Nov 172016
 

My mom is back to work and she seems to be enjoying being out again, its nice to see her happy, though she is tired after nearly 5 months of waiting in pain before a surgery and then 6 weeks of recovery.

Since we all live together I had planned to clean the house for her this week, you know, the deep clean that no one really enjoys, but needs done regardless. Instead, we’ve been dealing with a child who has mono, another with a broken wrist and now I have been sick for the last 4 or 5 days.



{My Snuggle Chicken this week after a nap!}

I felt bad today when she couldn’t enjoy her day off because she had to clean the bathroom and sweep and mop and do it all carefully so cleaner smells wouldn’t choke me and cause a major coughing fit, she even washed my sheets that I changed the other day but didn’t have the energy to wash and dry. I almost cried when she told me today that my sheets needed folded and were in the dryer today.

I am definitely feeling blessed that even though I am sick and my lungs are literally itchy and my tonsils are swollen tight, that I have parents who are helping me and kids who are being fed while I am sleeping life away trying to heal up so I can enjoy life again soon!



{Cloudy Sunset}

I’ve been so blessed by Plexus products that have prevented me from getting REALLY sick in the past two years and that have also allowed for me to enjoy foods I love, make healthier choices and be free from worrying every flu season. So I really can’t complain too much about this bug considering. Pretty sure that my 4 trips to the hospital with kids and 3 trips to the clinic with the kids has been the germs that decided to attack.

Yet, we still enjoyed the times. Sitting in the hospital late into the night (and early morning) and having a friend bring coffee and donuts for me and the girl child as we waited to find out what was wrong. The jokes told about janitors pretending to be doctors -by our family doctor no less and getting to spend extra time with my kiddos as they mend.

Once you have teens the affection is hard to come by, but when they are injured or sick they tend to need their mama’s and while I wish neither were suffering I have to selfishly admit that I have enjoyed these past weeks of bonding in waiting rooms!!

Oct 212016
 

Lately, I have become one of those people who takes up two or three parking spaces without a care in the world. I think that makes me the person who frustrates me the most!? This tiredness is giving me this nonchalant attitude of simply not caring, and I don’t like how it is changing me.

I want to do everything in a manner that brings glory to God and yet I don’t have the energy, so what kind of Christian does this make me? Is He meeting me in the parking lot and whispering in my ear that it’s okay to park crazy as long as I park safely or is He looking down and shaking His head at this broken child and saying that I have fallen and fallen hard?

When will He answer my prayer and refill my energy supply? When will my psyche realize that I am not psycho and that less is better than more? Will I realize it when He whispers into my itchy, fluid filled ears that I am enough?

Or, are these truths that I already know but refuse to admit to myself?

I need to park myself down and have a true Sabbath. A day of rest. A day to live love and absorb the world, the Word. A day where I don’t think about tomorrow and simply live in His grace and in the faith I have that He already has tomorrow planned and worked out so that I don’t have to be enslaved to the calendar or a list.

I need to create the habit of a weekly Sabbath for myself. I would LOVE to know how you do this so you don’t burn out like me!?

Oct 202016
 

I’ve reached this sort of burn out that I didn’t know I could get if I wasn’t post-partum. This exhaustion that cuts into the marrow of my bones and sucks me dry. A weekend, the kind where you relax and have happy family time isn’t in the foreseeable future, but when is it when you have teens?

Between teens wandering off and sports I am beginning to believe I live in the car. My autoimmune issues are in a constant flare-up, my allergies are beginning to feel like a disease and I have literally dangled by my hair from the seatbelt trying to escape the all-wheel drive jail cell.

I should be grateful for all that I have, and in actual fact, I am. I know that I have far more blessings than so many people in this world but that doesn’t change that I am falling asleep everywhere, not sleeping when I need to, and have a to-do list a mile long with worry on my mind and pain in my soul.

I actually look forward to a Monday now because that means the hectic weekend is over and that I can check off some of those boxes and try to detox my soul by sinking into the Word while allowing it to sink into me.

Don’t ever ask a stay at home mama what she does all day, because it is really exhausting, even if you are healthy.

Oct 062016
 

You look at me with cupped hands
Your thumbs wipe away the tears that slip from my eyes without my permission
You whisper ‘baby it’s okay’
And, I know it will be.

Because, You created this day.
You knew the saltine water that would spill from my eyes
You knew as I struggled to catch my breath the word to escape my lips would be ‘sorry’
I have no reason to be sorry, I am Yours.

I grip onto Your hands and feel the holes in broken flesh and know that my scars are Yours
That as you hung on the cross You were working to purify and heal my inevitable sins.
With the flash of a light You knew from the start that this is how love would truly begin.
And, the Earth trembled as the Father eagerly awaited You at those Holy gates.

I wait on my charges just the same.
That they would walk through the door with lessons learned, full of Love and soul-y unscathed
I have to place their hands in Yours because it is You who holds life’s script
Like me, I know they too will trip.

You reach out that broken-scarred hand and raise us up from the depths
You show us that blind-faith is the only faith
That the answers are predestined, defined
That Your ordination is Love of the purest kind.

A compilation of 150 blog posts from the Five Minute Friday Community. The stories found in these pages span a diverse range of experiences, but share a common thread: A Love For the Bravely Written Word.
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Jul 182016
 

I had no date this weekend, meaning, me and my boy didn’t go out together. He did go and play tennis with his uncle though. I have never seen two peas in a pod until I see those two. They read the same books, play the same games, fight over the broccoli, love the same sports and even wear their hair the same -shaved. The only real difference is about 16 years. It is nice that my little man gets to have man time with someone who pushes him and encourages him, even when they both come home starving and sweaty.


My back pain has been brutal this past month. I don’t know what’s going on with my body. Pain meds aren’t touching the pain much, just making me feel semi-stoned, and the feedback on that from family is “you are seriously annoying” and “can you please talk slower?” I have no desire to go to the doctor or wait on new tests or to try new meds… I feel so over all of this, throwing in the towel really feels like the best option right now. Just saying screw it to my body and continuing to try and be active on days I can be, take care of myself the way I have been and taking my supplements.

I started an old antidepressant again. I quit it back in February but with my emotions being so whacked and my pain being so crazy we decided to try it again, since it not only helps with the insanity but is also proven to be helpful with some types of pain. The parts that suck though is that it is another medication. I take sooo many pills every day not including my supplements or pain killers and it’s just frustrating. I want to be off of my meds so I can get pregnant and not worry about hurting a baby, or travel without worrying about refills, or worrying about whether or not I should be driving. I miss normalcy, though, I don’t think I have ever actually had normal. I have always had pain, starting when I was about 12 and I have struggled with my mental health since I was raped when I was 12, though, I never began medications until I had post partum depression and then really started meds when I was diagnosed with PTSD after escaping a severely insane relationship.

Jul 092016
 

I worried that no news was bad news, because it usually is. I had resolved to the fact that it would be a few days waiting and we had grilled hot dogs and smokies for dinner and then went to the new Pets movie at the theatre. My date being my 12 year old and my 14 year old being to good to sit anywhere near us. We sat in the front row, it seems to be becoming our spot, and he carried the Pepsi and I carried the popcorn to our seats and we laughed at minions mowing the lawn and swatted hands a few times in an attempt to make the popcorn last through the movie, always with a smile on our face. The theatre was full, like REALLY full, I guess going on opening night isn’t a good idea. Lesson learned.

Got home to see the bad news I had resolved to was actually good news and a sigh of relief escaped my lips. I am so used to bad news that I have come to expect it.

My pain level was through the roof and I didn’t want to say anything, but I knew I had too. I finally went to bed around 4am, still plagued by pain and knowing that relief was not going to come.

Today I woke up at around 9:30 and finally rolled out of bed at 10 when the dog was begging with complete urgency to go out. The pain still wracking my body, causing me to tremble and shake. Nausea sweeping over me like a tsunami as my body struggles to adjust to whatever this “normal” is.

I stood outside this afternoon as I dared to eat for the first time. Fresh oatmeal with real cinnamon, a spoon of brown sugar and a little bit of organic soy milk for even more protein power. I wonder why people buy the instant pre-flavoured stuff when making it on your own is so quick and so much healthier!?

The boy child was hiking or playing tennis today with his uncle. I have never seen two people fitting the “two peas in a pod” analogy better than they do. They just walked in the door, water bottles in tow, after a long afternoon of being active. I wish I could bare the heat the way they can. Clearly, I am a winter girl. Which totally explains why I rarely even wear a jacket come the minus 40 months.

Homemade potato salad is in the fridge and fresh burgers and buns from our favorite baker are ready to go on the grill in an hour or so. I am hoping the grey sky doesn’t turn to rain, but if it does my tomato and strawberry plants will go another day without me having to drag out the hose to water them. I have enough spearmint to make tea for the neighbourhood, including all the horses, I am definitely not complaining and I think they will be a fun plant to grow over the winter in the house too!

Encouraging comments on my last post have lifted me up a lot. I am definitely still not where I would like to be mentally but I am also not where I was, which is always an amazing blessing! I am not looking for perfection, only progress.

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

~”WILD GEESE”

by Mary Oliver”

Jun 252016
 

Tears are the pain my soul displays when it has nowhere else to go

Pain are the words my soul speaks, the black shroud that makes the dimmest of stars blindingly bright

I’ve needed a rest from words lately. A lot of rest. I don’t know why, maybe because I was diving deep in search of words for so much of the winter and spring.

It is exhausting to go into yourself, into the darkened depths where you have everything chaotically stashed away in mounds that would give a librarian a heart attack. Much like the wall of post-it notes that only an author can decipher and turn into a grand story.

Only life isn’t a post-it and no matter how big they decide to make those sticky sheets it won’t all fit and the darkness will creep over like fog over a marsh when the mercury rises, blanketing over the muck with a reflective dew that disappears with the rising sun and somewhere along the broken road you place your hand in the palm of the Son who has risen and you simply rest.


And yet here I am with the thunder booming in the background and the lightening flashing down on a blackened earth and my fingers are tapping away the thoughts that linger in my head and fear greets me in places I had forgot existed and I wonder who I really am?

Am I the child that hopped from rock to rock over snail infested ponds to find a place to sit and soak up the sun, the child who looked at metal barrels laying in the water 20 years ago and wondered why someone would do that to the earth?

Am I the adult who see’s a saltwater tank and grieves the loss of corals and anemones and secretly blames Finding Nemo for the tang’s and clown fish being stolen from our oceans just to beautify someone’s home?

Am I the girl who prays for the whales and the dolphins and has considered jumping ship just to land in the Antarctic whale sanctuary to protest, protect and fight for the whales whose song often falls on the ears of poachers?

Am I the 16-year-old girl who found herself pregnant and madly in love with a child growing within or am I the mother of that child whose smile is enough to light up any room and whose tears threaten to drown me because her pain are the nails through my hands and feet, the spear in my side. The pain a parent must bare in a twisted way so that their child can be fully alive?

Is that how my parents felt? Is that what Jesus told Himself as He felt the weight of His flesh tearing him apart, the sweat stinging into deepened wounds as the sins of the world separated the darkness and the light causing Him to cry out to God, “Father, why have You forsaken me?” before the sky turned angry and His flesh became Spirit?

And then there is my son, the child who nearly drowned drinking water because his laughter got the best of him and the water rushed into his lungs and sent those watching into a near panic and as he told the story he tells me “I wondered if Darin knew the Heimlich, when he pushed on my belly I knew he didn’t.” And I wonder why I worry more about the girl then I do my boy. Is that how it’s meant to be? That the boys can brave this broken world in a brotherly solidarity where the desire to protect outweighs their fear?



A world where your lungs fill with water and moments later you are playing football in the grass with a fire burning down in the background and your laughter and the sounds of your mother and your sister chatting are what fills your world because the moment you drowned you were also resurrected with a lesson learned?

Did my child really have me in stitches on the clouded, stormy ride home and did we almost hit that blur of a deer that for all I know could have been a golden shrub? Did he really just tell me that 50,000 of my cells die every day and that over the course of 7 years every cell in my body passes and has been replaced with one that is new and fresh? Did he just tell me that a sunburn hurts because the cells are protecting us from cancer and committing suicide so they don’t mutate?

How did you become so wise young children? Where did you learn these things and when? Why is it that I see so much of myself in your love for everything and then sometimes I look at you and don’t see me at all?


I am proud of you, both of you. Because you aren’t me and because you are pieces of me that I never allowed to develop and grow. You take big leaps and tiny steps and go where the wind blows, color outside of the lines and walk against the grain all at the same time. You are far more brave than I ever was or ever will be and I am so happy that you aren’t me. That you walk your own paths.

I love that you embrace conflict and hurt and pain because as the saying goes “no pain no gain” and I want you to gain. I want to see you suffer because that leads to growth. I want you to fear because that leads you to cling to the One who alleviates the need. I want you to love fully and be passionate and chase your calling, whatever it may be, whether it’s the Antarctic whale sanctuary where you take on the poachers of the world, or into a mission field learning a new culture and language and sharing your own journey with the world in the name of the One who saves you each and every day. Maybe your dream is to be a mom or a dad and never leave this small town and you want to plant your roots down deep and firm.

Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will be in the cheering section while simultaneously handing you to God, because while this may be your journey, He is the one who holds the map.

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