Grace - noun: undeserved mercy or blessing; favor or goodwill; elegance or beauty of form, manner, motion, or action.
My life has been greatly influenced by Grace; both the grace I receive from God, my husband, children, family and friends. Through struggle, pain, hurts and heartache I have found peace, joy, and hope. My words tell my story, my heart and my purpose.
All season long she had told anyone, and everyone, very clearly, in great detail, and a small little voice that all she wanted for Christmas was the "Princess Klip Klop Stable." She was three years old, and was discovering the magic, the excitement, and the spirit of Christmas. That Christmas season my daughter, Grace, was becoming aware that there were many components to 'Christmas.' We spent time talking about all the traditions that have been held for generations, and some new ones that her dad and I started just for her. A visit with Santa, shopping, card making, and decorating the house and Christmas tree filled our days. We bustled to the homes of friends and family to decorate cookies and gingerbread houses, share meals, and exchange gifts. Advent, nativity scenes, Christmas Eve service, scriptures, and carols. Our days were busy and long, but joyous and full of memory making. In fact, I don't think even now, four years later, I ever fully realized the gift my daughter gave me that year. My all time, most favorite, single greatest Christmas memory came that year. Watch the video below to see what it is!
Christmas 2013
If you're unable to see the video, I'll tell you what I love about it. Gracie woke up Christmas morning and had realized that maybe, possibly, if everything we told her was true, that Santa would've come and left her gifts; maybe even the 'Princess Klip Klop Stable.' She sneaks around the couch and to her delight she finds exactly what she asked for! As she runs to the toy, she stops, stares at it, and becomes quiet. Then I hear a whimper, and another, and a sniffle. She's crying. She is so overcome with happiness, gratefulness, and what appears to be disbelief. It was the perfect moment. So as each year has passed I find myself watching that video. It makes me pause and smile, and laugh at her little voice. But this year was different, my reaction was different, I was different. This year that memory revealed to me a small glimpse of how our Heavenly Father might have felt when He sent down His Son, the greatest gift He had to offer. Our world knew they needed a savior, they had been promised a messiah, and while they expected God to do something; I don't think they were prepared for all that He did with a little baby. To be fair though; even after hearing the story of Jesus and the promise he shared with the world, as the Bible says it pretty clearly "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life." (John 3:16 NIV) It took me some time and growing up to understand what God was offering. He was, and still is, offering a piece of himself. Offering all the things we need, and the deepest desires of our heart; all while accepting our flaws and mistakes, and loving us every step of the way. I needed to experience God, (and in my case experience Him over, and over, and over) to trust that the gift was actually right in front of me, when I didn't deserve it, I didn't earn it, and I couldn't afford it; but there it was. I imagine I felt like Gracie did on that Christmas morning, excited, overwhelmed, unexpected, and unworthy, but mostly marveling at the wonder of having the thing you desire most. What took me four years to learn though, is how the parent giving the gift must feel. That Christmas morning I watched the person I loved more than I could comprehend, experience one of the greatest joys she had ever known. I was responsible for her, and while often it was a challenge to navigate her needs and best interests; there was no greater joy for me than to see her learn, love, and thrive. The scriptures tell us how God identifies with and experiences the same responsibility, hopes, and unconditional love for us. Christmas started with a baby, born in a manger; no extravagance, no fanfare. Those that knew the baby born that night though, knew it was the greatest gift of all, no matter that they too were unworthy, unprepared, and overcome with how that gift would change the world.
"And this is the testimony: God has given us eternal life, and this life is in his Son."
I grew up here. I began staying over immediately and progressively from the age of three to six I moved in full time as my Mom and Dad were unable to care for me and my little sister. We painted my room
six times, and rearranged the furniture 167 times. My grandpa helped me to ride a bike, shushed my sleepovers,
made Minnie Mouse pancakes, played catch in the front yard, and taught me how to pick and complete my
March Madness bracket from the Sunday paper. My grandma spent hours
washing, brushing, braiding or rolling my hair in rollers, used her
heart and hands to teach me how to cook family meals handed down generations and new adventurous recipes clipped from the newspaper. They teased me for locking myself out, constantly, and they took my door off the hinges for slamming it one too many times. They tucked me in as a little girl in my big bed, cheered every time I came barreling through the kitchen with some piece of great news or accomplishment, and they held me on the edge of their bed when my heart was broken. But mostly we did homework, watched Jeopardy, and sang under the stars in the hot tub. I think by now that it's clear the memories made in the last twenty nine years are imprinted in my character, my being, my heart, and the depths of my soul. And these are just my memories. I have siblings. And a large family, and an even bigger extended family, and to add to that all our friends that became family. So much life was lived in one home, so much love grew and was poured on all who were there.
Granddaughters Brittney (2) and Cassey (5) Summer 1990
But it wasn't the house that made the memories. It was the family. It was my parents. They made it our home. I don't think my heart could contain any additional gratitude, pride, or love for what they have done there the last 29 years. But it is time to let go. It is time to move on. Just over a year ago, my grandma Judi was diagnosed with moderate/severe dementia and early Alzheimer's disease. First the good, she is in the early stages, she is responding well to new medications to aide focus and reduce anxiety. She may not be able to solve calculus or give great driving directions, but thankfully she still knows that I don't like mayonnaise on my sandwiches or that my sister is just months away from completing her masters degree to be an elementary teacher. She still knows and can recall the important stuff, for that we are all extremely grateful. Her health and her mind are a gift, one that we don't want to take for granted. Someday the Alzheimer's may come full force, but we cannot live our life in fear of that day. We can only celebrate every day that we still have her present.
Granddaughter Brittney's College Graduation 2017
My parents have been aging, and that is no picnic to go through or watch. So just as I am always asking myself if there is anything I can do to help my children to be healthier, I have to ask myself the same for my parents. Evaluating the things that they need to be healthy I found myself comparing medicare plans, supplement plans, diets, prescription coverage etc. just trying to find the right concoction to reduce stress, increase relaxation, and allow them to enjoy this phase in their life. But it wasn't in a medical solution that we found the answer. It was baseball. And sunshine. And no stress. And the concept of being financially free. And a slower pace. It was a new home, in a new state. After my parents went on a two week vacation in Arizona for Dodger spring training it was clear that they came home healthier, happier, and closer than I had seen in awhile. It was refreshing and exciting.
Catching a spring training game, go Dodgers!
Visiting the Grand Canyon.
Their current house was already on the market, it is too big, with a plot of land that requires upkeep. They equity was tied up, and they house was over 60 years and aging right along with them. They were already looking to downsize, but none of us expected that journey to take them out of state. They have family here, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, siblings, nieces, nephews, and a lifetimes worth of friends. They have a life here, a good life.
They also have a good life awaiting in Arizona. They have a brand new house with all the upgrades, all the amenities, and none of the financial stress. Dry heat is one of the best medicines for arthritis and joint pain. Vitamin D and sunshine is proven to reduce depression and encourage activity. A clean slate is there for them to expand their community, to share their love with others, to create a new home.
This is going to be hard for all of us. We can talk about all the future trips planned, the new memories to make. However, we are doing ourselves a disservice if we don't acknowledge and grieve a place that was the epicenter of our lives. My background is in finance and lending, so I have been the point person for the sale of this home and the purchase of the new home is Arizona. Staying busy with those details have kept me distracted. Just like packing, sorting, purging, and preparing for an estate sale has kept my parents, my mom, my aunts, and cousins busy. (My grandmother constructed a mini, eclectic, museum of sorts over the last three decades!) So we have all just pushed the reality of this to the back burner. I need to say it though. My heart is broken. I'm nervous for the future. Change is coming rapidly. Distance will make it harder to follow my grandmothers health as closely as I do now. FaceTime will become our best friend. None of that is enough though to negate the positives and the excitement of the adventure that lies before them. So I will choose to grieve for a moment, but to focus on the goodness, the provision of a new home, an answered prayer to relieve their stress.
80% of New Years resolutions will be failed by February according to Business Insider. I don't think anyone who has ever made a New Years resolution will be shocked or surprised by that statistic. Of course different reasons attribute to the failure; commonly unrealistic resolutions to begin with, or not setting goals to breakdown and achieve the resolution. Accountability, procrastination, and life change can also play a role in the failure, as well as a myriad of other reasons. I have fallen into the "failure" category for many resolutions in my lifetime.
So a few years ago I decided to quit making resolutions all together. Instead I questioned and considered why we make New Years resolutions to begin with. During my time spent pondering, mulling over, and of course searching the Internet, I realized it's all because we have a natural desire and need to be improving ourselves. (So did many, many, other people - try googling the questions and you will likely find a plethora of commonalities.) In the end, the article that resonated with me and seemed to answer my need for understanding, and a solution to follow, was a blog/idea/practice called "My One Word." While exploring their concept, this image and statement caught my attention:
Pick one word. Just one word? Nothing crazy, just one word. Don't set expectations on it, except to focus on it for the entire year. That seemed like something I could stick with, or at least attempt.
So I began the tradition of picking a word each year. And the best part is, it doesn't even have to be done on January 1st! The point is that I was being intentional about improving an area of my life, and in my case, I was inviting God to work with me and through me on that area. Last year, 2016, I picked the word 'Relationships.' It seemed like a pretty large, general area of my life and I had no clue where or how I would begin to approach it. But the word came to me, I couldn't think of another word at the time that struck me as much, so I went with it.
Over that year I would focus on relationships that were present in my life, then those that were no longer. Exploring what I valued and cherished in each, identifying and acknowledging what I could be doing better in each, and then doing it. I held close friendships and made more time to just hang out and spend intentional time with my friends. This was easier than I expected, since most of my friends were happy to spend time together with my kids, or for adult time after they went to bed. I reached out to family and improved boundaries and buried the past in some cases, to move forward. My husband and I went to a summer series of marriage counseling. We learned new ways to communicate, to date each other, and even how to fight better. (Trust me, it's a good thing!) I purposefully and sincerely invested in each of my three daughters individually. Some relationships improved a ton, deepened further than I could have imagined. Some reemerged from the past, and some faded away. By the end of the year it had become just a part of my thought process and heart to be continually praying over my relationships and the people in my life.
I "finished" my relationship challenge a few months ago. But unlike a diet or cleanse that lasts a determined amount of time; I am still present and engaged in relationship building. Only now, I feel ready and prepared to take on a new word.
So in December of last year, about six months ago, I felt the word discipline on my heart. I prayed about it; I talked to my husband about it; and I realized that God was calling me to allow Him to work on me and through me using a focus on discipline. Mulling that idea over, I wasn't thrilled. Relationships were fun to work on, ha! Discipline sounded hard, and like it involved sacrifice and doing things I don't want to. But it was my word, so I was going to do it.
Over the last six months I have been testing the waters on what God had in mind that I may need to be more disciplined about. I look forward to sharing with you my experiences; because resurrecting my blog is one of the ways I want to be more disciplined, and because sharing with an audience can promote accountability, support, questions and challenges. So while I start sharing my journey of learning to be more obedient; consider what your resolutions are/were, or maybe pick a word for yourself. And if you really want to join me, leave your word or resolution in the comments.
Five years ago I was six months pregnant with my first child, a daughter. It was my first official Mother's Day. While I was excited for the "new mom" cards, flowers and brunch that initiated me into a new club, I was honestly mostly relieved.
I was relieved because I believed that I finally had a reason to be happy on Mother's Day. My backstory is long, but the point for this post is simple: I didn't have a mother.
Each Mother's Day I would take time to honor and cherish my grandmother. And trust me when I say she was worth all the praise I could give her and then some. But for days leading up to and all during Mother's Day, I felt a void, I felt left out.
For years I let it get to me, even after I had my own children. The "Mom" gifts everywhere, the cards I would never buy, the silly Facebook posts that I would never share. It was just constant reminders that my birth mother chose time and time again to not do the work, put in the time or build a relationship with me. It was a constant reminder that I was not enough for her. I began to quietly hate and resent Mother's Day.
Then in 2014 infinite wisdom came from my 3 1/2 year old daughter, "Mommy, we need LOTS of cards for all our mommies... like Gigi, and Gramma, and Nana, and Auntie, and Auntie Sarah, and Auntie Chelsea, and Mrs. Larimore, and Miss Mary, and ..." The list literally went on for about 5 minutes. And the best part about this list, is several of the women she listed, don't have children, they aren't "mothers." But with all her enthusiasm, her big heart and her ignorance to what society defined as a "mother" she taught me so much.
Mother's Day is about honoring women. It's about honoring the women who make sacrifices, who nurture, who tirelessly provide care, and support. Women who listen to all our dreams, fears, pointless ramblings and often the mundane actions of our day, all without judgment or impatience. Women who challenge us to push past our limits, who cheer us on, who celebrate when we succeed and who hold us when we fail. Women who help us to piece back together broken hearts, and who warn of clouded judgment. Women who simply showed up.
Those are the women that need to be honored on Mother's Day. And for me, I am so grateful that I have a whole team of women who stand beside me. I am also blessed that I have the opportunity to be a "mother" to my children, my nieces and nephews, my students at church, my friends and anyone that I can walk beside and show grace, support and love.
This Mother's Day, I will choose joy. Because truly, being a mother, being a woman, and being a daughter of God is worth honoring and celebrating. So to all women, traditional Mother's and "Mothers," sisters, aunties, cousins, friends and daughters of the one true king, I wish you a Happy Mother's Day. You are worth celebrating.
I wasn't sure how to feel when absolutely none of my family seemed surprised when I told them that for my 30th birthday I want 30 pairs of shoes. My husband rolled his eyes, my parents and in-laws laughed, and my grandmother started telling me what sales I could go to score some great deals. None of them knew exactly what I meant, but I have a feeling they all knew I was serious. To explain more, let me back up a minute. Shoes and I have always had a love affair. I love buying them, wearing them but mostly looking at them. See, I have always had the luxury of being able to not only have the shoes I need, but most of the ones I want. This often made for an empty wallet and a full closet. But if I am being completely honest, this post has nothing to do with my want for shoes and ultimately everything to do with their need for shoes. Their? Who? The hundreds of children in Uganda who will no longer suffer from the pain of jiggers in their feet, but will instead be able to run and play in their new closed toe, protective shoes. I won't get into detail about how jiggers work, the problems they can cause, or the pain that a child goes through to have them removed. But I will say, that having looked at their pictures and read their stories, I have to do something to help. That brings us to my big birthday wish. All of you are invited to help me share my birthday with Sole Hope. Sole Hope is an organization that is built with people who are making a real difference in Uganda. One of their main services is to care for the children's feet. They wash them, remove the jiggers, treat any medical infections and then finally fit them with their own pair of protective shoes. I have spent the better part of the last 30 years looking at shoes, and without a doubt the shoes made by Sole Hope are the most beautiful I have ever seen. They are simple, made of denim, but they are literally changing the trajectory of the life of each child that receives a pair. The shoes protect their feet, but the care, love and support they receive with the shoes is what will help them to live a richer life. One of the ways that I want to support Sole Hope is to host a "Shoe Cutting Party." It will be a time of fellowship, cutting old denim jeans to be transformed into shoes, and cupcakes. (It is a birthday party after all!) My hope is that we can cut enough denim to make 30 pairs of shoes. The details for the party are at the bottom of the page! If you've read this far, thank you. This cause, this organization and the faces of these children have grabbed my heart. I encourage you to consider joining us for the party, checking out the stories, pictures and information provided by Sole Hope, or sharing this invite with someone else. More info: Sole Hope www.solehope.org Facebook event Party Details. Saturday, April 11th from 2:00 pm to 5:00 pm First Baptist Church of Beaverton 5755 SW Erickson Ave Beaverton, Oregon 97008 There are many ways for you to help! Ultimately we will need a total of 30 pairs of old denim, that will then be cut into patterns. Each pair of "shoes" that we complete will also need a $10 donation. This is used to cover the shipping to Uganda as well as pay a fair wage to the local shoe maker and tailor that are used there. Ways to be involved: *Make a whole pair yourself (donate denim, cut pattern and include $10) *Simply donate denim *Come and just cut out patterns with us *Sponsor a pair of shoes for $10
Please do not hesitate to contact me with any questions or for more information. I am really excited about this opportunity and look forward to a fun afternoon!
Lately I have found myself to be a broken record..."marriage isn't easy...marriage takes work...relationships change...it takes both people..." I have been talking to friends that are struggling in their relationships, I have been talking to newlyweds that are navigating their first (of many) marital challenges and I have been talking to my own husband.
It's no surprise to anyone to hear those things. It is pretty common knowledge; most of us even expect challenges. In fact, the bible promises that if you get married you are going to have troubles. (1 Corinthians 7:28) Even though we know these things, it doesn't soften the blow of how real and deep our pain can be. It is no help that we have expectations, dreams, aspirations and all these ideas of how marriage is supposed to be. Or at least how our marriage is supposed to be. But life has a way of interrupting our best laid plans and throwing a curve ball or two. That stress, exhaustion, and pressure can easily cause a small fight to escalate.
We begin to wonder, where did we get off track? How did we wake up and realize everything blew up? Where do we go now?
The danger lies in who and where we turn, to vent our frustrations, pour out our hurting hearts and confide our deepest pain. Who do you trust when your spouse isn't an option? Where do you go when the one person you want to share with is the one person you can't talk to, or stand to look at? At our wedding our Pastor said that "...we would know each other better than anyone else. We would have the ability to bring each other more joy and happiness than anyone else. But we would also have the power to hurt each other more deeply than anyone else." So when that person that we are closest to, that we trust the most and that love the deepest is the one that is hurting us, where do we go?
I can tell you where not to go.
Facebook. While it is so easy in our pain or anger to pick up our phone, let our fingers fly, and post a brash and brutal status update. Suddenly 450 of your closest internet friends are intimately involved in your marriage.
Friends. A good friend can be great source of encouragement and support, but I warn you to tread carefully. While most friends will have the best intentions and want to make you feel better, their first goal should be to help you recognize your feelings, and the path to working through things with your spouse. Make sure the friends you confide in are the ones that not only want your marriage to succeed but can speak truth in love to you about it.
Family. Sharing with our family is another area that can provide an abundance of love and support. I know my parents absolutely adore my husband and have accepted him into our family with open arms. As much as they love him, if I were to air my frustrations and share my complaints of our problems, it wouldn't take much to influence their opinion of him. I am still their little girl, and my heart is the one they spent 18 years trying to protect. Families are loyal. So instead of getting into the details of the argument, it's safe to ask families for support and encouragement as you both work through a tough season of your marriage.
At the end of the day we just want to know that in our brokenness that we aren't alone. There is nothing wrong with that. The truth is we are not alone. When the walls are closing in, when the silence is deafening and when we are blue in the face from fighting; we are not alone. The real question comes though in who you invite into your marriage. Is it a friend? A family member or a counselor? God?
In your most intimate of conflicts, I encourage you to take some time to think about where and who you turn to for support. What kind of response do you get when you share? Do you share at all?
Recently my husband and I saw this band in concert, this song moved both of us deeply. With him by my side and God on our team, I would rather be broken together than alone any day.
I hear that phrase often; and while I appreciate the sentiments; I feel I need to be honest.
I don't do it all.
Currently these are the hats I wear: wife to Paul, stay at home mom to Grace (3) and Avarey (7 months), full time student with a dual major, daughter, cousin, friend, church member, and Cassey. Here's the thing, I love every single one of those hats, and I don't feel I would be complete without any of them. So I do my best, but I certainly don't do it all. Here is a realistic snapshot of my life:
1) My house is a disaster. I mean laundry mountain, toys everywhere, two months worth of mail scattered about, please don't look at my floors...or my shelves...or my pantry. My microwave and toilets are just begging to be scrubbed, but they are competing with the never ending line of dishes, trash and general day-to-day clutter.
2) I tell my kids constantly that I can't play, read, dance etc because I have to finish my homework. I spend 10 hours a week at campus, 3-4 hours meeting with my learning teams, and another 12+ hours on homework. I love learning, finishing school is an important goal, my degree will help my family, but honestly it feels like these next two years are going to take forever.
3) My relationships are suffering. If I haven't called you, seen you or remembered your birthday, please accept my most sincere apology. I have neglected friends and family, I have flaked on play dates, outings and meals. Believe me when I say that I would love nothing more than to catch up with each one of you over coffee or a meal. In fact, I would love to have you over to my house so I can host you and remind you how special you are to me. Sadly though, please see points 1 & 2.
4) I am a complete space cadet and forgetful Frieda. I rely on apps on my phone to remind me to pay bills, finish assignments, pick up the mail, give the girls baths, eat and spend time with my husband.
That's a small sample of the chaos in my life. But here is the good news. My house is ok. We can live here, and it's getting better. Paul is an amazing help and Grace is learning to take care of her things too. The house will get clean...someday.
I do make time to spend with my family. I recently prioritized my health and family. I need to take care of my body and my family - or I won't have anything to work with to accomplish my other goals.
I got my first B. I have been working my butt off and maintaining a 4.0- which is great, but completely unnecessary. It's okay that I got a B. I worked hard, I learned the material but I am learning to balance my time and energy.
I'm trying to maintain my relationships. I care about you, all of you. And I hope that we can grab coffee, or better yet, that we can go sit in the shade while the kids play. I miss and crave adult conversation, but honestly I am too overwhelmed to ask for it. So please, call me, text me- I will make time.
So maybe it is possible that "I do it all." But maybe I am getting a B average. And that is something I am learning to be okay with.
I never understood truly what the meaning behind the phrase "to go all mama bear." I guess I always assumed that as a parent you would do anything within your power to protect your child from all harm. And maybe my own family dysfunction prevented me from seeing first hand what it means for a parent to fully and sincerely protect and elevate the well being of the child. But now, I am a parent and especially in the last year I have found myself being the ultimate mama bear.
There is a lullaby I sing to the girls each night by the artist JJ Heller and it's called "Keep You Safe" the chorus is this:
"My love is a light driving away all of your fear.
So don't be afraid, remember I made,
A promise to keep you safe."
It seemed natural to me to promise that I would keep them safe, in fact I am pretty sure it is rule number 2 in the parent handbook. (Rule number 1 is to love them unconditionally) In the last year I have found myself exploring though what exactly it means to keep them safe, safe from what, or rather from who?
The basics are pretty obvious. We use the appropriate car seats, provide a safe home, nutritious meals, well child check ups, bike helmets, proper hygiene, hand holding across the street, supervision in public, stranger danger etc.
But what about the harder, more gray areas? What about the people we are close to? The situations that don't have an automatic answer? What if you had a family member who was a constant drunk - do you take your kids around them, or would that be unsafe? What if a family member was physically abusive? Hard to keep your kids away, but seems pretty necessary to keep your children safe from any kind of hazard or potential abuse right?
I come from a large, funny, loud, and loving but dysfunctional family. Mental illness, codependency, emotional meltdowns, guilt trips and manipulation run rampant in my family. I will be the first to admit I was guilty of all of the above. (Maybe someday I will write my testimony of the power of how faith, therapy, a support system, and medication can change a person completely) But anyway, I know personally what strong demons can be within a person and how confusing, exhausting and emotional it is to suffer with mental illness. I do not wish it on my worst enemy and I pray for all those affected. Mental illness is a great deceiver. It convinces you that your perceptions of a situation are correct, it robs you of your ability to explore other opinions, perceptions or possible truths. It is near impossible to separate emotion from objective understanding. Even with the best of intentions and the most loving of hearts, mental illness can encourage a person to see the worst in others, act irrationally and hurt those around you deeply. Mental illness makes you forget that anyone else could possibly be as hurt as you, as well intentioned as you or as honest as you. Mental illness is a jerk.
So what does this have to do with my kids? Everything.
For years I tolerated and empathized with the members of my family that I could not see eye to eye with. I played their games, I accepted the role of villain and allowed them to be a victim. I sympathized with their misery and I prayed for their demons. I made nice and genuinely gave them chance after chance after chance every time they emotionally erupted all over me with no regard to my feelings or anyone else in their path. There were no boundaries, no consequences and relationships could never progress past the surface. I felt empty, used and abused; because I was. It started as a child and continued as an adult. My self esteem, value, beliefs and understanding of what it meant to be "family" were completely distorted. There were members of my family who did their very best to protect me and keep me safe from it all, but unfortunately they were just too close to the situation. The only person who can stop mental illness is the person who suffers from it, no one else can change them. So you have a few choices: deal with that situation as is, set and enforce healthy boundaries or remove that situation all together.
When I became a parent I tried the first choice. I knew that was just how it had always been and it was likely to never change. But then there was an instance that a family member had a complete emotional meltdown because I asked why they were late. She yelled, sobbed, threw things, made horrible accusations, immediately started referencing the past and drove off like a maniac. All of this in front of my four month old daughter. I got all mama bear.
I sought the guidance of my counselor, my pastor and a trusted friend. I prayed and prayed and read and prayed and wrote and prayed and thought and prayed. I decided to take cues from the book "Boundaries" by Dr. Henry Cloud. I knew that what had happened was not okay on any level and that as a parent it was my job to protect my children from that happening again. I asked for three rules:
1. No discussing the past. It's over. Let's build a relationship for the future.
2. There are only two people in this relationship. No gossip, no ganging up.
3. We act like adults. No meltdowns, no screaming matches, no temper tantrums, no feuds.
Unfortunately mental illness won again and a couple family members couldn't agree. In fact, mental illness convinced them I was being selfish, a bad Christian, mean and fake. That hurt in places so deep I can't even tell you. The worst part is that for me to enforce these boundaries and protect myself, my husband and my two daughters from the mental, verbal and emotional abuse that is constant in certain family members, we have to keep our distance. I know that this is killing some people in my family, the people who don't deserve it, the peace keepers and the matriarch. And that breaks my heart. But those people also are able to understand where I am coming from and since they truly know me and my heart, they know my intentions are to sincerely protect my kids.
"Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." Proverbs 4:23 NLT
God has provided amazing opportunities in my life. I have the most wonderful, loving, supportive and strong husband, Paul. Together we have beautiful, smart, loving and happy girls. Our job is to not only protect our hearts, but theirs. As we raise them it is our responsibility to build their foundation, to train them up to know that they were created in His image and to fulfill His will for them.
So as hard as it is, as much as it hurts and as confusing as it may be to others; this is probably the most difficult challenge we face to fulfill our promise to our kids to keep them safe.
**Here is the video to JJ Heller's song - it's our favorite lullaby!**
For the last year or so I have kept an online journal to the girls. It's a place where I can offer them my thoughts, memories and advice. Some days I tell them how crazy and stressed out they've made me - but that it's ok because it comes with the job. But today was a good day, and I thought I would share how incredibly blessed and proud I am to have been chosen to receive my Grace Tish.
You are my sunshine
Dear Grace,
I just wanted to take a minute and write down just how truly wonderful you are. I feel so blessed to be your Momma and get a front row seat of how you grow and change daily. Here are my favorite moments from today.
I was in the kitchen and I heard Ava start crying. By the time I could get to my room you were next to her on the bed. You were rubbing her head, leaning in and gently singing 'you are my sunshine.' I paused and watched as you exuded comfort, peace and love on your baby sister. And equally how Ava responded to you. She was completely content, she trusts you, finds comfort in you and smiles everytime she sees you. The compassion and nurture that you show others brings me great joy and pride.
**Never forget to care about people.**
Later in the day, you and I were cuddling and you told me that you would snuggle and make silly faces if you could nap in my bed. I love that you negotiate and bargain, you get that from Daddy! And because you are always on the move, I took you up on your offer; and I enjoyed every single second that I got to hold you close.
**Take time to be close to the ones you love.**
Finally, you asked what we were doing today. I told you that I had school. You grabbed my leg, threw your arms around my waist and I begged me not to go. I wanted more then anything to throw my purse down, scoop you up and give you all my time and attention. But I couldn't. You, Avarey, and Daddy are my main reasons for going to school. My education currently gives me a place to recharge, be challenged and grow in different ways then being home with you. It allows me to finish a goal I set and fulfill a dream. It will help to provide for our family and secure our future. So while I don't like telling you I can't play because I have homework, and I hate leaving you while I go to class, I am proud of myself. This is something I need to keep me Cassey. I want you to know that someday when you are a wife and mother, that you still do things to remind you who Grace is.
**Remember that it's extremely important to honor who you are and take care of yourself. Then you will be able to care for others.**
All I all today was a good day. You make me laugh, crazy, tired, joyful and a little nuts. But I wouldn't change a hair on your body, because you are my sunshine.
Six years ago I sat in premarital counseling with Paul and was issued a difficult assignment. Create a family tree. What??? A family tree? I needed a forest. How did I decide what family to include? Sure, I start with my nuclear family - Mom, Dad, Siblings, Grandparents - that's a good place to start right? Well crap. I don't talk to my mom, between my 3 siblings, we have 3 different moms, I have six grandparents, but I don't know much about 4 of them. Ah my head is already spinning. Okay, let's just focus on the "family" that's involved in my everyday life. Not necessarily blood relation, but the people I "do life" with. Okay so that includes my grandparents, they raised me, their friends that have been around the last 40 years and their kids and grand-kids. So now my "tree" was filled with people I lovingly called "aunt" or "cousin." I was good with it, I mean that's who I treated as family, but it still made no sense in tree form. This is just the tip of the iceberg. And this is why I failed that assignment. Not only could I not create a family tree, I couldn't define what family was to me or what the criteria for being "family" was. It was all too complicated. So I didn't. I just didn't label it, I didn't define it and I sure as heck didn't over complicate it. I just continued to "do life" with the people I love. "Framily."
This
morning my grandmother used the word "Framily." and it really got me
thinking. At first I thought it was the perfect way to describe how
complicated my family tree was; beyond our traditional family branches,
were extended family branches, and then the friends-turned-family
branches. This is how I will describe it going forward. Framily are the people that may or may not be related to me - but they are relate-able to me. We may not share ancestors or blood type; but we share joys, sorrows and life. It's not about where we come from as much as where we can go together. I can draw a family tree today. It would be a beautiful portrait of the people who are involved in my life. The people who support me, encourage me, influence me and love me. These people love my husband and my kids. The same way my grandmother's friends adopted me as "niece" my best friend has adopted my girls as her nieces. It's about love.
"We are all a little weird, and life's a little weird. And when we find someone who's weirdness is compatible with ours, we fall in mutual weirdness and call it love."
So I sat down last week with my phone, my computer, and several pieces of paper with scribbled notes on them. I was ready to compile a schedule. It took awhile, but I did it - I downloaded an excel template and I won - I filled in every box!! That's winning right? Here's a sample of what I started...
Looking at this schedule I realized it was mostly full, but still missing so many of the things I actually want time for. It proved what I already knew; there are not enough hours in the day. Feeling a bit frustrated and overwhelmed I sat down and started thinking about what I wanted a schedule to accomplish for me. Here's what I came up with:
Organization of commitments
Management of household chores
Dedicated quality family time
Personal time to read, write, go to the gym etc
Condense and make shopping trips more efficient
Meal Planning
I scoured the web, Pinterest, excel templates and blogs. I found a week at a glance template that I like really well so far. I like that I can print it, draw all over it and post it in the kitchen to review constantly. I can loosely break down and organize my household chores for the week. There isn't room for great detail, but I think I like that. I like that this sheet will literally give me a snapshot at a glance. Here's my first draft:
I think this will work well for the general idea of what is going on day to day. However, it will not provide a detailed calendar or task list. I went back to my research. After downloading a few different schedule apps, I decided to try Cozi. It works with iPhone, Android and has a web platform. One family has a shared account and the calendars can be downloaded into existing apps - like Google calendar. It also has options for meal planning, recipe look up and storage, multiple shopping lists by store, to do lists, a journal and a birthday tracker. It does have a cost of $29.99 a year but I signed up for the 14 day free trial to see how it goes. If it lives up to what I've seen tonight then I will definitely be signing up. I like it best on the web platform, especially for inputting a weeks worth of information. But the phone app is well done and I like that Paul can easily access everything too. Here's what it looks like on my phone.
Calendar View
Store Specific Shopping List
I'm sure my new system isn't perfect; in fact it's still just a first draft. But I do feel better already that I am able to get a better grasp on my time. Ultimately, now I can make sure I am using my time to accomplish the things that are most important to me first. Then maybe if I am using my time a little more efficiently then I can squeeze a little more out of the measly 24 hours in a day. Do you have any schedule tips? Great resources?
I was supposed to write this post on Monday. My first challenge was to identify an area that I need to drastically improve. I spent time thinking about it, but not dedicated time. It crossed my mind but I just couldn't decide on what area of my life was the first to get a makeover. So I kept going about my business getting more and more frustrated that I hadn't written this blog post yet. Then irony hit me like a ton of bricks. I need a realistic, just whelming (as opposed to overwhelming), balanced and organized schedule for our daily life. I am so disorganized with our time that I am finding a pattern where I start things with good intentions but without a dedicated and committed time to finish them they will never get done. I have been cutting myself some slack since we recently added a second child to the mix. But ultimately I know that when I feel like I know what my goals are daily, how I am structuring my time and what my priorities are, then I can relax more, I can feel success as I check off my list and I can give myself, my husband and my kids the attention they need. So, I have talked to Paul and tonight we are sitting down, after the girls are in bed, to lay out a first draft of an average schedule for us. We are going to brainstorm and put in place ways for us to keep the schedule and make changes. Challenge 1 - Identify a first area for improvement - Complete - albeit late, but it's done. Challenge 2 - Create, organize and share master daily schedule with plan for how to handle changes - To be completed by Friday 01/17/2014 Oh and a special thanks to my best friend Sarah for holding me accountable. She lovingly called me out that I was failing my first challenge. That's obviously exactly what I need and that's why I'm sharing this with all of you! For those of you that emailed/commented or messaged me - have you set a first goal? Or at least identified an area that needs a drastic makeover? Oh and this is how I feel when we are on a schedule...
I've never been the type to make New Year resolutions. The whole idea seemed like a waste of time. Because when I did it, I usually picked something superficial, easily measurable, and socially generic. That way when it didn't stick I could brush it off that it was just a silly resolution. And because on average only 8% of people actually succeed at their resolution, it wouldn't be shocking or even noticeable that I failed. Oddly enough in this whole scenario, the risk and likelihood of failure isn't my fear; my fear is the opposite. My fear is to be successful.
Marianne Williamson says it best:
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is
that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness
that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant,
gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a
child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is
nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel
insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were
born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just
in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we
unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are
liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates
others.”
As an introvert and as someone who doesn't like to 'rock the boat' this quote sums up my greatest and deepest fears. In my mind, if I am powerful, confident and leaving an influence on others, than I am ultimately responsible that the influence I am leaving is one that is positive and for the greater good. That is the terrifying part - I am supposed to be doing this for the glory of God - I am representing His plan, His strength, His love and His power - that's a pretty big job. I could be scared that I wouldn't do this well, I could easily be discouraged by the enormity of the request being made of me. But my fear isn't that I would fail at this challenge, or that I would fall short of God's expectations of me. My fear is that I will blow them out of the water.
Discipline, organization, education and execution of tasks are strengths of mine. But my greatest and deepest strength is my passion. When I am passionate about something, my whole being becomes enveloped in it. I combine my head knowledge with the compassion and enthusiasm of my heart and I attack with all I have. I think of all the ways my life could improve if I stop holding myself back and allowed success to be my only option instead of settling for 'doing okay.' This comes with great power. The same great power Marianne was talking about. It is encouraging, it is motivating, it gets you fired up and ready to take on the world. I suppose that is why that quote is used so often. But like most New Year resolutions that quote is empty without action.
Now is the time for action.
Instead of resolutions this year I am opting for a plan. It is a change that I want deeply and desperately, I have no idea how to measure it and I am yet to hear of any groups or clubs forming for support and accountability. That is where you come in. You my family, my friends and strangers who happen to find some way to connect through my writings.
Hold me accountable.
I plan to take the things in my life that I want to change or improve one at a time and attacking them. I plan to blog my goal, break down my plan for success then share my victories. I will ask for support, help and encouragement along the way. I will be vulnerable in my struggles, my weakness and my fears. I will be raw, transparent and authentic.
To start I am going to spend today reflecting and praying for my first goal. Tomorrow I will announce my first goal and begin attacking it. Here are some of the many 'resolutions' I considered making.
More quality time with family
Eat better, lose weight
Go on a mission trip
Finish 6 non-school books
Mentor someone financially, personally and spiritually
Write more
This is your official invitation to join me. This is our opportunity to create success. What are your goals? How do you see yourself being wildly successful and powerful? How can you liberate yourself and others?
When I was pregnant with my first and went into labor at 26 weeks to say I was terrified is an understatement. I was frozen, I was lost but somehow I managed to pull it together and began fighting for both my daughter and my lives. I am incredibly grateful and blessed that 3 years later, Grace is the picture of a healthy, happy and flourishing child.
There were many times though that I questioned if I would ever see her take her first breath. I wondered if she did survive, if she would be healthy, if she would develop properly, if she would be able to have a "normal" life. And being on bedrest I had plenty of time to go through every possible scenario in my head. Worry, anxiety, frustration and depression loomed over my head constantly and heavily. And as the complications piled up, the pain and discomfort intensified and the risks began to increase. I was feeling disconnected and bracing myself for the worst. I didnt know how or where I would find the courage and strength to make it through my pregnancy without a nervous breakdown.
Cue my angel.
One night in the hospital I was trying to sleep and rest in hopes that the contractions would stop; I had a dream that would change not only my attitude but my faith. In my dream I went into my daughters room in the middle of the night in a panic, my heart heavy just knowing something was wrong. I felt out of control and scared. When I finally opened the door I stopped in my tracks and instantly felt peace. I was looking at my daughter, tucked in bed, sweetly smiling and perfectly content, kneeling next to her was my sister-in-law Tish. With a quick glance, an all knowing smile and slight eyeroll Tish told me to "go back to bed and rest, we're doing fine."
I woke up feeling a rush of comfort, peace and excitement. My daughter was perfect, she was healthy and while she was physically growing in my stomach, she was being spiritually grown and protected by her Aunt and her Heavenly Father. I still smile and fight a tear when I think of that moment. In some of my darkest hours God showed His mercy and love to me. He showed His power and His promise. He reminded me I was not fighting alone.
Our daughter was born after 10 weeks on bedrest. She was perfect. We named her Grace Tish, it means "Mercy or Blessing of Joy and Delight." There could not be a more fitting name for her.
I was brought to these memories tonight as I am awake, pregnant, on bedrest and facing more complications. I'm trying to stay positive, I'm relying on the comfort and faith I have that this baby is a purposeful gift from God. But I will be honest, I'm still scared, I'm still worried and I am anxious to see my child and know that he/she is okay. It can still be overwhelming at times. But God knows when I need my angel.
I woke up sick, and made my way to the couch with a cup of tea. Feeling physically miserable, and mentally defeated my mind started to wander to places that do me no good. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw our family memory book to celebrate Tish, as I read the quotes she loved, and stared at the pictures of her sure and confident smile I began to feel comfort. The baby began kicking and I remembered who it is that is holding my baby right now. So if I couldn't get emotional enough, or in case God thought I needed one more reassurance, Grace walked out of her room at 4 am while I wrote this post. She slept on her arm wrong and needed me to rub it and give her a hug.
As I tucked her back in bed, knelt beside her and brushed the hair out of her face, I whispered "go to sleep and get some rest, we're doing fine."
My assignment yesterday was to share a song from the soundtrack of my life with my fellow starters. I thought long and hard, scrolled through several playlists and finally just opened up Shazam to see what songs had spoken to me recently. The first song listed was by City Harbor and was titled "Somebody Tell Them."
I listened to it again, and as my eyes filled with tears I realized that the message of this song is what God is calling me to write about. I have struggled with understanding what kind of blog I have, but looking at previous posts, it's evident to me now what God is asking me to do. My personal experiences, reflections and most intimate questions and challenges need to be exposed to encourage others who are experiencing similar things, but in the dark. For most of my life I suppressed the truths of my life for fear of rejection, inadequacy and doubt of my own self-worth. Then when I wrote about my struggles and lingering questions, the most amazing thing happened: I felt free, I felt accepted and I felt valuable.
I have received many notes of encouragement to keep writing, to keep sharing and keep encouraging. These notes mean so much to me and I humbly accept them but want to clearly put it out there that every blog I write, I do so because I have felt prompted that someone out there is waiting for me to tell them that it's all going to be okay and that they are not alone.
Thank you so much for your support and feedback. I truly appreciate the opportunity to share and encourage those who don't have the courage to ask. At the end of the day we are all children of God, and we are loved more then we know how to understand or accept.
Have a wonderful day and maybe think of a way you can share encouragement with someone today!
For months I have been desiring to blog more. I have hesitated and procrastinated because of fear. Fear of judgment, criticism, not having anything valuable to say and rejection. These fears are stupid, unfounded but unfortunately they have ruled my brain.
This month I began a 24 day challenge to start writing more, conquer my fears and figure out exactly what it is my hear is desiring to say. I am currently on day nine, and I will just say the first week was rough.
The first few days I was doing great, I was motivated, excited and confident. But then I was faced with the reality of my life. I am busy, I am pulled in multiple directions and quite honestly I have been using so much of my mental energy on school. I just got overwhelmed and tried to put it all on the back burner.
An environment change seemed to be just what I needed though to get back on track. For the last 4 days I have been a sponsor for our middle school youth group at their summer camp. I am here to encourage them, disciple them and support them. (Oh and make sure they are in bed on time lol) What is great about this week beyond the kids, is that I have a lot of free time each day in a beautiful God centered space. Needless to say this has given me a lot of time to reflect and ask God what exactly I am supposed to do with this blog.
So I am sitting and pondering the question, "what am I doing this for?" Why do I feel the desire to write? What am I trying to say? Where do I want this blog to go? How can I impact others and speak God's truths?
I don't have the answers, but I am at least glad to be asking the question. My next step is to evaluate each question and keep moving forward with my writing efforts.
What are some of the areas that fear holds you back? What are the questions or actions that you can use to move forward to conquer your fears?
Relatively speaking Grace is an easy child. I say relative, because for us that includes her boundless energy, lack of fear and the ability to make us laugh instead of yell during one of her mischievous adventures. She was a great baby, eating and sleeping well. She transitioned to solid foods like a champ and began sleeping in a big girl bed with no problems. Most recently she made great strides in potty training. Once she is ready to learn something it just clicks.
So when she all of a sudden started having "accidents" in her underwear over the last 2 weeks both Paul and I grew frustrated and impatient with her. We knew she was capable of using the bathroom, she had been doing so well and it just felt like she didn't care anymore. We were disappointed and discouraged. We tried to remain calm and encouraging with her, we tried new rewards and incentives, we structured her schedule and got her back into her routine. It wasn't working, she was still having accidents and acting like it was out of her control.
Because it was out of her control.
Today I started piecing together her behaviors and symptoms and it hit me like a ton of bricks. My child wasn't regressing, rebelling or being plain stubborn; she had a urinary infection. I called the doctor, jumped through some hoops and got her a same day appointment. The doctor confirmed what my instincts were screaming. We picked up some antibiotics and headed home.
At the end of the day, Paul and I felt the same way; we had been too harsh on her. We let our frustration and our expectations take over our reactions and we were simply too hard on her. We apologized to her, told her that we make mistakes too and made sure she got extra cuddles tonight before bed. As badly as I feel, I won't beat myself up over it; instead I will try to learn from this experience. My intentions were good, I believed in my child and her capabilities. My failure came when I reacted before looking at the situation fully.
These are the days where I realize just how hard being a parent can be.
A couple of weeks ago I was gathering books to share with our Financial Peace University class. While going through the bookshelves to pick them all out I became distracted and stuck. I had come across my very first diary. Using my best lock picking skills and a bobby pin I forced open the book and began reading.
The diary started the summer before 4th grade, right before I left for my first summer at camp. The book was filled with scribbled writings, poems, love letters, even some dried roses pressed between pages. It ends at the summer before middle school. (All 7th graders back then kept their journal in a black and white composition notebook of course) Most of the writings were daily accounts of the drama and excitement of my life. I was an active, social, and average preteen. What struck me though, is I had a habit of writing almost everyday.
I began to reflect on my lifelong hobby and my therapeutic use of writing. As long as I can remember I have kept a journal. Writing my thoughts down allows me to organize them and have a better chance at understanding them. But it's always my secret place.
Over the last year, however, I have begun to share my stories and thoughts. I have found that by putting my questions, realizations and personal experiences in a blog that not only am I freeing myself of them but I have been able to touch others with my story. I recently shared my darkest memories and deepest wounds with the world. The relief I felt and the encouragement I received have fueled a desire for me to share more.
So that brings me to this post. A few weeks ago I was challenged by Jon Acuff to join him on an adventure. There were no details, no explanations - just the expectation that it would last 24 days and would be an experience to push me out of my comfort zone and into greatness. I accepted.
Now I know that my personal challenge for the next 24 days, starting tomorrow, is to let go of my fear and start sharing my blog postings more regularly. It's time to be vulnerable, honest, and true to myself. I hope you join me on this journey. Read my blog, provide constructive or positive feedback and be praying for me along the way. I appreciate all the support and encouragement and look forward to this opportunity for growth.
Grace has been occasionally having night terrors for the last year and a half. I typically wake up to her screaming and sobbing, usually sitting in bed and appearing to be awake yet she has no awareness of her surroundings or my presence. There is little I can do to comfort her - mostly I rub her forehead and speak calming words to her until she calms down and falls back asleep. I feel helpless, horrified and heart broken.
The next morning Grace will wake up bounding with energy and acting like her happy go lucky two year old self. Meanwhile, I am exhausted from not sleeping, because even after she falls back asleep, I lie awake, praying for her peace and comfort, wondering what she was dreaming, googling how to prevent it etc etc. She doesn't remember anything, and I remember everything.
That's what fear does though. It gets inside of us, it grows and can eventually consume us. I know that there are nights that I will wake up to her cry and by the time I am falling back asleep I have gone through every possible bad thing that could ever happen to her. Fear does that. It robs us of our comfort, our peace and our strength.
It's natural for fear to come easily in parenthood, after all being responsible for the physical, emotional and spiritual well being of another human is scary. But fear will gladly infiltrate every other area of our life. Our relationships, our jobs, school, our daily life and our faith.
So how do we conquer fear? The only answer for me is God. He is the only one who can promise to relieve my fears and actually deliver. The bible has tons of scripture about fear, in fact it's what we are talking about at VBS this week: Facing Fear and Trusting God. But I keep coming back to the scripture that seems to provide me with comfort, hope, encouragement and peace in every situation.
"If God is for us, who can be against us?" Romans 8:31
It's pretty direct, it's a promise and it conquers all fear. I hate that Grace has night terrors, but she has God caring for her, and He blesses her every time she wakes with no memory of the horrible night. I have fears daily, but I am blessed by God every time I remember that He is here for me. None of my fears are bigger than Him.
Now, the hard part is what we are teaching the kids this week, trusting God. It's not natural to relinquish our sense of control and our own pride when it comes to turning our fears over to God. But it is absolutely necessary. We can't expect Him to do the work in us that He has promised if we won't give Him the control. So this week as we challenge the kids to face their fears and trust God, it's a great reminder for me to do the exact same.
.PNG)
