Several months ago, I had a few moments of complete honesty with strangers. It was truthful, but maybe not shared in the kindest of ways. My emotions were raw in all areas of my life. Lonely. Two losses. Illness. I'm not making excuses, but explaining why the emotions were so surface and deep. I'm not sure anyone considered or even bothered to ask what was at the core of the emotions. It was also a time that grace didn't really fill in the gap.
I share that only to say that our personal experiences also condition us to hide the truth. Why we choose to hurt in silence and lie to people.
We know this world is broken and constantly kicks us. It happens to each other. About half the people who say they are great, really do mean it. But the others are hurting and struggling.
There is a lady who sits in front of us at church who lost her brother recently. I only know that because her brother was my husband's coworker who died in an auto accident. Every Sunday, she smiles and says she's great. That maybe true. I don't know her personally. I still pray for her while I'm sitting there because I know she is at the very least living a new normal and missing her brother.
We want people to be compassionate and extend grace, but it's going to take a lot of change before we allow that to happen. Dear Lord, let us be more honest and compassionate to those who struggle. Let us see each as Jesus would if he were sitting next to us.
What are we truly saying when that is our untruthful response?
We are saying that we don't trust the person asking. We are hiding from truth. We don't want to allow that person to show any sort of love or compassion for us. We pridefully don't want that person to help carry a burden. We don't want to allow the person to pray for us or experience joy when they see God work in our lives. We put up a wall to everyone. We indirectly tell that person that it's better to lie than tell the truth. Likewise, we are conditioning them to give the same response despite what their life holds.
Why? Why do we do that? Why aren't we honest?
There's so many reasons. We simply don't trust. We don't feel loved. We don't want to burden as the other person surely has much more going on in life that is far more important. We aren't important. We will be judged or considered a complainer. We are conditioned to know that's the expected response.
This, my friends, is why people think they are the only ones who struggle. Especially in church!
The past four times in church, I've done exactly the same thing with the few people who ask how I am. Fighting back tears, sucking it up, I smiled and enthusiastically said I was great. It was a complete and utter lie.
The first two of those Sunday's, I was mentally preparing myself for the death of my friend and the trip back. The past two, I've struggled with her death and being lonely. Nobody would know, except my husband. He's the one who sees me struggling to maintain a routine because of depression. Nobody else could know.
When I'm asked, I don't say that things are ok but I'm lonely and grieving. So, things aren't really ok, they kind of stink right now.
That's not what people want to hear. That kind of truth scares people. Freezes them in the moment and they don't know what to say. There are wrong responses in that moment. I've heard them. But most people know how to show compassion in that moment. Even if they don't, there's grace to fill the gap.
Several months ago, I had a few moments of complete honesty with strangers. It was truthful, but maybe not shared in the kindest of ways. My emotions were raw in all areas of my life. Lonely. Two losses. Illness. I'm not making excuses, but explaining why the emotions were so surface and deep. I'm not sure anyone considered or even bothered to ask what was at the core of the emotions. It was also a time that grace didn't really fill in the gap.
I share that only to say that our personal experiences also condition us to hide the truth. Why we choose to hurt in silence and lie to people.
We know this world is broken and constantly kicks us. It happens to each other. About half the people who say they are great, really do mean it. But the others are hurting and struggling.
There is a lady who sits in front of us at church who lost her brother recently. I only know that because her brother was my husband's coworker who died in an auto accident. Every Sunday, she smiles and says she's great. That maybe true. I don't know her personally. I still pray for her while I'm sitting there because I know she is at the very least living a new normal and missing her brother.
We want people to be compassionate and extend grace, but it's going to take a lot of change before we allow that to happen. Dear Lord, let us be more honest and compassionate to those who struggle. Let us see each as Jesus would if he were sitting next to us.
Wednesday, June 3, 2015
On Fire
Those aren't my words, but a song I heard today. The song talks about how once you had a fire for the Lord and weren't afraid to tell anyone. Now the fire has gone out, but the Lord wants to start it again. That's a quick summary.
As I listened to the song, I couldn't help but look back at my time as a Christian. I've seen two ways people come out of baptism or accepting Christ. They either don't know what to do (which are usually kids) and people who are on fire (those are usually the adults).
I believe an acceptance and baptism as an adult comes with a greater understanding and capacity to know the depth of change this will create in life. That is because rarely does an adult come to know Christ by accident not by boredom. Nobody ever says, hey my life is going so good I think I'll add a little Jesus. Most come to Christ understanding they are broken and their lives are messy.
Learning that kind of hope in the midst of mess leads most people to have a fire in them. They have found this thing that infuses their life with light in a dark world. Most people want others to know that kind of hope and love because you begin to see just how broken the world is.
I had that once. I wanted to shout it everywhere. I joined the witnessing team. I stood amongst gangsters and at bus stops with homeless people, sharing the hope they could have in Jesus. I replaced filthy cartoons on my desk with crosses and scripture. I did the same in my home with random pictures. If the church doors were open, I was there. I stood up to anyone who told me I was wrong.
But my fire fizzled.
Why?
The church.
Ok, so not the church as much as my spoiled idea of what Christians were like. Maybe more accurately, it was a sullied idea of how Christians would treat me.
When I went with the witnessing team, I was constantly told I was doing it wrong. I was told I needed to tell people they were sinners and going to hell. I couldn't do it. If someone had presented the gospel to me in that way, I'd have run the other way. It was so offensive. Not that the bible isn't to sinners and those apart from God. It is. But I needed to be able to present a more passionate God, the one I knew, before telling someone they'd surely go to hell without an immediate conversion.
After silently handing out tracts that were tossed on the ground two feet behind my back, I knew this wasn't the place for me.
One day at work, I had an employee sit in my office and tell me that she no longer wanted to hear my music and found my crosses to be offensive. I'd have been able to take that but she was screaming and about a foot from my face when she went into full attack mode. Having just given up my family for Christ, this felt like a brutal attack on an open wound.
I was at the church when the doors were open, but I constantly questioned why. The information was so foreign to me. My first bible study was Beth Moore's Daniel. It was tough for mature Christians. I was lost. The first time I tried to eat dinner with other ladies, they weren't nice at all. Another lady told an entire group of women that of girls wear short skirts they deserved to be raped. Touchy subject for certain.
I often sat in a corner alone because nobody talked to me. When I finally started making friends, I bounced from one disaster to another. Seriously. You'd not even believe me if I told you cause they were that jacked up.
While the fire was fizzling, our pastor left and thus began the ordeal with leadership and next pastor. It was a crazy time. It was also a crazy time in my personal life.
The fire started to come back as a renewal of my relationship with Christ began early last year. Things were great and I didn't hesitate to tell anyone what God has done in my life. God was the leader of my life and I had a confidence in Him I'd thought was once lost.
Then I went into our church here with that confidence and fire, but it was the wrong setting and timing. I was an outsider and the people are different. Not bad, just different. My confidence was offensive and so was I. My confidence made me more like a bull in a china shop.
So, the fire fizzled again. My bible gets opened on Sunday's when I remember to take it. My study bible gets touched when I dust. I pray, but with a lack of enthusiasm.
Going back to the song. I hope it's true. I hope that God continues to pursue and has a plan to start the fire again.
As I listened to the song, I couldn't help but look back at my time as a Christian. I've seen two ways people come out of baptism or accepting Christ. They either don't know what to do (which are usually kids) and people who are on fire (those are usually the adults).
I believe an acceptance and baptism as an adult comes with a greater understanding and capacity to know the depth of change this will create in life. That is because rarely does an adult come to know Christ by accident not by boredom. Nobody ever says, hey my life is going so good I think I'll add a little Jesus. Most come to Christ understanding they are broken and their lives are messy.
Learning that kind of hope in the midst of mess leads most people to have a fire in them. They have found this thing that infuses their life with light in a dark world. Most people want others to know that kind of hope and love because you begin to see just how broken the world is.
I had that once. I wanted to shout it everywhere. I joined the witnessing team. I stood amongst gangsters and at bus stops with homeless people, sharing the hope they could have in Jesus. I replaced filthy cartoons on my desk with crosses and scripture. I did the same in my home with random pictures. If the church doors were open, I was there. I stood up to anyone who told me I was wrong.
But my fire fizzled.
Why?
The church.
Ok, so not the church as much as my spoiled idea of what Christians were like. Maybe more accurately, it was a sullied idea of how Christians would treat me.
When I went with the witnessing team, I was constantly told I was doing it wrong. I was told I needed to tell people they were sinners and going to hell. I couldn't do it. If someone had presented the gospel to me in that way, I'd have run the other way. It was so offensive. Not that the bible isn't to sinners and those apart from God. It is. But I needed to be able to present a more passionate God, the one I knew, before telling someone they'd surely go to hell without an immediate conversion.
After silently handing out tracts that were tossed on the ground two feet behind my back, I knew this wasn't the place for me.
One day at work, I had an employee sit in my office and tell me that she no longer wanted to hear my music and found my crosses to be offensive. I'd have been able to take that but she was screaming and about a foot from my face when she went into full attack mode. Having just given up my family for Christ, this felt like a brutal attack on an open wound.
I was at the church when the doors were open, but I constantly questioned why. The information was so foreign to me. My first bible study was Beth Moore's Daniel. It was tough for mature Christians. I was lost. The first time I tried to eat dinner with other ladies, they weren't nice at all. Another lady told an entire group of women that of girls wear short skirts they deserved to be raped. Touchy subject for certain.
I often sat in a corner alone because nobody talked to me. When I finally started making friends, I bounced from one disaster to another. Seriously. You'd not even believe me if I told you cause they were that jacked up.
While the fire was fizzling, our pastor left and thus began the ordeal with leadership and next pastor. It was a crazy time. It was also a crazy time in my personal life.
The fire started to come back as a renewal of my relationship with Christ began early last year. Things were great and I didn't hesitate to tell anyone what God has done in my life. God was the leader of my life and I had a confidence in Him I'd thought was once lost.
Then I went into our church here with that confidence and fire, but it was the wrong setting and timing. I was an outsider and the people are different. Not bad, just different. My confidence was offensive and so was I. My confidence made me more like a bull in a china shop.
So, the fire fizzled again. My bible gets opened on Sunday's when I remember to take it. My study bible gets touched when I dust. I pray, but with a lack of enthusiasm.
Going back to the song. I hope it's true. I hope that God continues to pursue and has a plan to start the fire again.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Sounding Board
Today is one of those days when I wish I had another outlet. Social media is just a bad place for it cause then people think I've gone off the deep end or I'm promoting some righteous religious judgement. It's not any of that. There are things I can't wrap my head around and frankly, piss me off.
So I'm stuck on the crap surrounding Bruce Jenner. Yes, his name is Bruce. He was born a man and that's how God made him. Honestly, that's as religious as this is going to get. I don't really care what people choose to do to their bodies or how they live their lives unless it has a direct effect on my life. This doesn't.
You can go back and read a previous post about how I can't understand transsexuals. I somewhat get homosexuality even if I choose to live a life that is completely different. I don't understand and that's as simple as it gets. That's not even what this is about.
I'm disgusted. It's disgusting how people have embraced and praised this man.
Another blogger pointed out that it's offensive for women and I'd agree on general principle.
But it's disgusting how he's receiving so much attention and positivity for this.
ESPN is honoring him with the Arthur Ashe courage award. Courage for what? Living a lie? Arthur Ashe was an excellent tennis player who contracted HIV through a blood transfusion during an open heart surgery. He died with dignity and was honored for his excellence.
Becoming a tranny isn't doing anything courageous. What about today's athletes who are courageous? There's a young man who hears nothing and will be playing in the NFL this year. Our area lost a young basketball player to brain cancer who raised millions for research in her dying days. There are multiple professional athletes battling disease or have overcome drug and violence infested homes and streets. There are so many people who are far more worthy.
Our president sends form letters to families who lose loved ones in combat and in service to our country. However, he took to social media to call Jenner a hero. What? Hero? NO!
Heroes are fireman, police officers, service men, everyday people who do extraordinary things like pull people from burning cars, help blind people cross intersections, or stand up to drug dealers on their corner.
Jenner was an Olympian and should be recognized as such. Thousands of people have been Olympians since him and have done far better. His only claim to fame now is the family he married into who are known for what?
What the hell? These aren't the messages I want presented to my nieces and nephews. They need to know what real courage is and who real heroes are.
You aren't a hero and you're not courageous just because you grow breasts with hormones, have reconstructive surgery to make your face look feminine, curl your hair or hide your dingaling in skimpy clothing for a magazine cover.
So I'm stuck on the crap surrounding Bruce Jenner. Yes, his name is Bruce. He was born a man and that's how God made him. Honestly, that's as religious as this is going to get. I don't really care what people choose to do to their bodies or how they live their lives unless it has a direct effect on my life. This doesn't.
You can go back and read a previous post about how I can't understand transsexuals. I somewhat get homosexuality even if I choose to live a life that is completely different. I don't understand and that's as simple as it gets. That's not even what this is about.
I'm disgusted. It's disgusting how people have embraced and praised this man.
Another blogger pointed out that it's offensive for women and I'd agree on general principle.
But it's disgusting how he's receiving so much attention and positivity for this.
ESPN is honoring him with the Arthur Ashe courage award. Courage for what? Living a lie? Arthur Ashe was an excellent tennis player who contracted HIV through a blood transfusion during an open heart surgery. He died with dignity and was honored for his excellence.
Becoming a tranny isn't doing anything courageous. What about today's athletes who are courageous? There's a young man who hears nothing and will be playing in the NFL this year. Our area lost a young basketball player to brain cancer who raised millions for research in her dying days. There are multiple professional athletes battling disease or have overcome drug and violence infested homes and streets. There are so many people who are far more worthy.
Our president sends form letters to families who lose loved ones in combat and in service to our country. However, he took to social media to call Jenner a hero. What? Hero? NO!
Heroes are fireman, police officers, service men, everyday people who do extraordinary things like pull people from burning cars, help blind people cross intersections, or stand up to drug dealers on their corner.
Jenner was an Olympian and should be recognized as such. Thousands of people have been Olympians since him and have done far better. His only claim to fame now is the family he married into who are known for what?
What the hell? These aren't the messages I want presented to my nieces and nephews. They need to know what real courage is and who real heroes are.
You aren't a hero and you're not courageous just because you grow breasts with hormones, have reconstructive surgery to make your face look feminine, curl your hair or hide your dingaling in skimpy clothing for a magazine cover.
Monday, June 1, 2015
What We Say
This maybe a subject I've covered many times and if I haven't...well I should have. I need this reminder. Often!
Have you ever considered what you're saying to your spouse? I don't mean the actual words so much as the the messages you are sending them? I don't mean just verbally either but non verbal too.
If your spouse was apart from you, what would they say their interpretation of what you think of them would be?
Of course, all of us would want their spouse to have only favorable things to say. Right? I know I would. I want my husband to always feel loved by me and I always want him to have a positive view of how I feel about him.
I know I'd want him to say that he is loved and cared for all the time. I'd want him to feel like the best husband ever because that's what I'd want my messages to convey. Likewise, I'd want him to say he has the best wife ever.
Do you think if he were being completely honest that he'd really say that? What would your spouse really say?
Marriage is hard. It's a lifetime melding of two completely different people and there's going to be a lot of clashes in that process. It seems like this perfect gathering at the beginning because we romanticize marriage. Then we learn that things aren't perfect and neither are people. It's work. It's hard work. One of the hardest parts is learning what the other person needs and how to adequately encourage them. I would even guess that those things don't even become a priority until you learn how to live with wach other physically.
Don't get me wrong, marriage is still a beautiful thing. It may seem cliche, but the greatest growth comes in the most difficult trials. The process, grace and forgiveness are all beautiful parts of marriage, despite the painful road to get there.
So, I told you what I would want my husband to say. However, if I'm honest, why would he really say?
He would probably tell you he's the worst husband in the world. He can't do anything right. He doesn't know how to love me like a husband should. He would probably tell you he feels like a failure and be down on himself physically.
Is that because those are the messages I'm sending? Yes, sometimes. In his case, I don't get all the credit. He has a very low self esteem and has several areas in his thinking that come out of his childhood. I could blame it all on that, but I won't. I own responsibility.
Despite my best efforts, I've still not learned the best ways to encourage him knowing his predisposition to low self esteem. I also let my own selfishness and emotions to say things that pick at his insecurities. I'm not careful enough and I'm certainly not loving when I most need to be.
Needless to say, I have a long ways to go before those messages are translated to what I'd really like him to feel and believe.
A wise person told me once that if I see an area of concern in my marriage, I need to spend some time considering how things look from the other side, his side. That's what I've tried to do here.
This weekend, I found myself feeling very down on who I was as a wife. Why? Because of the messages I get from my husband. My interpretation of his messages verbal and non verbal are that I'm a horrible wife and person. I'm not desirable and am unworthy of everything I have. I am unlikable. I'm lazy and could never do enough to have a clean or presentable life.
I won't go into it, but most of that comes from very verbal messages. Yes, even at nearly 17 years, we struggle to just be nice to each other at times.
I'm definitely not a perfect wife, but I do have to consider how I've been lately. It's possible that my messages need to change. It's possible that changing my messages may alter what I receive.
I wish I would have written down my ideas of marriage when I was 23 and thought I'd be a perfect wife in a perfect marriage. I'm sure back then, when I had it all figured out, my perceptions were way different. I don't have to remember it perfectly to know that I've matured a lot and learned it's a process not a perfect story.
Have you ever considered what you're saying to your spouse? I don't mean the actual words so much as the the messages you are sending them? I don't mean just verbally either but non verbal too.
If your spouse was apart from you, what would they say their interpretation of what you think of them would be?
Of course, all of us would want their spouse to have only favorable things to say. Right? I know I would. I want my husband to always feel loved by me and I always want him to have a positive view of how I feel about him.
I know I'd want him to say that he is loved and cared for all the time. I'd want him to feel like the best husband ever because that's what I'd want my messages to convey. Likewise, I'd want him to say he has the best wife ever.
Do you think if he were being completely honest that he'd really say that? What would your spouse really say?
Marriage is hard. It's a lifetime melding of two completely different people and there's going to be a lot of clashes in that process. It seems like this perfect gathering at the beginning because we romanticize marriage. Then we learn that things aren't perfect and neither are people. It's work. It's hard work. One of the hardest parts is learning what the other person needs and how to adequately encourage them. I would even guess that those things don't even become a priority until you learn how to live with wach other physically.
Don't get me wrong, marriage is still a beautiful thing. It may seem cliche, but the greatest growth comes in the most difficult trials. The process, grace and forgiveness are all beautiful parts of marriage, despite the painful road to get there.
So, I told you what I would want my husband to say. However, if I'm honest, why would he really say?
He would probably tell you he's the worst husband in the world. He can't do anything right. He doesn't know how to love me like a husband should. He would probably tell you he feels like a failure and be down on himself physically.
Is that because those are the messages I'm sending? Yes, sometimes. In his case, I don't get all the credit. He has a very low self esteem and has several areas in his thinking that come out of his childhood. I could blame it all on that, but I won't. I own responsibility.
Despite my best efforts, I've still not learned the best ways to encourage him knowing his predisposition to low self esteem. I also let my own selfishness and emotions to say things that pick at his insecurities. I'm not careful enough and I'm certainly not loving when I most need to be.
Needless to say, I have a long ways to go before those messages are translated to what I'd really like him to feel and believe.
A wise person told me once that if I see an area of concern in my marriage, I need to spend some time considering how things look from the other side, his side. That's what I've tried to do here.
This weekend, I found myself feeling very down on who I was as a wife. Why? Because of the messages I get from my husband. My interpretation of his messages verbal and non verbal are that I'm a horrible wife and person. I'm not desirable and am unworthy of everything I have. I am unlikable. I'm lazy and could never do enough to have a clean or presentable life.
I won't go into it, but most of that comes from very verbal messages. Yes, even at nearly 17 years, we struggle to just be nice to each other at times.
I'm definitely not a perfect wife, but I do have to consider how I've been lately. It's possible that my messages need to change. It's possible that changing my messages may alter what I receive.
I wish I would have written down my ideas of marriage when I was 23 and thought I'd be a perfect wife in a perfect marriage. I'm sure back then, when I had it all figured out, my perceptions were way different. I don't have to remember it perfectly to know that I've matured a lot and learned it's a process not a perfect story.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
There are no outsiders...
in the body of Christ.
There shouldn't be anyway.
Not that I don't always, but I'm going to get pretty real.
I struggle in church. No surprise there, I suppose. Sunday mornings are the most lonely, painful time in my entire weekly routine. It shouldn't be that way. Being amongst other believers, brothers and sisters in Christ, should be some of the most encouraging times of the week.
Let me start by saying, I'm not saying people in church are bad or it's just this church. Sunday mornings in church touch on a very real, very insecure core value that was set for me as a child.
If you don't know, I grew up in a place where church was bad. God was bad. I didn't belong there. Church people and church buildings were off limits and became a very fearful area for me. That's the way it was for 32 years. Church was a place for anyone but me, I didn't belong there.
Keep in mind, I know that God tells me through the bible and His love for me tells me that I do belong in church.
But what happens nearly every Sunday and has for eight years, taps into all those insecurities of feeling as though I don't belong.
At our first church, it took over five years before I felt as though I wasn't invisible. As a new Christian, who didn't know how church worked or what to really expect of church people, church was a difficult thing.
I was a bit strange to them and a lot introverted. I was out of my element. On the flip side, not many really cared about my comfort level. My comfort level had a direct affect on my Christian walk. Not many understood that and only a couple people ever took an active role in trying to help.
At our second church, it was better. It was so full, that it wasn't lonely for the first few months. Once we found out we were moving, it certainly went back to feeling lonely. Once people knew, they chose to not invest any time in us.
We've been here at this church for a year now. Let me describe a Sunday morning. There is one woman who will shake my hand, give me a hug and say hello. Another that sits in the same row will also say hello. If they are gone, I literally have no interaction with anyone except my husband.
Today's like today, I sit alone waiting for church to start. My husband is serving in the sound booth. People I've met pass by with not so much of a glance. I sit fighting back tears as I hear the hum of everyone visiting. I hear familiar voices chatting while I sit completely alone.
In that moment, my insecurities surface. I begin to question what is wrong with me. Why do I repel people? I think back over everything I've said or done for the past year. There's nothing I've done or said that shouldn't have been covered by grace and vice versa. There's should be nothing standing in the way of me being a part of this body.
This church isn't unique. I've been here over and over. It doesn't drive me away from God, but it does push me further from being an active member of the body. It doesn't encourage me to love nor to be comfortable.
Most people have no clue that this is a struggle for me. They have no clue that satan uses their actions to separate me from the body.
It's been eight years. I've tried so many different ways to make this different. I'm at a loss on how to make a change. I've no clue how to not feel like an outsider.
There are no outsiders in the body. Even in the midst of sinners, there's no outsiders.
I didn't grow up here. I didn't grow up in the church. So, how do we change the church to embrace people who not always been there?
I've so rarely not been the outsider. However, I've done my best to embrace people who came behind me. People who became Christians later in life and are walking a similar path into the church body. Yes, this struggle is far from being mine alone.
For the better, churches are communities. For some, it's their only community. But, that community has a great influence on the growth and faith, especially of those who didn't grow up in church. Why can't they see that? What will it take for God to change hearts? What has to happen for the body to become all inclusive?
Do you? Do you speak to new people? Do you reach out to the lonely? It's not difficult to find them. Look around. We are in each and every church. We are waiting to see the kindness of Christ in others. We are waiting to feel a part of the body in ways only you can provide.
There shouldn't be anyway.
Not that I don't always, but I'm going to get pretty real.
I struggle in church. No surprise there, I suppose. Sunday mornings are the most lonely, painful time in my entire weekly routine. It shouldn't be that way. Being amongst other believers, brothers and sisters in Christ, should be some of the most encouraging times of the week.
Let me start by saying, I'm not saying people in church are bad or it's just this church. Sunday mornings in church touch on a very real, very insecure core value that was set for me as a child.
If you don't know, I grew up in a place where church was bad. God was bad. I didn't belong there. Church people and church buildings were off limits and became a very fearful area for me. That's the way it was for 32 years. Church was a place for anyone but me, I didn't belong there.
Keep in mind, I know that God tells me through the bible and His love for me tells me that I do belong in church.
But what happens nearly every Sunday and has for eight years, taps into all those insecurities of feeling as though I don't belong.
At our first church, it took over five years before I felt as though I wasn't invisible. As a new Christian, who didn't know how church worked or what to really expect of church people, church was a difficult thing.
I was a bit strange to them and a lot introverted. I was out of my element. On the flip side, not many really cared about my comfort level. My comfort level had a direct affect on my Christian walk. Not many understood that and only a couple people ever took an active role in trying to help.
At our second church, it was better. It was so full, that it wasn't lonely for the first few months. Once we found out we were moving, it certainly went back to feeling lonely. Once people knew, they chose to not invest any time in us.
We've been here at this church for a year now. Let me describe a Sunday morning. There is one woman who will shake my hand, give me a hug and say hello. Another that sits in the same row will also say hello. If they are gone, I literally have no interaction with anyone except my husband.
Today's like today, I sit alone waiting for church to start. My husband is serving in the sound booth. People I've met pass by with not so much of a glance. I sit fighting back tears as I hear the hum of everyone visiting. I hear familiar voices chatting while I sit completely alone.
In that moment, my insecurities surface. I begin to question what is wrong with me. Why do I repel people? I think back over everything I've said or done for the past year. There's nothing I've done or said that shouldn't have been covered by grace and vice versa. There's should be nothing standing in the way of me being a part of this body.
This church isn't unique. I've been here over and over. It doesn't drive me away from God, but it does push me further from being an active member of the body. It doesn't encourage me to love nor to be comfortable.
Most people have no clue that this is a struggle for me. They have no clue that satan uses their actions to separate me from the body.
It's been eight years. I've tried so many different ways to make this different. I'm at a loss on how to make a change. I've no clue how to not feel like an outsider.
There are no outsiders in the body. Even in the midst of sinners, there's no outsiders.
I didn't grow up here. I didn't grow up in the church. So, how do we change the church to embrace people who not always been there?
I've so rarely not been the outsider. However, I've done my best to embrace people who came behind me. People who became Christians later in life and are walking a similar path into the church body. Yes, this struggle is far from being mine alone.
For the better, churches are communities. For some, it's their only community. But, that community has a great influence on the growth and faith, especially of those who didn't grow up in church. Why can't they see that? What will it take for God to change hearts? What has to happen for the body to become all inclusive?
Do you? Do you speak to new people? Do you reach out to the lonely? It's not difficult to find them. Look around. We are in each and every church. We are waiting to see the kindness of Christ in others. We are waiting to feel a part of the body in ways only you can provide.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
This Time of Year
The Timehop app is a great reminder of what life was like year after year on today's date. It's always great to see how things have changed and pictures I've forgotten.
Over the past few days, I've realized that this time of year has been notoriously difficult.
Six years ago, I was going through the stress of sentencing with my previous office manager. Even though it was the close of a much more stressful time, sentencing was hard. Seeing her was hard. She apologized to the two owners, but not us. Not the people she probably emotionally hurt the worst. We had families struggling to feed their kids and she was living the high life. The doctors would approve cash bonuses and she would take the cash and go on vacation. She cut hours off paycheck a that were worked. She even personally attacked me by giving me and my info as contact info on maxed, unpaid credit cards so that collection calls came to me. Of course it was a difficult time.
Four years ago, we had our accident. It was hard to recover physically. My concussion caused dizziness for six months. Anxiety was high. It was a tough time.
Last year, we were both in a serious funk after moving. We both cried night after night and wanted to go back home. It was this time last year that we also had a pretty good idea our second contract on our house was going to fall through.
All the other years show a consistency in depression and anxiety.
Last night at bible study, we talked about how this time of year is typically a time when a lot of people feel that resistance of uphill battles, especially spiritually.
Honestly, I know this is true for me now. I feel distant from God. As if I'm rowing toward him only half-heartedly and getting further away.
There's nothing specific that's causing it. Not massive trial, not constant hurt. There are constants, but nothing that I can say, it's all that.
One of things mentioned last night is that it is important to feed into people but also to surround yourself with those who feed into you. A huge red flag went up for me. I know this. It's important to give and do, which I try to given my limited interaction with people. I send texts and cards and emails to encourage people. I try to provide meals or help to people here when the need is known. I've even tried to do that from afar by ordering pizza or gifts. I pray and send scripture when I know it's needed. I reach out to people who aren't Christians and try to show them a love that isn't my own.
I don't share any of that to make myself seem like a saint, I'm not. I'm not looking for a pat on the back. I do share it so that you can understand something I learned a while ago. Pouring out of yourself is wonderful and part of being the body of Christ. However, when you continually pour out without being poured into, you'll eventually be empty.
It was explained to me like a gas tank. If you use all the gas and never fill up, you're going to be stuck on empty and unable to keep going.
My gauge isn't on empty, but it's close. There have been short infusions throughout this past year, but nothing that has lasted. I don't have a group of people or close friends I can go to when I need that kind of encouragement and pouring into.
We do go to a bible study on Wednesday nights. We are usually the two youngest people, besides the minister. The people are sweet and it is usually our only time to refuel. An elderly lady from the class has sent a couple encouraging cards and they always pray for us when something is happening. But there's been nothing more, nothing that makes us feel close.
We go to church on Sunday. That's a great time of worship and we definitely feel taught. I can't say that we ever leave feeling close to anyone but God. That's not a bad thing. I'm just saying that relationship building and feeling like we get the encouragement we need to refuel isn't happening for us.
Please, please don't think I'm pointing a finger and saying anyone is doing something wrong, I'm not. It's quite probable that the problem is us. I only share that to show how easy it has been for us to run on empty a lot this past year.
I know even in that, God is sufficient. I think when you feel as though you're running on empty, it's even harder to hold onto Him. Even though that's when you should hold on the tightest.
Over the past few days, I've realized that this time of year has been notoriously difficult.
Six years ago, I was going through the stress of sentencing with my previous office manager. Even though it was the close of a much more stressful time, sentencing was hard. Seeing her was hard. She apologized to the two owners, but not us. Not the people she probably emotionally hurt the worst. We had families struggling to feed their kids and she was living the high life. The doctors would approve cash bonuses and she would take the cash and go on vacation. She cut hours off paycheck a that were worked. She even personally attacked me by giving me and my info as contact info on maxed, unpaid credit cards so that collection calls came to me. Of course it was a difficult time.
Four years ago, we had our accident. It was hard to recover physically. My concussion caused dizziness for six months. Anxiety was high. It was a tough time.
Last year, we were both in a serious funk after moving. We both cried night after night and wanted to go back home. It was this time last year that we also had a pretty good idea our second contract on our house was going to fall through.
All the other years show a consistency in depression and anxiety.
Last night at bible study, we talked about how this time of year is typically a time when a lot of people feel that resistance of uphill battles, especially spiritually.
Honestly, I know this is true for me now. I feel distant from God. As if I'm rowing toward him only half-heartedly and getting further away.
There's nothing specific that's causing it. Not massive trial, not constant hurt. There are constants, but nothing that I can say, it's all that.
One of things mentioned last night is that it is important to feed into people but also to surround yourself with those who feed into you. A huge red flag went up for me. I know this. It's important to give and do, which I try to given my limited interaction with people. I send texts and cards and emails to encourage people. I try to provide meals or help to people here when the need is known. I've even tried to do that from afar by ordering pizza or gifts. I pray and send scripture when I know it's needed. I reach out to people who aren't Christians and try to show them a love that isn't my own.
I don't share any of that to make myself seem like a saint, I'm not. I'm not looking for a pat on the back. I do share it so that you can understand something I learned a while ago. Pouring out of yourself is wonderful and part of being the body of Christ. However, when you continually pour out without being poured into, you'll eventually be empty.
It was explained to me like a gas tank. If you use all the gas and never fill up, you're going to be stuck on empty and unable to keep going.
My gauge isn't on empty, but it's close. There have been short infusions throughout this past year, but nothing that has lasted. I don't have a group of people or close friends I can go to when I need that kind of encouragement and pouring into.
We do go to a bible study on Wednesday nights. We are usually the two youngest people, besides the minister. The people are sweet and it is usually our only time to refuel. An elderly lady from the class has sent a couple encouraging cards and they always pray for us when something is happening. But there's been nothing more, nothing that makes us feel close.
We go to church on Sunday. That's a great time of worship and we definitely feel taught. I can't say that we ever leave feeling close to anyone but God. That's not a bad thing. I'm just saying that relationship building and feeling like we get the encouragement we need to refuel isn't happening for us.
Please, please don't think I'm pointing a finger and saying anyone is doing something wrong, I'm not. It's quite probable that the problem is us. I only share that to show how easy it has been for us to run on empty a lot this past year.
I know even in that, God is sufficient. I think when you feel as though you're running on empty, it's even harder to hold onto Him. Even though that's when you should hold on the tightest.
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
To Stay or Go?
That question has been on our minds a lot lately. I mentioned that a few posts back.
Contractually, we only have to be here until early May 2016. So what happens after that?
We have to consider my husband's job. His job is so much better here. The people are better. The setting is better. The location is better. There are some things that make me question if it's all better. I'm sure there are things that make him question, but I'm only speaking for me.
He travels almost zero! This is good and bad. He does enjoy traveling some. It breaks up the monotony of his job. He doesn't have an office. I know how my husband works. After having an actual office for over 15 years, communal workspace was like a step back. He also is far more productive with less distractions.
Probably the most frustrating part of this for me, is financial. He's not had a raise in nearly three years. We assumed a lot of financial responsibility to move out here so he could keep his job. He had to quit an additional job that supplemented our income. We were told his pay would be evaluated last year and it was not. He's not an aggressive person, so he won't ask for it. But rightfully, they should have done as promised. (It's in writing!)
So those things all weigh in our decision and probably the most heavily.
Probably the second most important thing is to consider what God has done and what He is still doing here.
Our hearts have changed since being here. Our relationship has evolved. We have become better with communication and how we treat each other. Relationships outside the home have been slow and difficult. We've had to learn how to live in harmony with each other. It's not perfect, but it's better.
I won't belabor the point, but a downside is relationships. We both understand that only a commitment to staying will allow any improvement in this area. In order to invest in people and vice versa, there can't be an expectation of leaving soon.
Our lives look so much different here. In KC, we were never home. We never ate at home. When we did, it was in front of a TV. Eating out, we were both glued to our phones. We are more homebodies here. We will go to one of the bigger cities on Saturdays about every other week. We don't go out to eat often. I will go in and have lunch out with my husband once a week and maybe once or twice on the weekend. We eat at home in the evenings in the dining room and we pray together prior to eating.
Things are different and similar here for me. I still don't drive that much. I usually drive once to twice a week. I will either go to the church or in town for lunch and then to buy groceries on Friday mornings. I don't leave the house much more than that.
Without going into much detail, I'll say things are so much different for me mentally and emotionally. There's safety for me and a peace that you could only understand if you've walked through any of the past eight years with me. I'm more "normal" than anyone ever thought possible.
Those things definitely make us consider staying a healthy distance from Kansas.
While it's not a reason to stay or go, we love our church here. It's not always been easy or painless, but we know God put us on this church to grow. The teaching, preaching and people have driven us closer to each other and God. It has never felt like a short term place for us. It's never been a "for right now" place.
There are some jobs in KC that my husband would to apply for soon in order to move back in a year. We'd have to consider putting the house on the market next spring. So, we have to pray through all of this in the coming weeks and months. Do we stay? Do we go? If we go, where do we go?
I know where my heart is leaning and where I feel God leading. Now, I have to pray and allow God to bring us both to His conclusion.
Contractually, we only have to be here until early May 2016. So what happens after that?
We have to consider my husband's job. His job is so much better here. The people are better. The setting is better. The location is better. There are some things that make me question if it's all better. I'm sure there are things that make him question, but I'm only speaking for me.
He travels almost zero! This is good and bad. He does enjoy traveling some. It breaks up the monotony of his job. He doesn't have an office. I know how my husband works. After having an actual office for over 15 years, communal workspace was like a step back. He also is far more productive with less distractions.
Probably the most frustrating part of this for me, is financial. He's not had a raise in nearly three years. We assumed a lot of financial responsibility to move out here so he could keep his job. He had to quit an additional job that supplemented our income. We were told his pay would be evaluated last year and it was not. He's not an aggressive person, so he won't ask for it. But rightfully, they should have done as promised. (It's in writing!)
So those things all weigh in our decision and probably the most heavily.
Probably the second most important thing is to consider what God has done and what He is still doing here.
Our hearts have changed since being here. Our relationship has evolved. We have become better with communication and how we treat each other. Relationships outside the home have been slow and difficult. We've had to learn how to live in harmony with each other. It's not perfect, but it's better.
I won't belabor the point, but a downside is relationships. We both understand that only a commitment to staying will allow any improvement in this area. In order to invest in people and vice versa, there can't be an expectation of leaving soon.
Our lives look so much different here. In KC, we were never home. We never ate at home. When we did, it was in front of a TV. Eating out, we were both glued to our phones. We are more homebodies here. We will go to one of the bigger cities on Saturdays about every other week. We don't go out to eat often. I will go in and have lunch out with my husband once a week and maybe once or twice on the weekend. We eat at home in the evenings in the dining room and we pray together prior to eating.
Things are different and similar here for me. I still don't drive that much. I usually drive once to twice a week. I will either go to the church or in town for lunch and then to buy groceries on Friday mornings. I don't leave the house much more than that.
Without going into much detail, I'll say things are so much different for me mentally and emotionally. There's safety for me and a peace that you could only understand if you've walked through any of the past eight years with me. I'm more "normal" than anyone ever thought possible.
Those things definitely make us consider staying a healthy distance from Kansas.
While it's not a reason to stay or go, we love our church here. It's not always been easy or painless, but we know God put us on this church to grow. The teaching, preaching and people have driven us closer to each other and God. It has never felt like a short term place for us. It's never been a "for right now" place.
There are some jobs in KC that my husband would to apply for soon in order to move back in a year. We'd have to consider putting the house on the market next spring. So, we have to pray through all of this in the coming weeks and months. Do we stay? Do we go? If we go, where do we go?
I know where my heart is leaning and where I feel God leading. Now, I have to pray and allow God to bring us both to His conclusion.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Idolizing Deception
Once again, I find myself in this place where every part of me wants to fight against some of my ultra conservative, narrow-minded friends. Keep in mind, I say that knowing that I am not perfect. It is my background, what I know about God, the truth I've seen in scripture and what I know of the law that places me at odds with them.
Unless you've had your head in the sand, I'm sure you've heard the recent story about molestation inside the Duggar family. I will admit, I don't watch the show. When their show first came onto TLC, I read an article that turned me off. They have 19 kids. They admittedly said that the older children were paired with younger children to keep track of them and care for them. This is probably my own judgmental attitude coming out, but I consider it irresponsible to have so many children that you can do those things yourself. There is a problem when children are raising their parent's children.
Here is my other problem with this family. So many of my friends have made them role models and idols. For that matter, the entire country has. When you idolize a person(s), they are bound to fall and disappoint. Not to mention, the bible is very clear about idols. It angered me when the entire country seemed to mourn the wife's miscarriage. She has 19 children. Why are we mourning the loss of the 20th more than we mourn the loss of any other baby? Why, as a country, are we not offering more support to the mother who's lost her 1st, 2nd, 15th? It is the epitome of how we idolize people, celebrities and reality stars.
This is what I know of this recent scandal.
1. The young man molested multiple young girls, including at least one sister.
2. He was underaged at the time of the victimization.
3. His parents knew and chose to file a police report only after the statute of limitations had run out.
4. He was shown on camera talking about dating one of his sisters.
Many of my friends have spoken out in support of this family. The young man has repented and of course, is forgiven, as it should be. They believe the show should go on as if this never happened, just a blip. They truly believe that since he was underaged at the time, it was right for him to not be punished legally and that it is "just something kids do" when they are experimenting with their sexuality at young ages. They are angry that so much attention has been brought to this, thinking it is something that should have been handled and been able to be kept private within the family.
Keep in mind, this doesn't apply to all my friends. I'm very specifically speaking about ones who have been vocal on social media.
I'm going to lay it out there, what I think lined up with scripture and what makes me cringe about the ignorance of my friends.
Let's start with scripture. Matthew 18:6 and Luke 17:2 both quote Jesus. He says, "It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were cast into the sea than that he should cause one of these little ones to sin." Depending on the version, it may say stumble.
Do you know what a millstone is? It is huge. This is some of the strongest language that Jesus uses. He's saying you'd be better off being thrown to your death than hurting or causing God's children to sin. He's placing a price on the protection of the children of God. We are all God's children and should certainly take that seriously.
Is there forgiveness for someone who does hurt another? Absolutely! Maybe not to this degree, but we all hurt others from time to time. I know I hurt my husband daily. He forgives and so does God, when I ask and sometimes even when I don't. A thousand times, over and over, I am forgiven. This isn't about not forgiving sin. The bible calls us to forgiveness.
This is about the deception and long-term problems.
In the middle of the long list of abusers from my past, you will find a cousin. He is about 10 months younger than me. He molested me for well over 10 years.
Children molesting children isn't just something kids do when they are learning about their sexuality. That was something my husband thought too. He said sometimes kids just touch each other. He looked at it as those semi-innocent touches on the playground or kids showing each other their private parts. He believed it was an exploration. I'm not saying those things are right, but there is a difference. Those things are about exploring sexuality. Nobody wants to see those things happen either, but they are so much different.
When I say children molesting children, I mean once or more of inappropriate contact that is sexually motivated and more of a deviant behavior. It's unwanted by the other party. It involves touching and more adult-like activity. The aggressor does not have to be older, but they are definitely more aggressive.
Here is something I learned from my own experience. What my cousin did, wasn't from natural curiosity. After stepping into the process of forgiving him, I quickly understood that he was acting out based on the abuse he had suffered. He learned the behavior somewhere.
That is something the parent of every child who has been caught or accused of molesting should consider. Where did the behavior come from? Especially when the behavior comes from within a very conservative family who shelters their children, one has to question where this behavior was learned. It is possible this young man needs counsel for more than what he has done.
This is more opinion than fact, but someone needs to be punished in this case. Molestation isn't an issue to be dealt with strictly inside a family. Children have been hurt. Let me be 100% clear. The parents are absolutely wrong to have waited until the statute of limitations ran out before reporting. that is deceptive and flat out wrong. They basically said, hey our kid is a child molester and you can't do anything about it. They knew long before then and made a conscious choice to not report.
TLC should cancel their show. Not only that, but whatever political position the dad has should be resigned. A man who ignores the laws set in place to protect children shouldn't have a part in running any level of government.
The young man has resigned from his job. But, how does anyone know that he has been rehabilitated? This is why we have the sexual predator registry. Go look at them. There are 1000s who are on because of things they did as underaged children. I don't necessarily agree that they should remain on them, but the laws are changing for those reasons. Children can be rehabilitated. However, this family made that determination themselves by hiding truth.
It's very obvious that this family is full of secrets and secrets make us sick. They are not a family to be idolized. They are not a family that needs to be put out to the nation for viewing pleasure. Honestly, that probably covers a lot of reality tv. If we, as a nation, could view those shows as entertainment and not reality, it would be different. But most cannot do that.
Frankly, I don't want a known sex offender on my tv. I don't want to see rapists nor people who commit violence against others on tv. It's a sick world. I don't need to see it on tv and neither do others. I don't want my nieces and nephews to think it's ok have child molesters on tv or in their lives.
I try my best to not argue with my fellow believers over social issues, I really do. However, I'm not afraid to take on this subject and say that if you support the Duggar family and keeping their show on tv, you are wrong. There are bigger problems here that do need to be dealt with legally and privately.
Unless you've had your head in the sand, I'm sure you've heard the recent story about molestation inside the Duggar family. I will admit, I don't watch the show. When their show first came onto TLC, I read an article that turned me off. They have 19 kids. They admittedly said that the older children were paired with younger children to keep track of them and care for them. This is probably my own judgmental attitude coming out, but I consider it irresponsible to have so many children that you can do those things yourself. There is a problem when children are raising their parent's children.
Here is my other problem with this family. So many of my friends have made them role models and idols. For that matter, the entire country has. When you idolize a person(s), they are bound to fall and disappoint. Not to mention, the bible is very clear about idols. It angered me when the entire country seemed to mourn the wife's miscarriage. She has 19 children. Why are we mourning the loss of the 20th more than we mourn the loss of any other baby? Why, as a country, are we not offering more support to the mother who's lost her 1st, 2nd, 15th? It is the epitome of how we idolize people, celebrities and reality stars.
This is what I know of this recent scandal.
1. The young man molested multiple young girls, including at least one sister.
2. He was underaged at the time of the victimization.
3. His parents knew and chose to file a police report only after the statute of limitations had run out.
4. He was shown on camera talking about dating one of his sisters.
Many of my friends have spoken out in support of this family. The young man has repented and of course, is forgiven, as it should be. They believe the show should go on as if this never happened, just a blip. They truly believe that since he was underaged at the time, it was right for him to not be punished legally and that it is "just something kids do" when they are experimenting with their sexuality at young ages. They are angry that so much attention has been brought to this, thinking it is something that should have been handled and been able to be kept private within the family.
Keep in mind, this doesn't apply to all my friends. I'm very specifically speaking about ones who have been vocal on social media.
I'm going to lay it out there, what I think lined up with scripture and what makes me cringe about the ignorance of my friends.
Let's start with scripture. Matthew 18:6 and Luke 17:2 both quote Jesus. He says, "It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were cast into the sea than that he should cause one of these little ones to sin." Depending on the version, it may say stumble.
Do you know what a millstone is? It is huge. This is some of the strongest language that Jesus uses. He's saying you'd be better off being thrown to your death than hurting or causing God's children to sin. He's placing a price on the protection of the children of God. We are all God's children and should certainly take that seriously.
Is there forgiveness for someone who does hurt another? Absolutely! Maybe not to this degree, but we all hurt others from time to time. I know I hurt my husband daily. He forgives and so does God, when I ask and sometimes even when I don't. A thousand times, over and over, I am forgiven. This isn't about not forgiving sin. The bible calls us to forgiveness.
This is about the deception and long-term problems.
In the middle of the long list of abusers from my past, you will find a cousin. He is about 10 months younger than me. He molested me for well over 10 years.
Children molesting children isn't just something kids do when they are learning about their sexuality. That was something my husband thought too. He said sometimes kids just touch each other. He looked at it as those semi-innocent touches on the playground or kids showing each other their private parts. He believed it was an exploration. I'm not saying those things are right, but there is a difference. Those things are about exploring sexuality. Nobody wants to see those things happen either, but they are so much different.
When I say children molesting children, I mean once or more of inappropriate contact that is sexually motivated and more of a deviant behavior. It's unwanted by the other party. It involves touching and more adult-like activity. The aggressor does not have to be older, but they are definitely more aggressive.
Here is something I learned from my own experience. What my cousin did, wasn't from natural curiosity. After stepping into the process of forgiving him, I quickly understood that he was acting out based on the abuse he had suffered. He learned the behavior somewhere.
That is something the parent of every child who has been caught or accused of molesting should consider. Where did the behavior come from? Especially when the behavior comes from within a very conservative family who shelters their children, one has to question where this behavior was learned. It is possible this young man needs counsel for more than what he has done.
This is more opinion than fact, but someone needs to be punished in this case. Molestation isn't an issue to be dealt with strictly inside a family. Children have been hurt. Let me be 100% clear. The parents are absolutely wrong to have waited until the statute of limitations ran out before reporting. that is deceptive and flat out wrong. They basically said, hey our kid is a child molester and you can't do anything about it. They knew long before then and made a conscious choice to not report.
TLC should cancel their show. Not only that, but whatever political position the dad has should be resigned. A man who ignores the laws set in place to protect children shouldn't have a part in running any level of government.
The young man has resigned from his job. But, how does anyone know that he has been rehabilitated? This is why we have the sexual predator registry. Go look at them. There are 1000s who are on because of things they did as underaged children. I don't necessarily agree that they should remain on them, but the laws are changing for those reasons. Children can be rehabilitated. However, this family made that determination themselves by hiding truth.
It's very obvious that this family is full of secrets and secrets make us sick. They are not a family to be idolized. They are not a family that needs to be put out to the nation for viewing pleasure. Honestly, that probably covers a lot of reality tv. If we, as a nation, could view those shows as entertainment and not reality, it would be different. But most cannot do that.
Frankly, I don't want a known sex offender on my tv. I don't want to see rapists nor people who commit violence against others on tv. It's a sick world. I don't need to see it on tv and neither do others. I don't want my nieces and nephews to think it's ok have child molesters on tv or in their lives.
I try my best to not argue with my fellow believers over social issues, I really do. However, I'm not afraid to take on this subject and say that if you support the Duggar family and keeping their show on tv, you are wrong. There are bigger problems here that do need to be dealt with legally and privately.
Sunday, May 24, 2015
Start of Summer
As I mentioned before, it's been a rough week and the weekend hasn't been much better. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. It is what it is.
We've finally acknowledged a pattern for my husband. It took three years, but we are beginning to understand his spiral after visiting his parents. Each time he sees them, he goes through weeks of depression. He's up and down about whether he wants to be with them more or not. This goes back prior to his moms diagnosis, but is more prevalent now. Each time he is around them, he goes through a grieving process all over again.
That's the really crappy part of Alzheimer's. The person is there but they aren't. Each time we are with his parents, he goes through that deep emotional loss with this difficult to understand element of her still being alive. Since we aren't as close as all his siblings, his dad's decline is much more noticeable to us. Now he's beginning to grieve both of his parents and it's hard.
Going back always puts us in this limbo of wondering where we belong. I'm going to say this knowing anyone could prove me wrong, but believing perception is everything. We feel very much forgotten by friends and family back home. It is rare for anyone to make contact with us unless we initiate. We feel incredibly alone here as neither of us have been successful at relationships here. Not that they don't exist, but we definitely feel like outsiders and a deep sense of loneliness.
I think that's why this weekend is rough. Last year, we were still getting settled and the holiday weekend blew past us. This year, things are slower and that loneliness has settled deep in both of us. We were never at home this weekend in years past. We'd go spend time with friends or at the lake with the in laws. Other years, we'd go to Branson.
This year, we have nothing. We see families gathering across the street. The neighbors next door having a bonfire. Our fb feed is filled with families and friends spending time together. How can we not feel lonely?
We've discussed it a lot. We don't feel like we belong in either place.
Over the next few months, we will be discussing and praying through what next May will look like. We only have to be here until next May.
There are things we love about living here. Neither of us feel compelled to run back to KC. Do we stay? Do we go back to KC? Do we start over some place new? I don't know. I do know that I'll never feel content without roots.
I can only hope the rest of our summer is better than this, better than last year.
Saturday, May 23, 2015
She's a Killer
We have an eight year old Cockapoo, who kind of lives in her own world. She isn't super aggressive and is afraid of almost everything and everybody. Up until now, she was a very overweight dog. We didn't know she had a thyroid problem until a year ago. Since we started treating her, she has lost over 10 lbs.
She's been with us since she was a puppy. She was a fuzzy little black ball when we brought her home from the puppy mill at all of 2 lbs at 10 weeks. She was our first little dog. We brought her home to a 75 lb black lab and orange cat we called Kitty.
As Lucy has grown up, she has gotten very OCD. She has really only gotten aggressive with food. Our rolly polly little dog couldn't jump on the bed, but could crawl up on the table and jump two feet to the kitchen cabinet to get tomatoes, strawberries, grapes, potatoes, cucumbers, etc. She definitely leans toward being a vegetarian.
About three years ago, her shenanigans cost us dearly after she tore her ACL and had to have it rebuilt. Besides that, she's been fairly healthy except for a bought with ear infections.
Something she's always done is chase smaller animals like birds, mice, squirrels, and bunnies. Sure, she's caused some casualties. It's always happened outside and never with a lot of aggression. She never growled or showed her teeth. She never tore anything apart. Mostly, she'd bite, the creature would bleed through the mouth and nose and then die. Not a huge deal, those things are usually annoyances.
When we arrived at my in laws last week, the first thing I did was let all the dogs into the backyard. I saw a group of kittens and a couple grown cats. I didn't think anything about it. She has been around small kittens and of course small dogs. Remi was a tiny guy and she has never been aggressive with him.
She immediately attacked the group of kittens. All but one got away. By the time I got to them, it was too late. The cute little kitten was bouncing around, spewing blood everywhere. The mama cat tried to move them, but she found them again. Later that night, she killed another. Again, if you didn't know what happened, you'd think they died naturally. There wasn't even a bite mark on them.
I'm a bit puzzled and concerned with her behavior. Honestly, I was horrified for two reasons.
I love all my dogs, but I don't know what to think of one who will kill a kitten. I suppose it is a natural progression in the circle of life, but I don't want her to turn on the other dogs or even a neighbor's pet. I don't think she would, but now I feel like we have to be super careful with her around anything that might be helpless.
The other reason it horrified me was that it, in an instant, sent me straight into a PTSD meltdown and flashback.
My dad used to kill animals and make us watch. It was terrifying. He used this to torture us and make us believe he was capable of killing us. It was every bit as horrific as you could possibly imagine and probably more.
The blood flying around as the first kitten died was more than I could process. It sent me back to a replay reel of so many memories. It was hard to function the rest of the evening and I had awful nightmares each time I closed my eyes.
It's kind of crazy how things can be going well and something kicks me in the butt like that.
I'm not sure what to do about the dog. It makes me glad that we chose now to get a puppy and not wait until she is older and grouchier. I'm also glad our puppy is growing fast and lets us know if the other dogs aren't playing nice.
I've had dogs for the last 21 years. Most of the time, their personalities are easy to read and adapt. Sometimes, like with this, I'm kind of at a loss. The only theory I have is that the cocker spaniel in her is a natural hunter and things in the yard are fair game. That's all I got!
She's been with us since she was a puppy. She was a fuzzy little black ball when we brought her home from the puppy mill at all of 2 lbs at 10 weeks. She was our first little dog. We brought her home to a 75 lb black lab and orange cat we called Kitty.
As Lucy has grown up, she has gotten very OCD. She has really only gotten aggressive with food. Our rolly polly little dog couldn't jump on the bed, but could crawl up on the table and jump two feet to the kitchen cabinet to get tomatoes, strawberries, grapes, potatoes, cucumbers, etc. She definitely leans toward being a vegetarian.
About three years ago, her shenanigans cost us dearly after she tore her ACL and had to have it rebuilt. Besides that, she's been fairly healthy except for a bought with ear infections.
Something she's always done is chase smaller animals like birds, mice, squirrels, and bunnies. Sure, she's caused some casualties. It's always happened outside and never with a lot of aggression. She never growled or showed her teeth. She never tore anything apart. Mostly, she'd bite, the creature would bleed through the mouth and nose and then die. Not a huge deal, those things are usually annoyances.
When we arrived at my in laws last week, the first thing I did was let all the dogs into the backyard. I saw a group of kittens and a couple grown cats. I didn't think anything about it. She has been around small kittens and of course small dogs. Remi was a tiny guy and she has never been aggressive with him.
She immediately attacked the group of kittens. All but one got away. By the time I got to them, it was too late. The cute little kitten was bouncing around, spewing blood everywhere. The mama cat tried to move them, but she found them again. Later that night, she killed another. Again, if you didn't know what happened, you'd think they died naturally. There wasn't even a bite mark on them.
I'm a bit puzzled and concerned with her behavior. Honestly, I was horrified for two reasons.
I love all my dogs, but I don't know what to think of one who will kill a kitten. I suppose it is a natural progression in the circle of life, but I don't want her to turn on the other dogs or even a neighbor's pet. I don't think she would, but now I feel like we have to be super careful with her around anything that might be helpless.
The other reason it horrified me was that it, in an instant, sent me straight into a PTSD meltdown and flashback.
My dad used to kill animals and make us watch. It was terrifying. He used this to torture us and make us believe he was capable of killing us. It was every bit as horrific as you could possibly imagine and probably more.
The blood flying around as the first kitten died was more than I could process. It sent me back to a replay reel of so many memories. It was hard to function the rest of the evening and I had awful nightmares each time I closed my eyes.
It's kind of crazy how things can be going well and something kicks me in the butt like that.
I'm not sure what to do about the dog. It makes me glad that we chose now to get a puppy and not wait until she is older and grouchier. I'm also glad our puppy is growing fast and lets us know if the other dogs aren't playing nice.
I've had dogs for the last 21 years. Most of the time, their personalities are easy to read and adapt. Sometimes, like with this, I'm kind of at a loss. The only theory I have is that the cocker spaniel in her is a natural hunter and things in the yard are fair game. That's all I got!
Friday, May 22, 2015
What to do?
This week has been tough, but for no specific reason. For nearly five full months, my life revolved around classes. The precious few days I had off during that time were spent traveling, cleaning and catching up on things I'd let go. After the end of the semester, I had a few days off before we spent seven days on two whirlwind trips.
We've both been exhausted. There have been nights when we've been in bed by 9 pm. It's not because we are old! We traveled a long ways and back on very little sleep over five days. Those five days were physically and emotionally taxing. We came home and felt like we needed a vacation. We are both thankful for this holiday weekend.
The puppy has done a good job keeping me awake part of each night by a new habit this week. About 1 am, he's decided that he needs to snuggle really close to my head. By that I mean all or at least some part of his body is on my pillow. I don't mind. He's a 7 lb fur ball. But it takes getting used to a little head next to mine or a warm furry tickle on my nose.
Last night, I spent a good portion of the night awake with him. He was neutered yesterday and was miserable. He laid belly up and moved a lot. He whined and whimpered. My husband slept through it all, while I spent hours snuggling and saying, "It'll be better tomorrow little buddy."
I don't think exhaustion is my only problem. I kind of don't know what to do. I don't have a new routine. Last year, I was sick from May through November. My husband was off half of December and I started school in January. This is the first time since moving here that I have large quantities of time and feel good.
There are things to do, things I want to do. I definitely want to find ways to serve in the community and church. I want to spend time on the deck reading. I want to start and continue a few crafts. I want to get out of the rut where we have the same seven meals each week.
It's crazy to admit, but I feel like for the first time in over seven years, my life is this one platform that I want to use in good ways. Last year I got bored a lot. That was because I was stuck at home, sick most of the time and with no energy. Before that, it was selling the house. Before that, it was a different time in life when I was fairly immobile and fought against my routine. This is so different.
I've been praying for direction and am trying to keep myself open for whatever lies ahead. Of course, I'll have a class starting in July, but only one.
Maybe it's this place in my life or maybe it's so many things pointing me in this direction, but I get up each day not wishing it away and knowing it's the first day of the rest of my life. Some days are filled with naps and laundry, while others with grocery shopping and gardening. I hope I can continue to embrace the plans for my life, even when they are simple or feel mundane.
We've both been exhausted. There have been nights when we've been in bed by 9 pm. It's not because we are old! We traveled a long ways and back on very little sleep over five days. Those five days were physically and emotionally taxing. We came home and felt like we needed a vacation. We are both thankful for this holiday weekend.
The puppy has done a good job keeping me awake part of each night by a new habit this week. About 1 am, he's decided that he needs to snuggle really close to my head. By that I mean all or at least some part of his body is on my pillow. I don't mind. He's a 7 lb fur ball. But it takes getting used to a little head next to mine or a warm furry tickle on my nose.
Last night, I spent a good portion of the night awake with him. He was neutered yesterday and was miserable. He laid belly up and moved a lot. He whined and whimpered. My husband slept through it all, while I spent hours snuggling and saying, "It'll be better tomorrow little buddy."
I don't think exhaustion is my only problem. I kind of don't know what to do. I don't have a new routine. Last year, I was sick from May through November. My husband was off half of December and I started school in January. This is the first time since moving here that I have large quantities of time and feel good.
There are things to do, things I want to do. I definitely want to find ways to serve in the community and church. I want to spend time on the deck reading. I want to start and continue a few crafts. I want to get out of the rut where we have the same seven meals each week.
It's crazy to admit, but I feel like for the first time in over seven years, my life is this one platform that I want to use in good ways. Last year I got bored a lot. That was because I was stuck at home, sick most of the time and with no energy. Before that, it was selling the house. Before that, it was a different time in life when I was fairly immobile and fought against my routine. This is so different.
I've been praying for direction and am trying to keep myself open for whatever lies ahead. Of course, I'll have a class starting in July, but only one.
Maybe it's this place in my life or maybe it's so many things pointing me in this direction, but I get up each day not wishing it away and knowing it's the first day of the rest of my life. Some days are filled with naps and laundry, while others with grocery shopping and gardening. I hope I can continue to embrace the plans for my life, even when they are simple or feel mundane.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Locusts
Many sounds tell us summer has arrived. In the evenings, when life has slowed down, we can hear the croaking of frogs, buzzing of bees, birds chirping and the low hum of locusts.
It is God's promise that He will restore what has been taken and destroyed.
This verse was first shared with and explained to me sitting in my psychologist's office. He and my counselor wanted me to understand early on that God, and only God, can and will restore what was taken and destroyed. A difficult concept for me to wrap my head around six years ago.
Through those years, it has been a verse I have gone to and been reminded of often. Up until recently, I am not certain I fully believed or understood the depth of this promise.
Have you ever considered the damage locusts can do?
A handful of them to even a few hundred really do nothing we notice. However, we are fortunate. They don't really swarm our areas like they do in some middle eastern countries.
Egypt has a huge problem with them. Despite spraying pesticides, they have a problem every few years with the locusts swarming their country.
They come in and wreak havoc on crops. One swarm of locusts can eat as many as 2,500 people in a single day. Once they consume most of the vegetation, they migrate to the next fertile area. They will repeat until there is nothing left for them and then, they will go dormant.
While they aren't directly harmful to humans, their devastation is. With their main food sources wiped out, prices sky rocket. The farmers gain nothing for their hard work and investment. The economy in all surrounding areas suffer and families struggle.
The next year, everyone starts over and life begins again. The crops flourish and the economy begins to recover.
God restores what has been taken and destroyed.
The verse doesn't just apply to locust or the people of Egypt, Australia or Mali.
I also don't necessarily think that complete restoration always happens on this side of heaven.
The reason this verse was so important for my psychologist and counselor to convey is because they needed me to hold onto God's promise.
I may have been a fairly privileged, married adult, but I was/am a broken young lady whose had a lot taken from her. Deep inside me, resides the little girl who was abused and neglected. The little girl had her life destroyed. She had everything valuable taken from her physically and emotionally.
It was as important for me to embrace that hurt little girl as it was for me to understand restoration was a part of healing.
These days, I have a much better understanding. I'm not saying life is perfect. I'm not saying that there isn't any hurting left in me. But, I can see a trend of God's restoration in my life.
He has begun to restore my heart, my ability to trust and love. He has replaced times of great fear with times of great joy. He has allowed me a marriage that has fulfilled me in ways I missed early on in life, especially a bond with someone who loves me. He has moved me far away from the hurt and pain.
There are so many ways that He has brought restoration to my life. I won't say it is complete. I think there is a lot left. It's a process and one that cannot be rushed.
I sit here incredibly thankful for God's promises and all He has done in my life. I could never attribute it to anyone or anything besides God.
I have been stuck on the verses from Joel 2:25-26 lately.
I will restore to you the years
that the swarming locust has eaten,
the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter,
my great army, which I sent among you.
“You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied,
and praise the name of the Lord your God,
who has dealt wondrously with you.
And my people shall never again be put to shame.
This verse was first shared with and explained to me sitting in my psychologist's office. He and my counselor wanted me to understand early on that God, and only God, can and will restore what was taken and destroyed. A difficult concept for me to wrap my head around six years ago.
Through those years, it has been a verse I have gone to and been reminded of often. Up until recently, I am not certain I fully believed or understood the depth of this promise.
Have you ever considered the damage locusts can do?
A handful of them to even a few hundred really do nothing we notice. However, we are fortunate. They don't really swarm our areas like they do in some middle eastern countries.
Egypt has a huge problem with them. Despite spraying pesticides, they have a problem every few years with the locusts swarming their country.
They come in and wreak havoc on crops. One swarm of locusts can eat as many as 2,500 people in a single day. Once they consume most of the vegetation, they migrate to the next fertile area. They will repeat until there is nothing left for them and then, they will go dormant.
While they aren't directly harmful to humans, their devastation is. With their main food sources wiped out, prices sky rocket. The farmers gain nothing for their hard work and investment. The economy in all surrounding areas suffer and families struggle.
The next year, everyone starts over and life begins again. The crops flourish and the economy begins to recover.
God restores what has been taken and destroyed.
The verse doesn't just apply to locust or the people of Egypt, Australia or Mali.
I also don't necessarily think that complete restoration always happens on this side of heaven.
The reason this verse was so important for my psychologist and counselor to convey is because they needed me to hold onto God's promise.
I may have been a fairly privileged, married adult, but I was/am a broken young lady whose had a lot taken from her. Deep inside me, resides the little girl who was abused and neglected. The little girl had her life destroyed. She had everything valuable taken from her physically and emotionally.
It was as important for me to embrace that hurt little girl as it was for me to understand restoration was a part of healing.
These days, I have a much better understanding. I'm not saying life is perfect. I'm not saying that there isn't any hurting left in me. But, I can see a trend of God's restoration in my life.
He has begun to restore my heart, my ability to trust and love. He has replaced times of great fear with times of great joy. He has allowed me a marriage that has fulfilled me in ways I missed early on in life, especially a bond with someone who loves me. He has moved me far away from the hurt and pain.
There are so many ways that He has brought restoration to my life. I won't say it is complete. I think there is a lot left. It's a process and one that cannot be rushed.
I sit here incredibly thankful for God's promises and all He has done in my life. I could never attribute it to anyone or anything besides God.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
The Stay
Unfortunately, the funeral wasn't the hardest thing we had to do last week. We stayed three nights with my husband's parents.
Let me start with the minor irritations of this visit. It's so uncomfortable there physically. They keep their house very hot. The heater was running on a 79 degree day. My hair was a disaster the entire time because I was sweating constantly.
The bed we have to sleep in is a full size. We normally sleep in a king. Two fat people and a minimum of two dogs in a full size bed is just insanity. We sweat and flop around trying to get comfy. I think we were both lucky to get 3 hours of sleep each night. We ran two fans and kept the window open. Not much help since the house is a few blocks from a dairy farm and hospital. Stink and sirens all night. Sirens meant dogs howling and barking. Ugh!
There's no internet service. Seriously! Our phones won't work inside the house. I imagine with the heat and smell, this is a taste of hell.
The place has recently had a lot of remodeling. That hasn't cut down the amount of body odor and cat litter box smells. Have I mentioned that I'm rarely bothered by a weak stomach. The only time I am is when I'm hot and there are disgusting smells.
Ok, so those are the petty things. I'm a bit spoiled by my surroundings.
The time with his parents was equally, if not more, miserable.
His mom is as she has been for more than a year. She has no clue who, what, when, where or why. She's declining physically as she shuffles her feet to walk. She sleeps a lot. She often wants to be taken back to her parents, who are deceased.
I have a growing compassion for her. It'd be easy to be mean to her given how she always treated me, but I'm not that way. I went through a time of living through confusion and it's hard. I have a bit of a soft spot for her. Aside from that, I have a great love and respect for her as she raised the outstanding man I married.
Keep in mind, I have the same love and respect for my husband's dad. But that's as far as it goes these days. I find myself getting more and more frustrated and angry with him.
Despite living with her everyday, he is the least accepting and understanding of her diagnosis. He also has no ability to control his anger and frustration.
I bit my tongue a lot. He treats everyone with great disrespect. Nobody knows how to do anything and he won't listen to anything.
He's so hateful in how he talks to her especially. Last week, he kept harping on her to read her watch. She doesn't know who she is, how do you expect her to read a watch. Let me tell you something, she may not know anything, but she still has emotions. After two days of harping on her, I heard her voice coming from the front room Thursday evening.
She was yelling. 9:11 9:11 9:11 9:11 9:12 9:12 9:12 9:13 9:13
Her husband started complaining that she was talking to the damn cat. I peaked in the room. The cat wasn't there. She was watching the digital clock on the DVD player and her watch, reading the time over and over. She was trying to teach herself to tell time again. It was like a child trying to learn something and avoid punishment.
We saw so much of that. It was all hard.
When we went to dinner, he made her leave her purse at home. Her purse is a security for her. When you take security away, she gets very out of sorts. Let's just say it led to a lot of yelling.
He doesn't know how to pick his battles. He also forgets that she's his wife. I've not forgotten. She's my husband's mother and I wanted to crawl down his throat to remind him of that. How dare he treat my husband's mom like that.
But the way he treats people isn't exclusive to her. He was disrespectful to us too. We fixed lunch for them and left it in the fridge for Friday. It's going to waste cause he's too lazy to heat it up. I tried again to take to him about cutting down sugar for himself and her. I pretty much got told to mind my own business. I begged him to stop giving her pills with juice or milk. Multiple drugs she is on lose effectiveness or cause upset stomach when taken with anything besides water and food. Again, I was told he had it under control.
There's so many examples.
He's getting a bit of dementia himself. He repeats himself constantly.
It's a terrible time. He refuses help and isn't helpful himself. His selfishness and pride is keeping both of them to have any quality of life during their remaining years. I hate that for them. I hate that my mother in laws decline has happened and he hasn't chosen to do all he can for her. He thinks what he does is enough and it's not.
That stay made me all the more content to live over 700 miles away from them. We can't do anything about it and likewise cannot live in the midst of it all.
Let me start with the minor irritations of this visit. It's so uncomfortable there physically. They keep their house very hot. The heater was running on a 79 degree day. My hair was a disaster the entire time because I was sweating constantly.
The bed we have to sleep in is a full size. We normally sleep in a king. Two fat people and a minimum of two dogs in a full size bed is just insanity. We sweat and flop around trying to get comfy. I think we were both lucky to get 3 hours of sleep each night. We ran two fans and kept the window open. Not much help since the house is a few blocks from a dairy farm and hospital. Stink and sirens all night. Sirens meant dogs howling and barking. Ugh!
There's no internet service. Seriously! Our phones won't work inside the house. I imagine with the heat and smell, this is a taste of hell.
The place has recently had a lot of remodeling. That hasn't cut down the amount of body odor and cat litter box smells. Have I mentioned that I'm rarely bothered by a weak stomach. The only time I am is when I'm hot and there are disgusting smells.
Ok, so those are the petty things. I'm a bit spoiled by my surroundings.
The time with his parents was equally, if not more, miserable.
His mom is as she has been for more than a year. She has no clue who, what, when, where or why. She's declining physically as she shuffles her feet to walk. She sleeps a lot. She often wants to be taken back to her parents, who are deceased.
I have a growing compassion for her. It'd be easy to be mean to her given how she always treated me, but I'm not that way. I went through a time of living through confusion and it's hard. I have a bit of a soft spot for her. Aside from that, I have a great love and respect for her as she raised the outstanding man I married.
Keep in mind, I have the same love and respect for my husband's dad. But that's as far as it goes these days. I find myself getting more and more frustrated and angry with him.
Despite living with her everyday, he is the least accepting and understanding of her diagnosis. He also has no ability to control his anger and frustration.
I bit my tongue a lot. He treats everyone with great disrespect. Nobody knows how to do anything and he won't listen to anything.
He's so hateful in how he talks to her especially. Last week, he kept harping on her to read her watch. She doesn't know who she is, how do you expect her to read a watch. Let me tell you something, she may not know anything, but she still has emotions. After two days of harping on her, I heard her voice coming from the front room Thursday evening.
She was yelling. 9:11 9:11 9:11 9:11 9:12 9:12 9:12 9:13 9:13
Her husband started complaining that she was talking to the damn cat. I peaked in the room. The cat wasn't there. She was watching the digital clock on the DVD player and her watch, reading the time over and over. She was trying to teach herself to tell time again. It was like a child trying to learn something and avoid punishment.
We saw so much of that. It was all hard.
When we went to dinner, he made her leave her purse at home. Her purse is a security for her. When you take security away, she gets very out of sorts. Let's just say it led to a lot of yelling.
He doesn't know how to pick his battles. He also forgets that she's his wife. I've not forgotten. She's my husband's mother and I wanted to crawl down his throat to remind him of that. How dare he treat my husband's mom like that.
But the way he treats people isn't exclusive to her. He was disrespectful to us too. We fixed lunch for them and left it in the fridge for Friday. It's going to waste cause he's too lazy to heat it up. I tried again to take to him about cutting down sugar for himself and her. I pretty much got told to mind my own business. I begged him to stop giving her pills with juice or milk. Multiple drugs she is on lose effectiveness or cause upset stomach when taken with anything besides water and food. Again, I was told he had it under control.
There's so many examples.
He's getting a bit of dementia himself. He repeats himself constantly.
It's a terrible time. He refuses help and isn't helpful himself. His selfishness and pride is keeping both of them to have any quality of life during their remaining years. I hate that for them. I hate that my mother in laws decline has happened and he hasn't chosen to do all he can for her. He thinks what he does is enough and it's not.
That stay made me all the more content to live over 700 miles away from them. We can't do anything about it and likewise cannot live in the midst of it all.
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