Broken

My friends, I think the most clearly when I can drag things out of my brain either through my hands by writing, or when I can talk about them with someone else. I bet you can guess which one gets me into the least amount of trouble. 😉 I'm trying, but I can't seem to process all of the ugliness and pain that I witness on a daily basis anymore. My heart has reached its threshold, and all of the hate and strife has become too much. 

Jesus, please help!

My life is currently undergoing some major changes and obstacles. As many of you know, our family is planning a move to Florida after the end of the school year. We have many reasons for the move, although health issues and opportunities for our family top the list. My husband and I made the decision during this past summer after much prayer and research, and we are confident in our decision. All of that being said, we were very concerned about Hurricane Irma. Not only does most of my husband's family live in Florida, but our new home is there as well. We had several stressful days of worry about them, and as selfish as it sounds, about our decision to go. While everything turned out okay for our family, the state still has a long path of recovery ahead, and we will be moving right into it. I'd love to say that I have enough faith to not worry about what it means for our family, but that would be a lie. It is disconcerting, to say the least, to take your family into the unknown.

To add to the stress of preparing to move so far away, my Hashimoto's disease has decided to flare up. I've had several sick days, including having to leave work with an anxiety attack a couple weeks ago and a trip to the ER this past weekend. I despise this disease! It makes me exceedingly weak and dependent upon so many others. Of all of the emotions that I feel when I'm sick, the most prevalent is guilt. I feel guilty that my husband has to take on so many of my responsibilities. I cringe thinking about what my girls might be dealing with or missing out on because of my inabilities. Our home is a wreck most of the time, and I doubt all of my work. Honestly, my pride is probably the biggest loser in the whole situation, and my prayer life is the biggest winner. 

Daughter #1 is also dealing with some pretty significant issues at the moment. She is under a doctor's care, so we prayerfully place our most precious blessings into God's hands once again. Our younger daughter's tween season is in full bloom. On any given day you can find me both laughing at her whimsical personality and wanting to ship her off to Grandma for an attitude adjustment. She's lucky she's so lovable! My husband really doesn't like it when I talk about his issues, so suffice it to say that he's got a lot on his plate being a public school teacher in a state where educators are not valued and children are becoming less teachable.

I presented this glimpse into my family's lives for a reason. I don't know what people think about me; it's not really any of my business. But, I do know what I think about myself, and right now I'm a hot mess! My heart is pulled into a million places at the same time, and then it's being torn apart. And it's not just thinking about my family that has me all shook up. Our little town, state, and nation are filled with disasters, controversies, and worries galore. Rumors of school shootings, taxes, budgets, protests, hurricanes, earthquakes, North Korea, Trump, the NFL fiasco, healthcare......

The list could go on and on, and what's an average person to do? While all of this is happening around us, our private lives do not stop. We still have to get up every day and face our responsibilities. Unfortunately, many of us are heading into each day defeated before we even start. The stakes are so high in our personal lives that we cannot bear any more weight from society, or we will break. 

My friends, I believe that is what has happened to many of us, myself included. 

We are broken.

We have filled ourselves with more than we can take, and instead of overflowing, we break. There is so much evidence of brokenness in the world: abused children, homeless veterans, battered women, addiction, and now the non-stop barrage of hate on social media. All of the hurt, suffering, and pain in our lives needs an outlet. While many people find healthy means of expression, so many of us do not. We hide, lash out, or escape by whatever means possible. Unfortunately, our coping mechanism usually just causes more pain. We humans are so fragile. We pretend to be invincible, but our brains and bodies tell us differently. We can't sleep. Our faces break out. We don't eat, or we eat too much. Our bodies get sick. Our hearts stop working right. Suddenly, we have a hard time even getting out of bed. 

What, if anything, can we do then to repair what has been broken inside of us? The Japanese have an art form that I find fascinating. It is called Kintsugi. They repair broken objects with something precious, like gold.

The broken objects then become beautiful and unique. Kintsugi teaches that broken things can become beautiful if repaired properly. I love this idea! Just think about what you would look like if all of your brokenness could be repaired with something precious! I imagine I would look something like this.....

All joking aside, what can we, as humans and not pottery, do to fix our brokenness? I know my futile attempts to fix myself are just that, futile. While opinions differ on this matter greatly, I propose one simple solution: we look up. Instead of wallowing in all that this world is heaping upon us, what if we focus on something bigger than ourselves? God's Word has some interesting things to say about brokenness. 

I could go on and on, but I think you get the point. God genuinely cares when we can't go on. He wants to help us when the journey gets too rough. He knows we can't do it on our own. 

My sweet friends, may I leave you with one final thought for today? What would your world look like if you let God heal you like a piece of Japanese pottery? Would you still see the rough and ugly pieces of your broken life? Or, instead, would you see the beauty of a life glued back together with Jesus' precious blood? I know life is hard. No one has it all together, despite how things appear from the outside. We are all broken in some way. Knowing this, it should make it easier for us to listen to others and practice kindness. The way we treat others matters.

Broken people sometimes act in broken ways.

If you or someone you know need help, please call:

The Age of Letting Go

My sweet friends, I hope you've had a wonderful summer. While it may still be in full swing in other locations, it's back to school time here. It hardly seems possible. Where did the summer go? Wasn't it just Memorial Day?!?

No, it wasn't. Our kids have been home from school for almost three whole months. It's weird to think of it that way, isn't it? Our kids spend a full quarter of the year home with us, a whole season almost.

I remember the summers of my youth. They went by so S L O W L Y. Summer took forever. Not that it was a bad thing. Baseball games, trips to the lake, camping, fishing, picnics, and occasional vacations made the summer a blissful time of my childhood.

I wonder sometimes how our children will remember their childhood summers. Our family is not wealthy, so huge and extravagant vacations don't generally happen in our home. We usually try to do something new and fun with the kiddos every year, though. Will they remember all the trips to the park? Will they remember our first plane ride? Will they remember the many trips to Grandma's? I wonder.

This summer has gone by in a blur. The beginning of summer was consumed by softball and volleyball practices, and then games. But since 4th of July......nothing. I can't remember doing much for the rest of the summer. We went to the park today. Does that count? We went to the pool. We went to the library. The second half of our summer was full of the mundane, I guess. The everyday of life was about all we accomplished. Was it enough?

You might be wondering what has brought on this new wave of concern over our kiddos' childhood experiences. Well, today I got a very rude awakening from my dear soon-to-be teenager.

She's not little any more.

My sweet babies are no longer babies. My girls will be starting the fourth and seventh grades this year.

You see, my time is running out.

I, like every other mother on the planet, have forgotten the most important lesson of motherhood-we only get them for so long. They're not ours to keep. They're only on loan from our loving Creator.

You know God must have quite a sense of humor. He hands us these little pink balls of screaming and crying and stink, and he makes us instantly fall in love with them. So we care for them, nurture them, love them, and teach them. We pour ourselves into these tiny beings like it's our life's only purpose. As they grow, we finally get to rest a bit as they start to do things for themselves. We become comfortable in this phase.

Life is good.

Now, I understand that everyone's motherhood journey is different, and it is not all wonder and beauty. Sometimes it's downright awful and we pray for bedtime or nap time or TV time or whatever gets us through the day. But, looking back, something strange has happened. I find that most of the awful has faded away into the mist, and the beauty is what stands out most. Bedtime stories, dinner time talks, tickles, giggles, and snuggles are what I remember the most. To my fellow moms still in the toddler stages, you really will miss some of it. I promise.

God, in his infinite wisdom (and I'm not saying that sarcastically,) has decided that we must move on from this time of comfort. We have entered into a new phase in our parenting journey, and I must say, I'm not really fond of it yet.

We have entered into the age of letting go. 

You know, I thought we were already doing this as we went along. Children as they grow go through so many milestones and changes, you find yourself constantly adjusting to what is happening now, and letting go of what has gone before. A great example would be trusting your kid to quietly play without burning the house down, or letting them play outside without you. When they were toddlers, these things would be unthinkable, but as they grow, we open our hands a bit and they step out on their own a little. As they master these little things, we keep giving them bigger and bigger things. Little by little they are learning to stand on their own. This is how I thought we were parenting. Little did I realize that we were teaching them to live without us, and teaching ourselves to let go.

Man, it's so hard!

I remember standing at the door watching my girls playing outside, and trying not to let them see me. I remember fielding calls from my big girl at every sleepover. I remember waiting outside for them to come back from riding their bikes. If only it could continue to be that easy....

I'm not a fool. I know what awaits me. I know that sleepovers are nothing compared to dates. I know bike rides can't even come close to car rides. And I don't even want to think about college. But tonight as my near teenager pushed me away and meant it, something broke within me. It hit me like a ton of bricks how very little time we have left with these sweet, crazy girls.

We have six summers left with our big girl. Six summers of childhood, and she'll be gone. My heart is having a hard time with this today. I feel like I've wasted so much time worrying about laundry and dishes and rest. Wake up! Wake up! We only have six summers left! 

We have some major changes coming to our family soon, and I'll be sure to reveal more later, but I want to leave you with this one thought before I'm done. Childhood doesn't have to be magical, but it does have to be meaningful for our children. I think most parents would be surprised to learn what really sticks with their kids as they grow up. Parenting is hard, and the dishes and the laundry have to be done, but remember some day you'll have plenty of time on your hands and way too much quiet.

Childhood is fleeting.....

A Little Tough Love

My two beautiful daughters have decided that they would like to try out some sports this summer. Consequently, my sweet husband and I have been busy playing taxi since the end of the school year. Our little is playing softball. For those of you who don't know, she has asthma. This is her first sports endeavor. It's a big deal.

Our big girl is trying her hand at volleyball. Since she was little, people have been asking her over and over if she was going to play basketball or volleyball because she is so tall. It's been a tough time for her lately with some medical issues. Team sports is a big deal for her right now, too.

My girls have been asking me all summer what I think of how they are playing.

I am a good mom.

I try to be reassuring, and point out the positive aspects of their efforts. I try to encourage them. I want them to feel good about playing.

But tonight, oh tonight, they got a dose of my honest opinion, and I'm not sure they enjoyed it. My girls have been working at these sports all summer, but I feel as though they are not really willing to give it their all. They do have their moments, but, in reality, they are just going through the motions.

They are unsure.

They are bored.

They are making excuses.

They don't want to practice at home.

Greatness takes effort. Success usually only comes after many failures. Without trying you don't have to feel the crushing disappointment of failure after giving it your all. You also don't get to feel the amazing rush of winning, knowing you gave it your all.

Fear can trap us all, no matter our age. Fear of failure. Fear of embarrassment. Fear of humiliation. We've all experienced it.

Tonight, I told my girls my honest opinion.

I told them that attitude matters. I told them that effort matters, no matter the results. I told them that practice pays off. You have to work for what you want in life. If you're not willing to work for it, it must not matter that much to you.

Excuses only set us up for failure. If you are already preparing a defense for why you failed, you are not giving it your all!

Don't give up!

Never quit!

You are only in competition with yourself in this life. You may win or lose games, but winning without really contributing is so hollow. Losing after giving up is even worse. We only regret the chances we don't take. We only cherish the things we know we really work for, that's why participation trophies mean nothing to kids.

They KNOW they didn't earn them.

Play games and have fun, but you should do your best.

Always.

Otherwise, you cheat yourself and your team. If you're not willing to do that, maybe you shouldn't play.

Now, some of you might be saying that I was a little hard of my girls. I should only encourage effort.

Encouragement will only take them so far. They were genuinely wanting to know how to get better. They know they are not doing as well as they could. I don't know, maybe some kids have enough self discipline that encouragement is enough for them.

My girls are not like that.

They respond well to a little tough love. I think most people eventually do. Why should I hold that back from them?

God certainly doesn't hold back from showing us tough love. He prunes and trims from us, knowing we will be better when He's done with us. He wants us to grow. He wants us to change for the better. He wants us to mature.

My girls' attitudes need to mature. They need to understand the concept of a team a little better. All of the encouragement in the world will not make it happen.

Tough love.

Amazingly enough, God's ways are best. Again.

Always.

Mom-1/ Mom Guilt-0

Today, I am that mom.

You know the one. The mom that frets. The mom that overprotects. The mom that clears the way for her kid. The mom that brings forgotten things, soothes every owie, and makes it all okay. That mom.

Sigh.

As a mom, some days are just harder than others. Depending on the age of the kid, what that looks like can be quite different. 

Your 9 month old is teething and just won't sleep.

Your 3 year old will not stop climbing on everything.

Your 5 year old cries every day at kindergarten drop-off.

Your 9 year old replies to every request with sass.

Your 12 year old is, well, acting like a 12 year old. 

Ahem.

Some days are just hard. Right now, my twelve year old is having a rough go of it. She loves Jr. High, but it's been physically hard on her. I think she's had more sick days this year than all of the others combined! We are now in the dreaded doctor's note phase of school absences. Every time she misses school, she needs a doctor's note.  Well, okay. But what if the kid just doesn't feel good? What if she's not sick enough for the doctor, but she's running a low-grade fever, has glassy eyes, and is coughing her lungs out? I know she has a cold. It's manageable. She'll be fine. She definitely doesn't need the doctor.

I still want her home.

Every mom is different when it comes to sick days. My own mom was very specific about sick days. If we weren't on death's doorstep, we were going to school. Some other moms don't seem to care if their kids ever go to school. My stance is definitely closer to that of my mom than of the second mom. On the other hand, I don't like to send my kiddos to public school, where they will infect everyone in their path, when I know they are obviously sick. Without throwing up. Without a fever. Come on, my fellow moms, we know when our kids aren't quite right. In our house, if their eyes are glassy, they are staying home. I just don't think that it benefits anyone to have sick kids at school.

But, I digress. 

My girl has missed 13 days this year. That's a lot, thanks to a bout with a strep/influenza combo she acquired earlier this year. That combo left her a bit, well, off. I don't know  how to describe it, but she just hasn't felt well since. We've taken her to the doctor, and they've run some tests. So, for now, she is on an acid reducing medication, and we've had to change her diet. That means she brings her lunch to school.

EVERY. 

DAY.

Now this morning, like all other mornings since this began, I made her lunch and left it on the kitchen table. My girl has to walk past the table to go out the door. See where I'm going with this? Today she walked right past her lunch and left it at home.

We both know she needs the lunch. And yet, there it sat, on the table. As my husband pulled out of the driveway to take her to school, I was left with a dilemma. Do I take the lunch to her?

Part of raising responsible kiddos is letting them fail once in a while. I know this. You know this. Everyone knows this. Isn't this the biggest complaint about this generation of parents? We aren't letting our precious snowflakes fail EVER. Look, I get it. I even mostly agree. What I have a really hard time with is days like today. 

What exactly would I be teaching my sick daughter by not taking her specially packed lunch?  

• She should be responsible for herself. Yes, she should be responsible for herself. When it comes to what she eats every day, she needs to pick up the lunch box. Even if she has to have a special diet, I'm sure she could find something in the school lunch to eat.
• Actions have consequences. Forgetting your lunchbox means eating school lunch. Done. Twelve is old enough to deal with it. Just like missing practice means you might not get to play, learning that her personal actions have real world consequences is a life lesson. I know this.
• Grace is something we learn in church, but it's not meant for you. Ouch.This one stings a bit. Grace is undeserved favor. We can't earn it, it's freely given. Do we only teach grace in church or are we allowed to bestow grace upon the other little humans living in our homes? I don't know about you, but we have always been grace givers in our home. We all make mistakes. I believe sickness is a time of great grace.
• We must never break the rules. You know, this one makes me giggle a little. I am a rule follower by nature, and I have a little one who is just like me. To hear her tell it, there is never a good time to break the rules (unless it's her, of course!) It's a rule in our home that I will not bring a forgotten lunch or homework. It's their responsibility. But, do we all follow the rules all the time? Um, how many speeding tickets have you had? Ever have 12 items in the 10 items or less aisle? We just finished tax season, ahem. Sometimes in life, we bend the rules a little. I refer you back to my previous point on grace.
• Do as I say, not as I do. I forget things. All. The. Time. I actually had to have a dry erase board put up in my kitchen for that very reason! Is it unreasonable to think that our kids will forget things, too? I don't think so. Their days and minds are busy, just like ours. I have come home for lunch many days because of a forgotten lunch. By junior high, I expect them to remember, but mistakes happen for them, just like they do for me.
• You are not important. Nope. I just couldn't let her think this one today. Just. No.

So, as you may have guessed, I took the lunch to her today. The entire time I was explaining to the office staff why I brought it, I knew I had done the right thing. My poor girl needed some grace today, and I was in the position to give it to her.

You know, it would be nice if there was a magical parenting book tailor-made for each child, wouldn't it? We would know what to do all the time, and never wonder or worry if we'd made the right decision. I once had a friend tell me that I was to always remember that I was raising a child to become an adult, not to stay a child. It was honestly some of the best parenting advice I've ever received, but only if I remember that adulthood isn't all about responsibility. It is also about love, grace, faith, and compassion. I want my girls to have those things as adults, so I have to teach them those things as children. 

The best way for my sweet girls to learn these things is to see them in my life. I have the greatest power to influence them, for good or bad. And, while there is no magical parenting book, I do have a book to help me along the way. It's full of everything I need to live a life my girls can emulate with pride. 

A Sure Thing

My sweet friends, this week I'll be turning 40. So many of you have been kind enough to tell me all about how 40 is a blessing. Thank you. I really needed to hear it.

What is it about milestone birthdays that makes us reflect upon our lives?

I don't know, but I can tell you that I don't feel ready. I don't feel 40. I don't feel adult enough for all of the responsibilities that 40 entails. I don't feel mature enough. Adults are supposed to be wise, and I still end up winging most things in life. When is all this wisdom going to show up? Where is the magical adult maker? Where is the responsibility endower? Wait! Come back, youth! I missed something!

Alas, the closer it gets to my birthday, the more I realize that these ideas are just figments of my imagination. There is nothing magical about getting older, except the privileges of living longer and gaining wisdom along the way. As with many things in life, wisdom and responsibility are qualities that are earned, not granted.

Looking back on my life, God has blessed me in so many ways. I have loving parents who are still married and tried as hard as they could. I have had so many truly wonderful friends, many of whom I still speak with often. I have had the opportunity to go to college, which changed me in so many wonderful ways. I have a wonderful husband, who is my true best friend in life. We have two amazing daughters who are so smart, kind, and lovely.

Most importantly, I have Jesus.  

As I sit writing this blog, my beautiful family is still sleeping. I get my best writing done when it's quiet. In the quiet, Jesus can come along with me. He's quietly speaking truth to me as I write this. I sit in this chair writing, realizing yet again that we will miss church because of my illness, and Jesus is still speaking truth.

Quietly.

Quietly, He tells me that I am enough. I am wonderfully made. I am beloved. I am worthy.

As tears roll down my face, he never stops telling me how much He loves me. He reminds me yet again that all of my worries and fears are not important. He assures me that He will be here for me always. He quiets my spirit.

I am so blessed, my friends.

40 is just a number.

Life is amazing.  

If I could leave you with one thought on this beautiful Sunday Morning, it would be this:
No matter what you are facing, God's got it.  

Looking back, it seems silly to have been so stressed out about getting older. It is a privilege denied to many. Sometimes, however, my worries are not so trivial. It's good to know that Jesus goes along with me, no matter the circumstances. He will never leave me.

Of this I am certain.

Buffering......

Friends, I'm tired. 

Not just "get a good night's sleep and you'll be fine" tired, but I'm "wake me up, and I'll come after you and your ancestors" tired.

So, at least for now, I'll be writing much less. Consider it a pause. A break. Buffering.

In the meantime, enjoy these photos of our new guinea pigs, Marshmallow and Butterscotch. They are so adorable!

Here they are in their new playpen.

My cutie pie with cuties of her own!

See you soon.

The In-Between

So much of life is neither black nor white. We usually live in the great in-between. You know, that huge span between what is right or wrong, yes or no, black or white, conservative or liberal? I think most of us spend a great deal of time there. I never thought that I did, but boy was I wrong! I suppose you are wanting some examples, so I will share just a few recent ones.

Today, I took my older daughter to the doctor. She came home early from school yesterday with a fever. Now, the right thing to do when your child is sick can be debatable. Everyone has their own system of dealing with sick kids. My system is to wait a day or so to go to the doctor unless it is an obvious emergency. My girl woke up this morning with a fever again, and she was also achy from head to toe. I knew she needed to see the doctor. So, we ate and got ready to go. At the office, the doc looked her over and declared that she had strep. Now, the good mom would have taken said kid home, and then returned to the store to pick up meds, right? We wouldn't want to infect others, right? Okay, so here is one of those gray areas for me. We went to the store together and I picked up her meds. We had to wait, so I did the rest of my shopping while I was there. I should have taken her home, and then gone back. I know this. I also know that a twenty minute trip to the store would have then become an extra hour of travel for me, so I just went. Now you know why I ALWAYS clean the shopping cart when I shop. ALWAYS.

After we got home, big girl was tired and achy, so she did not want lunch. My sweet husband had asked the little one if she wanted lunch, and she said she was not hungry. It was almost two o'clock. Neither of my girls ate lunch today. Was it because we are bad parents? We know that children require food more than once a day. However, after preparing at least a hundred uneaten meals over the years, we do not push our kids to eat.

We don't eat when we're not hungry, so why should they? Consequently, our girls did not get lunch today. Now, I will finish this story by saying that I made supper at 4:30 because everyone but Dad was hungry. Instead of endless snacking, I made them eat a meal. I suppose that sort of makes up for the lunch, right? RIGHT??

The last example that I will give from today (yes, I said today) happened right before that meal that I made my girls eat. I needed a few things from the store, and my sweet little one wanted to go with me. Now, this girl had gone to a sleepover last night, and she looked ROUGH. I mean tangled hair, same socks as yesterday, and questionable hygiene rough. I took her anyway because who doesn't want to spend some time with their kiddos after they've been gone? We are standing in the line, trying hard to just get in and out of the store. You know what that's like, friends. Just ring me up so I can pay, right? Right. Well, I needed some female products, and they were not ringing up correctly, so the cashier yells to the cashier a few aisles over to ask what to do. At this point, I'm like,"Okay, this is okay." I proceed to tell her that I will quickly get one that will ring up. I bring it back, and the cashier is still loudly discussing my product with the cashier a few aisles away. Then, some lady a few customers back starts complaining to the cashier that I am not getting my money's worth! At this point, she's yelling at the cashier, I'm embarrassed, and the cashier is clueless. I lost my temper. I asked the cashier (a little louder that I'd like to admit) if she would please just ring me up so I can leave.

Utter mom fail, I know. I had every right to be upset, but I did not have the right to lose my temper.

Sigh.

The line between right and wrong, or any of those other glorious absolutes that I mentioned earlier, can be a little fuzzy at times. Some days, like today, I feel like I live in the in-between. This is not always a bad thing. It allows me to be flexible when change needs to happen. It allows me to view both sides of a situation and see the merits (and flaws) of each. It gives me empathy for those who need a little extra grace.

I feel blessed to have a personality that lets me see the in-between. Some people, like my younger daughter, aren't so fortunate. It's truly hard for her to see why people can't just follow the rules! WHY do some kids get in trouble all the time? WHY do I have to tell her maybe all the time? WHY are some people nice one day and mean the next day? She can't understand breaking the rules for a just reason any more than she can understand why it's sometimes okay to have pie for breakfast. I said SOMETIMES! Come on, people!

So, why have I spent all of this time confessing my sins to you? Why am I advocating, yes advocating, for people to see shades of gray?

All we need to do is look around. Life is hard, and the right choices are not always the easiest to see. Sometimes we make mistakes, and so do the others around us. We are not perfect. When we see everything as only right or wrong, we miss the opportunity to reach out to the hurting. We judge them instead of trying to understand. If we can't understand why a mother would steal to feed her child, we put her in jail instead of feeding her family. Our ability to empathize with others is tied to being able to see things from someone else's perspective. I think we have lost this ability as a nation. We can no longer see past our own experiences to relate to our neighbors.

I have a firm foundation in God's Word, and I know the difference between right and wrong. However, I know that even Jesus bent the rules a time or two. He didn't stone the adultress. He asked for mercy from her accusers instead. He didn't back away from her just because she had broken God's law. He helped her and told her the truth.

I believe we should do no less when we encounter someone who is having an in-between kind of day. The world would be a much better place if we did.

Be the Good

I'm tired, friends. My whole soul aches with exhaustion.

I don't think that I've ever heard a quote that resonates with me more than this one. The world is an ugly place.

What has happened to common decency?
What has happened to love and kindness?
What has happened to empathy for those who are different from ourselves?

The world is ugly. and we perpetuate this ugliness every time we use our voices to tear others down instead of building them up. We make it worse by saying nothing when we read a post full of lies and gossip. It's okay to be angry, it means you care about something. It's okay to be outraged by evil, it means you know the meaning of good. It is NOT okay to take that anger and outrage and do something even worse. Temper tantrums are for toddlers, and most of them get in trouble for it.

Why do we still have bullying in school, even after so much effort has been made to eradicate it? Go on Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter and you will quickly understand. We are a nation of anything goes.

"I have freedom of speech, and I will say what I want, darn it! Who cares who it hurts? This is my opinion, and I WILL say it!" 

Is this any different from the mean girl on the playground telling the chubby girl that she is gross? As responsible adults, we should be the ones instructing our children on how to behave, but so many of us don't even know how. Why is it okay to say something online that we would not say in person? Who cares if they live hundreds of miles away? That is still a real person. Would we speak to our mothers or children that way? Would we allow someone else to speak to them that way?

Friends, I know it sounds like I am soap-boxing, and maybe I am, but I can't help but think of all of the things that are happening in the world and in our country. The Internet has become one giant mean girl, and we are all her snickering friends. I know I am just as guilty as anyone else of becoming too excited or worked up over what someone else has said, and spitting out a reply. Would I have said it to that person's face? No, I would not have. That's not the type of person I am. Why should it be any different on the Internet?

It shouldn't.

Things like this have become the norm.

This is what we have become. We have made it perfectly acceptable for adults to openly make fun of 10 year old kids on the Internet. Why is this okay? Because she is a writer for a popular show, it makes it fine? I don't think so. It's not even accurate, but that's not even an issue these days. Bullies never worry that what they say is accurate.

This is not okay. 

As a society we must stand up to the mean girls (and boys) of the world. We must call out the ugly. We must drag this darkness into the light. And we must do it with love, compassion, and truth.

Lord, help us to be kind and loving, even to those that don't deserve it. Save us from our own selfish desire to be right. Help us to find the good and try to understand one another. Please help us to lift up our fellow man and become a better society in the process.

Maybe then, the world won't seem so ugly.

Joe Schmo

Ugh. Not another person smirking when he gave them his name.
"Yes, my name is actually Joe Schmo. My parents had a real sense of humor," Joe responded to the cashier with as much patience as possible.

All he wanted was his six pack of Bud, but here he was,explaining yet again why he had the worst name on the planet. He really needed the beer tonight. It helped to calm his nerves, and boy were they on fire! She actually looked at him tonight. She talked to him! He couldn't believe how it had happened. She was just lined up outside of her apartment when he strode past, dropping his wallet.
"Sir! Sir, you dropped this!" she had called to him, handing him his wallet. She touched this, he thought, rubbing his wallet.

"Here's your change, Mr. Schmo," the cashier handed him the change from his beer. Joe could tell the man was going to die laughing as soon as he walked away.
"Thanks, buddy," Joe replied. He took the change and the beer and walked out of the Casey's. He needed to get home to his Bud. Yes, he definitely needed to get home.

Joe Schmo lived in an apartment across the street from Lucy Godfrey. His apartment looked right into the front room windows. At least that's what the last tenant said when she moved out. "I feel like he's always watching me," she had said. She was right. He was always watching. He liked to watch Lucy, too. She was so sweet, and it was obvious that she loved her little cat. That fat, stupid cat, thought Joe. It always meowed whenever he got near the door. It was like the cat could sense that he was there or something. Joe hated that cat.

"I'm not gonna worry about that damn cat tonight!" Joe shouted into his empty apartment. He had his Bud and his "glasses" and the TV turned on just loud enough. No one would ever know. Not now, not ever, Joe thought. He wasn't hurting anyone, he kept telling himself. He would never actually go into the apartment. He just liked to walk past the door and smell Lucy. She always smelled so good. No. Lucy was just for watching, we don't touch.

Joe settled into his easy chair with his binoculars and his Bud, and the show began.

My Children Ruined My Life! (and it was the BEST thing that ever happened to me.)

WARNING: EXTREMELY EMOTIONAL POST AHEAD

Boy, that title probably sounds a little harsh, right? Oh, I could've put it another way, but that is exactly the way it came to me. Now, please allow me to explain.

Sooooooo, I'm turning 40 this year. The big 4-0. I know to many people it's probably no big deal. In fact, my age has never been a big deal to me either. I mean, getting old is better than the alternative, right? For some reason, however, the last few weeks have made me really sit and contemplate my life. (Sickness has a funny way of doing that to you.)

I have a great life, and I am blessed in so many ways, but when I sat and really thought about it, I realized that I don't even recognize the life that I live. That probably doesn't even make sense, but haven't you ever felt like you were living someone else's life? This is definitely not what I signed up for all those years ago. What happened?

Well, life happened.

You know, when I was 18 I thought I had the whole world figured out, and I was going to set the world on fire. Some of that fire still lives in me today, but it's more of an ember than a blaze these days. What is it about youth that is so arrogant? I mean, did we actually know anything at that age? When I went off to college, I had no clue that everything I thought I knew about my future would turn out to be wrong. I did not turn out to be a lawyer (Injustice still bugs me, though.) I did not become a history teacher (other people's kids, 'nuff said.) I did not marry the boy I had the biggest crush on in high school (I met my husband at 19.) I don't live in the city. I don't have a fancy house. I hate going out. I could go on and on, but you get the point. I was such a dreamer at 18, but God had other plans for me.

Most of you know me, but for those of you who don't, let me tell you a bit about myself.

I am a writer, not a teacher or a lawyer. I also work part time at a great family run business in my small town. I married my college sweetheart, and a week later we moved away from everyone we knew to a tiny town in South Central Illinois.

My husband is a teacher and he's fabulous. My husband and I became followers of Christ shortly after we got married. After many failed attempts, we have two wonderful daughters who are ages 12 and 9.

We also have a guinea pig named Chewie. Trust me, it's a fitting name. Our home is tiny and usually a wreck despite my OCD tendencies. I live everyday with Hashimoto's disease, which has significantly changed my ideas of success.  I guess that covers the important stuff.

When I look at that last paragraph, I have mixed feelings. I wonder what the 18 year old version of me would say about my life.

Am I successful?
Are you disappointed?
Is it enough?

You see, I don't think the 18 year old me would even recognize the 40 year old me. Life has changed me so much. However, I am coming to realize that one of the greatest gifts of age is wisdom. Wisdom is not a gift that is granted, but one that is earned. I earned all those wrinkles around my eyes by laughing at my husband's jokes and my girls' giggles. I earned those stripes by persevering through six pregnancies and two deliveries. I earned those wrinkles between my eyes by facing life's challenges and trying to learn the lesson and find the blessing.

Wisdom is earned, my friends.

So as I sit writing this blog as my family sleeps, I wonder what my life would look life if it had gone the way I had planned. I have a feeling it would have been so empty and lonely.  I'm so thankful that God's wisdom kept me from following a path that was not for me. I love my life, even if it is not what I'd planned. I am almost forty, and I now know what real priorities are. I know what real love looks like. (Hint: it looks much more like a hospital ward than a flower shop.) I know now that success looks different for everyone. Some days just getting through the day is success.

So is it fair to say that my children (and my husband) ruined my life? Yes. They ruined the life that was never meant to be mine anyway.

I'm so glad that they did, and I bet younger me would agree. She always was a smart cookie. 😉

Lucy Godfrey

As she turned the key in her apartment door, Lucy Godfrey reflected back upon the bewildering events of the evening. After getting off work from her crummy desk job, she had stopped to pick up some much needed groceries and supplies for her new place. Arriving home, she found her apartment building swarming with cops and emergency service workers. No one was being allowed into the building without a painstaking interview with the officer in charge, and he was taking his job very seriously. Lucy was surprised that he hadn't asked for a urine sample and a birth certificate! Eventually, a call to her landlord was made for verification, and she was allowed to go up to her apartment. This is not what happens to a girl from Small Town, USA, thankyouverymuch, she thought to herself.

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she didn't realize that the door was already unlocked, so she locked it again. Finally getting the door open, she rushed inside, dropping packages and groceries along the way to her bedroom. "Finally!" she sighed as she slumped down on her bed and began to unzip her boots. While the sexy Italian leather boots were perfect for date night, they were not the best choice for waiting outside in the cold for an hour, and her feet were screaming. She was so enraptured by the new feeling in her toes that her normally keen senses were not alerted by the bathroom door that was slightly ajar. Or by the absence of her cantankerous cat, Moe.

"Gee, Moe, I wasn't sure I'd ever make it home," Lucy said. "You should have seen all the people! You would've hated it! Apparently, some old lady from downstairs finally ate it today. Cops everywhere!

 Hey, Moe?

 Mooooeee!

 Here, kitty, kitty!

 Moe?"

Lucy instantly noticed how quiet the apartment was. Not that it was normally a bustling thoroughfare, but at least Moe usually greeted her when she came home. Now, there was nothing but the muted sounds of emergency workers finishing up downstairs. Suddenly, St. Louis seemed like a very lonely place to Lucy, and she really wanted Moe.

"Moe! Here, kitty, kitty!" Lucy called once again.

Stepping gingerly onto her aching feet, Lucy got off of her bed and began to search for Moe. She didn't even bother with under her bed. A mouse would be lucky to fit under there, much less her twenty pound long haired cat. She made it across the room to her bathroom door, which she normally left shut for obvious reasons, but which was cracked open now. Senses tingling, Lucy picked up the nearest thing she could find to use as a weapon. Closing her hand on the neck of her guitar, she picked it up like a bat, ready to strike. Using her foot, she swung the door open just as Moe jumped out of the bathtub.

Shrieking loudly, Lucy took a swing at the air!

"Holy cow, Moe, you just about got it!" Lucy screamed at the startled cat.

Dropping to the floor to scoop up Moe, Lucy let out a nervous laugh. Stroking the fur on the back of Moe's neck, Lucy said,"You scared me half to death, Moe. How'd you get in here, huh?" Hugging the cat close, Lucy stood up and moved in front of the mirror, and began to tremble.

Written on the mirror in Lucy's favorite pink lipstick were the words:

SEE YOU NEXT TIME, LUCY.

Hope Springs Eternal

"Hope springs eternal in the human breast; Man never is, but always to be Blest."

Alexander Pope

 Ahhhh, another new year has come upon us.

It's always funny to me that people make New Year's resolutions. I've never quite understood it. We are just moving from one day to the next. What's the big deal? We party and celebrate the new year like it magically becomes something great just because it is a new number. Why? Won't our troubles be the same tomorrow as they are today? Won't we be the same people with the same bills, the same family, the same job, and the same bad habits when we wake up from our celebration?

Yes, we will. Everything will be exactly the same. Well, almost the same.

Humans are so weird. We remember tomorrows and plan for the future. I think we might be the only species on the planet that gets so wrapped up in time. Oh sure, some animals plan to hibernate or experience different life cycles and they prepare for those things, but they are not picking out a retirement plan and creating a will. Only humans do this.

But, why?

I have a theory. Humans, regardless of who we are, are hopeful by nature. We have hope for a better day. We believe in our hearts that everything will work out in the end. If we can't get to this point, somehow there is something wrong with us. Why? Because the natural human condition is hopeful. We have to believe in better days ahead. It helps us to move on with today, and tackle whatever problems come along the way.

We need hope.

So, back to the whole resolutions thing. Why do we waste our time making resolutions? It is a fact that a majority of New Year's resolutions never come to fruition. We have a tendency to sink back in to the same patterns and habits that we had in the previous year. Why do we waste our time, then? Hope. Hope says tomorrow will be better. Hope says you can be better than you are today. Hope says the impossible is possible.

Hope says I can get up at 6 for a run everyday (even though I have a hard time functioning at 6:30.) Hope says I can be a nicer person to my family (even though I'm trying not to scream at them in my head. Right. Now.) Hope says I can learn to pray before I respond with harsh words. Hope says I can be more diligent about doing the dishes. Hope says I can be better at reading my Bible. Hope says: Life. Will. Be. Better.

Why would God make us this way? Why would He put an undying hope in our hearts? As I've said before, I'm not a theologian, but I do have an opinion. I believe he put hope in our hearts so we will know that this life is not the end. There is more, so much more, waiting for us with Him. I think He wants us to realize that life can be better than it is. It draws us to Him. It makes us pray. It brings us to our knees asking for forgiveness to be better. To do better. God understands our nature so well (He did make us, after all!) that He knew we needed hope to draw us to Him.

As the new year starts, and we all try to do better, let me encourage you today. God has a plan for you. He knows what you need. Trust Him, and let this be your year of hope.