My six year old made a comment to me several months ago that went something like this: "Mommy, you play on your phone all the time." At that moment, I was actually responding to something important, so I pointed that out to her. A few weeks later, she said again, "Mommy, you are on your phone sending messages all the time." Each time she said it, I automatically felt and acted defensive. The problem? She was right. Don't you just hate it when that happens?
We live in a world that is very "social"...Well, maybe we should say we are very "connected"...No, that's not exactly right either. What are we then? I have over 1,000 "friends" on my Facebook, and this blog has been viewed a little over 9,500 times. Wow, I must have some social life, huh? NOPE!
Social media can be a great tool. It keeps me in touch with my family that lives 500 miles away, it helps me stay up to date on old friends from high school who I otherwise would have lost touch with completely, and it has helped me to "talk" more with people who were just acquaintances before. However, it doesn't help me to never feel lonely, and I surely don't feel more social. What does it do more often than help me stay connected? It disconnects me from those who are right in front of me.
In order for us to feel that we are "up" on what's going on in our news feed, we must constantly check in. That means, when I'm playing with my kids, I'm constantly scrolling my Facebook. When I'm visiting with a friend, I'm commenting on posts and pictures. When I go stay with my parents who live away from me, I'm seeing what is going on back in my hometown. I'm so connected to online people, that the flesh and blood in front of me is being ignored. It feeds a loneliness, because I leave these moments feeling unfulfilled. We take our phones into doctor's office waiting rooms to fill the time, thus ignoring those around us. We occupy ourselves on road trips, thus leaving the driver in his/her own silence. Why?
I asked myself why it is that we can't give those who are with us our presence. I don't want to just sit in the room with someone, I want their attention. I don't think that is too much to ask. I also don't think that is too much to give. It is safe to say that in my life and the lives of many of those close to me, time is as precious of a commodity as money. Time is dear to us, yet we waste what we have by ignoring our friends and family so that we can stay "connected". Shame on us.
This very post has been marinating in my mind for a while, and every time I thought about not writing it, something spoke to me about it in the form of a commercial, a Facebook post, or even an online video. I didn't know why, but last night as I was laying in bed, it finally hit me. God wants our presence too. Ouch. I spend so much time talking about and working for God, that I know He sometimes feels like that friend sitting across from me at lunch eating in silence while I scroll through my news feed. I'm going to be honest, as I prayed, I mostly had to apologize for giving my time, but not my presence. How hurt He must feel! How lonely my mind and soul felt after all that silence between us.
I am not saying that is anything wrong with social media. I love it. I use it. I don't see either of those things changing. However, let's learn to not cling to people who may or may not be sincere, who may or may not even be who they claim. Let's give those around us the best gift of all, OUR PRESENCE! It was not easy to set my phone down upstairs at my mother's house and go downstairs to sit with her. What if someone needed to get in touch with me? What if something important happened and I didn't know? What if someone needed prayer and I missed it? You know what? It was wonderful. No, I didn't get to post twenty pictures of all of us sitting around chatting, but I also didn't miss half of every conversation that occurred. They had my presence. AND THEY NOTICED!
As women, mothers, wives, friends, etc, let's give those around us our presence. Let's touch the lives of those who are right here with us. Let's be present in the lives of our children. Let's be present in our relationships with God. That is my challenge for all of us, here is my prayer:
God, we love You. We love our children, our husbands, our families, and our friends. Help us to give them all of us when we are in their presence. Help us to give You our best attention. Keep us from distractions, even those that are well intended, so that we can truly connect to those who are important in our lives. We praise and love You, amen.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Confidence vs. Entitlement
I think we can all see the bothersome trend in generations today of a sense of entitlement. It seems to have started with my generation, but as a teacher, I can see it progressing. It seems that among children, those who work the hardest in school and extracurricular activities tend to have the biggest sense of entitlement. I've heard students (and even their parents) say things like, "I'm a perfect student, can't you just overlook this one little thing?" or "I'm an athlete; I can't get in trouble." The insinuation is that a "good" kid should get a break from the rules, because he/she usually tries to follow them. As Christians, don't we also sometimes have this same sense of entitlement? "I
serve You, God, so I shouldn't have to deal with this issue." Or maybe, "I try so
hard, Lord, why can't something in my life just go right?" Maybe I'm
the only one guilty of this.
In response to the trend, there is a rather disturbing answer. I see parents all around me who do not want their children to grow up with a sense of entitlement, so they make sure to tell their children constantly that the world "owes them nothing" and "they have to work for everything they get in life" and"nothing is ever free or easy". These statements are true, but sometimes the ideas are taken too far. In addition, they tend to point out their children's flaws so that their children don't think that they are superior to anyone, and therefore deserving special treatment because of being better. They don't mean to tear them down, they just want to show them that others are just a special and deserving as them. Sadly, the lesson seems to eventually lead to a child who has no confidence at all. They seem browbeaten and humbled to the point of....I don't even know, shame, worthlessness, hopelessness? It's most sad to me because I know most of these parents mean well. They really do just want their children to know that they have to work for what they earn in life. They don't mean to tear down the confidence that they are supposed to be building.
I worry about these issues with my own children, and, after a particularly hard day with Princess, I felt myself struggling with these two opposites. She made comments that sounded very entitled, and without even knowing what I was doing, I began pointing out that God gives us things, not because we can possibly deserve them, but because He loves us in spite of our flaws. I saw her start to crumble emotionally and realized what I was doing. I immediately repented to God for failing to build up the fragile heart he had put under my care. As equally importantly, I apologized to my little Princess and reminded her that she was "fearfully and wonderfully made", and I took a more gentle route of explanation. At that moment, I began to ponder in my heart how a parent could walk the line between confidence, which we are in charge of building in our children, and the entitlement attitude that the world will try to get them to adopt.
Let's see what the Bible says about how we build our children:
Ephesians 6:4 ESV Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.
Proverbs 23:13 Do not withhold discipline from a child
Psalms 127:3-5 Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb, a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.
In response to the trend, there is a rather disturbing answer. I see parents all around me who do not want their children to grow up with a sense of entitlement, so they make sure to tell their children constantly that the world "owes them nothing" and "they have to work for everything they get in life" and"nothing is ever free or easy". These statements are true, but sometimes the ideas are taken too far. In addition, they tend to point out their children's flaws so that their children don't think that they are superior to anyone, and therefore deserving special treatment because of being better. They don't mean to tear them down, they just want to show them that others are just a special and deserving as them. Sadly, the lesson seems to eventually lead to a child who has no confidence at all. They seem browbeaten and humbled to the point of....I don't even know, shame, worthlessness, hopelessness? It's most sad to me because I know most of these parents mean well. They really do just want their children to know that they have to work for what they earn in life. They don't mean to tear down the confidence that they are supposed to be building.
I worry about these issues with my own children, and, after a particularly hard day with Princess, I felt myself struggling with these two opposites. She made comments that sounded very entitled, and without even knowing what I was doing, I began pointing out that God gives us things, not because we can possibly deserve them, but because He loves us in spite of our flaws. I saw her start to crumble emotionally and realized what I was doing. I immediately repented to God for failing to build up the fragile heart he had put under my care. As equally importantly, I apologized to my little Princess and reminded her that she was "fearfully and wonderfully made", and I took a more gentle route of explanation. At that moment, I began to ponder in my heart how a parent could walk the line between confidence, which we are in charge of building in our children, and the entitlement attitude that the world will try to get them to adopt.
Let's see what the Bible says about how we build our children:
Ephesians 6:4 ESV Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.
Proverbs 23:13 Do not withhold discipline from a child
Psalms 127:3-5 Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb, a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
a strong willed child against a crappy job
Picture this: You have put all of your dear children to sleep after a long, stressful day. You sit down on the couch to watch your show (the one chance you get a day to relax and be entertained). Just as your mind begins to check out for a while, you hear the padding of little feet down the hallway, and you believe that one of your little cherubs is coming for one last goodnight kiss. Sure enough, little Tank with his angel grin comes into the room. You notice he is holding his hands out and mumbling something. You see that there is something on his hands, and your mind goes to the worst case scenario...Yep, poop. There are lots of glamorous moments in parenting life, but there is NOTHING glamorous about potty training (even when the job is done). Why on earth would he poop and then proceed to try and take care of the problem himself? How on earth does the amount of poop that comes out of a toddler turn into so much when smeared on every surface in his room (can I get an amen)? How on earth do you get his clothes off and him in the tub without getting in on his face? (I resisted the urge to just cut it down the back) WHY? WHY? WHY? I say with no apologies that I HATE potty training. I have actually offered to pay my mother to do it for me. She refused. I understand why though, it's a crappy job, literally.
Okay, so it's been forever since I have posted, and mostly it's because I have been waiting to tell you about my successfully potty trained twins. Alas, I am still fighting the fight in this crappy job called potty training. With Princess, potty training was a breeze: we had a heart to heart explaining why she should use the potty, we talked about how big girls didn't wear diapers, and voila, she was well on her way. It wasn't flawless, but once we actually went through with it, she understood the point and tried her best. I always thought she was pretty strong willed, but she was also eager to please which helped the process. Enter Tinker Belle.
Here's the thing about Tinker Belle, she does NOT CARE if big girls use the potty, she does NOT CARE if going pee pee in her panties equals a puddle in the floor and icky legs. She does NOT want to use the potty. We, my friends, are at an impasse. Dean and I have no idea where to go from here. I have felt horribly about this for months. It's not that I thought potty training would be super easy with twins, but I simply feel like I can't reach them, and Tinker in particular. I can't get her to understand the importance of potty training. She simply won't take it seriously. Then I realized, "SHE'S TWO! Not much is important in her eyes right now. It's not the end of the world!" My kid won't use the potty. Big stinking deal. Why, then, do I feel like my kids should be fully potty trained at two and a half?...Well, here's my thinking. I have said before that I think every moment in life lends itself to a spiritual lesson. Here are a few lessons that I've recently picked up from my "crappy job" of potty training.
1. I'm prideful when it comes to my kids. --This is a sin I work on constantly in my life. I want them to look, act, and feel perfect at all times. Obviously, with a blog bearing this name, I do not feel that I ever reach that moment for long. The sin is still there, and once I realized early in motherhood that I was putting unneeded pressure on Princess in order to achieve perfection, I tried to stop the behavior and assess the cause. I have worked nonstop for the better part of five years to lay off a little when it comes to Princess. I had to realize that when Psalms says, "I am fearfully and wonderfully made", it means that our little personality quirks are part of that as well. Sometimes she doesn't want to match. Who cares? Sometimes she doesn't want to sing that cute song for people. Big deal. The twins have taught me so much about letting go and not "sweating the small stuff". Not enough, I suppose. I decided this week that my untrained twins are teaching me a little humility in a good way. I have always believed I can do the things I set my mind to; however, my heart needs to be in the right place. At this moment, I want to be able to say that my kids are all potty trained just out of vanity. Lord, forgive me. What a silly girl I am. One day, when they are grown and leaving home to start life on their own, I seriously doubt that they will hold it against me that I didn't have them potty trained by two and a half.
2. The mommy pressure.--My mother thinks that two years old is the perfect age for potty training. My brother and I were both trained at two, and she assures me that I was not an easy student in the school of potty use. I suppose I feel, as most girls do, that my mom knows everything about motherhood, and therefore, I should copy her model for everything. It's not working right now. I'm trying mom. I just can't seem to handle pee in my floor as gracefully as you must have. I cry sometimes when dealing with poop. Here's the thing, my mother was/is, in my opinion, the best version of mother in the world. She is most definitely a Proverbs 31 woman, and her children definitely rose up "and called her blessed".
3. I don't like failure.--Now some of you will think this is silly, but I'm betting lots of you mommies out there will understand this one. In my rational mind, I know that not having my kids potty trained yet even though I have tried to do so, does not equal failure. However, there is always that part of me that sees every delay as a failure. I know that one day the twins will be potty trained. However, a part of me feels that I evidently have not tried hard enough or they would be trained now. I have always been blessed with a great sense of self worth. Critics don't bother me much, because there are few people in this world I try to please. (My mother has always found this amusing and refreshing since I actually get along with most people in my life despite this fact.) On the flip side, I have always been really hard on myself. I don't really need anyone to point out flaws, because I can guarantee you, I have already noticed them. I finally realized this to be a spiritual problem when I was out of college and working. I needed a goal, an immediate goal, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't have one. I always relied on the fact that I was smart, motivated, and blessed. There are times in life, though, where a little dose of failure can be healthy. 2 Corinthians 12:9 tells us, 9“'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me." Am I saying this applies to my weakness in potty training? Not necessarily, but I do think that there's a hint of something in it for me in this situation. It tells me that I don't have to be able to do everything. I don't have to be strong in every area. I don't have to be the perfect mother in my own strength, because I have a God who is a perfect parent and who will help me along the way.
I know that one day I will look back on this potty training moment in life and chuckle about it. I know that far more difficult situations are on their way. Therefore, I am choosing to be thankful that this is even an issue in my life, because that means I must be pretty blessed to be worried with it. I laughed the other day when my mom asked me how potty training was going. I said, "Well, the optimist in me wants to tell you that Tinker Belle used the potty once. The pessimist in me wants to tell you that she peed in the floor five times. You pick which one you listen too." That's how we are in life though, right? We try to look at the bright side, but the clouds roll right in. Here's my prayer for any mother who is in a moment where she is struggling to succeed. Maybe you too are trying to potty train. Maybe you're struggling to breastfeed. Maybe you are trying to get back your prodical child. Maybe you are getting ready to send your new graduate out into a scary world, and you just don't feel ready. Either way, let's lift each other up:
Dear God, thank You for being a God who cares about the small things. Thank You for seeing my details and concerning yourself with them. Help me to keep my perspective in life. Forgive me for my vanity. Forgive me for thinking myself so strong that I don't seek you in every moment of my life. Draw me towards You. If failing makes me better, then God, let me fail. You are the only success I need in life. Help my friends who are dealing with issues different and bigger than mine. Bless them, Lord, and touch their hearts. We praise You, we praise You, we praise You. Amen.
Okay, so it's been forever since I have posted, and mostly it's because I have been waiting to tell you about my successfully potty trained twins. Alas, I am still fighting the fight in this crappy job called potty training. With Princess, potty training was a breeze: we had a heart to heart explaining why she should use the potty, we talked about how big girls didn't wear diapers, and voila, she was well on her way. It wasn't flawless, but once we actually went through with it, she understood the point and tried her best. I always thought she was pretty strong willed, but she was also eager to please which helped the process. Enter Tinker Belle.
Here's the thing about Tinker Belle, she does NOT CARE if big girls use the potty, she does NOT CARE if going pee pee in her panties equals a puddle in the floor and icky legs. She does NOT want to use the potty. We, my friends, are at an impasse. Dean and I have no idea where to go from here. I have felt horribly about this for months. It's not that I thought potty training would be super easy with twins, but I simply feel like I can't reach them, and Tinker in particular. I can't get her to understand the importance of potty training. She simply won't take it seriously. Then I realized, "SHE'S TWO! Not much is important in her eyes right now. It's not the end of the world!" My kid won't use the potty. Big stinking deal. Why, then, do I feel like my kids should be fully potty trained at two and a half?...Well, here's my thinking. I have said before that I think every moment in life lends itself to a spiritual lesson. Here are a few lessons that I've recently picked up from my "crappy job" of potty training.
1. I'm prideful when it comes to my kids. --This is a sin I work on constantly in my life. I want them to look, act, and feel perfect at all times. Obviously, with a blog bearing this name, I do not feel that I ever reach that moment for long. The sin is still there, and once I realized early in motherhood that I was putting unneeded pressure on Princess in order to achieve perfection, I tried to stop the behavior and assess the cause. I have worked nonstop for the better part of five years to lay off a little when it comes to Princess. I had to realize that when Psalms says, "I am fearfully and wonderfully made", it means that our little personality quirks are part of that as well. Sometimes she doesn't want to match. Who cares? Sometimes she doesn't want to sing that cute song for people. Big deal. The twins have taught me so much about letting go and not "sweating the small stuff". Not enough, I suppose. I decided this week that my untrained twins are teaching me a little humility in a good way. I have always believed I can do the things I set my mind to; however, my heart needs to be in the right place. At this moment, I want to be able to say that my kids are all potty trained just out of vanity. Lord, forgive me. What a silly girl I am. One day, when they are grown and leaving home to start life on their own, I seriously doubt that they will hold it against me that I didn't have them potty trained by two and a half.
2. The mommy pressure.--My mother thinks that two years old is the perfect age for potty training. My brother and I were both trained at two, and she assures me that I was not an easy student in the school of potty use. I suppose I feel, as most girls do, that my mom knows everything about motherhood, and therefore, I should copy her model for everything. It's not working right now. I'm trying mom. I just can't seem to handle pee in my floor as gracefully as you must have. I cry sometimes when dealing with poop. Here's the thing, my mother was/is, in my opinion, the best version of mother in the world. She is most definitely a Proverbs 31 woman, and her children definitely rose up "and called her blessed".
3. I don't like failure.--Now some of you will think this is silly, but I'm betting lots of you mommies out there will understand this one. In my rational mind, I know that not having my kids potty trained yet even though I have tried to do so, does not equal failure. However, there is always that part of me that sees every delay as a failure. I know that one day the twins will be potty trained. However, a part of me feels that I evidently have not tried hard enough or they would be trained now. I have always been blessed with a great sense of self worth. Critics don't bother me much, because there are few people in this world I try to please. (My mother has always found this amusing and refreshing since I actually get along with most people in my life despite this fact.) On the flip side, I have always been really hard on myself. I don't really need anyone to point out flaws, because I can guarantee you, I have already noticed them. I finally realized this to be a spiritual problem when I was out of college and working. I needed a goal, an immediate goal, and for the first time in a long time, I didn't have one. I always relied on the fact that I was smart, motivated, and blessed. There are times in life, though, where a little dose of failure can be healthy. 2 Corinthians 12:9 tells us, 9“'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me." Am I saying this applies to my weakness in potty training? Not necessarily, but I do think that there's a hint of something in it for me in this situation. It tells me that I don't have to be able to do everything. I don't have to be strong in every area. I don't have to be the perfect mother in my own strength, because I have a God who is a perfect parent and who will help me along the way.
I know that one day I will look back on this potty training moment in life and chuckle about it. I know that far more difficult situations are on their way. Therefore, I am choosing to be thankful that this is even an issue in my life, because that means I must be pretty blessed to be worried with it. I laughed the other day when my mom asked me how potty training was going. I said, "Well, the optimist in me wants to tell you that Tinker Belle used the potty once. The pessimist in me wants to tell you that she peed in the floor five times. You pick which one you listen too." That's how we are in life though, right? We try to look at the bright side, but the clouds roll right in. Here's my prayer for any mother who is in a moment where she is struggling to succeed. Maybe you too are trying to potty train. Maybe you're struggling to breastfeed. Maybe you are trying to get back your prodical child. Maybe you are getting ready to send your new graduate out into a scary world, and you just don't feel ready. Either way, let's lift each other up:
Dear God, thank You for being a God who cares about the small things. Thank You for seeing my details and concerning yourself with them. Help me to keep my perspective in life. Forgive me for my vanity. Forgive me for thinking myself so strong that I don't seek you in every moment of my life. Draw me towards You. If failing makes me better, then God, let me fail. You are the only success I need in life. Help my friends who are dealing with issues different and bigger than mine. Bless them, Lord, and touch their hearts. We praise You, we praise You, we praise You. Amen.
Friday, November 29, 2013
Keeping Mommy healthy
"Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body." 1 Corinthians 6:19-20
I know that I'm probably the least consistent blogger of all time, and I love you for staying with me. In all honesty, I always think of and miss my blog when I'm not actively working on it. However, my blog seems like a little joy that is easily stolen. Dinner must be made, laundry must be done, but my newest post? Well, that can wait. And it does so much more often than it should. I blogged almost a year ago about going through a spiritual storm. That storm ebbed and flowed for a long time. It started before I posted about it, and it continued to be a bit of a struggle afterwards. I was suffering from chronic fatigue and headaches, and those physical struggles caused me some spiritual setbacks. When I would go to my doctors, they would try their best to treat me, and they would sympathize with my symptoms, but nothing seemed to offer any relief. Eventually, I just gave up and took the medications that would treat the symptoms. They continued.
I love that modern medicine can do so much for us. However, I think sometimes we as patients limit the medical field. When I would go to the doctor, it would be when I had finally gotten so tired, and then sick from lowered immunity, that I was treated for something that was an effect of the problem. A few months ago, I found myself at my wits end. I had made life changes such as transferring to a teaching position where I would be under less stress, I had worked on my spiritual growth, and I was not "sweating the small things" (as much). It seemed to help a little, but I was still having far too many migraines, and I was absolutely exhausted all of the time. One weekend, I was so tired, I barely got off of the couch. My husband was afraid of what was wrong. Something had to change.
I decided to explore new options. After struggling over a year, I went to a woman's health specialist. My mother highly recommended a doctor not too far out of town, and honestly, I wanted to go to a doctor who had never met me. It's hard for me to convince anyone who knows what my life is like that I'm more exhausted than I should be. I work full time, I have three "lively" children, and I do extra things on the side; my life is busy. Here's the thing though, I knew I was feeling worse than I should. For an entire YEAR of my life, I allowed people around me, including family, friends, nurses, and doctors (all who I know meant well), to tell me that I felt the way anyone who lived my life should feel. I sort of wanted them to tell me nothing was wrong, because part of me knew something was wrong, and I was secretly afraid of knowing what was ailing me. It doesn't make sense that I didn't seek help sooner now, because I got to a point where I realized that I was missing out on actually living the experiences of my life, because I was just surviving them. What kind of living is that? Didn't God mean more for my life than that? I needed help. I got it.
I went to one visit with my new doctor afraid that he would see me as a wimp, because I had convinced myself that this is what my other doctors and family/friends must think about me. My biggest fear was him looking at my stats, and saying, "Mrs. Dean, you just have a lot going on, so of course you're tired." I think I would have broken down right there. Instead, he looked at my chart, and then asked me very specific questions. I held my breath when he started to take a guess at my problem, and, to my surprise, he said, "Mrs. Dean, on paper, you look perfect, but if you are feeling badly, something's wrong. Sometimes people who seem healthy are pushed aside if no disease is found, but I'm not going to give up on finding the issue." I teared up a little, because it seems I rarely make it through a doctor's visit without crying anyway (which I've mentioned before). I was so relieved that he was going to use his different tests and methods to find the issue. A nurse took four vials of blood that day and gave me an appointment for the next week as well as a list of some vitamins to begin that very day.
*Here's my request ladies: IF YOU FEEL THAT SOMETHING IS WRONG, PURSUE IT! No one knows your body like you do. I could've saved myself a lot of exhaustion if I had gone to this doctor the first time my mother recommended him to me. *
At my follow up appointment, I was even more nervous than at the first. What if all of the tests came back normal? What then? Would he think I was a hypochondriac? Would he believe that I was really feeling sick? Was I just going crazy? Would I be expected to just deal with the issues? He pulled out the results. The first result was good. I felt relief and disappointment at the same time. What he was checking were simple vitamin and hormone levels. If something had to be wrong, those were easy things to fix, right? I began to feel the tears building. It didn't take long, however, for him to reveal to me that I was severely deficient in two major vitamins and I also had some hormone deficiencies. Simple fix with natural vitamins, we hope.
I've been taking the vitamins for a month now, and while I don't feel like I'm 15 years younger, I do feel better. My mother and husband both say that there is a noticeable difference. Why didn't I do something sooner? Well, I'm the mom. I don't have time to be sick or feel badly. I have things to take care of here. Don't you say the same things yourself? Please ladies, take care of yourselves. God tells us to do so, so why do we feel that we should be the health martyrs of our families?
Here's my prayer for us:
"Dear Lord, we thank You for these bodies You have given us. We may not always feel they are perfect, but God they do so much for our families. Help us to remember that our bodies are a temple, and how we treat them directly reflects how we care for our gifts from You. We praise You for strength to push through physical ailments, but we praise You for Your healing hand. We promise here and now to strive to take care of the temple You have chosen especially for us. We love, praise, and adore You above all. Amen."
Friday, September 13, 2013
Submissive Wife--Part 3
Here's part three of the Submissive wife series!! I thought about naming the post something else, since it seems that at least a few people are stumbling upon my blog in search of something else and feel it necessary to "enlighten" me on the error of my beliefs. However, in a world constantly screaming at us to be "open minded", I think it's time for others to be open minded of my lifestyle. The last two key elements of my decision to be submissive are:
Being submissive does not mean you do not help with the decision making.
I'm going to be honest. If being a submissive wife meant I had no control over anything that happened in my life or the lives of my children, it would be a much harder lifestyle to accomplish. As I have said before, being a submissive wife doesn't mean you are someone's personal doormat or slave. Dean has always been the kind of man who is very thoughtful about making decisions. Even before we were married, he would seek my opinions and advice about big decisions. Therefore, when we got married, we were used to confiding in the other about insecurities with certain decisions. It wasn't perfectly seamless; I was used to being on the go constantly and spending money however I chose before we were married. In turn, he didn't always consult me on decisions with his farm business. These were hard lessons learned to a newlywed couple. I had to be more conscious of his feelings if I had my whole weekend booked up with activities that didn't invole him. Honestly, going from a college student who only needed spending money to an adult with bills to pay caused the money spending issue to solve itself rather quickly. I still try to take his feelings into account when making big purchases, and he does the same for me. In turn, Dean has continually integrated me into the farm business. I know I may not seem like the farming business type, but it's very interesting, challenging, and takes such dedication, that I can't help but love being on the "team" when it comes to our family farm. I feel myself to be a very important aspect of Dean's decision making process, and he feels the same about being an important part of mine. I felt like we had finally made it to this point when I realized that each time I made a decision (even a little one), I thought about the effect it would have on him.
If you find yourself in a relationship where your husband does not take your feelings into account when making decisions or he does not involve you in the decision making process, hang in there. One way to encourage this progress is to simply talk to him about the issue. Ensure him that you want to be a part of the process even though you support him no matter what, and if he makes a decision that hurts your feelings, tell him in a LOVING way. Also, as with anything in life, be the example. Go to him and ask him how he feels about the decisions you make, even those dealing with your job. Express to him that you are concerned with his feelings with every decision you make from which movie you rent to buying unnecessary make up. These examples may be extreme, but if you want him to think of you each time he makes a decision, you must think of him when you make your decisions. You'd be surprised at how touched someone can be when they realize you bought their favorite cereal without them even asking.
Being a submissive wife will make your husband a stronger, more confident man.
I think the most important job of a wife is to build her husband up. Women and men are astronomically different, but one thing we both crave is to be encouraged, complimented, and supported no matter what. My husband is a very confident man on many levels; however, sometimes the pressure of running a family business, and even a family, can make him second guess himself. We all understand that on some level. No one wants to fail. Everyone wants to be wonderfully successful in life, and being in charge of the success of others can be burdensome. I have learned as a wife to always express my support and how proud I am of my husband. I always thought he knew how proud I am of him, but during our marriage, I have learned that I have to constantly reinforce the way I feel about being on "his side". I'm his biggest fan, and I make sure I tell him often. If he makes a difficult decision, and I know he is worried about it, I make sure I tell him that I am behind him no matter what, even if his idea fails. It is important to him, and when he has to make those hard decisions, it makes him stronger in what he chooses when he feels that I am behind him. There are times when he must face others who question the decisions and express concern. He doesn't back down when he knows I support him. He is stronger because of the fact. I love that his love for me is so strong that he trusts me as his top support. He may be the president of this life we live, but rather than the first lady, he makes sure I feel like the second in command. When a man feels that he has the world on his shoulders, it helps to know there is someone there to help him balance it.
Here's my prayer for the last post in the submissive wife series of my blog:
"Dear Father, we adore You. Thank You God for being bigger and stronger than we ever could hope to be. We pray Your blessings on our precious husbands. We ask that You give us the strength and wisdom to protect our family units by being the wives You have called us to be. We give You all the praise for every lesson learned and every success achieved. You, Lord, are our first love, and we thank You for giving us a relationship that strengthens our understanding of love. Thank You, God, for these ladies who encourage me. Bless them, please."
Being submissive does not mean you do not help with the decision making.
I'm going to be honest. If being a submissive wife meant I had no control over anything that happened in my life or the lives of my children, it would be a much harder lifestyle to accomplish. As I have said before, being a submissive wife doesn't mean you are someone's personal doormat or slave. Dean has always been the kind of man who is very thoughtful about making decisions. Even before we were married, he would seek my opinions and advice about big decisions. Therefore, when we got married, we were used to confiding in the other about insecurities with certain decisions. It wasn't perfectly seamless; I was used to being on the go constantly and spending money however I chose before we were married. In turn, he didn't always consult me on decisions with his farm business. These were hard lessons learned to a newlywed couple. I had to be more conscious of his feelings if I had my whole weekend booked up with activities that didn't invole him. Honestly, going from a college student who only needed spending money to an adult with bills to pay caused the money spending issue to solve itself rather quickly. I still try to take his feelings into account when making big purchases, and he does the same for me. In turn, Dean has continually integrated me into the farm business. I know I may not seem like the farming business type, but it's very interesting, challenging, and takes such dedication, that I can't help but love being on the "team" when it comes to our family farm. I feel myself to be a very important aspect of Dean's decision making process, and he feels the same about being an important part of mine. I felt like we had finally made it to this point when I realized that each time I made a decision (even a little one), I thought about the effect it would have on him.
If you find yourself in a relationship where your husband does not take your feelings into account when making decisions or he does not involve you in the decision making process, hang in there. One way to encourage this progress is to simply talk to him about the issue. Ensure him that you want to be a part of the process even though you support him no matter what, and if he makes a decision that hurts your feelings, tell him in a LOVING way. Also, as with anything in life, be the example. Go to him and ask him how he feels about the decisions you make, even those dealing with your job. Express to him that you are concerned with his feelings with every decision you make from which movie you rent to buying unnecessary make up. These examples may be extreme, but if you want him to think of you each time he makes a decision, you must think of him when you make your decisions. You'd be surprised at how touched someone can be when they realize you bought their favorite cereal without them even asking.
Being a submissive wife will make your husband a stronger, more confident man.
I think the most important job of a wife is to build her husband up. Women and men are astronomically different, but one thing we both crave is to be encouraged, complimented, and supported no matter what. My husband is a very confident man on many levels; however, sometimes the pressure of running a family business, and even a family, can make him second guess himself. We all understand that on some level. No one wants to fail. Everyone wants to be wonderfully successful in life, and being in charge of the success of others can be burdensome. I have learned as a wife to always express my support and how proud I am of my husband. I always thought he knew how proud I am of him, but during our marriage, I have learned that I have to constantly reinforce the way I feel about being on "his side". I'm his biggest fan, and I make sure I tell him often. If he makes a difficult decision, and I know he is worried about it, I make sure I tell him that I am behind him no matter what, even if his idea fails. It is important to him, and when he has to make those hard decisions, it makes him stronger in what he chooses when he feels that I am behind him. There are times when he must face others who question the decisions and express concern. He doesn't back down when he knows I support him. He is stronger because of the fact. I love that his love for me is so strong that he trusts me as his top support. He may be the president of this life we live, but rather than the first lady, he makes sure I feel like the second in command. When a man feels that he has the world on his shoulders, it helps to know there is someone there to help him balance it.
Here's my prayer for the last post in the submissive wife series of my blog:
"Dear Father, we adore You. Thank You God for being bigger and stronger than we ever could hope to be. We pray Your blessings on our precious husbands. We ask that You give us the strength and wisdom to protect our family units by being the wives You have called us to be. We give You all the praise for every lesson learned and every success achieved. You, Lord, are our first love, and we thank You for giving us a relationship that strengthens our understanding of love. Thank You, God, for these ladies who encourage me. Bless them, please."
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Submissive Wife--Part 2
Okay ladies, I know it wasn't supposed to take so long to get the part 2
post out, but I have been trying to evaluate myself as a wife and be
the submissive wife I feel I should be before I go trying to encourage
anyone else to do the same. However, I feel like now is the time to
look into some of the things that hold us back from being the submissive
wives we should be and some of the things that can make submission easier....
1. Being a submissive wife is easier to a Godly husband.
I know this sounds obvious, but look at the statement closely. Many Christian women who are looking for a husband say that they want a “Godly man;” however, what they mean is they want a man who is a proclaimed Christian. A godly man is one who isn’t just saved but he is also a man who seeks God in every aspect of his life. He is a man who understands the family unit and the parallel it holds to the relationship between Christ and the church. He knows that taking a wife means he is responsible for her safety, well-being, and the spiritual state of the entire family. Why then, do so many Christian women settle for a man who is not godly? I think the biggest reason is due to our natural instinct to connect ourselves to a mate. I’ve seen so many young ladies get to the point in life when they just want to be settled, so they begin to panic over finding a mate. They end up settling alright, but sometimes it’s for someone who is less than she deserves. I know there are some thinking, “Geez, Rae, it’s not that easy to find a man who is compatible to me, lives where I want him to, does what I think is the right kind of occupation, AND is Godly…” I’m being facetious, but think hard about what our criteria for the “perfect man” tends to be. When did being Godly become less than the first priority for choosing a spouse? When did we stop teaching our daughters that the most attractive trait a person can have is to love Jesus? Shame on us! We want our children to choose someone who “is a hard worker”, “makes you happy”, and who “makes you feel loved.” I’m not saying those are bad traits, but if a person is Godly and truly seeks to live a life pleasing to God, don’t you think those other traits will fall into place? I’m lucky. While Dean was not as focused on his walk with Christ when we met as he is now, I always knew that God was important in his life in a very real way. He could say the same about me. Therefore, if you are in the situation that you and/or your significant other aren't in the right place spiritually, get moving (closer to God, that is).
Now we must deal with the issue of what to do if you are already in a marriage with an ungodly man. If possible, submit. Proverbs 31:10 says, “A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.” Even a man outside of the will of God can appreciate a wife with “noble character”. Now, I know there are circumstances in which a Godly woman has to choose to either submit to God or her ungodly husband. I sincerely hope none of you are in that situation, but if so, I think you already know the right choice to make. I’m no marriage counselor, so please don’t try to read into this for an excuse to stay in or get out of a relationship with an unsaved person. That, my friend, is between you and God. Feel free to email me though, and I will offer all the support I can give.
2. Being submissive doesn't make you weak, but shows that you are strong.
So many women today hate the mention of submission because they feel it is a term that signifies weakness. I completely disagree. Of all of the married women I know, those who are/ were submissive in their relationships with their husbands are by far the strongest women. My mother, who is the strongest woman I know in my adult life, has worked hard to be a submissive wife. I asked her after my first post how easy it was for her to become a submissive wife. She and my father were not living for Christ when they got married, and I suppose I thought she would say that when they recommitted to Christ, it was easy. She didn’t. My mom, who is rebellious by nature (though she didn’t say that herself), said, “it’s still not easy 34 years in.” That was NOT the answer I wanted. I started thinking then about why she is such a great example of wifely submission in my life if it isn’t something that comes naturally to her. Then it hit me; she is a great example of submission because of the fact that it isn’t easy and she does it anyway. My mother has followed my dad all over the southern states, and honestly, she didn’t always want to do so. Why did she? My father told her that he felt God moving them to a particular job/place, so she went. Wow, right? I can’t imagine leaving behind my entire family like she did and just moving 600 miles to a place where we knew no one and had no connections. That, ladies, takes strength. Did she complain? Yes. Did she cry? Absolutely. Did she mourn for the things and people she had to leave behind? Of course! However, she followed her husband, because she knew that is what God wanted of her, submission.
3. Being submissive is a healthy example for your children.
I truly believe that one problem with the family unit today is that children to often see their parents in a struggle for control. They don’t know who the leader of the family is, so they see marriage as a battle of wills. This gives them an unhealthy vision of marriage. Rather than two people who uplift and support one another, they see two people trying to win a game of tug of war. It teaches them to either not want to be married, or it makes them think that in order to be married, you have to constantly fight for control. My five year old daughter is old enough to understand the idea of someone being the “boss”. When she asked one day about who the boss is at our house, I sat her down and explained it. I told her that I was the boss of them, daddy was the boss of all of us, and God was the boss of everyone. She loved the idea of daddy being my “boss”, and while that term may hold negative connotations to some, I felt it was a good time to let her see that I don’t mind letting daddy make decisions because I know he will do what is best for all of us. I also let her know that if someone is a “boss” over someone else, it is actually a hard job. Being a boss is a big responsibility. When daddy makes a decision, he has to be sure it is what God wants so that the outcome is a good one. Now, I want to also add that if I make a decision at home when Dean isn’t there, he is always sure to back me up. If I tell Princess that she can’t have ice cream because she didn’t eat dinner, he stands behind me. If I tell her that she must go to bed earlier because she was naughty, he supports the decision. It didn’t take her long to understand that trying to work us against one another would not end with her getting her way. Do I make decisions in our household? Every day. Dean works longer hours than I do, so I have to make decisions constantly. I DO NOT make any decisions that are life-changing, finance changing, or will have big, long term effects on any of us without asking him first. He, in return, does the same for me out of respect. Neither of us would ever want to do something like buy a piece of land without consulting the other first. I wouldn’t want to make my husband feel undermined in his place as our caretaker, and my husband doesn’t want to make me believe that my feelings are unimportant to him. Therefore, we have always made those decisions together, and often, we consult someone outside who we trust to give us good advice before making those big decisions. By working this way, we hope to show our children that being a submissive wife doesn’t make me unimportant, and being the head of the family doesn’t mean daddy doesn’t need or want mommy’s help and advice.
I have a part 3 post that will cover the other two sections of my reasons for being a submissive wife. I would love for you all to share your own feelings and experiences of wifely submission. Here's my prayer for us who are on this journey together towards Godly submission:
"Dear Father, help us to be consciously submissive in our marriages. Please touch our husbands and bless them as the head of his home. Let us be wonderful examples of Christians and wives to our children. Please lead us towards Your will for us always. Most of all, Lord, help us stay committed to being submissive wives even when it isn't easy. We praise You, love You, and worship You only. Amen"
1. Being a submissive wife is easier to a Godly husband.
I know this sounds obvious, but look at the statement closely. Many Christian women who are looking for a husband say that they want a “Godly man;” however, what they mean is they want a man who is a proclaimed Christian. A godly man is one who isn’t just saved but he is also a man who seeks God in every aspect of his life. He is a man who understands the family unit and the parallel it holds to the relationship between Christ and the church. He knows that taking a wife means he is responsible for her safety, well-being, and the spiritual state of the entire family. Why then, do so many Christian women settle for a man who is not godly? I think the biggest reason is due to our natural instinct to connect ourselves to a mate. I’ve seen so many young ladies get to the point in life when they just want to be settled, so they begin to panic over finding a mate. They end up settling alright, but sometimes it’s for someone who is less than she deserves. I know there are some thinking, “Geez, Rae, it’s not that easy to find a man who is compatible to me, lives where I want him to, does what I think is the right kind of occupation, AND is Godly…” I’m being facetious, but think hard about what our criteria for the “perfect man” tends to be. When did being Godly become less than the first priority for choosing a spouse? When did we stop teaching our daughters that the most attractive trait a person can have is to love Jesus? Shame on us! We want our children to choose someone who “is a hard worker”, “makes you happy”, and who “makes you feel loved.” I’m not saying those are bad traits, but if a person is Godly and truly seeks to live a life pleasing to God, don’t you think those other traits will fall into place? I’m lucky. While Dean was not as focused on his walk with Christ when we met as he is now, I always knew that God was important in his life in a very real way. He could say the same about me. Therefore, if you are in the situation that you and/or your significant other aren't in the right place spiritually, get moving (closer to God, that is).
Now we must deal with the issue of what to do if you are already in a marriage with an ungodly man. If possible, submit. Proverbs 31:10 says, “A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.” Even a man outside of the will of God can appreciate a wife with “noble character”. Now, I know there are circumstances in which a Godly woman has to choose to either submit to God or her ungodly husband. I sincerely hope none of you are in that situation, but if so, I think you already know the right choice to make. I’m no marriage counselor, so please don’t try to read into this for an excuse to stay in or get out of a relationship with an unsaved person. That, my friend, is between you and God. Feel free to email me though, and I will offer all the support I can give.
2. Being submissive doesn't make you weak, but shows that you are strong.
So many women today hate the mention of submission because they feel it is a term that signifies weakness. I completely disagree. Of all of the married women I know, those who are/ were submissive in their relationships with their husbands are by far the strongest women. My mother, who is the strongest woman I know in my adult life, has worked hard to be a submissive wife. I asked her after my first post how easy it was for her to become a submissive wife. She and my father were not living for Christ when they got married, and I suppose I thought she would say that when they recommitted to Christ, it was easy. She didn’t. My mom, who is rebellious by nature (though she didn’t say that herself), said, “it’s still not easy 34 years in.” That was NOT the answer I wanted. I started thinking then about why she is such a great example of wifely submission in my life if it isn’t something that comes naturally to her. Then it hit me; she is a great example of submission because of the fact that it isn’t easy and she does it anyway. My mother has followed my dad all over the southern states, and honestly, she didn’t always want to do so. Why did she? My father told her that he felt God moving them to a particular job/place, so she went. Wow, right? I can’t imagine leaving behind my entire family like she did and just moving 600 miles to a place where we knew no one and had no connections. That, ladies, takes strength. Did she complain? Yes. Did she cry? Absolutely. Did she mourn for the things and people she had to leave behind? Of course! However, she followed her husband, because she knew that is what God wanted of her, submission.
3. Being submissive is a healthy example for your children.
I truly believe that one problem with the family unit today is that children to often see their parents in a struggle for control. They don’t know who the leader of the family is, so they see marriage as a battle of wills. This gives them an unhealthy vision of marriage. Rather than two people who uplift and support one another, they see two people trying to win a game of tug of war. It teaches them to either not want to be married, or it makes them think that in order to be married, you have to constantly fight for control. My five year old daughter is old enough to understand the idea of someone being the “boss”. When she asked one day about who the boss is at our house, I sat her down and explained it. I told her that I was the boss of them, daddy was the boss of all of us, and God was the boss of everyone. She loved the idea of daddy being my “boss”, and while that term may hold negative connotations to some, I felt it was a good time to let her see that I don’t mind letting daddy make decisions because I know he will do what is best for all of us. I also let her know that if someone is a “boss” over someone else, it is actually a hard job. Being a boss is a big responsibility. When daddy makes a decision, he has to be sure it is what God wants so that the outcome is a good one. Now, I want to also add that if I make a decision at home when Dean isn’t there, he is always sure to back me up. If I tell Princess that she can’t have ice cream because she didn’t eat dinner, he stands behind me. If I tell her that she must go to bed earlier because she was naughty, he supports the decision. It didn’t take her long to understand that trying to work us against one another would not end with her getting her way. Do I make decisions in our household? Every day. Dean works longer hours than I do, so I have to make decisions constantly. I DO NOT make any decisions that are life-changing, finance changing, or will have big, long term effects on any of us without asking him first. He, in return, does the same for me out of respect. Neither of us would ever want to do something like buy a piece of land without consulting the other first. I wouldn’t want to make my husband feel undermined in his place as our caretaker, and my husband doesn’t want to make me believe that my feelings are unimportant to him. Therefore, we have always made those decisions together, and often, we consult someone outside who we trust to give us good advice before making those big decisions. By working this way, we hope to show our children that being a submissive wife doesn’t make me unimportant, and being the head of the family doesn’t mean daddy doesn’t need or want mommy’s help and advice.
I have a part 3 post that will cover the other two sections of my reasons for being a submissive wife. I would love for you all to share your own feelings and experiences of wifely submission. Here's my prayer for us who are on this journey together towards Godly submission:
"Dear Father, help us to be consciously submissive in our marriages. Please touch our husbands and bless them as the head of his home. Let us be wonderful examples of Christians and wives to our children. Please lead us towards Your will for us always. Most of all, Lord, help us stay committed to being submissive wives even when it isn't easy. We praise You, love You, and worship You only. Amen"
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Why I am a submissive wife.
It seems that submission is a dirty word to us today. It is an even dirtier concept for marriage in our society. However, I am a rebel to society in this case. I feel that my willingness and ability to be a submissive wife is a key to maintaining a Godly marriage. Please know that I am not here to upset anyone, and I don't want to debate. However, I do feel that we hear a great deal from women who do not believe in submission to their husbands and very little from the other side. So, here I am, unqualified as I may be. Keep an open mind.
I think the world hears the phrase "submissive wife" and pictures a June Cleaver type lady but one who is brow beaten, talked down to, and mistreated by her husband; or maybe one who lacks confidence, courage, or intelligence; or possibly a weak woman who simply can't stand up for herself. I don't buy into this stereotype. Do these ladies exist? Yes, and I pray for them, their husbands, and their children. However, I don't believe they are the portrait of submission that the Bible paints. In return, we often think of men who believe in wifely submission and think of egotistical bigots who want a woman they can walk all over. Do these men exist? Yes, and I pray for them, their wives, and their children. The Bible tells us that a wife should submit to her husband, and that is enough reason for it to be a goal of mine.
Dean and I didn't really discuss this particular idea before getting married. I don't know why, but for some reason it didn't seem necessary. I grew up in a family where the husband was a natural, strong leader, and where the wife was a natural supporter. This idea was instilled in me, but I can see where it could be a struggle for a woman who did not experience how well the pairing could work. I think there are a few things we need to keep in mind when deciding to be submissive wives:
1. Being a submissive wife is easier to a Godly husband.
2. Being submissive doesn't make you weak, but shows that you are strong.
3. Being submissive is a healthy example for your children.
4. Being submissive does not mean you do not help with the decision making.
5. Being a submissive wife will make your husband a stronger, more confident man.
I can't possibly talk about all of these points in this one post, so I will have several posts about this topic. I promise that I will post as quickly as I can about these ideas as I seek out wisdom and scripture to express myself. I know that I am a lucky woman. I rarely "feel" that I am submitting to my husband. Dean is a wonderful man to be aware of his leadership in our family while making sure our children see that Mommy is a very important part of our success(es) as a group. As we start on this journey together, those of you willing to follow along, I want us all to get in the Bible about the idea. The two most obvious scriptures that come to my mind are:
Ephesians 5:22 which says, "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord."
and
Colossians 3:10 which says, "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as it is fit in the Lord."
I want this to be our diving board. Don't just look at these verses, but go to your Bible or online and read the whole chapters. See what is going on, get a feel for the setting, and then digest it with prayer. These scriptures offer up large orders. Submitting my being to God isn't even that easy, and He is perfect. Now I am asked to put myself completely in the hands of a mere mortal to the same extent as I do with my Savior? AND He sees that as glorious to Him? Wow. Here we go ladies. Let's start off this Saga with prayer for ourselves AND our husbands/future husbands.
"Heavenly Father, give me wisdom. I feel so unworthy of even dealing with this issue, but I know it is what you want me to do. Help me to gain the knowledge I need on this journey. Help my sisters who choose to live this way. Give them courage, strength, and your blessings. Help our precious husbands as well. Make them men who are worthy leaders, Godly leaders, and sensitive leaders. Help our sisters who believe that submission is a negative trait. We praise You, God."
Please know that I understand some readers will get upset about this series of posts. I also understand that these posts could lose some readers/followers for the blog. I know without a doubt there are people who will scoff, laugh, and shake their heads. It's okay. I am a pretty secure woman. I welcome comments from anyone, but I will not let this turn into an angry or hateful debate of any kind, so I will only allow respectful comments to be made public. I am writing this feeling like part of a minority trying to give voice to women who choose to be submissive in their marriages. I believe that there are more of us out there than most people would like to believe. I am fighting a cultural agenda that began before my time, while I refuse to buy into society's lies that tell me I am ignorant if I let a man have any kind of power over me. There is freedom in submission to God; therefore, there is freedom in marital submission.
Wish me luck. Better yet, pray for me.
I think the world hears the phrase "submissive wife" and pictures a June Cleaver type lady but one who is brow beaten, talked down to, and mistreated by her husband; or maybe one who lacks confidence, courage, or intelligence; or possibly a weak woman who simply can't stand up for herself. I don't buy into this stereotype. Do these ladies exist? Yes, and I pray for them, their husbands, and their children. However, I don't believe they are the portrait of submission that the Bible paints. In return, we often think of men who believe in wifely submission and think of egotistical bigots who want a woman they can walk all over. Do these men exist? Yes, and I pray for them, their wives, and their children. The Bible tells us that a wife should submit to her husband, and that is enough reason for it to be a goal of mine.
Dean and I didn't really discuss this particular idea before getting married. I don't know why, but for some reason it didn't seem necessary. I grew up in a family where the husband was a natural, strong leader, and where the wife was a natural supporter. This idea was instilled in me, but I can see where it could be a struggle for a woman who did not experience how well the pairing could work. I think there are a few things we need to keep in mind when deciding to be submissive wives:
1. Being a submissive wife is easier to a Godly husband.
2. Being submissive doesn't make you weak, but shows that you are strong.
3. Being submissive is a healthy example for your children.
4. Being submissive does not mean you do not help with the decision making.
5. Being a submissive wife will make your husband a stronger, more confident man.
I can't possibly talk about all of these points in this one post, so I will have several posts about this topic. I promise that I will post as quickly as I can about these ideas as I seek out wisdom and scripture to express myself. I know that I am a lucky woman. I rarely "feel" that I am submitting to my husband. Dean is a wonderful man to be aware of his leadership in our family while making sure our children see that Mommy is a very important part of our success(es) as a group. As we start on this journey together, those of you willing to follow along, I want us all to get in the Bible about the idea. The two most obvious scriptures that come to my mind are:
Ephesians 5:22 which says, "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord."
and
Colossians 3:10 which says, "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as it is fit in the Lord."
I want this to be our diving board. Don't just look at these verses, but go to your Bible or online and read the whole chapters. See what is going on, get a feel for the setting, and then digest it with prayer. These scriptures offer up large orders. Submitting my being to God isn't even that easy, and He is perfect. Now I am asked to put myself completely in the hands of a mere mortal to the same extent as I do with my Savior? AND He sees that as glorious to Him? Wow. Here we go ladies. Let's start off this Saga with prayer for ourselves AND our husbands/future husbands.
"Heavenly Father, give me wisdom. I feel so unworthy of even dealing with this issue, but I know it is what you want me to do. Help me to gain the knowledge I need on this journey. Help my sisters who choose to live this way. Give them courage, strength, and your blessings. Help our precious husbands as well. Make them men who are worthy leaders, Godly leaders, and sensitive leaders. Help our sisters who believe that submission is a negative trait. We praise You, God."
Please know that I understand some readers will get upset about this series of posts. I also understand that these posts could lose some readers/followers for the blog. I know without a doubt there are people who will scoff, laugh, and shake their heads. It's okay. I am a pretty secure woman. I welcome comments from anyone, but I will not let this turn into an angry or hateful debate of any kind, so I will only allow respectful comments to be made public. I am writing this feeling like part of a minority trying to give voice to women who choose to be submissive in their marriages. I believe that there are more of us out there than most people would like to believe. I am fighting a cultural agenda that began before my time, while I refuse to buy into society's lies that tell me I am ignorant if I let a man have any kind of power over me. There is freedom in submission to God; therefore, there is freedom in marital submission.
Wish me luck. Better yet, pray for me.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Kitchen Dances
Dean and I live pretty high stress lives at times. In reality, I don't know many people who don't. I talk a lot with Dean and my friends about how to destress. Dean likes to farm, AThack likes to run, Sissy cleans, my dad gets out in nature/plays golf/goes hunting/etc (his long list makes me think he either feels tons of stress or none at all, I can't decide), and I like to go to my local park and walk the trail. These are all things we do just to escape the stress that gets us down from time to time. Life is stressful, period. I hate going to the doctor and being asked if I feel stressed, especially since this happens mostly after having a child it seems. I've taken to the response, "Yes doctor, I do feel stressed. Most of the adults I know are stressed. As a matter of fact, I bet a job like yours leaves you tired and stressed as well. How are you feeling mentally today?" I'm not trying to be snotty to them since I know they mean well, I'm just saying that our culture, or maybe just life, tends to lead us into stress. Even Jesus felt stress at times. Remember Him turning over the tables in the temple, weeping over Lazarus when he saw Mary and Martha crying, or being so burdened that he shed tears of blood before His crucifiction? Crazy as it sounds, I think stress has it's place in life; it helps us to look forward to the perfect peace of heaven. I also think it is a logical part of marriage, and what I think our culture lacks is couples who know how to destress together.
My dad has been in the ministry my whole life, and while it's a blessed calling, it is also one that tends to carry a great deal of stress. My parents, like any adults, had to deal with individual stress in their lives. However, they took destressing one step further and dealt with stress as a couple. This is how they taught me what a good marriage can be. For as long as I can remember, my parents have dated. Now, don't get me wrong, they have been happily married since 1978, but they will tell you that a major key to the success of their marital bliss is that they never stopped dating. The idea is so ingrained in me that I have a hard time believing that there are those couples out there who ever stop dating once they get married. Marriage is wonderful, AND it is hard. Parenting is an amazing blessing, AND it is hard. Being an adult is rewarding, AND it is hard. We, as married people, need time away from all of the difficulties of life to just be together with our spouse and remember who we are as a couple. I love my children desperately, I love being with them, I love taking them places, but if I don't get away with my husband by myself at times, then we are no longer a joined force in the family unit, but two individual members of that unit. I believe that there is comfort in a united front from Mommy and Daddy to everyone in the family. Proof of this is the pain and struggle of the family unit when there is disunity in the marriage. I also believe this is one reason why in marriage, God tells us that we become one. It's not "me" working alone on the family unit; it is "we" working on the family unit. I'm never working against Dean, I'm always working along side him. It makes things a lot less lonely and weary when you have someone at your shoulder to lean on when you get tired.
All that being said, I know it's hard to get away to date sometimes. It was easy when it was just Princess. People fought over babysitting her. Now that we have three, it a much bigger commitment to keep our kids for a date night. In addition, the fact that we both work full-time keeps our sitters pretty busy, and there are times when we would desperately love to go somewhere, anywhere together and just talk, but there's just no way to make it happen. We've adapted though, and something we've always done as a simple gesture has become an important moment away in our minds, we dance in the kitchen. Dean is a wonderful man to be willing to help me clean the house after working (most days two different jobs) all day. We get the little ones to sleep and double team the mess in our house. We also turn on some music. It's not usually romantic music, just songs we like. Dean is a huge fan of 90s music, so we sometimes find ourselves dancing to Nirvana, Bush, Foo Fighters, or even whatever is on a station of the sort. We also pull out our old wedding song "Broken Road" by Rascal Flats and dance to that. We just hug up and slow dance around the kitchen, or living room, or whatever room we happen to be cleaning at the time. It seems like the kitchen is the room that we usually end up dancing in, so that is what I think of when I imagine us dancing. It's a moment in his arms when I can block out whatever stress is going on in life and just remember who we are as a couple. It's a small thing, but aren't the small things in life the ones that stand out in our minds? If I'm frustrated, feeling that I'm carrying a heavier load than I can handle, feeling tired from motherhood, or even just feeling angry at Dean over whatever married people get angry about, just a small dance around the kitchen helps. If there isn't any music easily available, we just dance anyway. We destress for a moment, and then we suit back up, and go back for more of what life has to offer.
Maybe this post is a strange one for you, but I have a feeling that someone out there needed to see this, and if you are a wife or one day may be, then here's my prayer for you:
"Dear God, thank You so much for creating the marriage relationship. Thank You for sending me a wonderful man to love and honor in this life. Thank You for working in him and drawing him to You. Help me to be the wife I should be, and help me to love my husband as I should. Please help my sisters in Christ out there as they deal with the stress of life. Help them to draw closer to their husbands and to You. Lord, please give them moments of peace in marriage, and God, if any of my sisters are in a relationship with a husband who doesn't know you, help them be the light leading to You, God. Touch our husband's lives; bless them, Lord. Show them your favor. We praise You, we praise You, we praise You. Amen."
I'm including this picture, which is actually way more glamorous than our usual dances. We were dressed up to chaperone a prom here, and I had a photographer (aka my mom) at hand. I knew I wanted to deal with this in a post soon, so I asked her to snap a picture of us dancing. Usually, I'm in sweats, a t-shirt, and my bare feet so I'm standing on my toes. Sometimes, there are little ones at our knees dancing along or crying to be picked up. It doesn't normally look this glamorous, but it always feels just as special.
My dad has been in the ministry my whole life, and while it's a blessed calling, it is also one that tends to carry a great deal of stress. My parents, like any adults, had to deal with individual stress in their lives. However, they took destressing one step further and dealt with stress as a couple. This is how they taught me what a good marriage can be. For as long as I can remember, my parents have dated. Now, don't get me wrong, they have been happily married since 1978, but they will tell you that a major key to the success of their marital bliss is that they never stopped dating. The idea is so ingrained in me that I have a hard time believing that there are those couples out there who ever stop dating once they get married. Marriage is wonderful, AND it is hard. Parenting is an amazing blessing, AND it is hard. Being an adult is rewarding, AND it is hard. We, as married people, need time away from all of the difficulties of life to just be together with our spouse and remember who we are as a couple. I love my children desperately, I love being with them, I love taking them places, but if I don't get away with my husband by myself at times, then we are no longer a joined force in the family unit, but two individual members of that unit. I believe that there is comfort in a united front from Mommy and Daddy to everyone in the family. Proof of this is the pain and struggle of the family unit when there is disunity in the marriage. I also believe this is one reason why in marriage, God tells us that we become one. It's not "me" working alone on the family unit; it is "we" working on the family unit. I'm never working against Dean, I'm always working along side him. It makes things a lot less lonely and weary when you have someone at your shoulder to lean on when you get tired.
All that being said, I know it's hard to get away to date sometimes. It was easy when it was just Princess. People fought over babysitting her. Now that we have three, it a much bigger commitment to keep our kids for a date night. In addition, the fact that we both work full-time keeps our sitters pretty busy, and there are times when we would desperately love to go somewhere, anywhere together and just talk, but there's just no way to make it happen. We've adapted though, and something we've always done as a simple gesture has become an important moment away in our minds, we dance in the kitchen. Dean is a wonderful man to be willing to help me clean the house after working (most days two different jobs) all day. We get the little ones to sleep and double team the mess in our house. We also turn on some music. It's not usually romantic music, just songs we like. Dean is a huge fan of 90s music, so we sometimes find ourselves dancing to Nirvana, Bush, Foo Fighters, or even whatever is on a station of the sort. We also pull out our old wedding song "Broken Road" by Rascal Flats and dance to that. We just hug up and slow dance around the kitchen, or living room, or whatever room we happen to be cleaning at the time. It seems like the kitchen is the room that we usually end up dancing in, so that is what I think of when I imagine us dancing. It's a moment in his arms when I can block out whatever stress is going on in life and just remember who we are as a couple. It's a small thing, but aren't the small things in life the ones that stand out in our minds? If I'm frustrated, feeling that I'm carrying a heavier load than I can handle, feeling tired from motherhood, or even just feeling angry at Dean over whatever married people get angry about, just a small dance around the kitchen helps. If there isn't any music easily available, we just dance anyway. We destress for a moment, and then we suit back up, and go back for more of what life has to offer.
Maybe this post is a strange one for you, but I have a feeling that someone out there needed to see this, and if you are a wife or one day may be, then here's my prayer for you:
"Dear God, thank You so much for creating the marriage relationship. Thank You for sending me a wonderful man to love and honor in this life. Thank You for working in him and drawing him to You. Help me to be the wife I should be, and help me to love my husband as I should. Please help my sisters in Christ out there as they deal with the stress of life. Help them to draw closer to their husbands and to You. Lord, please give them moments of peace in marriage, and God, if any of my sisters are in a relationship with a husband who doesn't know you, help them be the light leading to You, God. Touch our husband's lives; bless them, Lord. Show them your favor. We praise You, we praise You, we praise You. Amen."
I'm including this picture, which is actually way more glamorous than our usual dances. We were dressed up to chaperone a prom here, and I had a photographer (aka my mom) at hand. I knew I wanted to deal with this in a post soon, so I asked her to snap a picture of us dancing. Usually, I'm in sweats, a t-shirt, and my bare feet so I'm standing on my toes. Sometimes, there are little ones at our knees dancing along or crying to be picked up. It doesn't normally look this glamorous, but it always feels just as special.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Be the Peace
I had the strangest nightmare the other morning, and I've been quietly turning it over in my mind ever since in an attempt to find the spiritual lesson in it. I'm going to tell you about it, but I'm not going to name a few key people, because I don't want to freak anyone out... You'll see what I mean.
All at once, I'm standing in the middle of a playground with two small children who are very dear to me. I'm just letting everything come into focus in my mind when I realize that my dream has no sound. What's even more odd is that it's a deafening silence, as if someone has hit the mute button, but I can still hear the little buzz of sound trying to come through. It's an amazingly bright day, and everything seems to have a glare from the sun. In an instance, I know for a fact that, even though I can't hear it, someone has fired a gun into the crowd, and I turn without thinking and catch one of my little dears as they fall. I calmly tell the other child to duck down next to me, and I know the little one does so. I don't know how I know all of these things, I just do. Here's the crazy thing: I am not afraid. Normally in such a dream, my heart would be pounding out of my chest. It's not. I absolutely know that my little dear one will be okay, I know that there will be no more gunshots, I know the shooter will get caught. There is absolute chaos around me. I realize that the park is in the middle of a wooded area, and everyone is running into the woods. I wonder to myself why they are so panicked. I notice that my instincts kicked in because I have my hand over the wound on the little one's side to stop any blood loss. I know that no organs were hit by the bullet. The child isn't panicked, but just lays calmly, allowing me to apply pressure. Both of my little dear ones are calm; we know that help is coming. We know that if he just stay where we are, if we keep our position, everything will be okay.
As suddenly as the dream began, I awoke. I waited for the fear to creep over me. It is an extremely bothersome dream, I know. However, I never become afraid. (It may not seem that bad to you as you read it, but think of a small child you love dearly being present with you during such a dream. It's horrific to the point that I almost didn't write this post.) This lack of fear is very unlike me. I have always hated nightmares. They plagued me as a child so badly that my sweet mother would write down scriptures and put them in my room, and when we prayed together, I would pray that I would not dream at all. I hated any dream, because I associated dreaming with fear. I laid in my bed after I awoke from that dream, waiting for the fear, almost hoping for it since I knew I should be bothered by such a dream. I walked back through the whole thing in my mind so that I could tell Dean about it. (He had already gone out to work on the farm, and I was afraid I would forget it before I saw him at lunch.) All I felt was the same peace that dominated my dream. I was left feeling calm and wondering: what does that dream mean?
I immediately felt like the dream must have meant something. It had to serve a spiritual purpose. It has been over a week, and this is what I have gathered. (Maybe I'm looking too closely at this dream, but I couldn't let such a crazy dream go without trying to learn something from it.) This is a crazy world filled with danger, anger, hate, and chaos. However, as a child of God, I have the opportunity to be the peace for those around me. I can be the calm eye in the hurricane of life for my family. When I think of the Godly women I know, they have one thing in common. They are the anchor of their family. They are, in essence, home to their husbands and children. They are the ones who everyone tells their problems to, the one giving constant, unconditional encouragement, and they emit peace to the family unit. In the midst of troubled times, even though my mom herself might have been stressed to the max, she brought comfort and peace to the rest of us. I think that is what God was trying to show me. Just like in the dream, I can keep a peaceful heart because I know things will be okay, even when danger is present. I can rest peacefully, even when I'm in the middle of surviving this life because I know from where my help comes. I can have peace, even when the unseen enemy attacks because I know that God will be my vengeance. I can keep a calm heart, even in the middle of life's nightmares becasue His peace rests within me. I just have to praise God every time I think about that awful dream.
I still don't really understand how such a terrible dream could give me so much peace in my heart, but isn't that the amazing thing about our God? He can take the most horrible of things and use them for good. Somebody better be shouting about that out there!! I know this particular post is a bizarre one, so I'll try to post again this week. I just wanted to share this lesson with you while it was fresh in my mind. I wanted to show how peace can be present at unexpected moments in our hearts. I pray for peace constantly, and I'm so amazed that I found it in the middle of one of the worst nightmares I have ever had. I don't know how many of you are seeking peace in your lives right now, but I want to share a scripture with you that my mommy wrote on a post it and put on my mirror as a teenager. It helped me with it's literal meaning, but I hung on to it, and it has helped me during times when my sleep was robbed, not by nightmares, but by other things such as stress, anxiety, depression, anger, or even nerves. Maybe it will help you too. I usually end with a prayer, but at my darkest times, I would just read this scripture as my prayer when I couldn't form words of my own. If you ever find yourself there, maybe you can do the same.
All at once, I'm standing in the middle of a playground with two small children who are very dear to me. I'm just letting everything come into focus in my mind when I realize that my dream has no sound. What's even more odd is that it's a deafening silence, as if someone has hit the mute button, but I can still hear the little buzz of sound trying to come through. It's an amazingly bright day, and everything seems to have a glare from the sun. In an instance, I know for a fact that, even though I can't hear it, someone has fired a gun into the crowd, and I turn without thinking and catch one of my little dears as they fall. I calmly tell the other child to duck down next to me, and I know the little one does so. I don't know how I know all of these things, I just do. Here's the crazy thing: I am not afraid. Normally in such a dream, my heart would be pounding out of my chest. It's not. I absolutely know that my little dear one will be okay, I know that there will be no more gunshots, I know the shooter will get caught. There is absolute chaos around me. I realize that the park is in the middle of a wooded area, and everyone is running into the woods. I wonder to myself why they are so panicked. I notice that my instincts kicked in because I have my hand over the wound on the little one's side to stop any blood loss. I know that no organs were hit by the bullet. The child isn't panicked, but just lays calmly, allowing me to apply pressure. Both of my little dear ones are calm; we know that help is coming. We know that if he just stay where we are, if we keep our position, everything will be okay.
As suddenly as the dream began, I awoke. I waited for the fear to creep over me. It is an extremely bothersome dream, I know. However, I never become afraid. (It may not seem that bad to you as you read it, but think of a small child you love dearly being present with you during such a dream. It's horrific to the point that I almost didn't write this post.) This lack of fear is very unlike me. I have always hated nightmares. They plagued me as a child so badly that my sweet mother would write down scriptures and put them in my room, and when we prayed together, I would pray that I would not dream at all. I hated any dream, because I associated dreaming with fear. I laid in my bed after I awoke from that dream, waiting for the fear, almost hoping for it since I knew I should be bothered by such a dream. I walked back through the whole thing in my mind so that I could tell Dean about it. (He had already gone out to work on the farm, and I was afraid I would forget it before I saw him at lunch.) All I felt was the same peace that dominated my dream. I was left feeling calm and wondering: what does that dream mean?
I immediately felt like the dream must have meant something. It had to serve a spiritual purpose. It has been over a week, and this is what I have gathered. (Maybe I'm looking too closely at this dream, but I couldn't let such a crazy dream go without trying to learn something from it.) This is a crazy world filled with danger, anger, hate, and chaos. However, as a child of God, I have the opportunity to be the peace for those around me. I can be the calm eye in the hurricane of life for my family. When I think of the Godly women I know, they have one thing in common. They are the anchor of their family. They are, in essence, home to their husbands and children. They are the ones who everyone tells their problems to, the one giving constant, unconditional encouragement, and they emit peace to the family unit. In the midst of troubled times, even though my mom herself might have been stressed to the max, she brought comfort and peace to the rest of us. I think that is what God was trying to show me. Just like in the dream, I can keep a peaceful heart because I know things will be okay, even when danger is present. I can rest peacefully, even when I'm in the middle of surviving this life because I know from where my help comes. I can have peace, even when the unseen enemy attacks because I know that God will be my vengeance. I can keep a calm heart, even in the middle of life's nightmares becasue His peace rests within me. I just have to praise God every time I think about that awful dream.
I still don't really understand how such a terrible dream could give me so much peace in my heart, but isn't that the amazing thing about our God? He can take the most horrible of things and use them for good. Somebody better be shouting about that out there!! I know this particular post is a bizarre one, so I'll try to post again this week. I just wanted to share this lesson with you while it was fresh in my mind. I wanted to show how peace can be present at unexpected moments in our hearts. I pray for peace constantly, and I'm so amazed that I found it in the middle of one of the worst nightmares I have ever had. I don't know how many of you are seeking peace in your lives right now, but I want to share a scripture with you that my mommy wrote on a post it and put on my mirror as a teenager. It helped me with it's literal meaning, but I hung on to it, and it has helped me during times when my sleep was robbed, not by nightmares, but by other things such as stress, anxiety, depression, anger, or even nerves. Maybe it will help you too. I usually end with a prayer, but at my darkest times, I would just read this scripture as my prayer when I couldn't form words of my own. If you ever find yourself there, maybe you can do the same.
"I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety."( Psalms 4:8)
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
The Rash of Resentment
I've decided that nothing rubs you raw quite like resentment. One of my sweet little angels, Bubby, gets diaper rashes very easily. To complicate matters, he's allergic to most diaper ointments (you know, only the ones that actually work). We try our best to prevent diaper rash, as most parents do I suppose, but no matter what we do, he sometimes eats or drinks something that comes out in a toxic way and leaves a rash behind. I tell you all of this, not so that he'll have a reason to hate me when he's older, but as a comparison in my life. I don't know if everyone in the world struggles with resentment or if it's just me, but I try my best to just avoid situations or feelings that I know will lead to resentment in my life, because, well, it just rubs me raw. It leaves me irritated, frustrated, and all around grumpy; I end up much like Bubby when he gets held down for me to rub that poor excuse for an ointment on his little tail...I'm ready to fight for all I'm worth, even if I know I shouldn't. However, try as I may, there are times when resentment creeps up on me, and I'm learning to read the signs.
Spring time should be a happy time, but it's one of the hardest times for me in struggling with resentment. All around me, I see people exercising, dieting, tanning, and doing other self-help type things to prepare for....well, I don't know what they are preparing for, but I want in on it. I want to get tan for vacation (which doesn't make much sense really). I want to lose 15 pounds before that vacation (so I can eat like a pig and gain it back while on said vacay). I want to exercise (kinda). I know I sound whiny. (I literally laughed at myself as I typed the last sentence, because a spiritual blogger would have followed the statement up with a "but" phrase that justified the statement, but I've got nothing.) I just want to be able to work on myself sometimes, but I find myself in this wonderfully blessed life that just doesn't allow for these little privileges anymore. Every single Spring since having my first child, I have cycled through 1. low-self esteem, 2. anger, and then 3. resentment. Dean tries to help me with this issue, but Spring is a pretty big time for him too. Spring is when his second full time job of farming really kicks back in, and making time for me to go hike the trail at the park just doesn't seem all that important to either of us many days. That doesn't mean I always make the sacrifice with a joyful heart though. Then, to make things even better, people say, "Oh, just get you a little exercise video to do at home." Don't worry fellow mothers, no other female with three small children has been foolish enough to suggest this. It's not that it's a bad idea, it's just an impossible one. The only way I would be able to successfully complete an exercise video with my three kids present is if I locked them out of the room, and I'm pretty sure they'd destroy the room that they were gated into just to get back at me (not even taking into account that my five year old can climb any gate we own). To be honest, I've had to let them completely destroy the living room just to type this blog, and I've had to stop eight different times to scold or rescue my little (ahem) angels. Then, there's the commentary from my brutally honest five year old from the time I tried exercising with her when the duo was napping..."You don't look like that lady"... "You're belly jiggles"..We won't go further. Anyway, back on track with resentment. My ultimate question is, "How do I control this resentment"?
I've been working on just that. I can't pay another sitter to come in so that I can workout an hour a day. (Well, I technically could, but I don't feel right doing it right now.) I can't change my lack of time for myself. I can't make my daily routine include more "me time". However, I can try to control my resentment. Now don't roll your eyes, because I hate those, "You can't control the situation, but you can control how you react to the situation" sayings just as much as you, but I honestly have to either succumb to the resentment or move past it. I looked up some scriptures about resentment, and here's some of what I found:
“The godless in heart harbor resentment"(Job 36:13 )
"Resentment kills a fool"(Job 5:2)
"And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful."(2 Timothy 2:24)
Well, you didn't expect it to be complimentary did you? Ouch, though. It did kind of hurt. I knew resentment was bad for me, but to be called godless, a fool, and quarrelsome. YIKES!! That is what we English folk refer to as a Shrew in Literature, and my husband might not always disagree as far as it describing me. So here's the thing ladies: Being a mom is hard (so is being an adult..or a human for that matter!). I don't have the awesome body and nice tan that I had but didn't appreciate when I was young. I don't have time to put together a diet that I can go on but despise now that I'm so busy raising kids. It's not all about me. BUT THAT'S OKAY! Now, I just have to get over that fact, and be happy with the time I do have for myself, the body I'm left with after it has done its child bearing duties. I have to enjoy every bite of sinful chocolate I sneak from my kids' Easter baskets (finally, an easy one!). I also have to fight off the devil's attempts at making me resentful. Careful ladies, he's smart. He'll stand right by you and whisper in your ear that your husband just doesn't appreciate all you do. He'll make you look longingly at how tiny that lady is in the Wal-mart line (who, by the way, has never had twins). He will show you on TV what a woman is "supposed to be". Don't buy in to the resentment. It's a lie. It'll make you a quarrelsome, godless fool. I don't know exactly what that looks like, but I can guarantee, it's not a happy picture. Let's end with a prayer for the resentful among us:
"Dear Father, life is hard. It's not fair. As women, we sometimes get resentful of our jobs, our places in this society, and frankly, Lord, we get resentful of each other. And wrongly so. FORGIVE US WE BEG! May we always remember who our King is. In those weak moments when resenment comes creeping in, help us to cling to your promises God. Help us remember how precious we are to You. Help us remember how precious our dear little families are that we work so hard to protect. God our love for You and them is so great, but so overwhelming that our weak human selves just can't handle it sometimes. Help us to step back, breathe, and put it all in prospective. We praise You, God, for all that You have given us. Thank You for the unfairness, Thank You for difficulties, Thank You for peace that passes understanding. Thank You for hope in a hopeless world. We love You, we love You, we love You. Amen."
Spring time should be a happy time, but it's one of the hardest times for me in struggling with resentment. All around me, I see people exercising, dieting, tanning, and doing other self-help type things to prepare for....well, I don't know what they are preparing for, but I want in on it. I want to get tan for vacation (which doesn't make much sense really). I want to lose 15 pounds before that vacation (so I can eat like a pig and gain it back while on said vacay). I want to exercise (kinda). I know I sound whiny. (I literally laughed at myself as I typed the last sentence, because a spiritual blogger would have followed the statement up with a "but" phrase that justified the statement, but I've got nothing.) I just want to be able to work on myself sometimes, but I find myself in this wonderfully blessed life that just doesn't allow for these little privileges anymore. Every single Spring since having my first child, I have cycled through 1. low-self esteem, 2. anger, and then 3. resentment. Dean tries to help me with this issue, but Spring is a pretty big time for him too. Spring is when his second full time job of farming really kicks back in, and making time for me to go hike the trail at the park just doesn't seem all that important to either of us many days. That doesn't mean I always make the sacrifice with a joyful heart though. Then, to make things even better, people say, "Oh, just get you a little exercise video to do at home." Don't worry fellow mothers, no other female with three small children has been foolish enough to suggest this. It's not that it's a bad idea, it's just an impossible one. The only way I would be able to successfully complete an exercise video with my three kids present is if I locked them out of the room, and I'm pretty sure they'd destroy the room that they were gated into just to get back at me (not even taking into account that my five year old can climb any gate we own). To be honest, I've had to let them completely destroy the living room just to type this blog, and I've had to stop eight different times to scold or rescue my little (ahem) angels. Then, there's the commentary from my brutally honest five year old from the time I tried exercising with her when the duo was napping..."You don't look like that lady"... "You're belly jiggles"..We won't go further. Anyway, back on track with resentment. My ultimate question is, "How do I control this resentment"?
I've been working on just that. I can't pay another sitter to come in so that I can workout an hour a day. (Well, I technically could, but I don't feel right doing it right now.) I can't change my lack of time for myself. I can't make my daily routine include more "me time". However, I can try to control my resentment. Now don't roll your eyes, because I hate those, "You can't control the situation, but you can control how you react to the situation" sayings just as much as you, but I honestly have to either succumb to the resentment or move past it. I looked up some scriptures about resentment, and here's some of what I found:
“The godless in heart harbor resentment"(Job 36:13 )
"Resentment kills a fool"(Job 5:2)
"And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful."(2 Timothy 2:24)
Well, you didn't expect it to be complimentary did you? Ouch, though. It did kind of hurt. I knew resentment was bad for me, but to be called godless, a fool, and quarrelsome. YIKES!! That is what we English folk refer to as a Shrew in Literature, and my husband might not always disagree as far as it describing me. So here's the thing ladies: Being a mom is hard (so is being an adult..or a human for that matter!). I don't have the awesome body and nice tan that I had but didn't appreciate when I was young. I don't have time to put together a diet that I can go on but despise now that I'm so busy raising kids. It's not all about me. BUT THAT'S OKAY! Now, I just have to get over that fact, and be happy with the time I do have for myself, the body I'm left with after it has done its child bearing duties. I have to enjoy every bite of sinful chocolate I sneak from my kids' Easter baskets (finally, an easy one!). I also have to fight off the devil's attempts at making me resentful. Careful ladies, he's smart. He'll stand right by you and whisper in your ear that your husband just doesn't appreciate all you do. He'll make you look longingly at how tiny that lady is in the Wal-mart line (who, by the way, has never had twins). He will show you on TV what a woman is "supposed to be". Don't buy in to the resentment. It's a lie. It'll make you a quarrelsome, godless fool. I don't know exactly what that looks like, but I can guarantee, it's not a happy picture. Let's end with a prayer for the resentful among us:
"Dear Father, life is hard. It's not fair. As women, we sometimes get resentful of our jobs, our places in this society, and frankly, Lord, we get resentful of each other. And wrongly so. FORGIVE US WE BEG! May we always remember who our King is. In those weak moments when resenment comes creeping in, help us to cling to your promises God. Help us remember how precious we are to You. Help us remember how precious our dear little families are that we work so hard to protect. God our love for You and them is so great, but so overwhelming that our weak human selves just can't handle it sometimes. Help us to step back, breathe, and put it all in prospective. We praise You, God, for all that You have given us. Thank You for the unfairness, Thank You for difficulties, Thank You for peace that passes understanding. Thank You for hope in a hopeless world. We love You, we love You, we love You. Amen."
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Breaking the Silence in my Spiritual Trial
Hello long lost friends. First, I want to apologize for being gone so long without so much as an explanation. My last post promised a journey towards refuge from a weary refugee, and then I basically fell off the face of the social media earth for a while only to pop back up recently. I wish I could say that my journey is complete and that is was quick, painless, and I am right now resting in my spiritual place of refuge. However, I can't.
Side note* Have you ever ulgy cried? You know what I mean. The kind of cry where you lose control of all facial features and it's not just letting a tear roll here and there, but you have snot dripping, your face is contorted, and your coloring has gone haywire. Well, I've done so much of that lately that it's not even funny. Anytime I refer to crying in this post, you can safely assume I am referring to ugly crying, not movie star crying where one tear drop delicately rolls down my face. I'm just not that kind of girl...*
I am still going through one of the toughest trials of my spiritual life. I wasn't exactly sure what was going on with me spiritually for a long time, but I know now. I thought at least knowing what God was doing in me would help. It doesn't. I thought I had been through spiritual trials before in my life, and I have, but on a different scale. You see, as we grow spiritually, so do our trials. It is awesome that God finds us worthy of testing, but don't go glamorizing the process, it hurts. Dictionary.com defines a trial as, "the act of trying, testing, or putting to the proof. A tentative or experimental action in order to ascertain results; experiment." This lets us know that a trial does not last forever and the purpose is to get results. What results will it yield? Well, that depends on us. Trials are often a painful part of our spiritual walk, so the bigger the trial, the more painful the moment in life that trial may produce (not always I suppose). This trial has been a bizarre one for me.
As I said in my previous post, my one strength in my Christian walk is my ability to communicate with God. That's about all I had going for me, so I took great pride in that one strength, and you know what the Bible says about pride, it "comes before the fall". Well, my trial is this. Not only did I quit hearing from God. I started feeling as if he didn't hear me. Now, I know because the Bible tells me so, the God hears my prayers. However, when it feels as if God doesn't hear you for one day, it's easy to tell yourself that He hears you even if it doesn't feel like it. When you feel like God doesn't hear you for a week, it's a little harder. Two months later, you find yourself throwing a hissy fit on God asking Him why He is mad at you, crying like a baby, rolling on the floor like a little kid in the check out at walmart thinking that making a ridiculous display will force the parent's hand. Anyone else been there? I was doing the seek and pray thing until I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown, and to be honest, most of the people closest to me were getting pretty worried too. To make sure He really had my attention, God didn't just stop there with the trial.
Dean and I also started having strange things happen that would make life stressful financially. Car trouble, hot water heater breakdown, closing costs on a loan that were triple what we had been told, more car trouble (talk about a rough month). I wasn't sure we could handle much more bad news. Then my dad told me he had gotten a promotion...and relocated. yay (read with sarcasm). Now they haven't relocated yet, but you all know how much I depend on my mother and the army around me just to survive, so losing her is like cutting off one of my arms. There were other little nuances as well that the devil threw in the way just to trip me up, but it always went back to the fact that I just couldn't see what God was doing. What was He preparing me for? If I could just see a reason, a point, get a word of encouragement from Him, then I could make it through.
I tried to just keep pushing on. I kept up with my responsibilities at home, work, and church. Actually, if something extra needed to be done at church, I picked up on it and took over. There weren't necessarily big things to take, just little things to plan here and there. Still, nothing, silence. I thought for sure He would give in eventually and just talk to me. Finally, I got a chance to talk to JoyMac, one of my friends at work who I always go to for spiritual advice. I was sitting in her room blubbering on and on about how I was praying and seeking my little heart out and getting nowhere, when finally, she said, "Now don't get mad, but why don't you just stop? Maybe you just need to quit talking and listen. Maybe you're looking and looking, and what God wants is for you to let Him lead you." Ouch. I don't know about you, but when my friends start out with the phrase "don't get mad", they are about to say something they know I need to hear, but they know I am not going to want to hear. Thankfully I also have friends who love me enough to say it anyway and who know how to say it in love. She's right. I've spent my whole life preparing myself for God to use me, and now that I don't know what to "do" in preparation to be used, I'm at a loss. That is one thing this trial is all about. It is in part at least to make me stop working towards a goal of readiness.
The trial still isn't over, and I'm not sure why. In the darkest point of this trial, I finally said to God, "I know You're there, I know You love me, and I know You hear my prayers. I know You're faithful to me, and I will be faithful to You, no matter what." It was all I could pray for a while. It was that or nothing, honestly, so I thought that was better than nothing at all. Somedays, I still put that in there. Then, somedays, I would have a small breakthrough during that prayer. Other days, I would be listening to the radio and have a breakthrough in a song. One day I was singing "How Great Thou Art" in my car and had a break through. I didn't hear God speaking, but I felt His comfort, and that was enough. I just needed something, just a little touch to know I hadn't been completely forsaken, just a hand on my shoulder, even for a moment so that I knew I could make it through. I'm not saying I have gone through this trial gracefully. I have spent many a Sunday crying so hard the whole church service people have asked me if I'm okay after church. I have been affected emotionally so much that when my mother asked me what I wanted for Christmas, Princess spoke up and said, "I know! What she wants is to not have a nervous breakdown, Nana." Out of the mouth of babes, huh? My poor husbad has prayed with and for me, and I've apologized so many times for dragging him through this trial with me. Maybe had I been more faithful, I could be on the mountain top looking down on this experience now rather than making my slow climb up still. But it isn't all bad. Even in the trial there were blessings and happiness. I learned new things from myself, I saw new strength in my husband, and I sought new truth in the scriptures.
One of my favorite biblical characters, David, encouraged me through my trial. I've always loved him because even though at one point he was a colossal failure as a person, Christian, and leader, he loved God so unashamedly and he always gave God credit for his redemption. When I just couldn't take it anymore, I would go to the Psalms and just skim through until I found a first verse that suited me, and then I would read the whole chapter. David (though he didn't write all of the Psalms, he wrote most of them, and my Bible tells me which ones) would praise God through everything. Sometimes with a happy heart, sometimes with a broken heart, sometimes for his people, and sometimes for himself. Amazing. Here are some beginings I like. "Have mercy upon me, O God, According to You lovingkindness; According to the multitude of your tender mercies, Blot out my transgressions" (Ps 51:1) "I waited patiently for the Lord; And He inclined to me, And heard my cry." (Ps. 40:1) "I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth" (Ps. 34:1) I read these and tried to mean them even if I didn't. I read them and cried, I read them and laughed, I read them and related, and sometimes I read them and felt nothing. I'm on trial. I don't know when it will be over, but hiding away won't make it end faster. For those of you out there going through a trial yourself, here is my prayer for both of us:
"God, help us as we go through trials. Help us to know that they are not to hurt us, but that they will make us stronger. God, please help us stay faithful to You no matter what we may face in this life. God we love You. I ask that You protect my friends and put up a shield of love around them. I ask that you cover us with Your comfort. We praise You, we praise You, we praise You. Amen."
Side note* Have you ever ulgy cried? You know what I mean. The kind of cry where you lose control of all facial features and it's not just letting a tear roll here and there, but you have snot dripping, your face is contorted, and your coloring has gone haywire. Well, I've done so much of that lately that it's not even funny. Anytime I refer to crying in this post, you can safely assume I am referring to ugly crying, not movie star crying where one tear drop delicately rolls down my face. I'm just not that kind of girl...*
I am still going through one of the toughest trials of my spiritual life. I wasn't exactly sure what was going on with me spiritually for a long time, but I know now. I thought at least knowing what God was doing in me would help. It doesn't. I thought I had been through spiritual trials before in my life, and I have, but on a different scale. You see, as we grow spiritually, so do our trials. It is awesome that God finds us worthy of testing, but don't go glamorizing the process, it hurts. Dictionary.com defines a trial as, "the act of trying, testing, or putting to the proof. A tentative or experimental action in order to ascertain results; experiment." This lets us know that a trial does not last forever and the purpose is to get results. What results will it yield? Well, that depends on us. Trials are often a painful part of our spiritual walk, so the bigger the trial, the more painful the moment in life that trial may produce (not always I suppose). This trial has been a bizarre one for me.
As I said in my previous post, my one strength in my Christian walk is my ability to communicate with God. That's about all I had going for me, so I took great pride in that one strength, and you know what the Bible says about pride, it "comes before the fall". Well, my trial is this. Not only did I quit hearing from God. I started feeling as if he didn't hear me. Now, I know because the Bible tells me so, the God hears my prayers. However, when it feels as if God doesn't hear you for one day, it's easy to tell yourself that He hears you even if it doesn't feel like it. When you feel like God doesn't hear you for a week, it's a little harder. Two months later, you find yourself throwing a hissy fit on God asking Him why He is mad at you, crying like a baby, rolling on the floor like a little kid in the check out at walmart thinking that making a ridiculous display will force the parent's hand. Anyone else been there? I was doing the seek and pray thing until I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown, and to be honest, most of the people closest to me were getting pretty worried too. To make sure He really had my attention, God didn't just stop there with the trial.
Dean and I also started having strange things happen that would make life stressful financially. Car trouble, hot water heater breakdown, closing costs on a loan that were triple what we had been told, more car trouble (talk about a rough month). I wasn't sure we could handle much more bad news. Then my dad told me he had gotten a promotion...and relocated. yay (read with sarcasm). Now they haven't relocated yet, but you all know how much I depend on my mother and the army around me just to survive, so losing her is like cutting off one of my arms. There were other little nuances as well that the devil threw in the way just to trip me up, but it always went back to the fact that I just couldn't see what God was doing. What was He preparing me for? If I could just see a reason, a point, get a word of encouragement from Him, then I could make it through.
I tried to just keep pushing on. I kept up with my responsibilities at home, work, and church. Actually, if something extra needed to be done at church, I picked up on it and took over. There weren't necessarily big things to take, just little things to plan here and there. Still, nothing, silence. I thought for sure He would give in eventually and just talk to me. Finally, I got a chance to talk to JoyMac, one of my friends at work who I always go to for spiritual advice. I was sitting in her room blubbering on and on about how I was praying and seeking my little heart out and getting nowhere, when finally, she said, "Now don't get mad, but why don't you just stop? Maybe you just need to quit talking and listen. Maybe you're looking and looking, and what God wants is for you to let Him lead you." Ouch. I don't know about you, but when my friends start out with the phrase "don't get mad", they are about to say something they know I need to hear, but they know I am not going to want to hear. Thankfully I also have friends who love me enough to say it anyway and who know how to say it in love. She's right. I've spent my whole life preparing myself for God to use me, and now that I don't know what to "do" in preparation to be used, I'm at a loss. That is one thing this trial is all about. It is in part at least to make me stop working towards a goal of readiness.
The trial still isn't over, and I'm not sure why. In the darkest point of this trial, I finally said to God, "I know You're there, I know You love me, and I know You hear my prayers. I know You're faithful to me, and I will be faithful to You, no matter what." It was all I could pray for a while. It was that or nothing, honestly, so I thought that was better than nothing at all. Somedays, I still put that in there. Then, somedays, I would have a small breakthrough during that prayer. Other days, I would be listening to the radio and have a breakthrough in a song. One day I was singing "How Great Thou Art" in my car and had a break through. I didn't hear God speaking, but I felt His comfort, and that was enough. I just needed something, just a little touch to know I hadn't been completely forsaken, just a hand on my shoulder, even for a moment so that I knew I could make it through. I'm not saying I have gone through this trial gracefully. I have spent many a Sunday crying so hard the whole church service people have asked me if I'm okay after church. I have been affected emotionally so much that when my mother asked me what I wanted for Christmas, Princess spoke up and said, "I know! What she wants is to not have a nervous breakdown, Nana." Out of the mouth of babes, huh? My poor husbad has prayed with and for me, and I've apologized so many times for dragging him through this trial with me. Maybe had I been more faithful, I could be on the mountain top looking down on this experience now rather than making my slow climb up still. But it isn't all bad. Even in the trial there were blessings and happiness. I learned new things from myself, I saw new strength in my husband, and I sought new truth in the scriptures.
One of my favorite biblical characters, David, encouraged me through my trial. I've always loved him because even though at one point he was a colossal failure as a person, Christian, and leader, he loved God so unashamedly and he always gave God credit for his redemption. When I just couldn't take it anymore, I would go to the Psalms and just skim through until I found a first verse that suited me, and then I would read the whole chapter. David (though he didn't write all of the Psalms, he wrote most of them, and my Bible tells me which ones) would praise God through everything. Sometimes with a happy heart, sometimes with a broken heart, sometimes for his people, and sometimes for himself. Amazing. Here are some beginings I like. "Have mercy upon me, O God, According to You lovingkindness; According to the multitude of your tender mercies, Blot out my transgressions" (Ps 51:1) "I waited patiently for the Lord; And He inclined to me, And heard my cry." (Ps. 40:1) "I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth" (Ps. 34:1) I read these and tried to mean them even if I didn't. I read them and cried, I read them and laughed, I read them and related, and sometimes I read them and felt nothing. I'm on trial. I don't know when it will be over, but hiding away won't make it end faster. For those of you out there going through a trial yourself, here is my prayer for both of us:
"God, help us as we go through trials. Help us to know that they are not to hurt us, but that they will make us stronger. God, please help us stay faithful to You no matter what we may face in this life. God we love You. I ask that You protect my friends and put up a shield of love around them. I ask that you cover us with Your comfort. We praise You, we praise You, we praise You. Amen."
Sunday, October 14, 2012
From refugee to refuge
Let's first begin by defining some terms together in order to be certain we're all on the same page. According to dictionary.com, refuge is "shelter or protection from danger, trouble, etc.". It defines refugee as, "a person who has fled from some danger or problem, esp political persecution". My idea for this blog is discovering how to go from being a refugee to finding refuge. When I think of the term refugee, I think of one who is running for his/her life in that moment of definition. I think of someone who is in danger, one who is struggling, one who is anxious. Once the person has found refuge, they would probably no longer use that term as their identifier (in my mind). I constantly feel like a refugee in life. I feel like I am running from one thing and toward another, and as hard as I try and pray, I can't seem to break the cycle. I'm tired of feeling as if I have my whole world shoved in a pack and strapped to my back. I'm tired of feeling like a failure when I know I'm not, not yet anyway. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not doing something well, or that I'm not good enough. Mostly, I'm tired of feeling tired. I know I complain about this a lot, but stay with me, I promise there is something relatable for most people in here...
Satan knows how to get to me in life. He starts giving me thoughts that start out simple and true but then turn into something ugly and evil. I constantly have thoughts like: "I'm frustrated at home because I'm tired of staying behind on things that need to be done." It's a true thought. There is nothing at all wrong with feeling frustrated over being behind on laundry, struggling to keep your kitchen clean (relatively at least), or forgetting to pay a bill on time. However, my thought, after a while, becomes: "I'm a failure as a person because I can't even keep up with laundry, my kitchen is disgusting, and I can't even manage finances. I GIVE UP!" Do you see how a simple, true thought has led me to a place of hopelessness? IT'S LAUNDRY!! WHO CARES?!?! We all know the answer to that, me. In your case, you. We do care. We have to care actually, because laundry does eventually have to be done. The danger and evil are in the progression from frustration to hopelessness. Here's another one. I begin with the thought:"I'm frustrated at work, because I can't stay caught up with my work, and I don't feel like I even know my co-workers anymore." In a few weeks the thought becomes, "I hate my job because I am a failure at it, and there's no way I could ever do any better than I am now because I don't have any more of myself to give." The first thought is simple and true. The second thought is not. It is destructive; it is hopeless. I'm tired of taking those thoughts, piled up with more thoughts which are related to things as simple as menuing, grocery shopping, or making dinner, to things as important as, health, weight, and relationships, and having to run as far and fast as I can in what I assume to be the right direction. Where then, is my refuge?
I know that literally God is my refuge, but how do I find my way to His place of comfort? We all know, thanks to Science class, that it takes more energy to begin motion than to keep something in motion. My problem is that I feel the need to literally stay in motion. Have you ever said something like: "I better do it now, because once I sit down, I won't get back up"? I do. That means that I run in from work, immediately begin cooking dinner while trying to play with and hold my kids, feed them as soon as it's ready, hurry and clean the kitchen, work on whatever other thing is absolutely necessary for the day, and then collapse around the time my kids go to bed. What part of the day was enjoyed? None of it. Sad, huh? It's amazing that the days I accomplish the most, are sometimes the most miserable. I take this as proof that my joy is being stolen by my obligations. My God and my family are what is most important to me, but those are the places where my life suffers.
Dean and I are constantly saying that we don't want our kids to get the worst of us. We want to give them the best of who we are, and we want to give each other the best of ourselves as well. It's hard though, because we use ourselves up before we get a chance to really even be together. My relationship with God suffers because my quiet time either doesn't happen or becomes a complaint session on my part. I pray a great deal, without ceasing so to speak, but I'm pretty sure my prayers are starting to sound like directions given from a waitress to a short order cook. "I need an order of peace with a side of patience and kindness! Don't forget to go heavy on the blessings, please! Oh, and you didn't forget about the hope I'll need later!" Forgive me, Lord...Or maybe I sound more like a sick patient in with the doctor, "You see, I need help with this pesky little ache of stress, and then I need you to fix the heartache from missing my kids, and then I need you to take a look at making me happier, and if you could, maybe you could soothe this little frustration over here, and then.........." God help me remember who You are.
I've always spoken very openly to God, I mean He does know everything anyway. As a child, I basically adopted the idea that God is who I am constantly addressing in my every thought. Rather than ping ponging thoughts around with myself, I feel that God is who I am really wanting feedback from, so I constantly talk to Him. It has made me good at prayer. The problem is that I still need to set aside prayer time. Talking to Him all day has, in some ways, hurt the way I talk to Him. I need prayer time where I am still and quiet, waiting for a word. It's great to pray constantly, but I need to remember that I can't always be the one doing all the talking. God knows my heart. He knows that I am sincere in my prayers, and He knows that I acknowledge Him as the creator of the universe. I am the slave, and He is my master. I mean no disrespect in my prayers that come out sounding demanding or whiny, but I still don't want that to be my instinct. I want to go from feeling like a refugee, to resting in my refuge. I just haven't gotten there yet.
I am determined to take action in this situation. I need to change several habits in myself in order to do so. I need to work on my prayer life, enjoying my children and husband, and trying to find balance in necessities. My first goal is to change my prayer habits. Every time I catch myself saying one of those split second "God, please help me" prayers, I will add to it a praise and acknowledgment of His greatness. I will make sure that at some point each day I seek God's will for me. Step one starts this week. I will let you know how it goes, and I sincerely hope that if you are in the same situation I am, you will try this with me. Here's my prayer for week 1 of going from refugee to refuge:
"Lord, You are so awesome. You are why I am alive, and God, You are what I live for. Help me to remember that You are my reason for living as I go through this life. I want my every thought to be pleasing to You God. I was not put here to live a life of stress and anxiety but to bring glory to You, and while I know that this imperfect world is full of those things, I also know that in You, I can find peace. I am so sorry for becoming the mess I am. I beg your forgiveness, and I praise You for Your love and blessings. Please guide me on this journey to Your refuge, God. I seek Your face. Bless my friends who need this journey as well. We await Your guiding touch, and we praise You no matter the outcome. We want to be the women You created us to be, and we will start now. We bless the Creator of the universe. We praise You, we praise You, we praise You. Amen"
Satan knows how to get to me in life. He starts giving me thoughts that start out simple and true but then turn into something ugly and evil. I constantly have thoughts like: "I'm frustrated at home because I'm tired of staying behind on things that need to be done." It's a true thought. There is nothing at all wrong with feeling frustrated over being behind on laundry, struggling to keep your kitchen clean (relatively at least), or forgetting to pay a bill on time. However, my thought, after a while, becomes: "I'm a failure as a person because I can't even keep up with laundry, my kitchen is disgusting, and I can't even manage finances. I GIVE UP!" Do you see how a simple, true thought has led me to a place of hopelessness? IT'S LAUNDRY!! WHO CARES?!?! We all know the answer to that, me. In your case, you. We do care. We have to care actually, because laundry does eventually have to be done. The danger and evil are in the progression from frustration to hopelessness. Here's another one. I begin with the thought:"I'm frustrated at work, because I can't stay caught up with my work, and I don't feel like I even know my co-workers anymore." In a few weeks the thought becomes, "I hate my job because I am a failure at it, and there's no way I could ever do any better than I am now because I don't have any more of myself to give." The first thought is simple and true. The second thought is not. It is destructive; it is hopeless. I'm tired of taking those thoughts, piled up with more thoughts which are related to things as simple as menuing, grocery shopping, or making dinner, to things as important as, health, weight, and relationships, and having to run as far and fast as I can in what I assume to be the right direction. Where then, is my refuge?
I know that literally God is my refuge, but how do I find my way to His place of comfort? We all know, thanks to Science class, that it takes more energy to begin motion than to keep something in motion. My problem is that I feel the need to literally stay in motion. Have you ever said something like: "I better do it now, because once I sit down, I won't get back up"? I do. That means that I run in from work, immediately begin cooking dinner while trying to play with and hold my kids, feed them as soon as it's ready, hurry and clean the kitchen, work on whatever other thing is absolutely necessary for the day, and then collapse around the time my kids go to bed. What part of the day was enjoyed? None of it. Sad, huh? It's amazing that the days I accomplish the most, are sometimes the most miserable. I take this as proof that my joy is being stolen by my obligations. My God and my family are what is most important to me, but those are the places where my life suffers.
Dean and I are constantly saying that we don't want our kids to get the worst of us. We want to give them the best of who we are, and we want to give each other the best of ourselves as well. It's hard though, because we use ourselves up before we get a chance to really even be together. My relationship with God suffers because my quiet time either doesn't happen or becomes a complaint session on my part. I pray a great deal, without ceasing so to speak, but I'm pretty sure my prayers are starting to sound like directions given from a waitress to a short order cook. "I need an order of peace with a side of patience and kindness! Don't forget to go heavy on the blessings, please! Oh, and you didn't forget about the hope I'll need later!" Forgive me, Lord...Or maybe I sound more like a sick patient in with the doctor, "You see, I need help with this pesky little ache of stress, and then I need you to fix the heartache from missing my kids, and then I need you to take a look at making me happier, and if you could, maybe you could soothe this little frustration over here, and then.........." God help me remember who You are.
I've always spoken very openly to God, I mean He does know everything anyway. As a child, I basically adopted the idea that God is who I am constantly addressing in my every thought. Rather than ping ponging thoughts around with myself, I feel that God is who I am really wanting feedback from, so I constantly talk to Him. It has made me good at prayer. The problem is that I still need to set aside prayer time. Talking to Him all day has, in some ways, hurt the way I talk to Him. I need prayer time where I am still and quiet, waiting for a word. It's great to pray constantly, but I need to remember that I can't always be the one doing all the talking. God knows my heart. He knows that I am sincere in my prayers, and He knows that I acknowledge Him as the creator of the universe. I am the slave, and He is my master. I mean no disrespect in my prayers that come out sounding demanding or whiny, but I still don't want that to be my instinct. I want to go from feeling like a refugee, to resting in my refuge. I just haven't gotten there yet.
I am determined to take action in this situation. I need to change several habits in myself in order to do so. I need to work on my prayer life, enjoying my children and husband, and trying to find balance in necessities. My first goal is to change my prayer habits. Every time I catch myself saying one of those split second "God, please help me" prayers, I will add to it a praise and acknowledgment of His greatness. I will make sure that at some point each day I seek God's will for me. Step one starts this week. I will let you know how it goes, and I sincerely hope that if you are in the same situation I am, you will try this with me. Here's my prayer for week 1 of going from refugee to refuge:
"Lord, You are so awesome. You are why I am alive, and God, You are what I live for. Help me to remember that You are my reason for living as I go through this life. I want my every thought to be pleasing to You God. I was not put here to live a life of stress and anxiety but to bring glory to You, and while I know that this imperfect world is full of those things, I also know that in You, I can find peace. I am so sorry for becoming the mess I am. I beg your forgiveness, and I praise You for Your love and blessings. Please guide me on this journey to Your refuge, God. I seek Your face. Bless my friends who need this journey as well. We await Your guiding touch, and we praise You no matter the outcome. We want to be the women You created us to be, and we will start now. We bless the Creator of the universe. We praise You, we praise You, we praise You. Amen"
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Mother of the year....NOT!
So I found myself in this situation a few weeks ago where I was driving down the road after literally running out of my work place (don't worry, I got my class covered), telling myself not to cry, get upset, or even show any sign of stress. I had somehow forgotten to get Princess picked up from school. Luckily, the sweet ladies at preschool were taking good care of her by having her just keep on going into the afternoon program like nothing was wrong. I was devastated. Princess seemed fine, but she asked several times that day why she had to stay late. This is when it is hard to be a working mom when you're shuffling everyone between so many people that something gets forgotten. My mom normally picks Princess up on that day, but she was on vacation and somehow I had forgotten. It's an honest mistake, but what if Princess hadn't been in a school that offers such a wonderful environment? To make things worse, it happened again the next week. Luckily, my father-in-law called to check, which prompted my babysitter to call SIL, who then went and got her. It worked out, but the fact still remains that I forgot to have it taken care of, which bothers me. I feel like I am absolutely doing the best I can with the juggling act I have in life, but there are still some major moments of failure, and I honestly don't know how to do any better than I am doing now. I go through times when I say I'm going to quit my job and stay home so that I don't have to worry about the hectic schedule I have, but then we'd have to give up private preschool, my health insurance, my retirement, and basically all unnecessary things in life...HMMM..nah! I could hire someone fulltime to keep my twins everyday and pay (at the very least) $600 every four weeks....*Cough* Not an option....I have a calendar that I fill out to help, but there are always little added things and changes that I just can't adjust for most weeks. It's a stressful, seemingly hopeless cause which makes me feel like a failure.
AND THEN I REMEMBER as a 9 year old girl getting left at the church by my parents who had driven separate cars, not once, but twice. I remember my dad's secretary having to come to the school 15 minutes after it ended to pick me up once. These aren't important memories, they are just things that happened. The schedule got hectic, an appointment ran late, I got lost in the shuffle. I didn't feel any less loved. I didn't feel distressed by the evidently hectic lifestyle my parents were leading. In fact, until just this moment, I assumed that my life now is more chaotic than my mother's was at my age. How selfish is that? I believe myself to be an exception in my chaos when in reality I am simply an average mother. Is it right? Does this make it okay? Has our society done this at harm to us? I don't know the answer to these questions. One thing I do know is that no matter what the situation, motherhood is hard. It is hectic, stressful, and sometimes frustrating, but man is it worth it!
I love being a mother. I am so proud of my children who are so special as little individuals. I look at them and constantly see all the good in the world. Maybe I do fail sometimes, but they all know at the end of the day that mommy loves them so much. For them, that's enough. So, I'll pick myself up, brush off the dust of guilt, lean on Jesus, and walk on forward in this journey...and all the while, I'll still be learning to love the chaos.
AND THEN I REMEMBER as a 9 year old girl getting left at the church by my parents who had driven separate cars, not once, but twice. I remember my dad's secretary having to come to the school 15 minutes after it ended to pick me up once. These aren't important memories, they are just things that happened. The schedule got hectic, an appointment ran late, I got lost in the shuffle. I didn't feel any less loved. I didn't feel distressed by the evidently hectic lifestyle my parents were leading. In fact, until just this moment, I assumed that my life now is more chaotic than my mother's was at my age. How selfish is that? I believe myself to be an exception in my chaos when in reality I am simply an average mother. Is it right? Does this make it okay? Has our society done this at harm to us? I don't know the answer to these questions. One thing I do know is that no matter what the situation, motherhood is hard. It is hectic, stressful, and sometimes frustrating, but man is it worth it!
I love being a mother. I am so proud of my children who are so special as little individuals. I look at them and constantly see all the good in the world. Maybe I do fail sometimes, but they all know at the end of the day that mommy loves them so much. For them, that's enough. So, I'll pick myself up, brush off the dust of guilt, lean on Jesus, and walk on forward in this journey...and all the while, I'll still be learning to love the chaos.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Mirror, Mirror
I'm sure there is a moment in every mother's life when she looks at her child, or children, and feels as if she is looking directly into a mirror. This has been happening to me a lot lately. I can think of several different occasions within the past two weeks that I looked at each child individually and saw myself. The problem with it is that I didn't see the good version of myself that I have pictured in my head. I saw the uncontrolled, pushy, demanding, temperamental parts. Geez.
We'll start with Bubby, since he's the least like me. He has this tendency to just plow over people to get what he wants. He will literally run over his twin to get to me. If I'm standing at the sink washing dishes and he wants me to pick him up, he forces his little body between my legs and the cabinets and pushes with all his weight against it to get me away from the sink. I don't know where he learned to be so adamant about getting his way. Oh wait...
Then there is Tinker Belle, who is mostly expressionless. She has recently learned a new look. It's the "I'm gonna kill you" (but not literally) look. If you say something she doesn't like or look at her a certain way, she lowers her little eyebrows at you. I can't imagine where she saw such a mean look. Well, maybe...
Lastly, there is Princess, my mini-me in life. She was nagging (ahem) me about wanting something for two straight hours before I lost my cool and ranted about how she had to stop nagging me, during which my voice cracked and I almost cried, which made her begin to cry because she can't handle it when I cry, and she yelled back at me in the same tone, with the same desperate expression that she just couldn't help it. It was some twilight zone type stuff...THEN she developed an unexplainable fear of our bathrooms. She doesn't want to be in there by herself, and it's not exactly easy to drop everything and take her all the time. This fear started randomly because of a decorative crab made of brass that was my grandmothers. I can't imagine why anyone would have such a bizarre fear..(*nervous chuckle*) Wonder where that came from? Perhaps it could be...
I know that I have some good traits as a person. I truly care about people, I'm tender-hearted, and I am loving. Why is it then that I feel like the only traits I have given my children are bad ones? My parents told me once before the twins were born that Princess was strong willed and that while she needs to learn control, that is a trait that will help make her successful in life. I'm not sure it's very endearing in preschool, but I know they are right. I also know that the trait came from me. Dean is definitely strong-willed, but she got the agressiveness from her mother. I sit here asking myself, "Why don't they mimic the good things?" "Do I not do anything that is positive in front of them?" "Do I subconsciously only see the bad traits I pass along to them?" "Should I start saving up for bail in the future?" (just kidding)
This is one of those times that I'm just going to have to try to improve the personality traits I project and pray really hard. Here's the best I can do in my current state:
"Dear God, you know I'm crazy. You also know that I don't want to make my children that way by showing them only uncontrolled behavior traits. Help me, God, to realize that I have three little people depending on me to stay close to You so they can learn how to act. Make me better, Lord, as a person, mother, wife, teacher, and woman. I will praise You forever. Amen."
We'll start with Bubby, since he's the least like me. He has this tendency to just plow over people to get what he wants. He will literally run over his twin to get to me. If I'm standing at the sink washing dishes and he wants me to pick him up, he forces his little body between my legs and the cabinets and pushes with all his weight against it to get me away from the sink. I don't know where he learned to be so adamant about getting his way. Oh wait...
Then there is Tinker Belle, who is mostly expressionless. She has recently learned a new look. It's the "I'm gonna kill you" (but not literally) look. If you say something she doesn't like or look at her a certain way, she lowers her little eyebrows at you. I can't imagine where she saw such a mean look. Well, maybe...
Lastly, there is Princess, my mini-me in life. She was nagging (ahem) me about wanting something for two straight hours before I lost my cool and ranted about how she had to stop nagging me, during which my voice cracked and I almost cried, which made her begin to cry because she can't handle it when I cry, and she yelled back at me in the same tone, with the same desperate expression that she just couldn't help it. It was some twilight zone type stuff...THEN she developed an unexplainable fear of our bathrooms. She doesn't want to be in there by herself, and it's not exactly easy to drop everything and take her all the time. This fear started randomly because of a decorative crab made of brass that was my grandmothers. I can't imagine why anyone would have such a bizarre fear..(*nervous chuckle*) Wonder where that came from? Perhaps it could be...
I know that I have some good traits as a person. I truly care about people, I'm tender-hearted, and I am loving. Why is it then that I feel like the only traits I have given my children are bad ones? My parents told me once before the twins were born that Princess was strong willed and that while she needs to learn control, that is a trait that will help make her successful in life. I'm not sure it's very endearing in preschool, but I know they are right. I also know that the trait came from me. Dean is definitely strong-willed, but she got the agressiveness from her mother. I sit here asking myself, "Why don't they mimic the good things?" "Do I not do anything that is positive in front of them?" "Do I subconsciously only see the bad traits I pass along to them?" "Should I start saving up for bail in the future?" (just kidding)
This is one of those times that I'm just going to have to try to improve the personality traits I project and pray really hard. Here's the best I can do in my current state:
"Dear God, you know I'm crazy. You also know that I don't want to make my children that way by showing them only uncontrolled behavior traits. Help me, God, to realize that I have three little people depending on me to stay close to You so they can learn how to act. Make me better, Lord, as a person, mother, wife, teacher, and woman. I will praise You forever. Amen."
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