My Sunday Reflection

Crossroads are a natural part of life's journey. Fairly predictable at the end of education endeavors, decision on marriage and bearing children. But, I think the ones that are the most difficult involve less on the factual statuses of life and more on matters of the heart.

I have spent two years at a crossroad. Written all throughout this blog are posts littered with depression, questioning, with a sprinkling of some epiphanies, yet no action has really been taken. It is much easier for me to write about being at the crossroads and what I think I should do than actually stepping forth, making a move, getting off of the "x marks the spot" and journeying on.

Last night I found myself at the foot of my beautiful Sadie's bed while she slept. My purpose in being there was to pray for her, to petition to God for wisdom and understanding into a beautiful mind that has become an enigma to me.


You see, this school year has brought to the surface the struggles that each individual member of my family has, but in no one more obvious that Sadie. I noticed a decline in her behavior over the summer. Little acts of disobedience. Little manipulations. Little lies. Little aggravations. I was not the proactive mother. Our summer schedule left little time to enforce discipline measures. Jay traveled much of the time. Honestly, I was just tired of being a mom. Tired of being, actually.


As the school year has progressed, so has Sadie's transgressions. A little bit of talking in class has become a lot of talking in class which has become talking while the teacher is instructing which has become impulsive loud acts, which has become hitting another child with a book, chasing around a hair in the air while class is being conducted...etc., etc., etc. This only parallels her behavior at home causing me to be consumed with anger and for me to attempt warp drive in the control department. If I just clamp down hard enough, rant and yell enough, I can squash her into this box that I think she should fit in. I searched the internet - ADHD, Oppositional Defiance Disorder, Boredom, Highly Intellectual, Differentiation in the Classroom - looking for answers, solutions, problem-solving on my own. Do you hear the problems already?

The height of these acts occurred this week, resulting in an explosion or rather a possible implosion of our family. As typical with the workings of God, desperate times draw you close to Him and you reach a new heightened sense of awareness of Him and His love. Monday was just one of those days...

So, there I was, sitting beside my sleeping angel desperate to hear from Him. As I prayed for my child's heart, the light began to shine into my own heart. I wasn't just praying fervently for her, I was praying desperately, soul-searchingly for me. I needed my God. The tears became sobs. I was broken, yet again.

How could I have gotten to this place? Admittedly, by my own two feet. Walking away from Him. On my own.

Easily, I cried out to God to draw us both close to Him. He comforted my heart. He soothed my soul. The next day, God continued speaking to my heart in my bible study. This is what I learned:

1) God is not asking me to problem solve this situation. He asks that I just love her, turn her to Him, apply necessary discipline. Ultimately, I must have faith that He who does a good work, will be faithful to complete it. I should never be desperate or exacerbated.

2) I must shore myself up with the word. My life's history clearly shows how being the word is hugely impacting to me in every single part of my day. The highest of highs, the joy of of joys comes from being with my Savior. My entire countenance changes, a supernatural change that I can not create myself. I am able to transcend the struggles of this world to live with a peace that truly passes all understanding.

3) I must role model self-control which can not come from me, but from the Holy Spirit. If I am flying off the handle, having my little adult fits, rages, etc., how in the world can I expect Sadie not to?

4) I must not let how this world defines a "good" child be my guide for Sadie, nor can I let the rolling eyes and judgements of other parents, teachers, etc. to shame me, doubt my parenting, or define success for me. This is between me, Sadie and God.

I would like to say that all of this changed the remaining days of the week, like a miracle was performed and Sadie showed marked improvement. No. That was not the case. However, there was a miracle in my ability to handle it, to administer appropriate punishment, to turn her heart to the Lord. We have had some very sweet prayers and discussions as well as some very tough discipline measures. For example, her room contains only with her bed and clothing.

Therefore, I wait. I pray and I wait expectantly. It is nice to have the crossroads to my back. You know, I might be walking a very long time, but I have faith that somewhere along that path, the trees will bear much fruit.

Low, Again

The last two weeks have swirled by with the fury of a blizzard. I use the word blizzard because much of it felt as if I were stranded in blackout conditions. It really wasn't so much the circumstances, but my inability to handle them.


For the past 14 days, someone in my house has been sick. They have been so painfully sick that we have had numerous trips to the doctors, hospitals and finally a three-day stint at Brenner's Children's Hospital. My sad, pitifully merciless heart has grown a bit as I have held my two oldest while they have writhed, cried and screamed their way through the massive cramping and stabbing war going on in their bellies. What is must be like for parents who must experience this daily with their chronically ill spawn. That is a journey I beg God not to send me through.

My own inability to soothe my children, bring them comfort, find a solution has sent me spiraling. It is that battle of control, once again. The urge to focus, become obsessive, on matters completely not eternal, has wound me tighter than a tick. Ranting has, unfortunately, become the norm and it only takes a tiny blip in my scheduling to send me careening over the edge of the tightrope I walk as a mother. I am gone before I can even attempt to grab at that rope and salvage some bit of the show. My husband, my children, my extended family, even the dog -no one has been immune.

I could list everything on my mind at this very minute, but none of them really matter. What I do recognize is that I am in a very bad place. I do not have the skills to make sense of it all. This is not how I want to live as I have lived better. I am not enjoying this season of life and I should. Sometimes, you just have to know when to raise the white flag of surrender...again.

He Makes New Every Morning

Despite not being a morning person, I do love how every morning generally brings a new perspective, a fresh start and a reinvigorated focus. Here is where I am this morning as opposed to yesterday:

"The world is unprincipled. It's dog-eat-dog out there! The world doesn't fight fair. But we don't live or fight our battles that way—never have and never will. The tools of our trade aren't for marketing or manipulation, but they are for demolishing that entire massively corrupt culture. We use our powerful God-tools for smashing warped philosophies, tearing down barriers erected against the truth of God, fitting every loose thought and emotion and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ. Our tools are ready at hand for clearing the ground of every obstruction and building lives of obedience into maturity."

2 Corinthians 10:3-6 (The Message)

Of particular focus is the phrase, "smashing warped philosophies" and, "fitting every loose thought and emotional and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ." Generally, I don't read the Message version of the bible too often, but I really liked how this was interpreted.


My quiet time was spent reflecting on how I have not been using the "tools of my trade," otherwise know as the word of God, to smash, squash, demolish, destroy and tear down the bondage my battle with weight and ultimately my battle with control has had me in. Reading this passage also gave me a boost, strengthening my resolve that His word can kill of the world's pressures and ideals which is from a, "massively corrupt culture." Instead of constantly and consistently keeping God's purpose and image of me in the forefront, I have let the world's, "marketing or manipulation," drive me. I have not been making an a purposeful, concerted effort to stop these thoughts and habits in their tracks with the word of God. Therefore, "clearing the ground of every obstruction," between me and my Father.

My walk with this Lord has been quite immature lately. I let it just come and go like the waves on a beach. Sad that I have reached this point in my spiritual walk, I know. It is time to be habitual and purposeful again, "building a life of obedience to maturity." Always available, always faithful, His word and prayer are, "tools...ready at hand." What a perfect time to draw close to Him, this morning which He has made new for me.

The Numbers Game, part 3

The weeks that have passed since writing The Numbers Game, Part 2 have been a struggle for me. Actually, using the word "struggle" is an incredible understatement.

I was determined not to step foot on the bathroom scale since declaring I would not allow it to be a part of my daily routine any longer. However, it began weighing heavily on my mind every morning as I prepared myself for the day. The scale sat in its usual place, taunting me, calling me so desiring to wield its power over me and dictate to me if I will feel good about myself today or not. I had resisted, until a week ago.

During this hiatus from the bathroom scale, I felt as if I were growing larger by the moment. My clothes all seemed to be shrinking and every morning I found something in my closet I thought was just a tad tighter than the last time I wore it. No one mentioned to me that it looked like I had lost weight lately and this compounded my panicky feelings. My days consistently battled with low self- esteem and of measuring and comparing myself to every other woman I encountered. I apologize if that makes anyone reading this feel uncomfortable, but I am trying to bear it all today in this post.

Fast-forward to this past week. Jay had a doctor's appointment and despite working out 3 days a week, he gained enough weight for his doctor to be concerned. Yeah, ok, so some of it is muscle weight, but he and I know that most is not. Additionally, I know that I had put on some pounds since mid-May, how much, I did not know. However, since he was going to be cutting back, I figured out I would be supportive and jump on the band wagon.

I knew it wasn't going to be pretty. I have been uncomfortable in most of my clothes and my eating habits have been completely out of control. As I stepped onto the scale, I let out an audible gasp, my stomach began to knot. I have gained 12 pounds since mid-May. 12 pounds.

Do I know how petty all of this is? Yes. Is it completely out of perspective? Yes. Are there a million more things in this world that are more important? Yes. Yet, I am con summed with this.

Control. There is it, that word again. Self-control, discipline, focus, manage; whatever word you want to use, it describes what I battle in my life. My control verses God's control. For 5 years, I have controlled my weight, allowing me to better deal with all of the other uncontrollables in my life - children, husband, death, work, house, etc. Now, even that is out of my control. My inner self has completely come unglued, chaos reigning and borderline depression setting up camp.

I can remember a time when my house was my controllable area. Cleaning an exorbitant amount - wiping baseboards weekly, cleaning blinds weekly, organizing and reorganizing closets. I chose this focus because my weight was so vastly out of control, I didn't even see it as an area under my influence. As the children grew and became more destructive to the house and I began my journey to physical fitness, my focus shifted to something I could actually dictate, food consumed. Compounding that were the added burdens of cancer and death - two variables completely out of my hands.

I am very angry with myself. My anger at my weight gain is superseded by my anger at myself for wasting so much emotional energy with this topic. I am extraordinarily disappointed at how I treat others around me when I feel this inwardly chaotic. I transfer my frustrations at failing at my own ridiculous goal of perfection to my children. I was very unfair to them yesterday and I am still struggling with that reality this morning.

Now I am scrambling, lowering my caloric intake, drinking water by the jug full, all the while growing agitated and completely aggravated by my constant state of hunger and desire for chocolate. For what, I ask myself? To feel in control again. The irony of the statement does not escape me; I know nothing is truly under my control.

I have had seasons when I was at rest in my life, when I was not running that treadmill of constant work and control. Short-lived these seasons were, but I have lived them. Disappointingly, I am back in this pit of numbers, scrambling on my own, by my own strength to gain footing to climb out of it. I know failure is assured with this method, and yet, my sinful tendency is to solve it on my own, with my own control.

I know what I need to do, but will I do it? It is another season of brokenness and I pray that it will be the last one with this stronghold I will have to endure. I pray for the end to this maddening numbers game.

I don't have much to say. At least not here. My writing has taken a definite leap into deeper and some what darker places. One day maybe these private entries will find their way into some sort of novel or article, who knows?

I am gearing up for Friday. Two years she will have been gone. Much more emotional this year. I am not very stable and well, for someone who LOVES control, this is somewhat of a death statement.

I spent this weekend with some ladies from our church at a retreat. It was very relaxing, full of wonderful teaching and as predicted...emotional. I had quite a bit of mental distraction going on so I am not sure that I fully inhaled what was presented. Maybe just a whiff here and there. But, in the midst of it all, I asked my friend, Beth, who I met when we were both pregnant with our second children, nearly 8 years ago if I would be considered a "crier," you know, emotional. Her emphatic answer, "NO! But, you should be."

I concluded that because it seems I cannot walk around these days without a tissue, I am in fact, going through "something." This is not the first something, but a cycle that seems to have started when she was still alive and has become more frequent since her passing.

Another conclusion I have drawn is that I am beyond being able to get this under control using only my abilities. Challenging my independent self to the core. This is extraordinarily painful to admit. I hate myself for all the times I looked at someone "emotional" and thought why can't they just pull it together? Just, "suck it up." Wow. Get a load of that mercy. Think there is an award out there for the most merciless person on the planet. Some things are truly out of one person's control.

Plans are in place to help me, aid and assist me in this journey and for once, I welcome them with arms wide open.

That's Just How I Roll...

I recall Jay telling me a funny exchange he had with Ethan. Ethan must have been doing some odd-ball behavior in the car. Nothing wrong, just silly. Jay asked him why he was doing that. Ethan responded, "That's just how I roll, Dad. Just... how... I roll."

I have no idea why that conversation that occurred many months ago wound up in my head on the drive home from yet another Pump It Up birthday party, but it did. And, as usual, I started thinking about that quirky little catch phrase of 2008. So just how am I rolling?

Well, today, not very well. I don't handle disappointment. Period. I easily let others' actions dictate my emotions. Ouch and shame on me. And, when I set my heart on a particular course, well, it doesn't change direction easily. Though circumstances are always out of my control, I cling to some earthly notion that I have some sort of clout. I wonder at what point in life, someone with my disposition can refrain from any outward hissy fit throwing, control the inner sadness and disappointment and just let it roll off my back.

I know the answer to that question. It is a peace in knowing that God is in control. Knowing that what comes my way is not only purposed, but perfect. His timing, His plan, His will. Oh, but to put it into practice.

My rolling is not His rolling and I need to come to grips with that. Again.