One Amazing Year

It's been awhile since my last blog. I've been meaning to write a new post for about a month or so now, but life keeps getting in the way. But I felt like today was a good day to write.

First of all, today is my 9th anniversary with Joe. This time last year, I was sitting in a lawyer's office discussing custody schedules and alimony. Wow, what a year. God has been so amazingly good and wonderful to my family. If it hadn't been for Him rescuing me from my personal hell, I probably would have committed suicide. Shocking to see it in print, but still true. But because of God's unfailing love, mercy, and grace, I sit before you now, a living testimony to His greatness. My whole family is a testimony.

I am so incredibly, madly, passionately in love with my husband. A great truth I've discovered over the past year is that while Joe and I are not perfect by any means, God made us perfect for one another. There is not another man out there who would complete me as perfectly as Joe does. And I feel confident in saying that Joe feels the same way about me.

I am so proud of Joe for the leaps and bounds he's taken towards God this past year. He is a man that I can deeply, profoundly respect. He still struggles, but he's learning to turn everything over to God and to let Him rule. One of my favorite things is to get together and pray. I never thought I would say that. It always sounded so "Christian." Just so cliched. But it's true. It delights my heart to see him becoming a man of God.

Neither of us are anywhere near the same person we were at the beginning of 2010. I've learned that I unintentionally put enormous pressure on Joe by trying to make him be my God. Once God showed me what I was doing and I turned to the real God, our marriage grew so much stronger.

This year has been an amazing year in my personal life as well as with my marriage. I never knew how much energy I was expending in running away from God trying to find "freedom" until I came running back to Him. I recently got Psalms 18:19b tattooed on my back: He rescued me, because He delighted in me. Wow. Just let that sink in. God delights in me. He delights in you. Wow. When that truth finally sunk in, it floored me. Here I am, this worthless, pathetic creature. Who am I that God should even notice me, much less delight in me? But yet He does. He really truly does. And He longs to show it. Praise Him for His mighty deeds, His incredible wonders! The infinite God of the universe DELIGHTS in me!!! And He came with swords blazing to rescue me. He came to save my marriage. He came to save my husband. He came to save my family from the powers of darkness. All I can do right now is sit here in amazement, crying, while Joe looks on in concern from the couch. That's why I got it permanently etched onto my body. I never want to forget. Right now I pray that I will always have this awe of God, that I will always run as hard as I can to Him so that I can rest in His arms. I want this year with God to last all my days.

So, I sit here on my 9th anniversary, thinking back over this past year and how this anniversary means more to me than all the others combined. How this feels like the first in so many ways. I think of how grateful I am to have such a wonderful husband who loves me as Christ loves the church. I thank God for him every day. I am so blessed to be called his wife. I hope to be his "ruby" forever. I want to be a blessing to him and love him and support him with everything that I am, and when I fail, to rely on God to give me the strength to fight for him and with him against anything this fallen world can hurl at us.

Thank you, God. Thank you.

The Bracelet

Something monumental happened today. I bought a bracelet. I know that doesn't exactly seem very momentous, but to me it was. I've never worn bracelets or fancy necklaces or anything like that. I've never painted my fingernails. I've never believed that I could be the type of girl to wear and do things like that.

All my life, I have been so unsure of myself. I try to blend in, even when I don't really want to. When I was in high school, I wore a size 0. But I still thought I was ugly and messed up. I tried to pretend that I didn't feel that way, but deep down in that dark place where I stuff things, I did. Since then, I gained a lot of weight. Too much. And I hated myself. And I assumed others felt the same way about me. At the very least, they were disgusted by me. So I tried to hide, to blend in. Definitely no frills about me then.

Since Banana's birth almost a year ago, I've lost about 30 lbs. I've gone from growing out of my 14s to a 6. And I'm finally beginning to feel good about myself. I don't think it's all because of losing the weight that I'm feeling like this. I've finally have started to become comfortable in my own skin. Maybe it's because I'm 27 now and not 17. I've heard that a woman feels her most beautiful at the age of 30. I'll let you know in three years if that's true.

But I think what has really had the biggest impact on me is realizing how much God loves me and how beautiful He thinks I am. He designed me. He wanted me to have this hair, this nose (which admittedly looked better before Thane broke it), this body. He created me to be beautiful to Him. One of the most beautiful women I know of is my mother, Ruth. She doesn't even realize her radiance. She seems to glow from within. God shines through her. She is a mighty oak, displayed for His splendor. I want to be like that. I want to radiate His glory. As I have been seeking after Him and falling in love with Him, I have also been falling in love with myself. Not in a narcissistic way, but realizing that if God sees me as beautiful and lovely, maybe I am.

So I bought a bracelet. And I actually wore it around Target. No one laughed at me. No one even cared. And it was wonderful.

Florida! (The Happy Version)

I totally should have written this as soon as I got home because now I've forgotten the hilarious things Lou did and said. Darn it. Oh, well. I'll just hope it comes to me as I'm writing. So I guess the best place to start this adventure is from the beginning. Here goes.

For the few days before the trip, like clockwork, Lou had been asking if we were "going to Florida now." By the time Joe got home at 7pm from working a half shift, I was ready to go to Florida now. We left at 9 something and got there before 7 the next morning. The drive went well enough. Lou only slept for about 5 hours of it, but she watched movies the whole time she was awake. The Sunshine State wasn't so sunshiny. It rained for the first couple of days there so we just did inside stuff instead of going to the beach. We finally got to go to the beach, but it was rainy and it had a red flag (meaning high hazard) almost every day.

The girls LOVED the beach. I mean, absolutely could not get enough of it. Even Banana had a blast (for the most part.) While I don't really like the idea of putting pics of my kids on here, I am going to put one of Banana just because words can't describe the sunscreen/sand/saltwater-in-the-eyes incident. The poor girl had it rough the first day. It started out innocently enough. Joe put sunscreen on her and did so good trying to keep it out of her eyes. (We had forgotten the stick sunscreen.) But then, with cat-like reflexes, she managed to get some on her sandy hands, which of course went directly to the eyes. We tried to wash off her hands, but then she just rubbed her eyes again, this time with saltwater. Finally, I had to get a bottle of water from the cooler and pour it in her eyes. And then the combination of the sunscreen on her head and the wind just wreaked havoc on her hair. But as sad as she looks, she still had so much fun. She would dig, dig, dig all of the sand around her and pile it on her legs, then squeal with laughter as she would kick her legs out.

And Lou just had so much fun playing in the waves and building sand castles. She has NO fear whatsoever. When a wave swamped her for the first time and she couldn't get up and Papa had to rescue her, I thought that she would've been at least a little concerned, if not somewhat scared. But no. She just laughed and said, "What happened? It was fast!" then bounded off again. She and Joe built a sand mound about 4 feet in diameter and about 3 1/2 feet high and she would stand at the top and slide down it on her belly "like a penguin." She got stung by jellyfish, but didn't even care. She flew a kite on the beach. She got buried in the sand and helped bury her Papa. She cried when we left FL and kept saying that she wanted to go back to the beach. Me, too, kiddo. Me, too.

The oil would come and go. So did the seaweed. The last day we were there was perfect. No seaweed, no oil, green flag flying, perfect temps and sunny. I wish it would have been like that the whole time. We went to Destin one day, to the Gulfarium (totally not worth the money) and then to the beach there and it was so seaweed-y and horrible. I've never seen Destin with that much seaweed. I guess it was because of the hurricane.

Sadly, James and Audra had to work most of the time so we didn't get to hang out with them as much as we would have liked. I never realized how much Lou looks like Audra until this trip. I think she looks more like Audra than she does me. But that's ok. I've got Banana.

The girls were great on the trip back. A 9+ hour car ride and we only had to stop twice and then once more for gas. I was impressed with how well they behaved. Since I drove almost the whole way there, Joe drove back.

But I gotta say, even though I miss the beach, it's nice being home.

UPDATE: Totally forgot to mention how well the girls did sleeping in the same room. Ok, the first night was horrendous. They woke each other up about 3 times and Joe wound up sleeping on the other couch while Lou and I slept on the hide-a-bed. And then Banana woke up at 5. But, the point is that they did so good, we've decided when it's time to put Banana into a big girl bed, we're going to get them bunk beds and turn Lou's room into a playroom. Or you know, into another nursery, since Joe's decided we're having two more kids. But that's for a whole 'nother post.

27

So today's my 27th birthday. I'm no longer in my "mid-twenties." Nowhere to go but old from here on out. I'm just kinda blah today. I just keep getting bad news on top of bad news. Even news that sounds good has a seemly underbelly.

It's been a rough couple of days. We had to go to a 7 year old's funeral on Thursday. Seven. That is waaay too young. My heart is so completely broken for his parents. He was supposed to have started 2nd grade the day he was buried. I always see headlines for stuff like this and I think, "Geez. How sad." But when it happens to someone you know, to someone who shares the same lineage and browline as your kids, it hits home with a little more force. I just sat weeping Thursday night thinking about his new school clothes. Will his mom return them or keep them as a reminder of things not to come?

It's easy to wonder where God is in all of this. It would've been so easy for God to have saved him. He had so many people praying for him. His death was caused by an amoeba. Something that seems so small and insignificant, yet left a wake of destruction in its path.

It's one of those times that questions my beliefs. I know that God is good. Everything God does is good. He works all things for good for those who believe in Him, like Davian did. So how in the world is Davian's death good? I have to believe that it somehow is good, even if I can't see the reasoning behind it right now. Because if I believe that it's not good, then I'm calling God a liar, and I know He's not. I guess this is where faith comes in.

Ugh

So I'm doing Beth Moore's "Breaking Free" bible study. It's all about, yup, you guessed it, breaking free from sin's captivity. I'm in week two now and all I can say is that I'm in deep captivity. One of the areas in which I struggle is pride. But I have a sick, twisted pride. I don't think of myself as prideful. I look at others who struggle with pride and say, "At least I'm not them. I don't struggle with pride."

Bull crap.

Another area in which I struggle is worrying, especially about Joe, and specifically about his state of spiritual health. Because I obviously don't have enough to worry about myself. God has told me plenty of times, in all sorts of ways, to let it go and give it to Him. Joe's fine. But I can't. In my pride and worry, I keep thinking that I can better Joe.* I keep saying that I can see what God's doing and how I'm starting to be able to lay it all down, but it's a LIE! I just can't seem to be able to. My pride won't let me. So I sit and think up what I can subtly work into a conversation and crap like that. Joe sees right through my cleverness, too, so it doesn't even work.

I'm not patient enough to let God work. I pray to be filled with the Holy Spirit because if you're filled with the Spirit then you'll bear the fruit of the Spirit, such as patience. But I'm not patient at all with God!!! He's GOD, for crying out loud!! He's worked many miracles. Surely it wouldn't hurt Him to just hurry up and fix things already. I'm sick to death of having to take a handful of pills every day just to function. I'm sick of worrying. I'm just sick of everything.

But as I sit here, this verse (Isaiah 38:17) keeps coming to mind:

Surely it was for my benefit that I suffered such anguish.
In your love you kept me from the pit of destruction;
You have put all my sins behind your back.

And there you go. If God just granted my wishes then I would forget all about Him. But because He loves me, I suffer. Because when I suffer, I turn to Him. And when I turn to Him, I am healed and able to glorify Him. Because, prideful, sinful wretch that I am, He loves me. Really, truly loves me and wants an intimate relationship with me. I have been chosen by name, before the formation of the world, to be His.

And that's enough for me.



*Note to Joe: I am very sorry for two things. 1. That I am such a manipulative, controlling wench, and 2. For airing this out on my blog. I LOVE YOU.

I've Got This

So I've been slightly stressed out this week. It's just been a Bad week. A yesterday-I-cracked-and-started-weeping-openly-in-front-of-people kind of week. And unfortunately, Lou's been in her "Why? Why? Why? Why?" mode this week.

It hasn't been pretty.

But last night, Joe and I were playing with Lou while Banana was asleep, and I had a lot of fun. We played beauty parlor and they made my hair so...beautiful? And then we built a fort on our bed because the lions and elephants were going to get us. It was great, memory-making kind of fun. The kind where you just should've been there.

But today when I woke up, I was back to being grouchy and irritable. And I kept coming down too hard on Lou. But I was like a speeding train. I just couldn't stop. I was on an important phone call when Lou walked in eating a bag of cereal. I told her not to carry around the bag and to wait just a minute and I'd get her a bowl. I walked into my room and quickly finished my call and yelled out to see if she still needed a bowl. Her response? "No. I've got this, Mom."

Now, if any of you ever hear her say "I've got this," you should be worried. It's kinda like the redneck saying, "Hey guys, watch this!" You know nothing good is about to happen. Normally, she's either holding a pitcher of kool-aid or has Banana's poopy diaper off. So when I heard her say that, the alarms went off. She had gotten a huge bowl and had poured almost the whole bag of cereal into it, and she and Banana were sitting next to it, munching away.

You should have seen the look on her face. It was that look where you knew that she just wanted to be invisible. But instead of yelling at her, I did a strange thing: I laughed. Who cared if she had poured out all the cereal? It just felt good to laugh and to hug my girls. I get so caught up in the dredges of every day life that I forget to enjoy it. I go through the same routine every day, just waiting for the next hour because then it'll be ____ time. But Lou is so mischievous right now and so sweet and so wonderful and so full of life and love and energy, and I'm missing it because I'm caught up in my prison.

This afternoon we just had fun. We caught a firefly and a frog, we read books, we played, we made Banana giggle hysterically, and we giggled hysterically. It was great. Lou must have told me she loved me a hundred thousand times. Thank you, God, for giving me two of the greatest kids on earth! Thank you for using them to help free me. Thank you for loving me even more than I love them. I pray that tomorrow will be as good as today was.

I just hope that I've got this.

Confessions of a Semi-pissed-off Blogger

I haven't blogged in a while and I'll tell you why. It's starting to become not fun. Oh, the writing is fun. Having my mom and best friends read it is fun. What's not fun is wading through the muck and mire of people's assumptions, beliefs, and opinions about said blog. At first, it was freeing. But now, I feel weighed down. Any time someone says anything about my style of blog or about the type of people who blog, I feel attacked, even if the person was just making a glib comment.

But I still feel like I need to blog, like I'm supposed to blog. And I'm not trying to be arrogant about it. Am I proud of it? Absolutely. Do I like it when people like what I've written? Absolutely. Do I think that my words will have some sort of profound affect on someone? Not really. Do I still secretly hope that they do? Absolutely.

I started this blog because I wanted people to learn about the "real me." I want to be open and honest. I don't want to hide anymore. I am SO sick of hiding. But I'm beginning to learn that honesty scares people or, at least, leaves them unsettled. We take comfort in our lies. We put on a mask and say "Oh, everything's fine," even when it's not. We expect other people to tell us that same lie when we ask how someone is doing. We're too afraid of what others will think. I am. But I'm trying desperately to break free of the lies that are shackling me. John 8:32 says, "Then you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free." I'm hoping it will.

I've been confessing a lot recently. And I'm liking it. Turns out that all of these deep, dark secrets that have been festering in my mind and overtaking me really aren't so scary in the light. People have been a lot more supportive than I ever gave them credit for. I'm refusing to give the devil a stronghold anymore. He's been using my shame against me for far too long.

But now I'm feeling a new kind of war emerging in it's place. The Blogging War. (Da-da-duuum!)

The truth is this: I'm scared to hit the "Publish Post" button. I'm afraid of the debate it'll start, even if it's a quiet debate, one that's whispered about instead of an out-and-out showdown. I enjoy reading all kinds of blogs, from deep personal ones to randomness, even ones that I don't really understand a whole lot about (like my friend's blog about his car he's fixing up.)

I'm going to keep being open and honest in my blog. I'm sorry if what I have to say offends anyone. If you want to read it, that's great! If you don't, well, that truly is fine, too. (Except for my mother. You have to read it.) I'm not planning to stop blogging any time soon. I just like the look of my words too much.


UPDATE: You guys are all really sweet! I've gotten lots of really encouraging messages and emails and I've only had this up for a few hours! Thanks!!

Trust

I really hate rainy days with two kids and no car. I can't send Lou out to play and since my car is in the shop, I can't even take the girls anywhere. In other words, I'm trapped. And they know it, too. I finally got Lou in bed for quiet time, and just as I shut her door, Banana woke up crying. There goes my nap. And now with Banana army-crawling everywhere, I'm having to be on the constant alert for random small Lou toys that seem to multiply overnight. These are the types of days that leave me overwhelmed. I feel like I can't catch a break.

Someone today called me a "mommy hero." I wish. Mommy heros don't get overwhelmed by rainy days. They have their life together. Or at least know how and when to surrender it all to the Lord. I struggle with that, especially when it comes to my life and the lives of those I love. Surrender requires trust. My trust has been so broken and bruised that I find myself not even knowing how to trust God sometimes.

But when I do, good things happen.

A couple of posts ago, I asked how to know if God was speaking to you. Well, yesterday, I heard from Him directly. And now that it's all over, I don't know how I knew it was Him, but I just knew.

Here's what happened: Joe and I were out fishing with the girls. While fishing is supposedly a "relaxing" pursuit, it was anything but that yesterday. Joe was grumpy and it was making me grumpy. Long story short, Joe said some things to me and I took offense, got angry, said my own things, and stormed off. And of course this happened about an hour before we were to go to marriage counseling. (Which we obviously need.) As I was walking off, Joe texted me and told me to reschedule the counseling because he no longer wanted to go. I stayed mad for a few minutes and sulked. Finally, I began to pray. I asked God what I was supposed to do. And then I heard Him.

And I really didn't like what He said.

He told me to apologize. I asked why, because it was Joe being the hurtful jerk, not me. And He told me that my attitude was bad, too, and to apologize for my reaction. I asked Him if I really had to, and the answer was so clear and so emphatic: YES.

Sighing, I said, "Ok, God. You know what I should do better than I do." So I walked back over to Joe and sincerely apologized. He looked dumbfounded for a moment then apologized too. We packed up, took the girls to my parents, then went to counseling.

Afterward, Joe and I were talking about our fight. He said, "I couldn't believe it when you came over and apologized. You have no idea how much it meant to me. That's why I decided to go on to counseling with you." At this point, I had to confess that I had divine prodding.

But the point I'm trying to make is this: when God spoke, I had to trust that He knew what He was doing. It went against everything I was feeling at the moment. In my flesh, I would've preferred to have stayed angry. I felt I had the right to. But I had to surrender to God.

And I'm glad I did.

The Chicken of Depression

It's been awhile since I've seriously posted anything. The reason is two-fold. First, I had been visited by the Chicken of Depression again. Although, ironically, a bluebird family has made it's nest in a tree in our yard, but anytime I yell at them to come bring me happiness, they just fly away.

Stupid birds.

And secondly, because I felt that the Lord was trying to tell me something but I just wasn't sure what. I'm still not sure exactly, but I'm feeling like I'm beginning to get the gist of it.

Over the course of the last few weeks, I have been reading and hearing a lot about giving. Far too many times to be merely coincidences. But I wasn't sure what it was all about. I knew it wasn't about money. So what else? My time? My all? So I prayed that God would show me what He wanted from me.

I keep praying that God will give me strength, both to fight the depression and the lies that are so convincingly whispered in my ear until they seem like truth, but also to face the day-to-day challenges of being a stay-at-home mom with 2 kids under 3.

Those that know me will know that my housekeeping skills leave something to be desired. Those that know my husband know that's what he greatly desires. Hence, we have issues. In fact, most of our marriage strife is related to the state of the house. It affects both of our moods. Some of you are probably thinking, "Well, if it's that important to you both, then clean the house." On paper, that seems like the easy solution. In real life, I'm exhausted. I'm already mentally beat-down. Knowing that when Joe comes home from work, he's going to be upset because the house is a disaster zone, leaves me overwhelmed and unable to cope with life.

From the outside, I'm sure I seem whiny. Plenty of people are able to raise kids and keep a clean house. I'm not one of those. I feel as though I try. Most days, I feel as though I've given it my all. And this is where we come back to giving.

So is God telling me that I'm not giving enough? Should I suck it up and keep giving even more of me? The world would tell me that I need to take time for me. Even Christians would tell me the same thing. I can come up with a dozen excuses off the top of my head why I can't do a particular thing. And while the reasons are valid, is my attitude?

I feel like the Israelites wandering around in the desert. God kept showing them His wonder and majesty, providing for them, caring for them. But yet, they grumbled and complained. Sure, at times they would praise God and worship Him. But then they also kept saying how they would rather be back in bondage in Egypt because there they had meat and good fruits and veggies. They wanted the best of both worlds.

Is that what I'm doing? God keeps showing me His very real and personal love, yet I complain because things aren't exactly how I want them. I pray for strength, but I get upset when I have to use it. I pray for deliverance, but I get upset when I'm delivered because it's so much easier to be depressed and not care then to have to face the world and its troubles.

God will pour out His grace in perfect measure every day that I ask. But what have I done to be ready to receive it? How much more do I really have to give? Have I just put a mental block on what I consider to be my limit? Or is there really more that I can give? When can I say, "Ok. I need a break." Is it on days like today when the darkness seems to be closing in and I just don't care anymore? But I'm battling depression. I have a lot of these days. Or should I pray and prepare myself to receive God's grace and struggle though and keep on giving?

These are the questions I'm still seeking answers to. I'll let you know when I figure them out.

How do you know?

I've been sitting here trying to think of a good segue into a question I need to ask, and to be honest, I can't think of one. So I'm just going to jump in with both feet.

How do you know when the Holy Spirit is talking to you?

I've been struggling with this question over the last couple of days. Even though I've been saved for most of my life, I've only been truly growing in Christ for a couple of months. I talked to my mom about it some tonight, but I really want to know what it's like for you. Is it the same for everybody? I'm full of doubts, my mind is in turmoil. How do I know if it's Him and not my own wishing or conclusions? I know that if it goes against scripture, it's not Him. But I hear people say, "When God speaks to you, you'll know," but then I also hear, "I didn't realize what He was wanting me to do until it was too late." So if you recognize His voice, do you always know what He wants, or is that the second part of the riddle?

I keep reading and hearing about the exact same thing. My mom says that it's no coincidence, that it's God telling me something. The only problem is, I'm not exactly sure what. When I felt God's presence earlier this year, I KNEW it was Him and I knew what he was promising. Of that, I was sure. But I have a feeling that God's not going to come at me with a bullhorn every time He speaks to me. I need to learn how to listen. I'm trying, but I'm still not sure of what I'm hearing. I don't want to figure it out too late.

So for those who are older and wiser in your faith, I would really love it if you would tell me your thoughts on this matter. If you don't want to leave me a comment, please feel free to shoot me an email. And hopefully, I'll figure it all out soon. =)

This Little Wallflower

I am what some would call a "wallflower." I much prefer to be on the sidelines (actually, somewhere at the top of the stands.) I really don't want to stand out or be noticed. Sometimes I feel like a coward. Even with this blog, I am able to hide in the anonymity of the internet. If someone chanced upon this, they wouldn't have a clue who I am.

So why am I baring my soul to all of you and letting you in on some of my most personal thoughts and struggles?

In Acts 1:8, Jesus says, " 'You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be My witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.' "

So what does this have to do with me? Well, this is my testimony. I'm trying to show everyone how God can transform a life. How He can take a poor, wretched creature like myself and find the beautiful in me. And how He can use even me, the pitiful wallflower that I am. Through the power of the internet, these words have the potential to reach people, to touch them. They can traverse the distances and go to the ends of the earth. I already know I have one loyal follower in Japan.

I am not ashamed of my faith in the Lord God Almighty. He has rescued me and set me free. I want others to see Jesus in me. I don't want to be the wallflower in this. I want to shine with His glory. I want others to say, "Wow. I want what she has."

God is healing me, day by day. Thank you, Jehovah-rapha!! You are the Healer and I praise Your mighty name!

Maybe

Wow. What this blog is becoming is not at all what I intended. I had planned on it being a lighthearted anecdotal account of the random things my child does. But I'm finding that I actually really like blogging about deep, personal issues.

At church today, the pastor was talking about storing up treasures in Heaven and judgment for believers. One of the points he was making was that we are going to be judged based on our use of spiritual gifts. He said that everyone has one. I was sitting there thinking to myself, "What in the world is mine? How can I put it to good use if I don't even know what it is?"

Fast forward to this afternoon when I'm forcing my mom to read my post from yesterday. I'm asking her what she thinks and she says that God has given me a gift. So maybe this really is my gift. I'm not sure if writing is considered a spiritual gift or not, but right now I'm going to take it. I'm about to make a confession. I like it when people like what I write. But if this is my spiritual gift, then I sincerely pray that God will use it to touch other people and that all glory goes to Him.

Some of you know the story of my life over these last few months when I was BROKEN. Some of you don't. Well, sadly for your curiosity, this is not the post in which all the details are spilled out. Maybe one day. Anyways, let me just say this. I have never known what it felt like to be broken like this, mentally and spiritually. I was suicidal. I have been saved for most of my life, but I have never truly felt the presence of God until I was in the midst of the most traumatic part of my life. When I finally got on my face before God and cried out to Him, He was there. Until your soul has been caressed by the Holy Father and you know what it feels like to have Him tell you that everything is going to be okay and you feel His overwhelming love wash over you...well, you don't know what you're missing.

During all of the turmoil and strife happening in my mind and in my life at this time, He was there, promising me that I would be healed, my family would be healed, my marriage would be healed, my life would be healed. I still daily cling to that promise. Right now as I'm typing, tears are running down my face, yet peace is within my heart. As things began to improve, I told my mom that I fully believed that one of the positive things that was going to come out of this hurt I was having was my testimony. I know that God is using my life so that others will see His glory.

So how does this relate back to spiritual gifts? Well, I'm hoping that God is going to use what I write to touch someone. That if this is, in fact, my gift, that I use it to the fullest. I'll be honest here. Some days are better than others. Some days, I feel close to Him, basking in His presence. But some, a war is still raging inside my mind. Those days, I feel close to giving in, giving up. But I daily pray for Him to give me a holy hunger and thirst for His righteousness. I want to be consumed by Him. And He is answering my prayer. I just have to be willing and ready to receive it when He pours it out.

Green Beans

So we've planted a vegetable garden. (I say we, what I mean is Joe. Although I did help carry the ridiculously heavy railroad ties and I shoveled dirt, so that counts, right?) Anyways, this morning during the storm, Lou comes running up to me and yells, "Mom! It's raining on our green beans! We have to make the rain stop!" I'm not sure where I'm going with this story, except that it cracked me up.

Moving on, my mom is teaching a Sunday school class at her church and the workbook that they're doing is "Living Your Life as a Beautiful Offering" by Angela Thomas. I also have a copy of it and am doing it at my own pace. If you haven't had the opportunity to do this workbook, you're missing out. Every lesson seems to be God-sent. It has really, really touched me. Thursday had been miserable. Beyond miserable. I will spare you the gory details, but I was in spiritual turmoil. I went to bed not really wanting to do my Bible study, but something inside told me that it would be a really good idea to do the next lesson. It was all about finding Jesus peace. Again God spoke to me and touched me.

John 16:33 says,
I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.

Wow! Thank you, God!! In You, I can overcome my depression. In You, I can find joy. In You, I can find peace.
In my previous post, I wrote about surrendering to God. Some days, it takes a few mistakes before this particular lesson sinks in. I often feel like it's one step forwards, two steps back. I feel like I'm changing so much inside and I get aggravated that other people aren't or at least not as quickly as I am. I want to go up and shake them and say, "Why?! Why are you still acting like this?!" And then I have to remember to surrender everything to God. He's in control, not me. As much as I sometimes want to be, as much as I sometimes try to be, I cannot be. It's frustrating, yet humbling. Mainly frustrating. Going against the popular saying, He actually is probably going to give me more than I can handle. Why? Because He wants me to run back to Him, every single day. And THROUGH Him, I can do it. But not without Him. And when I come crawling back, begging for His forgiveness and mercy, I know one thing: God is NOT going to forsake me. He will pour down His tender mercy and love, and give me peace.

Serenity Now!

As long as I can remember, my mom has had a plaque with the "Serenity Prayer" on it. (It also has a picture of a goose on it, which never seemed very serene to me. Incidentally, as a small child, Joe was apparently attacked by a goose, which I think is somewhat hilarious, at least until I get near one now and worry about the safety of my own kids.) Anyways, turns out the plaque only had part of the prayer on it. The full prayer goes like this:

God,

Grant me the serenity

To accept the things I cannot change;

The courage, to change the things I can;

And the wisdom, to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;

Enjoying one moment at a time;

Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;

Taking, as You did, this sinful world

As it is, not as I would have it;

Trusting that You will make all things right

If I surrender to Your Will;

So that I may be reasonably happy in this life

And supremely happy with You

Forever and ever in the next.

I've heard the first part of this prayer so many times it's lost all meaning for me. But when I read the prayer in it's entirety, it just knocked the breath out of me. As some may know, I've been battling severe depression recently. I have been taking everything on me. If the kids are being bad, it's because I'm a failure as a mother. If Joe does something stupid, it's because I'm a failure as a wife. If I mess up, well, it's expected because I'm a failure as a person. If my family is not perfectly happy all the time, it's my fault. But reading this, the word "reasonably" really jumped out at me. I'm beginning to realize that it's ok to have bad days. Happiness is a state of mind. What I'm longing for and beginning to embrace is joy. I can BE joyous in God, wrapped in His arms and in His embrace, even (or maybe especially) when I'm at my lowest point. I shouldn't expect to be happy-go-lucky all the time. I'm human, my family is human. But if every morning when I wake up, I fully surrender to God and say, "Ok. What do you have in plan for me today?" then that's when I am going to find my long-sought-after joy. As Kirk said (and I'm paraphrasing here, so forgive me if I'm getting it wrong), when, in your brokenness, God comes in to fix you, he's not coming in with a band-aid and a little bit of plaster. He's coming in with a sledgehammer and He's going to tear down and rebuild everything in you better and stronger than before. And that's what he's doing. And right now, every day I have to surrender. I can't do it on my own.
So from now on, this blog is going to be about the happy parts of my day. I'm going to focus on the good things, like how adorable Lou was this morning when she woke up with her hair still in pigtails from yesterday. And how Joe was able to take his Birthday Day at work today and stay at home with me again today. Yay! Well, the girls are taking naps so I'm going to go curl up with my wonderful hubby and watch a movie.

The Beginning

Where to begin? I like the idea of blogging, but to actually put my thoughts and feelings out there for others to view and judge is exceptionally terrifying. I'm a natural introvert, but I feel as though it might be time to start slowly coming out of my shell. I'm hoping that this can be a release for me, a place to let my true voice be heard. Very few people know the real me. Sometimes, I feel as though I don't even know the real me. I'm hoping to find myself again. I'm hoping to entertain you with my delightful charm and wit. I'm hoping you don't think I'm a bad parent when I tell you that my kid pooped on my sidewalk because she was bored. All in all, there's a whole lotta hoping going on right now.
So again, where to begin? I guess I'll start with telling you about me and mine. I'm 26 years old and have been married to the love of my life for 8 years now. I am a stay at home mom to our two gorgeous, delightful, outstanding, intelligent, wonderful girls. To protect the innocent, I shall refer to them by my pet names for them, Lou and Banana. Lou is almost 3 and Banana is 6 months. Banana's personality is just starting to come through and she's a sweetie and a half! Always happy (as long as Mama's around!) and her face just lights up when her big sister comes dancing into the room. Lou is a mess pot and a firecracker. She is incredibly strong-willed and spicy, but so loving and empathetic. Highly intelligent and highly inquisitive, she makes sure our life is never calm or boring! Fairy wings are standard and her best friend Bunny is never too far from her side.
So, there's the basics. Welcome to my blog and I hope you enjoy the ride!