The struggle is real.

I'm reading the book 'Redeeming Love' by Francine Rivers for at least the third time.  Have you read it?  I think many of us can relate to the character of Sarah/Angel/Amanda/Mandy/Tirzah.  She is in a good place of healing and then along comes Paul, reminding her of her past and what could've been for Michael every time she sees him.  Can you imagine?  The pain of being reminded of your past at every turn?  And then I realized over the last couple of days that I can do that to myself.  I nearly aid Satan in his attacks by not fighting him off.

So today I am going to begin reading 'Battlefield of the Mind' by Joyce Meyers.  I have had the book on my bookshelf for many years but have never sat down to read it.  Foolishly, I bought the book as a resource but didn't think I'd need that kind of book because my walk was so strong.  A raging battle has been brought to my doorstep and I need to be equipped.  I had a dream many years ago of demons running/stampeding through a mall.  I was in a store upstairs with a couple of people and I heard the pounding of the feet.  I knew it was trouble.  There were ashes left everywhere they'd gone.  People were screaming and frozen with fear.  I walked to the half glass wall next to the escalators/stairs that allowed me to see below and stood my ground.  I knew that they couldn't approach me, much less could they hurt me. That woman is still within me.  I know that Satan will not win this battle.

I haven't visited this blog in many months.  I'm not at all proud of my failings as a human, except that it reminds me of my humanness. I have always referred to God as the ultimate scrapbooker since he leaves no scrap unused in our lives. Every trip or splatter that I've had He's used in some form or another.  I am always thankful when I get to sit with a beloved girlfriend and we share what we've screwed up on.  I'm not one to celebrate shortcomings, lest I be misunderstood, however, I do appreciate a good belly laugh when I realize we try so hard to be perfect in our walks and we can not be so.  But we keep striving to be the very best version of ourselves, with God's direction, patience and grace.  Oh, but with His grace for real.

Flesh wound

My relationship with Christ has been strained in the past couple years.  I've written about it here and prayed about it for such a long time.  God never changes, right?  So I knew it was me who was the guilty party in our relationship.  I even told a girlfriend that I was considering going to a counselor but what I really needed was the equivalent of a marriage counselor for my relationship with Christ.  They don't really have those around, ya know?  While I was talking with her I began to sob.  Ya see, God had brought a person across my path that week who was concerned about why I hadn't been worshiping in church on Sunday mornings.  I got upset and felt like it was none of her business though I didn't tell this senior saint any such thing.  Promise.  But God used her because I was griping about this chic to anyone who stood still, calling her a meddler and everything.  Then it was rising to the surface, suddenly I began to feel like a zit that was about to explode.  And you know honestly?, they can be messy.  So here it came.  I was a mess.  I talked about how angry and frustrated I was getting with myself because I couldn't seem to move on from that time in my life.  And it was debilitating to me.  This girlfriend by God's sweet grace just listened and let me talk.  It was so helpful to me.  I talked about how confused I was about the house we'd purchased because the decision had been bathed in prayer.  I shared about our finances and how we'd saved all this money only to lose it plus so much more between the buying process and then the sale one year later.  She began to talk about how maybe, just maybe, God wanted us to have the experience of the house.  And maybe He wanted us to walk that path to allow us to go through growth and subsequent changes of heart regarding many things.  I heard her, I heard God talking through her and I knew she was right.  Too many wonderful things came out of that season for me to be angry or bitter any longer.  I could see beauty from ashes and could feel God's love and forgiveness for my withdrawing from Him.  But the sweetest things from that day were God showing me a picture of a large Valentine's type heart and there was the wee little splinter in the upper right side on the surface of the heart...like I could take tweezers and pull it away.  It wasn't a deep wound, it was right on the surface, oh how that blesses me still.  And the second thing was that I could not wait to get back to church on Sunday morning.  Couldn't wait to worship with the body of Christ my Lord and Savior who had ransomed Himself for my many sins.  The weight of His sacrifice was new to me again and I give thanks and gratitude to my Lord for putting up with me, for being my Savior and for loving me like no one else ever can.

The Surfboard

There are times when I feel very blessed to get to experience motherhood.  I'd love to shout it from the rooftops (aka Facebook) but I am tenderly aware of friends who are struggling with infertility and may not have the same experience I've been blessed with.  So I'll tell you about my sweet season here.  I have long entertained the idea that as a mother I see myself as the surfboard and my children as the surfers.  I consider it an honor and privilege to help these children become the man and woman of God that our Lord has called them to be.

My daughter is very similar to me.  I see it all the time, from the way she turns into a pile of mush when something moves her, to how cheesy she can be and then also how strong willed she is.  It used to aggravate me to no end, but now I see she helps me to love myself.  This past week she decided to take on running for an SCA office, Vice President to be exact.  Now this isn't something I would've done...I would've wanted to, but I didn't have the confidence to put myself out there like she has.  Last week we got her speech written, made campaign posters and practiced that speech over and over again.  Today was go time for her and 23 other young hopefuls who wanted to fill the five available officer slots.  I could not have been more proud of my daughter.  She got up there and said her speech.  She talked about loving soccer, horses, art and worshipping Jesus at church with her family. Tears just fell.  I couldn't believe how I felt in that moment.  So proud of her, so happy for her.  This child is confident.  She knows what she likes and isn't trying to alter herself for anyone.  At the age of 38 I'm just now getting there.  At the age of nine this child is so much cleaner and healthier than I am, it blesses me so much. 

So she didn't win.  There were eight children wanting the same position and a sweet young boy took the title today.  Bridget was initially very disappointed and sad.  I was in her classroom for her year end party (there are no coincidences with God) when all the candidates were summoned to the library to learn of the results.  I saw on her face that she wanted to cry but didn't.  I offered to take her home 10 minutes early thinking she could have a cry and compose herself before her brother and the young girl who comes over everyday got off the bus. I whispered to her brother that she didn't win and he sweetly gave her the best hug and said he was sorry.  The young lady who had struggled for days about who she was going to vote for?  She said very sweetly to my daughter 'I voted for you, you need to know that'.  Off they went to play not to be mentioned again until bedtime during prayers.  She felt like she'd prayed about it so much, so shouldn't she have won?  I stifled a laugh because I was there for a long time, but just told her that God always knows what's best for us. 

I'm so thankful for days like this one.  I am exhausted, I mean done.  But it's one of the most satisfying days of my life as a parent. 

Did the Tortoise really want to be the Hare?

I think I may have become a turtle at some point in the recent past.  It certainly wasn't my intention but every now and again I find myself peaking out and about to see what is going on in the world, and the moment I get spooked I want to quickly run back in my shell.  I wasn't always like this, you see I used to be quite outgoing and fancy free. 

I remember the girl of my youth who would play in the rain and soak in a bubble bath with candles lit nearly every night.  I had a crazy fun career that I didn't take too seriously and related so closely with the character on Ally McBeal that I found my own theme song. (Alana Davis's 'Crazy') I had an apartment where my favorite thing to do was get fresh flowers on the weekends after cleaning my little home.  The memories are so sweet to me. But the greatest gift that time spent living alone gave me was getting to know myself.  At the age of 21 I had my own little space and it was fabulous. I also came to know Christ as my personal Savior shortly after I moved in and was completely smitten with my Lord. My testimony wasn't one filled with tales of woe, I was raised in a Christian home and the foundation was a strong one.  But everyone has to meet Christ on their own and my experience happened like a courtship and then I was His. 

Sometimes I miss those early romantic days with my love.  Now we have settled into a relationship rich with history and growth. But, I've been hurt and so it is taking me a lot of time to recover.  It's affected the way I communicate with God.  It's like He became larger than life to me and I saw a side of Him that scared me.  The way He provided for us and took care of us, there was just no denying his presence in the time of chaos.  I get so impatient with my recovery because it isn't physical and I feel like I should be able to shake it off, but it's not shaking off... I don't dwell on the loss we experienced anymore.  I really don't think about it as much as I once did.  But I do notice that I'm not the same person I was and I just miss her sometimes. 

I used to have lots of girlfriends, go out for Mom's Nights Out at least once a month and was just a socially busy lady.  Now?  Well, I was invited to go out with some sweet friends last week and I nearly had anxiety over the thought of getting together with them.  They're old friends but I feel like I've been to war or something and can no longer relate to them.  Which isn't true, but I'm just not the same girl they knew four years ago.  The only other time in my life that I can relate it to was when my dad died and my sisters and I and my mom had to be home together.  I couldn't go more than a couple hours without being at home, I would panic.  I felt safe at home like nothing bad could happen...even though my dad had died there.  I just felt like the world was no longer safe, no longer spinning on the same axis.  Hmm.  That's kinda how I feel now.  And I did recover from my dad's death.  I mean, as much as I could really recover from his death, ya know?  And that encourages me. 

On the bright side I will say that my relationship with Steve is more intense/intimate.  I trust him with me so much more than I did before.  Something about seeing each other so raw and rocked, just made us a lot stronger as a couple and that is something we did not have when I was being a social butterfly and filling my calendar every chance I could.

Now my question is, is what I'm experiencing part of the healing process or is it a soul adjustment?  Time will tell.

Circling Back

I am continually amazed at how similar my daughter and I are. I have horrible anxiety about the dentist but not for no reason...I had an experience with an impatient dentist whom attempted to drill a cavity before I was numb. When I called attention (as did the young lady assisting him) he blew us off. I came very close to kneeing him in the jaw. He finally backed off but was very upset with the appointment. So now when I have appointments for fillings I am filled with dread and anxiety. 

Fast forward to today with my sweet pea. I was not concerned about her, no anxiety, as she's always handled dental work well. Today I am in the hallway in a swivel chair right outside her room. She is a hot mess, my little sweet pea. :( So nervous and shaking. They keep inviting me back in the room to help calm her down. She is nearly finished with her appointment and I imagine her nerves are probably feeling pretty raw right about now. Being a parent is hard on the heart. 

Today I'm thankful I can now recognize that my dentist from 15 years ago was simply impatient.  God uses my children often to help bring closure to situations for me and I am grateful. Also? I'm investing in a high quality fluoride toothpaste for my girl. I pray she doesn't have this experience again. 

Choose Joy

Our world is a dark place filled with anxiety and fear. Our government is shut down and the drama associated with that frightens people. People have lost their jobs, some temporarily and some permanently. And I get heavy hearted for them. I've been there and it has not been that long ago. I remember too many details and feelings associated with that time of uncertainty in our family. But for anyone going through it I would tell them that it doesn't last. The feelings of grief and fear fade, jobs return, forgiveness comes and life resumes. 

I saw a picture of our old house last night online. I wasn't hunting for it, a Facebook friend took a picture of his child playing in that houses front yard, but I starred at it. Was I trying to evoke old feelings? If I was, there were none, and it was wonderful. I can say with joy and gratitude that I am healing.  That house represented a lot of regret and pain in my life and none of that was there last night. What bliss that was for me. 

So while our world is filled with fear and anxiety we have the gift of choice. We can choose to participate or we can choose to walk our path in faith that recovery is coming along with brighter days. And those days are brighter, indeed. 

Reconnected (...and it feels so good)

I've recently reconnected with a precious soul who was so close to me at one time she was in our small wedding.  How we lost touch I'm not even sure.  I've mentioned before how I never transitioned well from one season to another until recently and I think, sadly, she was one of the casualties of my ignorance.  By grace she has let me into her life again and the relationship is such a treasure to me. 

I'm not sure if she'll ever realize what she contributes to my life.  I get to be myself with her and lose all of the titles.  I'm not a wife, mom, PTA volunteer or Awana volunteer with her.  She lets me just be myself and we talk.  Sometimes about the deep things of relationships and other times the drama a workplace can bring. I'm so thankful for the forgiveness and grace that has been poured out on this relationship. I'm pretty sure that any relationship where God is allowed to be glorified is one that will stand the test of time.