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.

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.

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.

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.

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. 

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The Funeral

Does anyone ever look forward to a funeral? As Christians, we should when the person was a follower of Christ. It's a time to remember to person and celebrate their eternity in heaven. Funerals should be a beautiful climax to our time on earth. 

I'm not sure anyone ever sees it that way. We long to have our loved ones and friends with us till the end of our days. In the moments we are hurting and grieving, our faith tends to naturally come second. It's hard. We aren't ready to let go. 

When I got the call last week, I wasn't prepared. My heart wasn't prepared to accept that my friend was gone. Even though I'd received every update, I struggled to believe my friend had gotten so sick and could possibly be gone. 

As I walked into the sanctuary, I saw the casket. A soft blue casket adorned with pink flowers. Roses, tulips, sunflowers and a host of other flowers filled the pots and vases. It was simple and fresh. 

The service began with a slideshow of her entire life. School, college, wedding, pregnant, babies, showers, they filled the screen. There were several with friends and times as an adult. There were even a few taken at our home. 

I teared up as I watched. A life so full and so short. I found myself caught by her contagious smile and wishing I'd had one last moment with her. That was the person I remembered. I didn't see her at her sickest. The last time I saw her, I got the smile. Not the face affected by a stroke and altered by pain. 

When the family walked in, my heart broke. I could see the numb and lost look in the eyes of the family. The pain I felt for them in that moment wasn't for the grief they felt that day. It was for the pain they would feel in her absence over the days, weeks and years to come. 

Each person who spoke during the service painted a picture with their words. A picture of the beautiful, intelligent, faithful, loyal, humble, loving woman, the kind of picture you can see in your mind and feel in your heart. Each person in that room had been deeply impacted by her and the service reflected who she was. 

We were reminded that no matter how deep and wide our love her is, Gods is even deeper and wider. God loves each of us far more than any love we could ever know on earth. We were reminded that there is comfort in Gods plan. 

When she was diagnosed, everyone began praying for her healing. We must rejoice in Gods faithfulness to us in prayer. He answered those prayers. Not in the way or timing we would have chosen. We could find comfort that day in answered prayers. 

As the service drew to a close, I watched the funeral home attendants approach the casket. I waited with tears for them to roll her out of the church. Much to my surprise, they removed the flowers and opened the casket. One by one, they dismissed the rows to walk past her. 

I hadn't expected it. There she was. It wasn't what I wanted. I felt myself begin to cry. I don't mean tears down the cheeks, but heaving, can't breathe, tears coming so fast I can't see bawling. It was her but not. She was a shade of green or grey. My heart wanted to yell, someone please wake her up. 

Making by, I could barely look. She was to my right, the family to my left. I didn't have the right to cry so hard in front of people who were going to feel her loss daily the rest of their lives. But as I saw the colored page laid at her hands by one of the children, I couldn't hold back my emotion. The walk from the casket to the foyer was a blur. 

Standing in the foyer, I found comfort in the hugs of friends. Lots of unspoken words were shared with tearful hugs. 

At the graveyard, I couldn't bring myself to get near the casket. It was too real, too final. 

As a Christian, I should have been more joyful. My friend is healed. She is healed and in her eternal home. She's in a place where there is no concept of time. She will be reunited with those who love her and believe in God sooner than we can imagine. 

It's hard to assimilate things when they happen so fast. It's going to take some time for this to not feel surreal. 

I do miss her already. She wasn't an everyday part of my life, but I loved her. She was a part of my life and I will miss her for a long time to come. 

Church Return

This past week has been rough. We traveled 7 of 8 days on 2 separate trips. The latter was the longer and more emotional. I didn't have great internet coverage in rural Kansas, so I've got some catching up to do.

My friend who passed never left our first church. She was considering it when she got sick. Her cancer diagnosis changed things. She said she wanted to stay put until she was better and get up to visiting churches. That never happened and I know it was all in Gods master plan for her.

Let me really start there. My friend was a member of the church long before us. The pastor of that church did not perform the service. Even though he's been her pastor for over four years, the family chose someone else.

Yes, I'm certain this surprised a lot of people but those of us who knew the score. There's a lot of dynamics that I won't go into, but let me share what is mine to say.

The pastor of that church is an incredibly intelligent and gifted man of God. He is gifted in preaching and has a great knowledge of theology and scripture. He, admittedly, is not gifted in people skills. I've personally watched him struggle in connecting with the congregation and especially with women. He can even come across as offensive and lacking compassion. It's there, but you have to dig deep. I see a lot of this in this situation.

It's important to point out that pastors and many professionals aren't well balanced in their giftedness, as I've seen. Some are great with people, but stink at leadership. Some stink with people, but run an office with sufficiency. In eye care, I saw that too. You have doctors who are awesome with the finances, but have a less desirable repore with patients and vice versa. It's a rare gem to find one who is an even balance.

All that to say, we had good reasons for leaving that church. We were in disapproval of how the church was being led and the changes, which were being made. We disagreed with policies when they failed to be in line with what leadership had previously taught us.

I don't bring any of that up to point fingers or poke at an old scab. Forgiveness was difficult for me. The leadership showed no compassion when we left and had a "good riddance" attitude toward us. I still believe that was biblically incorrect and is what kept me stuck in bitterness for so long.

Forgiveness didn't come easy. In fact, I'd say it didn't come until we moved and I had a chance to talk with others about it. But I have forgiven and no longer hold onto any bitterness. However, the emotions still flooded me as I walked back into the church last week.

The day wasn't about me and that allowed me some peace as I walked through the doors. My first contact inside the foyer was a dear, sweet friend who met me with a hug. In that instant, I felt like I was oddly back at home.

Keep in mind, we have no intention of ever returning to the church and would probably question God if ever felt led there. So, I was pleasantly surprised at how it all felt normal to me.

As I stepped into the sanctuary, I had one person after another coming to hug me. I loved it, but did feel overwhelmed. I was there to grieve and I almost felt guilty that feeling loved seemed to take over for me.

While sitting in the sanctuary, I had one memory after another of time I spent there. Having volunteered there, I spent more time than most. I won't lie, there were many times I fell asleep on the pews or floor. When life was super crazy and I has severe insomnia, that sanctuary was the only place where I could relax and be quiet.

So many good memories. There were bad ones too. But the good were definitely the focus. Probably the best was my baptism. How could I ever not feel a sense of home in the place I was baptized? The place itself most certainly embraced me and comforted me as I sat in mourning.

The people also made it feel like home. Let me say this, there were definitely a great deal of those in attendance who'd left the church. We were in good company as many were walking back in for the first time since leaving. But I was super excited at the number of people who are still members who made me feel welcome.

Not trying to offend, but that isn't a strength of the church. I saw it while I was there and experienced it when we left. If you leave, you're an outsider. Even though you're still a Christian, still a brother or sister in Christ, you are shunned. Very few people stayed in contact with us except through social media.

It was awesome to see that not seem to matter on that day. At least to most. Don't get me wrong. There were still a group who didn't bother to even say hello when our elbows accidentally touched. So sad for them, that they still have a lot of maturing to do.

I couldn't have predicted how things would go. I couldn't have guessed how happy it would make me to step foot in our first church.

I can say happy with conviction. It was a reminder of how God led us there and worked in our lives. That church was my first, the place where God slowly and confidently showed himself to me. I suppose it's similar to the emotions I have for our first home. It wasn't always easy, even painful at times, but it was a good place. It was the place where something bigger in our lives began.

I don't have any plans to return, but if ever I need to, I will. I'll happily go. I'm so thankful for the ways God has used that church. Even the hardest of times, God has used to teach us.

Mixed Bag

We go home last night at 9:30 and leave tomorrow morning at 5 am. I'm tired to say the least. I'm dreading this trip. That's just honest.

It's never easy to look forward to a funeral. I hate that is the reason for the trip. But I dread all of it.

We've not learned yet how to manage these trips. How to prioritize visits and who it's ok to disappoint. We've been back twice and both times left people disappointed. It made us feel like we didn't prioritize correctly at the time and guilty that we let someone down. We've tried to give ample opportunities, but people's schedules never mesh.

I'm just gonna say this and it will make me sound awful, I know. I'm super excited to see the people I considered family two years ago. They were a solid group of friends for about three years. At the same time, I'm not excited at all. These are the same people who have mostly forgotten about me. The majority have had none to little contact with me unless I initiated. They are the same people who've made me feel lonely the past year. The same group who mostly forgot my 40th birthday. Why would I be excited? It's a hard balance that I'm not sure how to maneuver nor how to feel.

There are a few people who will be upset that I make no contact with them nor an effort to see them. They aren't a part of this group, but have mostly forgotten about me. We will have ONE day in town and part of that will be for a funeral. I don't know how to make it all work. It also doesn't seem fair to put priority in people who don't seem to care. I don't know. Of course there are a select few people none of this applies to and I'm looking forward to seeing them.

For 3 of the 4 nights, we are staying with my in laws. Oh how miserable, let me count the ways. My mother in law won't be a problem unless she gets mean. She mostly sleeps. However, she will be the downer. The thing that makes my husband grouchy, difficult and sad. I understand and yet, it's hard to handle.

My father in law will be grouchy as usual, I am sure. Again, understandable. I'll fume as I watch him treat his wife as she should be able to function normally and constantly bitch that she doesn't clean any more. It will be hot cause they keep the house 80 degrees and that will make tempers rise.

If we stay one day and the dogs are covered in fleas, then we will be scrambling for a hotel and all plans change. That's an extra stress.

My brother and his family is easy to deal with this time. There has been no contact since Christmas break and so, there's no need to have any now. It'll alter how I feel. It's sad.

We both know and feel all these things. Not going to lie, we will fight. They will be huge fights where we don't speak to each other for hours or go to bed mad.

I think about all these things and wonder why I would ever want to leave here. We've discussed that a lot lately. We only have one year left that we have to stay. Do we want to stay? Do we want to go back to KC? Do we want to go somewhere else? All I know is that preparing for this trip makes me lean toward staying. I may not have many friends, but I don't have the stress.

She Never Lost Her Hair

Showers are a great place to think because you don't have the distraction of TV or pets or text or Facebook. It's also a place for reality to overcome you.

It was in the shower, nearly 24 hours after learning of my friends death that I finally succumbed to reality. She's gone. My dear, sweet, precious friend with a contagious love for life, quirky personality and rock solid faith is gone. The humorous quips, notable grins and "What's up?" texts all gone with her.

Through and through, I'm a realist. I'm not a daydreamer and usually have a firm grasp on potential outcomes. But this happened so fast that I didn't have time to really wrap my head around it. The last time I saw her was a couple days before we moved. She was laughing and as healthy as any cancer patient can be. She hugged me goodbye and I never dreamed that would be our last.

Even though we knew the end was coming over a week ago, my heart wouldn't let me accept it. There was still time. Time for her body to gain strength. Time for doctors to try something new. Time for a miracle. We had discussed going back home over Memorial Day weekend and my intention was to see her. My heart was set on this not being the end, even though I knew better. While friends began referring to her in past tense, I refused. My friend was still very much alive and I refused to go there.

Last week as I began praying that she would make it past Mother's Day for the sake of her children, I still held onto hope for a miracle. The miracle would have been having her make it until then.

Fitting for her quirky personality, nobody can quite figure out if she passed away Saturday or Sunday. I imagine her up in heaven laughing that nobody can get it right or that it even matters. She'd really have a fit over all the fussing about and with her.

I first met Debbie during Wednesday night meals at our first church. My husband and I often say alone at a huge table. Debbie would often drop her kids off to eat at our table and take off to eat with friends. So, I really got to know her kids first. Honestly, neither of us liked that but never said anything. Over the next few years, it still happened occasionally.

About five years ago, I started going to a bible study with her. It took some time to get to know her. She was reserved and had a scowl a lot. But then we both got involved with this wonderful bunco group. A group of 15-20 ladies who became a family to me. Through that, I got to know Debbie much better.

She would help occasionally with rides to the store or church or social functions. She didn't live far from me, so it was convenient. The more we were around each other, the more we learned. We learned we had anxiety in common. Neither of us took meds for it. She never took meds because a diagnosis and meds could mean the end of her flight training.

We also shared screwed up brothers. I won't go into details about hers, but he's every bit as jacked up as my brothers. It gave us ways to pray for each other.

Once she was diagnosed, we became closer. It was easy to serve her and get more involved in her life. We were close until 600 miles separated us.

As it hit me in the shower today, I realized that all I have now are memories and a hope they will not soon fade.

I know God has a plan. It's greater than I can fathom. What I can see is only enough to illicit anger and confusion as our plans seem better. This is where the battle of good versus evil takes a supreme toll on my thoughts and heart. This woman was good. She was loved. It's evidenced by the numerous family members and friends who are deeply grieving. She had two young children. Why does this happen to someone like that, when evil people live on? I've lived a much more wretched life than her. My parents. Murders. Rapists. Why her over so many others?

I had a very religious friend say to me, this was Gods plan for her life. He needed her to die so that He could accomplish something greater. Wow! Not sure if go that far. Yes, I do believe He can and will use this death for His glory. However, I don't think He caused it for His glory.

I like what my husband said last week to me. I had a day when I couldn't hold back the tears and sadness and weight of what was happening. He didn't want to simplify it too much for me because he knew that would only make it worse. However, his simple explanation was so profound and beautiful. He said that the world and disease had broken her down so much, that God said it was almost time to heal her.

As I sit here in my heartache, I know he's right. I'm thankful he's right. The day I prayed for since my friend was diagnosed with colon cancer is finally here. The Lord has chosen to heal her and make her whole again. She is rejoicing with her Savior.

When she was diagnosed, many of her friends fretted over prognosis and treatments and staging. Not her, not on the outside anyways. Her biggest concern was not losing her hair. She was always cold and was certain being bald would make her freeze even more. She also didn't want her kids to see her without hair. While her hair thinned, she never went bald. I have to believe that was one of the many ways the Lord showed His goodness to her.

So now we plan and try to figure out how to make the long trip home. It's an unexpected one with poor personal timing for us. I can't imagine not being there though. I can't imagine not being with friends as we all say goodbye to our beloved friend. I can't imagine not hugging the necks of the many people who hold onto the same hope and faith that we will one day see her again.

MD 2015

I walked into church relatively adjusted given today is Mother's Day. We are leaving town later today for an overnight trip. I'd not thought about it much at all cause I've been focused on this little getaway.

Then son of a .... the people with a baby came in and sat down right in front of me. Tons of empty pees and they sit in front of me. I have to hear everyone wishing this new mom happy Mother's Day. I can smell that baby smell and now she's crying. What a cruel joke, God. Not fair at all today.

It took all of two seconds for the anger, hurt and frustration to flood in and overwhelm me. Damn it! I'd done so well.

I have no mother to celebrate. I have an egg donor who chose evil and selfishness over being a mother and now is not worthy of being celebrated.

When I was a kid, I hated how teachers made us make Mother's Day gifts every year. I never put in much effort and it made me hate art. Sometimes I would toss it out of my bag. Other times, I'd break it before giving it to her. She wasn't worthy and I knew that even as a young child.

Now, I feel like companies and society crams it down our throats. It's not a day to celebrate but spend. I know. My email has been bombarded for a month. It's everywhere. I can't escape it.

Then we have the whole issue of not being a mom. I know some would say I am with children in heaven. I don't see it like that. I'm not recognized. There's no cards for that. No gifts. Only sad looks on days like today cause I have never experienced motherhood.

The only claim to motherhood I have is to four little dogs. They don't speak, but show affection in other ways. However, the general public sees that as a sad, pathetic claim to motherhood.

After today, I won't have to think about Mother's Day until the emails start up next April. Thank God!!!!

School Update

I finished my first semester!!!!

All of my classes were difficult, as was the learning curve. In 4 out of 5 classes, I started with a C or lower. It took a lot of dedication and hard work, but I finished with 4 As and a B. I'm happy with that.

While I have enjoyed classes and they have kept me busy, I was ready for a break from the books.

This 12 days off have given me time to consider and pray and plan for my remaining degree specific courses.

As I mentioned before, the idea of graduating over 20k in debt weighed heavy on me. With cramming all my hours into 16 months, I was looking at not being able to pay much out of pocket and relying on federal loans. Not ideal, but it got me some the fastest.

Also, as mentioned before, I don't plan to use the degree for a paid position. So, that meant I was adding debt with no additional income. My payback would have started about Christmas time of 2016. My loan payments would be nearly $400 per month.

Ok, who has that kind of money without a job? Not me!!!!

That led me to seriously consider slowing down.

Remember, God will give me everything I need to accomplish his will.

I have to admit something. The past five months have been miserable for me. Sure, school kept me busy. But it also tied me to a chair about 10 hours per day.

By half way through, I found my depression and anxiety increasing daily. I didn't have time to do anything I enjoyed and I get more and more trapped.

Moving here has brought more stability. However, I feel like I have to protective that or I can lose it. A major depressive or anxious episode could set me back. If you know my full story, you know the chaos that could come with that.

Keeping in mind that I do have a stress disorder and 15 hours per semester proved to be highly stressful, I definitely had to reconsider the class load.

Another problem is that the class load prevented me from serving people. That's what this whole thing is about. I want to serve people better. But I also don't want to give up serving to meet the goal.

It's a mixed bag, but I've (we've) decided to slow down. I'm only going to take the number of classes we can afford. It will delay the goal, but not prevent it. My classes are locked in and I know exactly what I need to graduate.

Hopefully, I can find scholarships so that I can add classes each semester. This semester, I'll be taking one bible class in the second half of summer. We will see what the fall brings. Until then, I'm going to enjoy some time get back into a routine that doesn't keep me on the couch all day.

Run Forrest Run

As I've been down all day with a sore back, I can't help but think about my only goal.

I literally haven't been able to do much except walk around the house and that has left me in excruciating pain. Two nights ago, I threw heavy boxes around in the garage like I was some kind of he man. I woke up today with pain from my neck down to my knee on one side. It sucks and makes me feel old!

It seems funny to say since I can barely walk today, but I still want to run. I wrote about this before. It's one of those far fetched goals tht will likely never happen, but I want to.

I've looked at the couch to 5k stuff and it's scary to me. I don't mind the walking part, but jogging for even 90 seconds scares me. Oh my goodness, I also wouldn't want anyone to see that either.

So I suppose it's more of a dream than goal. It's all part of this dream I have of being healthier. I don't care about losing weight. That will come natural if I'm healthier. It's so hard though.

If I'm given the choice between chips or a salad, it's too easy to make the choice that makes me happier.

I have no idea where this dream is going, but I want it to be more than that. I really do want health over short term happy.

I'd love to hear any suggestions anyone might have.

Our OCDs

My husband and I both have some obsessive behaviors. We also don't fight over much, except those behaviors. We don't have much to fight about. We don't argue about money and no reason to disagree over children. So, that leaves our own behaviors. Don't get me wrong, we fight. We both fight dirty. He brings up stuff from the past and I refuse to talk to him, which he hates.

We will often fight over who is going to do what, since we live in a world where things are often split evenly. We tend to fall into that trap where we often feel slighted or like the other isn't pulling their weight. It's trivial, really.

In our married life, we've had more serious things to fight about and fight for. Right now, isn't one of those times. However, behavior is the most consistent thing we've fought about.

The first time I did laundry as a new wife, I was so happy to wash, dry and put all the laundry away. I was crushed when I found my husband refolding all of his clothes. It made me feel like I was already a failure as a wife.

I'm diagnosed with mild OCD and my husband probably would be if given the opportunity. Mine doesn't interfere with leading a normal life, but I do have repetitive behaviors that keep me busy.

If you looked at our house or my life, you wouldn't guess that either of us deal with OCDs. They aren't so obvious to anyone who doesn't live with us. I've written about a lot of mine previously. But in summary, I don't care if the floor is filled with dog toys. However, I cannot sit still if there is a light on or cabinet open. I check and recheck doors at night and ask my husband over and over if he has his wallet or has closed the garage door or shut things off.

My husband has several too. Obvious, he has very particular ways he wants his clothes folded. He has relaxed on it, as he has most of his. He can't stand to put dirty dishes in the sink. He wants the toothpaste to be squeezed from the bottom up and always pushed to the top.

That's where I want to stop. I know, none of these things are complex things. They are simple and silly things to most. But, it's all a part of who we are. These are the things we fight about.

When I say fight, I mean my husband gets irritated or blows up over one of our behaviors and I return blows of my own. Not that I am a saint, but I learned long ago that I am ok with most quirky behavior.

At the core of each fight are two things. One person who wants to change the behavior of the other and a complete lack of understanding and/or respect.

Both of us have held onto these behaviors for a very long time. It is unlikely that blowing up is going to change anything about the other person. In fact, we are just going to hurt their feelings and make them feel like a weirdo. We blow up because we don't understand what drives the other person and we lack respect for all that makes the other person who they are. We love each other. We should respect all that makes up each other.

While I was getting toothpaste the other day, I had an epiphany about all of this. My husband had pushed all the toothpaste to the top like he does after I use it every time.

Is it really that hard to use the toothpaste the way he prefers? Wouldn't that alleviate his frustration when he has to take care of it everyday? Don't I love him enough that I don't want to cause him any additional stress, even if I don't understand it?

You bet!

I don't at all understand why toothpaste tubes cause him so much frustration. But they do! We've fought over it.

My biggest problem with him and my OCDs is his lack of understanding and respect for me. What I realized is that I'm not very understanding and respectful either.

For the past few days, I have made sure to squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom. He might not ever notice, but I will know. I will know that each morning he won't go through the hassle of fixing it.

It is simple, but it matters. It matters because I love him. I can't possibly ever expect to get from him what I'm unwilling to give. And, that matters too.

Not that I plan to, but I'm sure I'll eventually slip up and he will eventually blow up over it again. I think next time, I'll have a bit more understanding and can hopefully handle it a little better. We will celebrate 17 years this August and gosh....I'm still learning how to be a wife, respect my husband and love him better.

Greater

Admittedly, I was preoccupied with other things during church on Sunday. It was all good. It wasn't like I was focused on lunch or something silly. It was the cross. However, I think the minister quoted a Mercy Me song. If he didn't, then I'm a bit crazy and imagined it.

Bring your tired and bring your shame.
Bring your guilt and bring your pain.
Don't you know that's not your name.
You will always be much more to me.

Bring your doubts and bring your fears.
Bring your hurt and bring your tears.
There'll be no condemnation here.
You are holy, righteous and redeemed.

Every time I fall, there'll be those who will call me a mistake.

I hear a voice and He calls me redeemed.
When others say I'll never be enough,
And greater is the One living inside of me,
Than he who is living in the world.

With my birthday just having past and Mother's Day coming, I certainly in an annual struggle over my identity.

There is no other time of the year that it is so important for me to find my identity in Christ and not here in this world.

Until I was a Christian, I had a sorry identity. It pains me to even think about it.

I was a horrible wife who treated her husband as if he were a paycheck and way out of a bad situation. I was an uncaring manager of women who were broken and wanted to be loved for the most part. I wasn't a mother and had no hope of ever being one. I didn't care what I did to others or myself. I was the daughter of child molesters, child abusers and those who neglect every living thing.

Yea, that last one was probably the hardest and the one I most identified with. Even with the little memory of my childhood that was known to me, I knew they were bad people. They were bad people, so as their daughter, I must also be bad. That's what I hung onto for over 32 years. I didn't even try to change, it was my destiny.

I won't say it was immediate at all, but in time as a Christian, I learned that I had a new identity. I am a bad person, so far from perfect. Not bad because I was born to bad parents. I'm bad because I am a sinner. Maybe bad isn't the best description for it. I am a sinner.

As a Christian, I am forgiven. I am forgiven and accepted into God's kingdom as His daughter and sister to many.

When I was finally able to wrap my head around this gift that I never deserved, my identity changed. I no longer have to be attached to my original family. They abandoned me and left me as an orphan, by their actions and choices. They left me and I was adopted by a bigger, better family.

That struggle has lessened immensely, but it creeps back up. I have to remind myself over and over of the truth.

I'm so thankful that this topic of identity has been woven into bible study and sermons lately. I've needed the helpful reminder. I've needed to hear verbally from someone else that I am redeemed and loved, a part of something bigger.

God is Faithful

Last year, we spent a lot of time putting life together inside our house. It was a mess. To be fair, it took a lot of work and energy. With my husband being a mess and me being sick, we did little more than mow outside. I had a garden, but it was skimpy at best and not well kept.

You can imagine the mess we had outside if there was a chicken carcass in the cabinet and panties in the freezer inside. There was so much trash in the yard. The flower beds were a disaster. We did manage to pick up the trash last year but lived with awful landscaping.

This year we started tackling the landscaping as soon as it looked possible. We started with the flowerbed that wraps around our porch and house in front. We filled in the giant gaps with perennials. I now have pink, orange and yellow roses. We have lavender, carnations and lambs ear with decorative grass at the very end. We filled it with black mulch and added solar lights. We will have to weed and maintain it, but shouldn't have to plant anything for several years.

We didn't stop there. We added creeping phlox and a bush to the garage side. I've filled pots with herbs and flowers. We've put our house plants on the deck. For the first time ever, I have been able to buy and hang beautiful, huge baskets of flowers. We have two huge pots hanging on the deck. we have a hummingbird feeder for the many varieties of birds we have come through during the spring and summer.

Our garden got planted this weekend too. Tomatoes, peas, beans, carrots, asparagus, herbs and three kinds of onions. We have been busy on the yard, most definitely. We've both already gotten sunburned. The trees aren't quite full yet, but they are finally coming.

Things are new and fresh. We had a long, cold winter. Everything died and all signs of life were brown and gray. I think that's why I love snow so much. It covers the dead things and makes them look pretty and pure.

Of course throughout the entire weekend, my friend with cancer was on my heavy on my heart. Last week, I was told to pray that she have a few days at home with her family. So I did. I shared that request with others. We all wanted her to have her hearts desire. She got to go home on Thursday and was still there as of today.

She is weak. I'm not sure about her pain level. Each day that I find out she is still at home, I rejoice. It seemed like too simple of a request, but too big to achieve. I am thankful that she has gotten this time with her family. Most of us knowing are preparing for what happens when she can no longer be at home.

As I sat in church today, I found it hard to focus on the sermon because I was focused on the cross. The cross is a constant reminder of the biggest promise the Lord ever made to us. He promised us salvation through the work of Jesus on the cross. That's a big one and one that we rarely forget. But, God made other promises too. He didn't just make promises, He stays faithful in them...over and over and over and over.

In the Bible, we can find all His promises. In Philippians 4:19, He promises to take care of us. In Romans 8:37-39, He promises that nothing can separate us from His love. In Matthew 11:28-29, He promises us rest and to carry our burdens.

He also promises restoration. In Joel 2:25-26, He says He will restore all the years that the locust have eaten.

He promises in Mark 11:24 that He answers prayers for believers.

I thought through all of these.

The winter comes and kills everything that is beautiful. Spring brings warmer weather, rain and a restoration of what has been dead. We know we can count on it because He never fails us. I suppose there are areas that are too cold or too hot to see this kind of renewal. But, we do get to see it and I am so happy about that.

As we were working outside this weekend, I found myself feeling guilty. I'm likely going to cover this later, so I won't dwell on it much. My friend was laying on her couch dying while I enjoyed God's faithfulness in the restoration spring brings.

While I was thinking through all the ways God shows His faithfulness, I had to remind myself that she is experiencing God's faithfulness in other ways right now. He has promised to answer prayers and He has by giving her time at home. He has promised to take care of us and He is by giving her what she needs when the doctors can do no more. He is giving her hope in eternal life by what Jesus did on the cross.

My flesh leads me to be sad for all that is not right now. However, my heart knows that I can rejoice. I can rejoice because of the Lord's faithfulness in His promises.

Hard Goodbye

I am trying me best to enjoy my break from school. It's so great to not be stuck on the couch with a book, paper or computer. This break is good for me. It makes the OCD me happy to be able to deep clean and catch up on laundry. Already this morning, I've got chili and a pork shoulder in crockpots. I've had Christian music playing. It's my happy place or should be.

There's this dark cloud lingering overhead. I suppose that's normal when you are trying to accept and process the impending death of a friend. It's heavy on my heart. I got another dreaded phone call and text yesterday. My friend had to be taken to the hospice house because she was in pain.

The goal for her is to get her pain under control with IV meds enough to give her a couple days at home. If they can get that, then she will return to hospice house for the last of her days. Her remaining days are few. They also don't know if they can give her her hearts desire, but they are trying.

Over the past few days, friends have helped her and her family plan her funeral. I'm trying to process that and I can't. This really is the end.

Shortly after her first round of surgeries, she had a colostomy. My friend isn't good with medical stuff. At a girls night, she had massive problems with her bag and had to leave early. The next day when I checked on her, she said "I hate this shitty mess." Well friend, that's how I feel now.

Up to today, I had chosen not to call her. First of all, I can barely think of her without bursting into tears. I didn't think that would be encouraging to her. Second, I've held onto hope that I would see her again. As I've figured out that's not going to happen, I've gone back and forth. I was told last night, that I waited too long to call her.

This morning, I sat and wrote a text to her in hopes her family will read it to her. My heart broke and the tears flowed, but I didn't make the text sad. Even though it was a final goodbye, it wasn't a sad goodbye. I let her know how much I loved her and what her friendship has meant to me. I don't have to say goodbye since I'm confident in the promise of heaven. For my own selfish heart, I needed her to know how much I valued her.

There's no place I'd rather be right now than back in KC. When she was diagnosed, I made her a lap quilt. She's always freezing and it was pretty clear she was going to have a long road of chemo treatments. As I say in the hospital with her the day I took it to her, I told her she'd never walk a step of this journey alone.

Ultimately that is true. God has been with her every step. So has her family. And her friends. But the the reality is that only she has experienced this journey in her shoes. I can't imagine the fear and anxiety she must have felt at times. She's a highly anxious person anyway. You'd never know cause she puts on a brave, no non sense face most of the time.

When she found out what my issues were, she shared quite openly with me her struggles. Despite her anxiety, she couldn't be medicated for it or she would have lost her job. She was flight trainer for commercial pilots. She always told me she was going to take me up and cure my fear of flying. I always laughed at that.

I can't yet wrap my head around all of this. Right before her diagnosis two years ago, we grabbed lunch on a rainy day when she wasn't working. She was fine. There was no sign that this evil monster was growing in her. Here we are two years later and we are preparing to not have her. I can't yet adjust my life to not expect her quirky "what's up" text every month or so.