Loyd, You are Missed

There are children next door that my kids love to play with just about every day.  They know when the neighbors will usually be home and wait in anticipation for them.

I had a neighbor friend, too.  I'd constantly look over to see if he was out.  It would make my day when he was sitting on his carport.  I would cross the street, sit in a plastic chair and chat. When Loyd would see me coming, he was such a gentleman.  He would always stand up to make sure I had the most comfortable seat.  Our talks could last anywhere from 5 minutes to over an hour. 

Loyd was in his eighties, lonely after the death of his wife and uncertain of what his purpose was for still being here.  I'd often tell him that he was supposed to still be here, for those that were still in his life, including me-a new friend that wanted him here as long as possible.  

I tend to like talking with older individuals.  They are usually pretty honest, without pretension or hidden motive, reflective, and just...who they are.  Loyd was all of these things, and I loved it.  And it didn't matter to me that he never remembered my name.  He would often ask, saying he knew he had asked before, and we would make a joke about how my name reminded him the drink, gin and tonic.  He would ask the same questions and repeat a story several times during a visit.  I didn't mind this at all, because I knew he asked again, not because he wasn't paying attention or disinterested in the conversation, but because he truly couldn't remember that he had just heard the answer.  I also knew that he could remember some things, but they were fuzzy, and asking again helped clear up the picture.

Our chats were often about his early life.  I absolutely love hearing about someone's life, and Loyd was at the point where he was evaluating it all.  Thinking back over his younger years, he would get a spark in his eye, laugh telling old stories, and often say he knew he had probably told me before or apologize for talking so much.  I always told him to keep telling me.  I truly enjoyed the stories.  I liked to see him happy, and he would always include some new detail he hadn't shared previously.

Since Loyd lived right across the street, he became a fixture of how I view my home.  Now, after his passing, everywhere I look, I am hearing his voice.  He would often compliment our yard, talk about a tree that needs to be cut down near our house, remember his wife planting the ginormous crepe myrtle in their front yard and the pretty blue snowball bush he sat next to every day.  He loved fresh tomatoes, so I'd bring him some every few days.  I'd often turn around after I left to see him standing in the yard eating one like an apple.

I will keep hearing his voice in the years to come, and that makes me smile.  Every Summer when our large red hibiscus bush blooms, I will hear him talk about how pretty it is.  Every time I pet our cat in the driveway, I will hear him say how he sees our white cat and how he never sees her near the road.  When we go to the pool in the summers, I will hear his voice as he says he saw us get in the truck to go and how he used to be a lifeguard all around our area and several beaches.  Every time we mow the yard, I will hear him give us a compliment on how we keep it up.  When I go downtown, I will think of his stories of how it used to be and antics of his youth.  When I look at houses around a local lake, I will think of him talking about a house he owned there that he loved.  

I miss my friend.  I've been wondering why this loss has hit me so hard, and I think part of it is that I got to know Loyd better in 6 months, than many of us truly get to know one another in decades. Also, we both genuinely enjoyed being around one another.  We would sit and pet his cat in the sunshine-and just be still.  Loyd will always be a part of this home for me.  I do believe in providence, and I know that our time together was providential.  I pray he's at peace.  My heart aches seeing his empty chair, but I know it was his time to be elsewhere.

How EMDR Therapy Changed My Life- Part 2

 As my therapy recently concluded, I've been reflecting on the process.  It's been quite an extraordinary journey.  I started in a state desperate to change worn patterns that were like dusty, back country roads that had been traveled often but never repaired.  I finished soaring high above it all.

I've said this before, but it's worth saying again; not everyone is going to have the same experience or outcome.  I can relay what happened with me and hope and pray that perhaps it will help another in some way.  Yet, there are so many factors that come into play, and I can't praise God enough for his timing as far as where I was in my journey and the therapist provided.

The entire process was much like an onion peeling for me.  The initial sessions were not quite as difficult to peel off, but as we progressed, it took more effort  and intention.  It was more painful to break off the pieces.  Once we got to the center, the core-seed of my trauma- I thought perhaps I was done.  However, this seed needed to be dealt with.  This was heart wrenching involving days of sobbing off and on-can't catch your breath sort of weeping that pierces your soul.  It was intense, but absolutely necessary for my freedom.  The processing of the seed of it all, was it for me.  For now, at least.  

During my last session, my therapist asked me to process the journey as I held the sensors.  Being a very visual person, I saw the start as me walking along with heavy chains cascading behind me connected to large metal stocks that were on my shoulders with no visible means of coming off.  I saw myself trudging along, falling down, slipping into the mud, but still moving.  As I walked, some of the links would break off until eventually, all that was left were the stocks on me.  This was the core, the seed.  When this core trauma was processed, the stocks were gone.  I became a butterfly that flew to a beautiful sunflower that had arisen from this seed.  There were fragments from the seed lying around like plastic that wouldn't disintegrate.  They all gathered together to create a bowl full of water that I watered the sunflower with.  As a butterfly, I took the seeds from the sunflower and planted them in the barren field in front of it.  This produced more flowers, whose seeds were used to plant more flowers.  As this process continued, I saw myself sitting with the Master Gardener, Jesus.  Resting in him, admiring the field.  Enveloped in him.

This was the end of my EMDR journey.  So, what's the result?  I feel like a different person.  My emotions do not rule me.  I can think more clearly.  I can be hurt without always feeling anger immediately.  I can express myself verbally much better in difficult situations.  I am more confident, and I am more at peace than I have ever been in my life.

As I adjust to these new pathways, it's a little scary, but in an exciting way-without the looming darkness that I had grown accustomed to.  Life is an adventure now instead of a depressing drama or horror film.  I will always have memories, yet they are just memories now.  They don't hold a grip on my present reality.  They are a means to help provide life and hope.  That's my prayer.

The Lord bless and keep you; the Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.  

~Numbers 6:24-26

Family First

There’s more to life than feeling happy and blissfully unaware of the faults, failures and pain around us, whether that’s in our own homes or miles away.  Once this mindset is challenged, one can stop waking up every day thinking of what makes them feel good, even if that might seem selfless, and begin to be humbled, to take the gut blow to pride.   Because no matter the situation, you are not perfect.  We all have ways of acting and speaking that hurt others, that are based on insecurities and defense mechanisms.  Sure, it’s easy to place blame on others to protect the person we think we are while the real us is hold up inside thick castle walls.  We may even find that seemingly putting others first protects us from being seen or our pain and sadness exposed.

How do we get so far from introspection and self-analysis and so immersed in blame and criticism?  What a tangled web we weave and blame the murder on someone else.  We throw our hands up like we have no idea how or why people around us may act in a way that doesn’t fit the mold of propriety and decorum.  When, in reality, we have not really taken the time to listen to or see them because of our own selfishness.

May God have mercy on us.  We place ourselves, others, material things and power and position above him.  That’s the real issue.  We make gods of “good things” justifying it and getting whatever good feelings we can get.  The problem comes in when those good things can’t sustain us and disappoint us.  While this is good as it can lead us back to our God, some decide to ignore the fact that these things hurt them and keep reaching and striving for the things of this world to give them peace.  Or they are angry at the world, perpetually demanding what it can never give them. 

One such example, is family first.  That sounds great on the outside.  Be sure to put your family above all else.  Yet, this is going to lead to heartache, because you will never be able to satisfy and help your family in the manner that only God can.  They cannot give you fulfillment as Jesus Christ does.  We are his children above all else.  That’s who we are.  We are not first part of an earthly family.  This belief leads to disillusionment and protection of self and others in that system from being challenged by the truths of the Word.  We should never be putting anyone else on this planet on a pedestal, no matter their role in our lives.  Whatever good we have received from them, comes from Christ himself.   If we don’t see this, we will stunt the growth that can come within in a family when we bypass faults or hold back forgiveness.  We end up forgetting that our family members are human and not meant to be idolized.  We are not first earthly mother, father, brother, sister, husband, wife.  First, we are a child of God and brother, sister to our fellow believers.

We also often forget that peace comes by the sword.  We tend to want peace so we avoid conflict.  That’s not the way it goes.  Our sinful natures need to be challenged, exposed and humiliated.  We need family members to encourage growth in love.  Deception is often subtle and unspoken-as Satan wants it to be. 

Speak the Word.  Speak the truth.  Do not be silent and lead your family to damnation.  Remember, few enter the kingdom of heaven.  People don’t want to hear this about their sweet babies, but they are sinful, born bound for hell.  What they need to know is who they are in Jesus from the cradle to the grave.  They need baptism, faith, God’s Word, prayer, the fellowship of believers, and a focus on Christ above anyone or anything else.  If we model anything less, they will most likely follow.  Don’t assume, that politeness motived by fear for the sake of a “happy family” is going to lead them to heaven.  That just keeps us from having to have real conversations, protects our fear and leads to disconnection and distance.  Have the hard conversations.  Get to know the person God created them to be.  See your own faults and talk openly about them and God's mercy and grace toward us all. 

How EMDR Therapy Changed My Life

Definition

EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) is a psychotherapy that enables people to heal from the symptoms and emotional distress that are the result of disturbing life experiences.  Repeated studies show that by using EMDR therapy people can experience the benefits of psychotherapy that once took years to make a difference. It is widely assumed that severe emotional pain requires a long time to heal.  EMDR therapy shows that the mind can in fact heal from psychological trauma much as the body recovers from physical trauma.  When you cut your hand, your body works to close the wound.  If a foreign object or repeated injury irritates the wound, it festers and causes pain.  Once the block is removed, healing resumes.  EMDR therapy demonstrates that a similar sequence of events occurs with mental processes.  The brain’s information processing system naturally moves toward mental health.  If the system is blocked or imbalanced by the impact of a disturbing event, the emotional wound festers and can cause intense suffering.  Once the block is removed, healing resumes.  Using the detailed protocols and procedures learned in EMDR therapy training sessions, clinicians help clients activate their natural healing processes. ~www.emdr.com

EMDR boosts the brain’s capacity to access psychological pain, reprocess and integrate information that was previously stuck. EMDR does this by stimulating communication between the right brain (emotional brain) and the left brain (logical brain). This bilateral brain therapy provides a clinically proven alternative to processing difficult memories even when the individual is not yet able to express it in words.  ~https://www.atimetohealpsychotherapy.com/emdr-therapy

My Story

Before I started EMDR therapy I scoured the internet to find personal stories, and came across very little detail about actual sessions, methods and results.  I had heard about this type of therapy briefly, but usually the accounts were vague. While many associate EMDR primarily with single trauma PTSD or "big T" traumas, it can be useful for anyone that has experienced trauma.  After talking with friends who benefited personally from EMDR as well as hearing how others in the mental health field saw dramatic results with clients, I decided to give it a shot.  It couldn't hurt anything, right?  

Up to this point, I had done a lot to address my childhood trauma and subsequent consequences.  I got a master's degree in counseling.  I had participated in various forms of therapy and implemented techniques to calm the nerves that were constantly frayed.  I've done cognitive behavioral therapy, psychoanalytic therapy, spiritual counsel, marriage therapy, journaled, exercised regularly, done breathing exercises, taken medication, read my Bible, been active in church, had a mentor, been a mentor...you name it, I'd done it.

I was ready to keep moving forward, to keep healing and growing.  I continued to be triggered, what felt like constantly sometimes, beyond my control.  I was tired of primarily treating symptoms instead of getting to the root of the problem.  Sure, I could function in life.  I had figured out how to conceal a lot of the storm that raged inside when I was around others.  I couldn't contain it at home, though.

What was held inside out in public spewed out onto my husband and children.  This, above all else, was my motivation to keep trying, to keep plodding along though it felt as though I was in muddy quick sand.  Thank God for the realization found in those circumstances of how weak I am, how much help I need, and a motivation to press on for the life I knew God had promised to me as a believer through his Word.

I made an appointment with a trained EMDR therapist some friends recommended.  By that point, I was more than ready to try anything that could alleviate the intensity of daily life.  I was open, completely honest about myself, and willing to be vulnerable.  I was ready to step out of the fog I felt I'd been in my entire life.

The first few sessions were the typical "getting to know you" sessions where I explained my history.  I was very clear that I wanted to focus on EMDR as opposed to other forms of therapy since you know...been there, done that.

There are various ways to do EMDR.  I held "buzzers" in each hand.  These buzzers alternate vibrating in one hand and then the other.  Some people will hold these while looking at and following two fingers the therapist moves from left to right.  Some will follow a light (my therapist's was blue) back and forth on a horizontal light bar.  I am extremely visual and get distracted by the movement, so I would close my eyes.

Before the buzzers start, we discuss where to begin.  There is often a triggering event that causes an intense emotional reaction.  For example, I am often triggered by last minute plans being made.  I will feel a sense of powerlessness, fear and panic.  When we start the session, we discuss the triggering event and the feelings associated with it.  The therapist asks me how intense the feelings are from 1-10.  Usually mine are 7-10.  The goal is to process the event/feelings so that the intensity is down to a 1 or 2.  The therapist will check in to see where I'm feeling tension after describing the triggering event.  For me, there is often tension in my neck, tightness in my throat and chest, and a feeling like I'm on a roller coaster in my stomach.  Sometimes, there is lethargy and exhaustion.

My therapist then starts the buzzers, and I close my eyes focusing on those feelings and thinking about the first time I felt those things.  For the above example, I was taken back to the time when I found out abruptly about a possible major move that would drastically change my life.  I happened to overhear it was going to happen without my knowledge or say, and I would have to go along with it.  This is when the feelings began. 

The buzzers go on for 30 seconds to a minute.  Once they stop, I open my eyes and tell my therapist things I thought, felt or "saw".  Once I tell her, she asks if I could stay with it.  She asks this, because the process can be extremely emotional and some people need a break if they feel overwhelmed.  

For the above example, I closed my eyes again with the buzzers going and was able to see this memory clearly as well as feel the hopelessness and sadness associated with it.  Often, I will feel things I did not feel when I should have as a child.  Perhaps not being able to process these feelings when I was younger is why they found any means they could to get out as an adult, making my reactions extremely intense.  People often say children are resilient when really, children don't feel they are allowed to express how they feel because they are protecting the adults around them.

The therapist will repeat the process of stopping the buzzers and process what I thought, felt and saw until there is resolution.  Resolution comes for me in spiritual terms.  In the above example, I saw how the path that was safe and secure was underneath the memory that was so unsteady.  I saw my path with Christ, walking hand in hand with him.  I found a sense of empowerment, ease and peace as I envisioned walking my true path with Christ.  The session is ended with going to your safe place.  My "safe place" is the hand of God.  This is where I go in my mind at the end of each session being held by God.  

There are times when I want to start with the traumatic memory.  We will process it the same way but somewhat in reverse.  It can take more than one session to fully process a triggering event and/or memory.  One issue took 3 sessions for me.  Often, I am surprised by the memory that is associated with my triggers.  Sometimes, I will leave the session feeling like I ran a marathon and be wiped out for the rest of the day.  Once, I found myself having more anxiety for a day or so.  Sometimes, I don't have any physical reactions.  There have been several occasions where I've come home and wept as the reality of the situation continues to be processed and I am not holding in feelings anymore.  I have remembered things that I didn't fully remember before, vividly, as if I was there.  This can be heartbreaking, but also cathartic.  

I have been doing EMDR for 4 months, and I will probably continue for several more months.  I could tell a difference in my reaction to specific triggers after the first session. Within a few sessions my husband could tell a difference, and after several months, I don't act the same at all.  I am able to be myself, and this is something he has to get used to as well.  He doesn't have to worry as much about how I will react if he says or does something that triggers me.  We feel like we are able to connect and converse as we should.  I have found that I'm actually able to think through situations without the tidal wave of emotion demanding center stage.  When I do start to get intense, the turnaround is much quicker.  Both sides of my brain are communicating, and I feel more whole.

If you or a loved one has any sort of trauma that negatively impacts your life, I highly recommend talking to a professional about this type of therapy.  It may not be right for you, or it may not be the right time, but it's definitely something to keep on the radar.  For me, it's as if 10-20 years worth of work has been done in a few months, and I have never felt more peace, joy and contentment.

10 Things Your Mother Never told you about Marriage

I think many of us never had a specific conversation with adults in our lives about what marriage really looks like.  I hear many people say that they had no idea what marriage would actually entail.  They only knew of a dream.  Once they got married, they were unprepared for what life would be like.  I was definitely one of those people.

I have two young daughters, who may or may not get married one day.  I don't want them to enter into marriage with idealistic fantasies that will cause pain.  There are things I hope to say to them that will help if they do choose to marry.

1.) Marriage is not a fairy tale.

Though the princess movies portray a handsome, young man saving you from dire situations and whisking you away to a beautiful castle to be happy forever, this is not reality.  Marriage means juggling finances, children, unexpected health issues...the good and the bad.  Marriage may mean living paycheck to paycheck if one of you is out of work.  It may mean moving somewhere you don't want to.  The reality is that life won't necessarily be easy just because you got married.  All of your problems will not be solved.  Remember, you find completeness and wholeness in Christ.

2.)  Marriage is work.

It is sacrifice.  It is humbling and often not at all what you may have hoped or expected.  That's okay.  To admit our faults and sins is a good thing.  To ask for forgiveness, is a good thing.  To be broken and built up again anew, is a good thing.  Remember the commitment you made, and that God is with you no matter how difficult it may seem at times.  He is rooting for the success of your marriage and so are mom and dad.

3.) Prayer is key.

Pray for your spouse.  Pray for yourself.  Pray with your spouse.  I have often cried out, "God, please help us!" when we were locked in an argument that seemed to have no resolution.  I just didn't know what else to say.  He has always helped us.  Even when it seemed we would never work it out.

3.)  Let go.

Let go of whatever notion you have in your mind of what your spouse should be, and accept them as they are.  This doesn't mean silently accept degrading behavior.  It means you allow them to be human.  I think little girls can erroneously dream of their prince charming who will never do anything that displeases them.  You will both change throughout the course of your marriage, and that's okay.

4.)  You are a team.

Remember that.  You need to uplift and support your teammate, when they are scoring the winning goal, or when they are stuck on the bench.  See your spouse's strengths, encourage them and cheer them on.  Don't belittle their weaknesses, but try to help them and find solutions.  Your partner should do the same for you.

5.)  Let him lead.

Your husband is the spiritual leader of your home.  Eve paved the way for us ladies by eating that fruit and assuming Adam should do the same.  Men can be so enthralled with women, want to please us so, that they do what we assume to be right.
We can have the tendency not to let our husbands lead, and this is sad tragedy.  If he seems unsure, give him the space to lead by not taking control.  If he has a hard time taking initiative, talk about it.  Tell him how your feel.  Pray.  Your children need to see their father lead instead of following behind their mother constantly.  Your husband will end up feeling powerless and resenting you, and you may end up hardening your heart toward him.  This doesn't mean your husband should be a tyrant with absolute control.  It means he leads with love and gentleness as the Bible describes and as Christ gives as an example.

6.)  Get help.

See a counselor and not just when things get rough.  See a counselor before you marry and during.  Outside perspectives and help can change the course of your marriage.  Don't involve family members in your marital concerns.

7.)  Make a point to stay connected.

You will evolve and change over the years.  Be intentional about still learning and growing with your spouse.  Life can get busy, and it can be easy to lose touch with one another.  You don't want to wake up one day after your children have left home, and realize you don't really know the person you are married to anymore.  Even if it's just a few minutes a day, have a conversation, send messages and check in.  Ask how they are really doing and how they are feeling.  Support their interests.  Don't let your conversations only consist of daily tasks, schedules and what is going on with the kids.

8.)  Don't shut him out.

Though we ladies can be very good at the silent treatment, this is never useful.  You may be in pain and need some time before you can talk, but intentionally trying to punish your husband by shutting him out is a tactic that will only cause more pain.  Don't cut him off emotionally for good.  Be open and honest.  If you need outside help, get it sooner than later.  The longer we emotionally shut out our husbands, the more likely our marriages are to fail and contempt and bitterness grow.

9.) Be positive and respectful.

Positivity has been shown to work wonders in the mind and the marital life.  Instead of ruminating about how he didn't do the dishes or left his dirty socks on the floor again, think of how he fixed something around the house yesterday or got up with a child in the middle of the night.  Remember, you are flawed, too.  You may overlook the fact that you let that warning light stay on in the car too long, forgot to pay that bill or expected him to read your mind.

10.)  Christ brings life.

No matter how difficult it gets, remember that this breaking down and building up is part of the process.  Life comes from the marriage built on the foundation of Christ.  It's worth the struggle when you see your own personal growth, the growth of your relationship with your husband, and the stability your marriage brings to your home and your children.  It won't be perfect, but it will be alive, growing and changing.  Your kids will see the resilience and commitment you  have no matter the storms as you lean on Christ, and prayerfully, they will learn to find their foundation in Christ in their own marriages one day.

All in the Family

The dynamics involved in family units can be quite understated.  Quite unique.  They may have existed for decades or longer.

They can be evolved over time to serve a purpose.  Yet, when the problem or crisis is over, many find it difficult to move out of ways of relating to one another that should not be permanent.  They have a hard time moving forward, moving on.

For example, family members may find it difficult to function when an addict is in the family.  Coping mechanisms such as avoidance, enabling and the like may emerge out of desperation and survival.  Tough love can be shown in order to help the person who is a part of the family.  What happens when that addict overdoses or finds sobriety?  How does the family stop walking on eggshells or let this person back into their lives?  How do they learn to be open and honest instead of acting like the ordeal never happened?

These patterns can become ingrained in an individual and a family and dictate or influence future relationships.  Oftentimes, we don't even realize we are "stuck" in an unhealthy place.  We don't realize that our patterns of behavior may be hurting others around us when genuine authenticity, openness and vulnerability are necessary in relationships.  Many have learned to avoid those deep emotions.  Or maybe they think they should reveal pain and hurt only in private.  Yet, how are we to ever be truly connected with that antiquated notion?  Connection includes being able to accept the fact that others around us are in pain, and there is nothing we can do about it.  Yet, we are still tangibly there for them.  We don't shrink away from intense emotion.

Really loving others has nothing to do with us.  It's not about how good we feel that we fixed their problems, or how amazing it was when they opened our gift.  Loving them can mean saying hard things to them in gentleness and truth.  Loving others can mean being very uncomfortable ourselves.  Loving others doesn't mean we have no boundaries and let others walk all over us.  Loving others often means disappointment when the other person is not able to reciprocate the invitation to go deeper in relationship.

There are so many walls up.  So many of us walk around with gates and walls as thick as the castles of old, and the sad part is- we don't even realize it.  We have had these walls up to protect our hearts for so long, they seem to belong there.  These walls are daunting and seemingly unpenetrable.  Yet, there is hope.  Though it may be the scariest thing in the world to expose ourselves, it is not impossible.  With God, all things are possible.  With God, what we may have believed shameful, he transforms.  The pain we have protected becomes the doorway to help others.

I think one of the greatest weapons of Satan is to attack our identity and self worth.  Instead of focusing on Christ, we often look within, and that can be very dangerous.  Our human nature is despicable, and too much inward reflection creates great guilt and shame, or we start thinking we are okay the way we are, justifying and not admitting our sin.  When not countered with the gift of redemption found in Christ and new life, this only leads to utter despair and separation from God.

This all ties into how we relate to our families.  We find great hope, faith and courage in Christ.  He gives us all we lack, and there is no need for those walls.  Believing this also requries great humility and vulnerability accepting our depravity and also the absolute gift of saving life that we did absolutely nothing to deserve.  Once we stop expecting others to be or give what only Christ can, life becomes liberating.

We have been given the gifts of God.  They are ours.  Peace, joy, wisdom, faith, rest, hope, love... Yet we act as though we don't have these gifts.  We act as though we have to figure everything out and this often includes trying to make others meet deep seated needs.

May we all pray ferventaly for the transparency that can be ours, for the love of Christ to penetrate our hearts, for his healing balm and strong right hand to lead us to what is good and pleasant.  May we know the joy found in the unity of believers under the headship of our Lord and King, Jesus Christ.

Darkness assails.
It's winds and high seas-
The uncertain constancy.

Yet, I do not fear.
though my captives would cheer.
I press on and believe
for I have been saved.
My hope lies ahead,
in the pure bliss of what's read.
His Word promises me,
life and eternity.

I will not fear,
For my redeemer is near.
He lends his ear,
to this weary soul.
Giving reprieve and rest
for the faint hearted,
but blessed.

I am free.
Though Satan surrounds me,
I am at ease-
Though the storm should increase.
For there is no place that I would rather be,
than safe in the arms
of the God who supplies all my needs.

Wherever You Are, Be All There

Time is such an elusive, cosmic, yet static phenomenon.  Are we ever truly present in the current moment?  Is that even possible?  With all of the memories housed in our brains and the concerns and hopes for the future...how can time possibly stand still?

I'm not trying to sound like a smarty pants here.  No.  Not at all.  That kind of writing irritates me.  I'm just sitting here wanting to be present in this moment, but also very aware that it is probably an impossibility for me as a human being.  Yet, this also reminds me of how God is not limited at all by the existence of time.  The only time he was remotely constrained by it was when he walked this earth.

I just think that we can put so much faith in this time on earth that we mistakenly believe it is stable.  It's far from it.  Just because a clock is ticking, does not mean we are going anywhere.  I believe the most constant time is in heaven where there probably are no clocks or calendars.  It's the most present we will ever be, and I can't wait.  I can't wait for the limitlessness of what time spent will be like in heaven.

Merry Christmas, Big Sister!

After my father died, I was a mess and so was my family.  By this time in my life, I had lived in abuse for most of it, and become accustomed to being awoken in the dead of night by my mother, because we were leaving my father again.  When he killed himself, the running stopped, but the fear and anxiety did not.

I was 8 years old suffering from migraines, a nervous stomach and also seemed to get other medical ailments very easily during this time.  I didn't have friends that I can remember.  I wanted to be someone else.  Anyone else, but me.

I got signed up for the Big Brothers Big Sisters program.  To say this was life changing would be an understatement.  For the first time in my life, I saw what could be.  I looked forward so much to my time with my Big Sister and her family every week.  I was loved and accepted. 

She taught me things I never knew like how to hold and knife and fork when eating.  She also taught me what family time in a loving home looked like.  We played board games, played with the dog and listened to music. We did normal things families do that meant so much to me but were commonplace to so many of my peers.  I had never known that much calm in my life. 

Once I thought about visiting her many years later, but I decided I prefer to remember her the way she was and will always live in my mind and heart.  She gave me the book, The Velveteen Rabbit before we parted ways.  How perfect for a little girl that believed the lie that she was used up and no one loved her.  As an adult, I've become free just like the Velveteen Rabbit who was once overlooked and destined for destruction.

I remember my Big this time of year, because her love lives on. The joy of Christmas was something I began to learn from her. Simple, beautiful and humble love. Just remember, you never know how important you may be to someone.

My Kid is not Good & Neither is Yours

The day a child is born is magical.  There truly is nothing like those first few moments when you see, hear and hold your child for the first time. The word "perfect" is often used to describe the new blessing.

While children certainly are gifts of God, beautiful creations and demonstrations of his handiwork, they are far from perfect.  I do believe we are doing our children a disservice by telling them from birth how perfect and good they are.  We tell them they are strong and they can do anything.  While this all sounds amazingly uplifting, it's actually a recipe for disaster.

The reality is that our children are born sinful, flawed human beings in need of a Savior.  They are not perfect.  They are not good.  They are not enough. 

While attending a Mom's Group for mothers with young children a few years ago, the theme You are Enough was constantly reiterated.  The goal was for moms to feel as though their efforts to take care of their families was enough.  They didn't need to be like someone else. 

I knew that didn't quite sit well with me, but I wasn't sure why.  As I discussed it with my husband, I realized why it made me so uncomfortable. 

The thing is...we will never be enough.  No matter our efforts, they will never be enough for other people.  We aren't enough for ourselves.  We NEED God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.  He is the only Enough.  Once we realize and accept this, joy can truly take place.

The indoctrination of so called self esteem via positivity is a false reality.  Underneath the seeming confidence derived from self, there will inevitably be confusion and lack of purpose.  Confidence is meant to be derived from Jesus Christ, no one else and no other accomplishment.  He is the rock, the sure foundation that cannot be moved.  If we place our trust and hope in ourselves, others or anything of this world, it will crumble and fall.  We will fall with it.  We will end up living a pseudo life instead of what God intended.

Once we realize there is no good in us apart from the God who made us, that weight that many of the moms I sat with is lifted.  Our kids can have freedom to be themselves without the pressure to be that perfect baby everyone said they were.  Instead of only living according to the law, we live as though Christ has come back and fulfulled the law.
 
Grace is given, but often forfeited.  

Do You Hear What I Hear

How can a "leader" in church not want to talk about Biblical application in a social setting?  I was recently taken aback when I brought up what I was learning in my own personal Bible study with a pastor.  Instead of joining in the conversation, he was quiet and seemed disinterested.  The conversation quickly went back to light frivolity.  I wrongly thought that a person who is surrounded by religiosity would want to discuss the deep stuff in the Bible.

After that awkward encounter, I realized something that I had taken for granted.  Many of those that are front and center in churches enjoy talking to everyone else about the Bible on their own terms, but that doesn't mean they want to be taught in humility.  It means that they have yet to taste the joy of growing and connecting in community with other believers.  A "personal" relationship with God has come to mean a secret, lonely relationship.  No wonder people sitting in pews every week are disillusioned, afraid, alone and in pain thinking they are "supposed" to come to church to be a better person.  How is this Biblical?  Jesus was surrounded by believers.  He would go off to pray on his own, and also find fellowship with believers through prayer, communion and discussion.  There was deep emotional connection formed by his Word that he desires for believers today as well.

I was hurt, frankly.  This person that I thought would be excited about what I was discussing from an obscure Old Testament passage almost seemed embarrassed. The encounter solidified the truths God has laid in my heart the past few years.

I want to hear God's Word read, preached and discussed freely with hope and expectation as I find my place and my peace in discussion and communion with other saints.  The Word is sacred and holy bringing life blood to all of us, yet it is often merely used as a pawn or a tool to further someone's career path.  This sickens me and saddens me at the simultaneously.  May we reverently and humbly receive Him acknowledging the sacredness of the breath that breathed the words we often fail to grasp.
These words are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ the Son of God! John 20:31

I am a Statistic

I used to detract from the notion that I am a statistic.  I fought hard to not be included in the statistic of those who grew up like me.  I didn't want to be included with those who eventually became abusers, addicts, who created their own broken homes, or had done jail time.

I made myself learn.  I educated myself.  I went to therapy.  I became the one to help those who grew up like me as a professional in the mental health field all the while denying the part of me that looked just like my clients.  If I could distance myself, maybe I could recreate who I am.

This "new me" caused problems, though.  The issue was that the "old me" was still there.  What I had to do was find a way to reconcile what was and what I was becoming, but how do you do that?  It's like mixing oil and water. 

That's when I realized, that the new version could not be something I created.  Only God could reconcile what was and what is.  Only he could take what I was learning, how I was growing and the newness of me and meld it with the painful past I carried.  I would not live in the pain without the blessed hope of relief found in him. 

I realized that the past does not need to dominate me, nor does the present need to suppress the lessons I still learn from that heartache. I continue to learn and grow and emerge from what was meant to beat me down.  I embrace what was meant for evil as it is the compost for the beauty that I see now in my life.

I am a new statistic.  I am included with those who not only survive, not only make something new of their lives, but who sit back and watch the glory of God unfold before them as he creates beauty from ashes.

I do like it here.  There is no need for denial.  There is no need for self loathing or wallowing.  It is a place of peace after the storm.  It's where the sweetness of a thorn filled rose fills the air. 

Yes, I like it here.

INFP Emotions

Sometimes I feel like crying, and I have no idea why.  After lots of reflection, I can often backtrack and pinpoint the reason or reasons why.  Sometimes it is vaguely clear.  Other times, it's not.

It feels like you're standing in the ocean.  It's calm.  You're about waist deep.  Then suddenly a huge wave smacks you under water out of nowhere.  You didn't hear it coming.  You didn't see it.  You're just trying to get yourself back up.

I think a lot of this has to do with my personality type along with trauma I've experienced.  The way I think and feel and cope is all related to the way I see life.

I see life through a kaleidoscope lens.  It's magical and beautiful, but sometimes really overwhelming to stare at for long periods of time.  I have to make a conscious effort to change my viewpoint every now and then or I become dizzy and lightheaded.

I do believe that the intensity at which I feel things is a gift.  It's the salt of my life.  The issue comes in when there's too much salt, and I'm choking.

I do pray for balance so that what is good and majestic within my personhood does not drown me, overwhelm me and those around me.  I embrace the depth to which I feel and the carnival lens I look through.  I also know the danger of it, and pray that the Holy Spirit will temper it and subdue it when necessary.

I can find disappointment to be devastating to a point of despair.  This plays into my joy of hoping and dreaming of great things for myself and others.  Yet, slowly but surely, God is teaching me the joy of being disappointed.  Without disappointments, I would not be able to trust so fully in the surety that he never disappoints.  Through my roller coaster of emotions, he is firm and steady leading me to rest.

I love that I feel the depths of human emotion in such a vivid way.  I also love that God made me this way and loves me just the way that I am.  

Out of Death Comes Newness of Life

I really don't like waking up and realizing it's my birthday.  That may sound crazy, but I would be over the moon happy if I could just skip that day (which is today) altogether.  I get anxious just thinking about it coming up.

I don't get upset that I'm getting older, that I have more gray hair, or more aches and tiredness.  It's not about the actual process of being older that gets my panties in a wad.  It's the emotional pain associated with the day.  It's past events that make it a day where I feel all of those feelings again.  The rejection, loneliness, sadness and confusion all come rushing in like a tidal wave. 

When I grew up, my birthday was seldom about me.  I had put a lot of hope in this day as a child, because in my mind, on this day, I was supposed to be seen and treated nicely. For one day a year, I was supposed to be made to feel special.  Yet, I was met with disappointment as those around me did not know how to be consistent or selfless when the day rolled around.  I felt like an afterthought.  All of the built up hope was crushed year after year.  I longed to be acknowledged and appreciated.

Today is also Good Friday.  What a sad day as we remember Christ's suffering and death, yet joyous all the same as he birthed life that day.
It's also the day 9 years ago when I had our first miscarriage in the bathroom of our apartment.  Devastating.  Shocking.  I was numb with pain.  Yet, I also feel that the little life we saw is up in heaven now.

So, it would be very easy to wallow in all of this sadness and past hurt today.

I woke up with my son very early today.  I woke up to cuddles. Then, I went outside for a run.  As I was walking down the street, I heard banging.  I looked back at the upstairs window of the house to see my 2 daughters smiling and waving at me.  That moment.  Right there.  I thought, "This is good". 

My life is full of people that love me.  They remember me and try to do nice things for me on the day God created me.  I have always downplayed myself.  Yet, I would never do that to one of my children.  It's a defense mechanism so that I don't get hurt again.  I'm glad there are people in my life that want to celebrate the life God created in me.  I'm glad that those little girls have a mom they want to say goodbye to, smile down at, wave and blow kisses to.

As I ran my last mile today, I looked up at the sky so thankful.  The wind blew new growth from the Spring trees in my face, and I thought about how this newness of life is like the life of Christ.  He endured darkness to reveal new life that is incomprehensible.  Love is not love without sacrifice.  Love is not love without the basest humility. 

Jesus Christ is love. 

Happy Good Friday.

Remembering You, Wherever You Are

I don't know why I don't just expect to be hit hard every year.  I still get somewhat shocked at the emotional toll this time of year has on me.  After 29 years, I still feel like someone gut punched me as memories, feelings and flashbacks flood my mind.

I've come to forgive, to feel sympathy, empathy and sadness for my dad.  I think of how he died.  Alone and afraid.

He downed 10 times the amount of medication needed to kill him, and his heart stopped.  Back then, I often wondered if he had a heart.

What I remember about this time of year is my aunt coming to our house to tell my mom, standing in the front yard under a big tree.  I remember seeing my father in a suit, lying in a casket hard as a rock.  I remember feeling so confused, angry and frustrated by him and at him and at the situation.  I remember my mother placing her wedding ring in his suit coat pocket.  I remember standing under another big tree by a hole in the ground.  The pastor spoke, and the thud of the casket being lowered sounded like crashing thunder.  I remember being angry that I had to miss school for this.  School was my safe place.  All of this felt like the earth had opened up, and I was spiraling downward out of control.  It felt as though I had been buried with him.

I also remember afterwards.  No one told me how sorry they were that my dad died.  No one talked to me about it.  No one talked about him.  He had killed himself.  He was menatlly ill.  He was an addict.  He was abusive.  He was a thief.  He was a spurn upon society that everyone seemed to want to forget and bury.  If we didn't talk about it, it wouldn't be so bad, right?

Wrong.

I was his daughter, so what did that make me?

I was left with crazy emotions that literally began to eat me up from the inside out.  I started to have migraines both abdominal and as headaches.  I remember needing absolute silence and darkness as a 9 year old.  I could hear any voice within the house, and it felt like knives were stabbing my head.  I bit my fingernails in class so much that the blue carpet beneath my desk was covered in off white crescent shavings by the end of each day.  I got sick a lot more with all kinds of childhood illnesses.

There are times when I wish my life had been different.  Yet, I wouldn't know and seek Christ's love as I do to fill the void, to soothe the pain and give me strength.  I wouldn't be adamant about loving people where they are, as they are and being open and honest with my children.

We say we are protecting our children by not talking about painful circumstances, when many times we are avoiding the situation out of fear.   That leaves them with feelings that have not been voiced and a message that it is not okay to have intense feelings.  Stuff them and put on a smile.
 No.  Name the feelings, and process ways to deal with them in a healthy manner as a family.

God has shown me since then, his redemptive grace and love.  Nothing is in vain.  He has shown me that trees and death are not to be feared, but embraced as he loved me so much he willingly paid for the sins of me and my father.  Christ was not buried under a tree.  He rose above it.

So, to my father, who I may never get to know, I love you.  I forgive you.  I miss you.

Always, your little girl.

Parenting a Gifted Child

Having gifted children is amazing and exhausting.  They are active and not necessarily just physically active.  We have one that cannot stop her brain from needing input, creating, making and asking.  We have one that is curious and physically everywhere.  We have one that wants to be with you wherever you are, creates her own language and new words.  She was using 3-5 word sentences by 18 months old. Put them all together, and there is not a moment of rest!
It is HARD raising little people whose brains and bodies DON'T STOP!

I remember our oldest daughter stopped taking naps completely at 2 1/2.  She wouldn't stay in her room for rest time without literally getting everything out for her intricate, imaginary play taking half an hour to pick everything back up.  I would tell other parents about the barrage of questions and non stop need for stimulation, but there weren't many that had the same issue.  Their kids would nap until 3 or 4 years old and not continually ask to do another activity.  I envied them!

Her thirst for knowledge is amazing and unquenchable.  She's easily at a mid year first grade reading level at 5 years old.  Now with 3 kids, I find myself at my wits end by lunchtime since the baby is a walking tornado.  My middle is a sweet, silly girl that often picks up on the stress.  She likes to stay under me like a chick under a mother hen.  When I've just had enough, she realizes it after calling my name for the 67th time that day and will just say, "Mommy, I love you."  My sweet girl knows I've had my limit of being asked to do something, get a baby off the table or answer questions.

I try to think of the alternative-children that aren't able to express themselves or communicate or children without mobility to explore their worlds or pester siblings.  I thank God for my children as they are.  I pray for the grace, guidance, patience, faith and LOVE to parent these extremely active children that have such a desire to learn and know more.  God, help me!

The Face We Share on Social Media

I'm a mom of 3 young kids, and many of my Facebook friends have kids as well.  It's fun glancing at birthday pictures, kids smiling and having fun at carnivals, hayrides and on vacations.  My newsfeed often has pictures of little ones who have made a mess with the parent making a joke in the caption or hashtags.

Kids are awesome.  They are beautiful little beings that God created by his own hand.  It's a miracle.  They are little miracles.

But, here's the thing.  Those little miracles are born with a sin nature, and social media rarely captures that sin nature as it truly exists and intertwines with ours as parents.

You don't really see pictures of parents who have gotten to their wits end, locked themselves in the bathroom with headphones in while a toddler and preschooler fight, kick and scream outside the door.  If you do, there is usually a joke made about it.

Reality.  Reality is that it is no joke.  It sucks when you get to that point.  It is SOOOOO hard.  You want to cry, scream and sleep all at the same time.  You give, give and give, and then you just have nothing left anymore, but there's still 5 hours until bedtime.  Reality is that if you don't get help, a break or change in the amount of time you have to care for these little beings, you will plummet to a very dark, terrible place.  We've made light of it via Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and Sanpchat, and it's pretty messed up how social media has become such a contrived, unrealistic world we immerse ourselves in.

There's a disconnect.  You see posts about postpartum depression, but the link between bringing that baby home and how you got there is skipped over.  We joke about the in between stage when someone could really be helped. I'm not just talking about mothers.  Dads need help, too.  They are often working their butts off to come home to screaming kids, staying up for feedings, changing peed beds and being the monster catcher at night.

This is when parents need intervention.  Day after day of no sleep, making meals, cleaning up meals, breaking up fights, cleaning up mess after mess, changing diapers, having little knees and elbows dig into you and literally not being able to say much of anything without whining or arguing wears you dowwwwwn!

We often make a joke about things that are difficult in order to bypass the real frustration and possible pain associated with what's happening.  Our self sufficient society is not healthy.  We NEED each other.  We have become so conditioned to rely on ourselves, that suicide rates and depression just keep getting worse.

God created us to live in community, to uplift, support and pray with one another.  Yet, there is so much brokenness that we don't feel comfortable being vulnerable with those that are supposed to be safe.  We don't know how to be in deep, connected relationships with other people, and oftentimes when that type of relationship is sought, we freeze out of fear.

There is no quick fix when it comes to relationships.  It takes hard, determined work to navigate the pathways that lead to true, honest and deep relationships.  In this instant potato society we live in, I just don't think we're really willing most of the time to cut up the potatoes when the fake potatoes will take half the time.  Where's the authenticity, though?  Where's the real taste?  It's not there.  We're left feeling empty and unsatisfied.

Our relationships have become contrived and fake.  Our kids are learning from a very young age how to pose and what to write that will be accepted by the world.  We've created another level of distance from one another being separated by a screen.  We can't see the other person.   We can't hear the tone of their voice.  On top of that, our deficiencies in writing skills make genuine written communication that of a small child.

It seems we are moving further and further away from healthy relationships.  Pseudo relationships are formed via the internet, and when we do actually see people face to face, we don't really know how to handle direct confrontation.  Yet internet arguments are the norm.  The art of healthy communication is dying.  Maybe it always has been, and the internet is just a boost in the direction of isolation and pretentiousness that we had already embraced.

Whatever the case, the move toward what is not of God, disconnectedness, is speedily on the rise.  I heard a commercial recently describing a new robot.  It's one that was stated to express feelings and one that humans could form a "deep relationship" with over time.  What?!

What is foreseen is a robot who will not challenge us as humans do.  We won't have to learn humility in relationships.  We won't have to grow and change for the better.  Being placated by a machine that simulates a human further keeps us from knowing others and is a LIE!  It essentially keeps us from knowing God as he designed us to live in community with one another through trials, weaknesses, triumphs and pain.

We need Jesus.  We need one another.  Yet, the undertow is ever increasing toward a world that is ignorantly drowning.  Come, Lord Jesus.  Come.

This is Why I Run

Do you remember having to run the mile in gym class?  In about middle school, I remember dreading this day!  I never saw the point of running in a circle over and over again.  I didn't particularly enjoy running and was more interested in boys and what my friends were wearing that day.  I would have chosen to do a week of extra homework over running the mile.

Then, at the end of high school, I had a Forrest Gump moment.  I just decided to step out of my house one day and start running.   I don't know why.  That first run wasn't very far.  It wasn't very fast, and I was panting like a dog on a summer's day when I got back home walking through the house like a zombie desperate to make it to the kitchen for some water.  Yet, there it was.  My first, intentional run.

I didn't stick to running consistently, but my relationship with running outdoors had begun.  By the end of my twenties I had picked up running again and began running in some races.  I remember stopping quite a few times when I know I could have pushed forward.  Right before I found out I was pregnant with our daughter, I ran a 5 miler, and that was the last race I would run until this past weekend just over 6 years later.  I am older and have had children, yet I ran with more ease, confidence and in better time than the younger me.  I am a very different person now, and it's nice to see that person is someone closer to who I know God made me to be in him.

So, why the void for those years?  Well, I had 3 kids and a miscarriage during that time.  I battled depression with a husband gone for work much of the time.  Me-didn't really exist until recently.  My need to make everyone OK around me, to be the perfect mom, to make everything good was getting the best of me again after the birth of my son.  I wanted to avoid that pit of despair I've known quite intimately before.  After months of sleep deprivation and the realization that I had to do something for me to help my family, I started running.  I knew that I wasn't just running to lose the baby weight.  I wasn't going to run just to say, "I'm a runner".  I wasn't going to run just for me.  No, it was ultimately for my family.  I needed to be get healthy physically, emotionally and mentally.  I knew that running was going to help me do that.  I knew that the better gift for my family would be to run as opposed to running around the house like a chicken with it's head cut off.

When I run, so much happens.  What is not supposed to be tangled up inside, starts to unravel.  I have to think about breathing, to breathe deeply and purposely.  I have to keep telling myself to go even when the incline is steep, my legs are burning and my side is aching.  I wipe the sweat off, and keep moving.  I make goals and literally chase them.  I can see why the Bible uses the runner as an example of our life with him.

I am not running away from anything.  I am running toward something.  I am moving forward by the grace of God.  What a blessing to move forward with his hand gently pushing me.  What a blessing not to get stuck or to get stuck and get out of that pit, because all of my strength comes from him.

On My Run Today...

The scenery is beautiful when I run.
The trees sway back and forth in the wind.
The sun beams down on the earth warming and brighteneing everything it touches.
Wild roses cascade over a fence to say hello.
Mirrors of dew on the grass reflect the big world above.

But these aren't the only beautiful things I see.
I see people.
I see people showing kindness.
They smile, say hello and wave as I run past.
In their cars, they motion for me to cross the street.

They are young.
They are old.
They are somewhere in between.
They have dark skin.
They have light skin.
They are somewhere in between.
They have money.
They don't have money.
They are somewhere in between.
I see people.

As I finish my run, and turn onto my street,
I am at peace.
I am at home on this street.

My neighbors smile and wave as I pass by.
Some have light skin.
Some have dark skin.
Some are in between.
Some are young.
Some are old.
Some are in between.

My heart swells knowing that kindness and decency truly does exist.
I see the truth as I run.
I see God's creation.
Made in his image-
All of us needing our savior,
One not better than another.
I see people.
I see the fingerprints of God.

Kids are NOT Resilient!

I'm sure you've heard, as I have, that kids are resilient.  Usually one says this when discussing a hardship the child may be going through or has endured.  They are reflecting on the seeming lack of sadness or bad behavior they observe from the child though they may just had a parent or loved one die, gone through a big change such as moving or had their parents divorce.

I have heard this and always inwardly rolled my eyes as it is such a scapegoat for us as adults.  I can't see it, so it's not there, right?  If these circumstances would cause an adult to have a hard time, how much MORE will a child have a hard time?  Just because that child does not have the vocabulary or emotional capacity to express their grief, anger and pain as an adult, does not mean they do not HURT! 

The reality is that we as adults don't want to think about the difficult circumstance.  We don't want to acknowledge it.  We want to pretend it's not there, so that we can go on with life.  Yet, in so doing, we are pretending our children are not there.  We are ignoring their PAIN!  If they fell off of the monkey bars and broke their arm, wouldn't we immediately take them to the emergency room.  Why, oh why then do we ignore the brokenness of their hearts!  We leave them alone in their misery, scared, alone and confused.  The breaks are not as instant as a fall, yet they are there compounding and getting infected while we go around telling people how resilient they are.

I wonder how often we actually sit down and talk to our children about more than what they learned at school that day or their upcoming ball game.  They are not going to talk in adult terms, but they most certainly will be honest most of the time if they feel safe enough to do so.  Why should they express their pain to us if we've made it clear through our inattention and dismissal that sharing negative or painful emotions is not welcome?

I pray to God, so earnestly, that my children will ALWAYS know that they can express their pain, even if I'm the culprit.  It is a very sad, lonely and desolate existence to feel that no one really wants to hear about the wounds of your soul, particularly your own parents.  May God have mercy on us all as we navigate these waters in the hopes of raising healthy individuals.