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Wednesday, December 5
Friday, October 5
All the Thoughts I Can't Post on Facebook
Dear people who like to challenge Christians on Facebook, and other public forums, but in this particular case, people who keep challenging me on my faith in Jesus:
It fills me with righteous anger when you question me about my beliefs, asking me to be open-minded, and not to be a "bible thumping fundie" who passes out judgement. How dare you ask me to do that for you, but not in any way allow me that same respect in return. I gently answer your sarcastic questions with the truth, and you turn around and call me a dreamer with an overactive sense of imagination. You accuse me of going to church so that I can learn to be good to get a reward, as though I'm a dog. You tell me that it's because of religion that the world is in turmoil and war, and yet while I answer you with nothing but kindness, you are the one who answers me back in wrath and revengeful spitfire.
It fills me with righteous anger when you question me about my beliefs, asking me to be open-minded, and not to be a "bible thumping fundie" who passes out judgement. How dare you ask me to do that for you, but not in any way allow me that same respect in return. I gently answer your sarcastic questions with the truth, and you turn around and call me a dreamer with an overactive sense of imagination. You accuse me of going to church so that I can learn to be good to get a reward, as though I'm a dog. You tell me that it's because of religion that the world is in turmoil and war, and yet while I answer you with nothing but kindness, you are the one who answers me back in wrath and revengeful spitfire.
You seem to think that I always believed, always knew there was a God. But I didn't.
I was one of those lost sheep. I was one of those who lived in darkness. I was condemned. I was full of sin. I lived my own life, my own way. The only difference was that I thought I was a believer. I was pretending. I think that made it worse.
I grew up my whole life living "right", until I hit my teens. I wanted answers, but none of them really satisfied my curiousity. I dabbled in a life that seemed more fitting to me. Thankfully I wasn't one for alcohol or drugs, so I mostly steered clear of those indulgences. No, for me it was boys. It is still hard, even on this private blog to tell you all the things that I did. It's embarassing, dirty, and really that kind of laundry just doesn't need to come out. I was filling a void. A huge void. It was the void in my heart that longed to be loved for who I am. To be loved, cherished, and to have value in someone elses' eyes. I did that for a long time, and it was painful - oh, so painful.
When I graduated high school I thought I could take cover from that lifestyle by going to Bible College. There I would be only surrounded by Christian friends, and the boys would be responsible and pure and wouldn't look at me "like that". But I was wrong. Even at Bible College there are hormones, temptations, sin and sinners. I turned down the advances of boys who didn't seem to notice my body. A boy I loved and would have married broke up with me because I was constantly pushing him too far physically. It was the boys who seemed to notice my body first that caught my eye. Before long I was in the same kind of trouble I was before. I came home from Bible College with more knowledge, but totally empty.
My sexual sins followed me home, and started up a few short months after I came home. This is where it gets tricky to keep my secrets totally hidden. I lived that life for a few years until finally I married Ryan, and the night of our wedding a burden so huge was finally lifted off my shoulders. I could finally do what I wanted to do without the guilt.
Throughout this entire time in my life I went to church. Was a camp counsellor. Called myself a Christian. But in the middle of the night, when no one was looking, I would sit in a closet at the end of our dorm hallway and cry. Pretending is exhausting.
Years later, Ryan and I attended his mom's church in Winnipeg. The pastor was so good, and was talking about how God does not need us to attain a certain level of faith before He accepts us. Though I had heard this same sermon many times before in different ways, it was like a whole new concept had been presented to me. He said that we could imagine ourselves to be on a staircase, with Heaven being the goal to reach at the top. No matter where we are on the stairs, we get to go to Heaven in the end. And no matter where we are on the stairs, God is always on the next stair - reaching out His hand for us to grasp, helping us get closer to Him. But NO MATTER WHERE WE ARE ON THOSE STAIRS, we are headed for Heaven. I don't need to get to a certain one to qualify. There is no route marker that reads, "Here you are! You are good enough!". I am good enough no matter where I am at. The key: I just have to believe.
THAT was the moment I became a believer. THAT was the moment I saw how I could have a relationship with God. THAT was the moment that changed my life. You DO change when the Holy Spirit enters your life. I have never been the same person again. THAT was a true rebirth.
A few years after that I got re-baptized upon the confession of my FAITH. I had been baptized as a teenager upon the confession... of not wanting to disappoint my parents when all the other kids were doing it. I got to give my testimony for GOD, and not myself.
Now I live for God. I struggle, I fail, I fall, I falter. I sin, I lie, I make huge mistakes. I don't read the Bible enough, pray enough, praise enough. But I believe. I believe with all my heart, soul and mind.
So don't you dare try to convince me that life on the other side of the fence is better. I was there. The grass looked greener, but it tasted like crap. And don't try to convince me that being on the fence is okay - Satan owns the fence too.
Sincerely, with all my hopes and prayers,
Heather
Friday, September 14
Scars
This one caught me by complete surprise.
I was innocently surfing along on Facebook this morning when I landed on this little beauty posted by my cousin (once-removed), Lindsay:
Tears immediately sprung to my eyes, but not because I was really feeling nostalgic about my pregnancies - even though we just celebrated 3 years since Rayya's birth, but I'll get into that another time. No, it was because this photo and quote was an answer to something I've been praying about.
I've been asking God to show me why I think so differently about my body than almost everyone else that I know. I've been asking Him if I'm wrong for what I've been thinking about it, and I'd been asking Him to show me if I'm doing the right thing. And then, there was my answer.
This is still bringing tears to my eyes - they are stinging with the beautiful truth that this is to me. I actually like my body. I like it, and I wear pants with double-digits. I like it, and I have a muffin top. I like it, and I wear a one-piece partially because my belly should no longer be seen by the public. I like it, and I put on Spanx sometimes. I like it, and I don't do a whole lot to change it - just maintain it.
I've been feeling guilt for not jumping on the bootcamp bandwagon. I've been feeling guilty for openly enjoying sweets and treats, and not really worrying about the little bit of weight gain or loss I may experience from that. I've been feeling down on myself for what I thought was laziness, and a lack of motivation to "beautify" my outside. I don't want to be obese, overweight, or unhealthy - but I'm not big on making huge changes to my "less-than-ideal-society-decided" body. I feel freedom to eat what I like, exercise as much as I choose, and buy clothing in what ever number, letter or size looks right. And I finally figured out why.
I am PROUD of my body because I wanted it to look like this! I want the evidence of 5 pregnancies and 2 precious babies! I'm not in a rush to crunch my abs into a six pack. I'm not in a rush to carve lines of rippling muscles into my soft mommy arms. I'm not in a rush to tone up my tush while it spends hours on hard floors playing puzzles, and picking up Lego pieces. I'm not in a rush, because I BEGGED God for these scars and I got them. I love them, and I love this body. It's a healthy body. Functional. It doesn't turn other men's heads in my direction, but it turns my husband's head - and that is all I need anyway. I like my body and I actually don't really have a desire to change it, because I want it like this.
I might change it someday. It does appeal to me to be thinnger, leaner, stronger, and to fit in with society's ideals in a way. But not now. Not while I have the trophy's of my endeavours running around me, and loving me even though I look the way I look (which by the way, is not a bad way to look - it just doesn't measure up with most womens' ideal body). I am working on my inner beauty right now, and I firmly believe that is more important. As someone else quoted on Facebook today:
The enemy tried to hurt me by taking away babies that I loved, and longed to hold. But I didn't stop, and I kept on trodding in faith. My postpartum scars not only remind me of my miracle babies, but they remind me of the lowest, hardest walk I had in my faith - and how God pulled me through. He never let me go. So I hang on to this body with the utmost respect and great love for what it symbolizes, what it represents.
My guess is that Jesus isn't going to get rid of His scars, hide them and hate them. He loves His scars for what they mean to Him, and to us. That's why I'm going to love mine.
NOTE: Just to be sure I'm not taken wrong, I am not saying whatsoever that anyone should ignore exercise, eat unhealthy, and live an unhealthy lifestyle. I try to get daily exercise, eat healthy meals, and live well. I just don't want those things to get in the way of a healthy focus on my body, and a good use of my time. So just to be sure - I am not saying that there is a single thing wrong with exercising (bootcamp in particular! I love doing them online!) and all that stuff, I'm just saying that for me and in this stage of my life, they are not the things I want to pursue the most.
I was innocently surfing along on Facebook this morning when I landed on this little beauty posted by my cousin (once-removed), Lindsay:
Tears immediately sprung to my eyes, but not because I was really feeling nostalgic about my pregnancies - even though we just celebrated 3 years since Rayya's birth, but I'll get into that another time. No, it was because this photo and quote was an answer to something I've been praying about.
I've been asking God to show me why I think so differently about my body than almost everyone else that I know. I've been asking Him if I'm wrong for what I've been thinking about it, and I'd been asking Him to show me if I'm doing the right thing. And then, there was my answer.
This is still bringing tears to my eyes - they are stinging with the beautiful truth that this is to me. I actually like my body. I like it, and I wear pants with double-digits. I like it, and I have a muffin top. I like it, and I wear a one-piece partially because my belly should no longer be seen by the public. I like it, and I put on Spanx sometimes. I like it, and I don't do a whole lot to change it - just maintain it.
I've been feeling guilt for not jumping on the bootcamp bandwagon. I've been feeling guilty for openly enjoying sweets and treats, and not really worrying about the little bit of weight gain or loss I may experience from that. I've been feeling down on myself for what I thought was laziness, and a lack of motivation to "beautify" my outside. I don't want to be obese, overweight, or unhealthy - but I'm not big on making huge changes to my "less-than-ideal-society-decided" body. I feel freedom to eat what I like, exercise as much as I choose, and buy clothing in what ever number, letter or size looks right. And I finally figured out why.
I asked to have this body. I PRAYED to have this body!
I am PROUD of my body because I wanted it to look like this! I want the evidence of 5 pregnancies and 2 precious babies! I'm not in a rush to crunch my abs into a six pack. I'm not in a rush to carve lines of rippling muscles into my soft mommy arms. I'm not in a rush to tone up my tush while it spends hours on hard floors playing puzzles, and picking up Lego pieces. I'm not in a rush, because I BEGGED God for these scars and I got them. I love them, and I love this body. It's a healthy body. Functional. It doesn't turn other men's heads in my direction, but it turns my husband's head - and that is all I need anyway. I like my body and I actually don't really have a desire to change it, because I want it like this.
 |
| My belly as it looks today. |
"A scar simply means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you".
The enemy tried to hurt me by taking away babies that I loved, and longed to hold. But I didn't stop, and I kept on trodding in faith. My postpartum scars not only remind me of my miracle babies, but they remind me of the lowest, hardest walk I had in my faith - and how God pulled me through. He never let me go. So I hang on to this body with the utmost respect and great love for what it symbolizes, what it represents.
My guess is that Jesus isn't going to get rid of His scars, hide them and hate them. He loves His scars for what they mean to Him, and to us. That's why I'm going to love mine.
NOTE: Just to be sure I'm not taken wrong, I am not saying whatsoever that anyone should ignore exercise, eat unhealthy, and live an unhealthy lifestyle. I try to get daily exercise, eat healthy meals, and live well. I just don't want those things to get in the way of a healthy focus on my body, and a good use of my time. So just to be sure - I am not saying that there is a single thing wrong with exercising (bootcamp in particular! I love doing them online!) and all that stuff, I'm just saying that for me and in this stage of my life, they are not the things I want to pursue the most.
Thursday, August 2
Who Created Violence?
Matthew 10:16-22 “Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Beware of men, for they will deliver you over to courts and flog you in their synagogues, and you will be dragged before governors and kings for my sake, to bear witness before them and the Gentiles. When they deliver you over, do not be anxious how you are to speak or what you are to say, for what you are to say will be given to you in that hour. For it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you. Brother will deliver brother over to death, and the father his child, and children will rise against parents and have them put to death, and you will be hated by all for my name’s sake. But the one who endures to the end will be saved… “
Monday, July 30
I'll Cover Mine, If You Cover Yours
Modesty seems to be pretty hot, or should I say "going viral", on the internet these days. Even among Christians that I've seen posting articles and commenting on things online I see that there is a great divide among us when it comes to all things modest. I have a very strong view about it, and so with the utmost respect to all those who will not see eye-to-eye with me on this one - please do not post angry comments. I'm not trying to hurt anyone's feelings. I'm just gonna write my opinion down here.
I've been feeling HUGELY convicted when it comes to modesty, and that comes from someone who has always felt really strongly about it!
God is calling to me to see the importance of my attire, how it looks to others, and how I want to be perceived by the world, my husband, my kids, my kid's friends, my friends, my friend's husbands... the list goes on. Right off the hop I will say this - I understand that we are not all convicted of the same things at the same time. I will not judge you if I see you in a bikini, nor will I judge your daughter if I happen to see her in shorts that barely cover her rear.
When I was in Bible College in 1999-2000, one of the guys from our brother dorm came to talk to us about modesty. I took some of what he said to heart, but at that time, and at that level of immaturity (both physically, and spiritually) I thought he was being pretty dramatic. I remember thinking, "Wow, this guy needs to get a grip and figure out his OWN problems!". How seriously selfish, inconsiderate, and very UN-CHRIST-LIKE was that attitude?!
He was a guy who had struggled with pornography, lust and other sinful desires in his life. He openly confessed to us many of the things that he had seen and done, and how that had affected him. He also gave us a long list of things that women do that provoke men to lustful thoughts - and they were A LOT tamer than I would have guessed. To name a few things that he mentioned as being the TOP reasons women cause men to lust: bra straps showing, spaghetti strap tank tops and dresses, bikinis, very short shorts, pierced belly buttons, and cleavage. You might already be mad that I've said "women CAUSE men to lust" because you might be thinking "that is THEIR problem, close your eyes, turn away, get some help". That's what I thought too. But that was then.
Now, as I watch a generation of teens growing up in a world where modesty seems to have been thrown out the window in order to conform, or maybe just to keep the peace, I see what we've lost. I'm seeing the value in something that we are losing more and more each day. Honestly, modesty is an endangered species. Not even Christians want to talk about it - let alone take action.
Today in church I took note of how many women had bra straps showing - IN CHURCH - which was totally NOT allowed when I was growing up, and that was on a regular weekday! Let me just say, it was lots. Little tank tops with cute pink bra straps peeking out. Racerback tanks, layered with another tank top, and more bra straps. Mothers in sundresses with bra straps fully exposed. Did you know that bras used to be considered PRIVATE, unspoken about in public? Why do you think the first thing feminists did was take off their bras and burn them? Because that was considered a seriously private matter for women's eyes only - and for their husbands behind closed doors. Now this one thing I do occassionally bend as a rule - because there are times when a strap will peek out. Personally I've bought some cheap little plastic clips that conceal my straps in nearly all situations. I don't usually wear spaghetti straps, because I'm "voluptuous" and my bra straps aren't cute and pink, so I don't want to show them off to begin with. However, I will be raising my own daughter to keep them hidden as much as possible - with church being a 100% hidden zone. The voluptuous thing is another whole problem, and I intend to work on keeping the "ladies" in their place, and unseen as much as possible.
I don't want my son to think about you in your bra - neither do I want your son thinking about me in mine. Or my daughter, or your daughter, or any women. Guys like bra straps because bra straps are attached to a bra, which holds the... well, you know!
Also in church today was one pair of REALLY short shorts. I don't really like them in public much either, but at least in those situations I can have grace. I actually like my legs - one of the few parts of my body I really like - so I do wear shorts. But they have to entirely cover my butt - even if I need to bend down! But seeing them in church... I don't know. I think in the house of God, our Creator, we could do better.
Moreover, I don't really want to get into all the different ways that I think the modesty line has been crossed. I just want us Christian women to consider our role to the men we encounter day-to-day. I want you to know that I respect you, your husband, brother, son enough to cover up so I don't cause him to stumble. I want us to remember that all the reasons we might have to flaunt our stuff always comes down to a selfish desire. When reading comments on a Christian woman's blog post about bikinis, all I could think about as I read them was that no one, and no where, was there any good way to make an argument for the wearing of a bikini (or any immodest dress for that matter) that could be backed up Scripturally. You just can't. There is nothing in the Bible that will advocate for the showing off of one's body. Now, that being said, I don't wear a bikini. The initial decision had nothing to do with modesty - but rather the knowledge that my post-baby belly just really isn't that good looking to most of the public! So perhaps it's easy for me to slam bikini wearing. Maybe I'd be spouting off about guys needing to get it together too, if I had a six pack. I'm not really sure.
What I do know is that I'm going to be practicing modesty, and teaching it to my kids. I want to encourage you to do the same. I'm asking you to think about this for the sake of my son, for my daughter, and for all those men out there who need our help.
Proverbs 11:22 ESV
Like a gold ring in a pig's snout is a beautiful woman without discretion.
1 Peter 3:3-4 ESV
Do not let your adorning be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear— but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious.
1 Timothy 2:8-10 ESVI desire then that in every place the men should pray, lifting holy hands without anger or quarreling; likewise also that women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control, not with braided hair and gold or pearls or costly attire, but with what is proper for women who profess godliness—with good works.
1 John 2:16 ESVFor all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world.
Alright... I'm clicking "Publish". Hope I won't be sorry I did!
I've been feeling HUGELY convicted when it comes to modesty, and that comes from someone who has always felt really strongly about it!
God is calling to me to see the importance of my attire, how it looks to others, and how I want to be perceived by the world, my husband, my kids, my kid's friends, my friends, my friend's husbands... the list goes on. Right off the hop I will say this - I understand that we are not all convicted of the same things at the same time. I will not judge you if I see you in a bikini, nor will I judge your daughter if I happen to see her in shorts that barely cover her rear.
When I was in Bible College in 1999-2000, one of the guys from our brother dorm came to talk to us about modesty. I took some of what he said to heart, but at that time, and at that level of immaturity (both physically, and spiritually) I thought he was being pretty dramatic. I remember thinking, "Wow, this guy needs to get a grip and figure out his OWN problems!". How seriously selfish, inconsiderate, and very UN-CHRIST-LIKE was that attitude?!
He was a guy who had struggled with pornography, lust and other sinful desires in his life. He openly confessed to us many of the things that he had seen and done, and how that had affected him. He also gave us a long list of things that women do that provoke men to lustful thoughts - and they were A LOT tamer than I would have guessed. To name a few things that he mentioned as being the TOP reasons women cause men to lust: bra straps showing, spaghetti strap tank tops and dresses, bikinis, very short shorts, pierced belly buttons, and cleavage. You might already be mad that I've said "women CAUSE men to lust" because you might be thinking "that is THEIR problem, close your eyes, turn away, get some help". That's what I thought too. But that was then.
Now, as I watch a generation of teens growing up in a world where modesty seems to have been thrown out the window in order to conform, or maybe just to keep the peace, I see what we've lost. I'm seeing the value in something that we are losing more and more each day. Honestly, modesty is an endangered species. Not even Christians want to talk about it - let alone take action.
Today in church I took note of how many women had bra straps showing - IN CHURCH - which was totally NOT allowed when I was growing up, and that was on a regular weekday! Let me just say, it was lots. Little tank tops with cute pink bra straps peeking out. Racerback tanks, layered with another tank top, and more bra straps. Mothers in sundresses with bra straps fully exposed. Did you know that bras used to be considered PRIVATE, unspoken about in public? Why do you think the first thing feminists did was take off their bras and burn them? Because that was considered a seriously private matter for women's eyes only - and for their husbands behind closed doors. Now this one thing I do occassionally bend as a rule - because there are times when a strap will peek out. Personally I've bought some cheap little plastic clips that conceal my straps in nearly all situations. I don't usually wear spaghetti straps, because I'm "voluptuous" and my bra straps aren't cute and pink, so I don't want to show them off to begin with. However, I will be raising my own daughter to keep them hidden as much as possible - with church being a 100% hidden zone. The voluptuous thing is another whole problem, and I intend to work on keeping the "ladies" in their place, and unseen as much as possible.
I don't want my son to think about you in your bra - neither do I want your son thinking about me in mine. Or my daughter, or your daughter, or any women. Guys like bra straps because bra straps are attached to a bra, which holds the... well, you know!
Also in church today was one pair of REALLY short shorts. I don't really like them in public much either, but at least in those situations I can have grace. I actually like my legs - one of the few parts of my body I really like - so I do wear shorts. But they have to entirely cover my butt - even if I need to bend down! But seeing them in church... I don't know. I think in the house of God, our Creator, we could do better.
Moreover, I don't really want to get into all the different ways that I think the modesty line has been crossed. I just want us Christian women to consider our role to the men we encounter day-to-day. I want you to know that I respect you, your husband, brother, son enough to cover up so I don't cause him to stumble. I want us to remember that all the reasons we might have to flaunt our stuff always comes down to a selfish desire. When reading comments on a Christian woman's blog post about bikinis, all I could think about as I read them was that no one, and no where, was there any good way to make an argument for the wearing of a bikini (or any immodest dress for that matter) that could be backed up Scripturally. You just can't. There is nothing in the Bible that will advocate for the showing off of one's body. Now, that being said, I don't wear a bikini. The initial decision had nothing to do with modesty - but rather the knowledge that my post-baby belly just really isn't that good looking to most of the public! So perhaps it's easy for me to slam bikini wearing. Maybe I'd be spouting off about guys needing to get it together too, if I had a six pack. I'm not really sure.
What I do know is that I'm going to be practicing modesty, and teaching it to my kids. I want to encourage you to do the same. I'm asking you to think about this for the sake of my son, for my daughter, and for all those men out there who need our help.
Proverbs 11:22 ESV
Like a gold ring in a pig's snout is a beautiful woman without discretion.
1 Peter 3:3-4 ESV
Do not let your adorning be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear— but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious.
1 Timothy 2:8-10 ESVI desire then that in every place the men should pray, lifting holy hands without anger or quarreling; likewise also that women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control, not with braided hair and gold or pearls or costly attire, but with what is proper for women who profess godliness—with good works.
1 John 2:16 ESVFor all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world.
Alright... I'm clicking "Publish". Hope I won't be sorry I did!
Wednesday, July 18
Don't Rock the Boat
As a person who deals with a constant battle against anxiety and stress I have long-since learned not to rock the boat. For example, if the routine works, don't change it. If the meal rotation works, don't tweak it. If the daily schedule works, don't mess with it. If the kids are on the brink of melt down, don't put them into an unpredictable situation and watch the mess unfold.
So today was smoothly sailing along. I made a last-minute decision to head out to a pool with some friends for the day. My anxiety threatened the plan, but I decided (with some prayer) that I was not going to let my anxiety rule me today. It was a good choice. The kids had a blast all day, and did fantastic.
When we got home the kids had some down time while I made supper. They devoured the pizza like it was the first thing they had eaten in weeks! It was time to discuss with James whether or not he was still interested in heading out to VBS. His dear friend that he had spent the day with at the pool, and whom he sees very rarely had invited him. Knowing that they are not in the same age group, I sort of assumed that the switch would not be a big deal, and he would seamlessly be allowed to join another class despite his age.
WRONG.
Now for a quick interlude. I KNEW this was a mistake. We had spent all day at the pool, and though the chaos of that went unnoticed, I know that deep down inside it affects James. Now throw this over sensitive, over tired, over heating child back into chaos for a second time - and he just can't cope.
We walk over the arena (should have driven, just to give him a few more minuted of air conditioned space), and into the reception line where things are bustling. When I go to register James, and request the class he would like, we were somewhat harshly asked to step aside while the pre-registered kids were ushered in. At the same time, the comment "Oh, I really don't think that will work" is made - and that is the moment when James lost his cool. It's the moment I dread, because recovery is slim-to-none at that point. He started to sob, because all he wanted was to be with his friend. Not only was his sadness heart-breaking, but inside my heart was breaking, because in those situations I don't know what to say or do. I want to say, "Hey, look. James has a condition that makes this little bump in the road seem like a mountain. He is already hot, over tired, and just plain frustrated with all this commotion. If he would just simply be allowed to be with his friend, there is a great chance he will actually stay, and have a great time." But I freeze up, politely push over to the side, and do my best to make James feel okay even though he feels miles from it.
I knew it was a done deal, but I tried to wait around long enough to make sure he had a sufficient chance to change his mind and stay. I let him make the choice, and in the end, despite being allowed into his friend's class, he just wanted to go home.
I'm totally fine with his choice, because I saw the situation unfold before it even happened. I know that some people will think he is just a spoiled child who didn't get to have his way. I needed to give James the opportunity to try going to VBS tonight, but on the other hand, I feel guilt for seeing him get hurt and knowing that it was bound to happen. He can't learn to cope if I don't put him in situations that are unpredictable, and yet no matter what, when my little boy is hurting, my heart is shattering.
So today was smoothly sailing along. I made a last-minute decision to head out to a pool with some friends for the day. My anxiety threatened the plan, but I decided (with some prayer) that I was not going to let my anxiety rule me today. It was a good choice. The kids had a blast all day, and did fantastic.
When we got home the kids had some down time while I made supper. They devoured the pizza like it was the first thing they had eaten in weeks! It was time to discuss with James whether or not he was still interested in heading out to VBS. His dear friend that he had spent the day with at the pool, and whom he sees very rarely had invited him. Knowing that they are not in the same age group, I sort of assumed that the switch would not be a big deal, and he would seamlessly be allowed to join another class despite his age.
WRONG.
Now for a quick interlude. I KNEW this was a mistake. We had spent all day at the pool, and though the chaos of that went unnoticed, I know that deep down inside it affects James. Now throw this over sensitive, over tired, over heating child back into chaos for a second time - and he just can't cope.
We walk over the arena (should have driven, just to give him a few more minuted of air conditioned space), and into the reception line where things are bustling. When I go to register James, and request the class he would like, we were somewhat harshly asked to step aside while the pre-registered kids were ushered in. At the same time, the comment "Oh, I really don't think that will work" is made - and that is the moment when James lost his cool. It's the moment I dread, because recovery is slim-to-none at that point. He started to sob, because all he wanted was to be with his friend. Not only was his sadness heart-breaking, but inside my heart was breaking, because in those situations I don't know what to say or do. I want to say, "Hey, look. James has a condition that makes this little bump in the road seem like a mountain. He is already hot, over tired, and just plain frustrated with all this commotion. If he would just simply be allowed to be with his friend, there is a great chance he will actually stay, and have a great time." But I freeze up, politely push over to the side, and do my best to make James feel okay even though he feels miles from it.
I knew it was a done deal, but I tried to wait around long enough to make sure he had a sufficient chance to change his mind and stay. I let him make the choice, and in the end, despite being allowed into his friend's class, he just wanted to go home.
I'm totally fine with his choice, because I saw the situation unfold before it even happened. I know that some people will think he is just a spoiled child who didn't get to have his way. I needed to give James the opportunity to try going to VBS tonight, but on the other hand, I feel guilt for seeing him get hurt and knowing that it was bound to happen. He can't learn to cope if I don't put him in situations that are unpredictable, and yet no matter what, when my little boy is hurting, my heart is shattering.
Monday, July 2
SPD
Very, very few people are aware that James has something called SPD (Sensory Processing Disorder). We've never made it public, because for the longest time, we didn't even know that he had it, or that it existed as a disorder. Once we found out about it, we also knew that he didn't have it in a severe form, so we didn't really know if it would ever effect his life much. Also, we were not big fans of the idea of labelling him, or having a Dr. say that the best way to treat him would be drugs, or something crazy like that. We just wanted him to be James, and that's it.
To put it in an easy-to-understand way, James is extremely sensitive to all stimuli (sight, sound, taste, touch, etc.). Most people sense hundreds of different things in a day, and even moment to moment you can be experiencing various stimuli - but to someone who processes these stimuli normally, it doesn't effect you. If you have SPD, you can only process a small number of stimuli at a time - and all other stimuli around you may make you feel uncomfortable, stressed, unhappy, irritable, unfocused, or sometimes the total opposite.
In children, SPD often looks like hyperactivity, unable to listen, unable to calm down, oversensitive, picky, and sometimes uber-focused on something of high stimulant value like TV. Basically it makes a child look like they are completely misbehaved, if things are left uncontrolled.
I'll give you an example. We can be driving to Winnipeg, and all can appear to be normal to the rest of us, but suddenly James will start crying and be almost inconsolable. I have to assess what seems normal to me can be perplexing for him. When he was younger it was harder, because he couldn't explain to me what was bothering him. Now he can better explain, so often it doesn't escalate into the crying and hysteria. But let me continue. To me, the temperature of the car might be fine. If James is sitting in the sun, to him it might feel like he's burning up. To me, the song I like and turned up a little might sound good, to James it might sound like a jet engine roaring in his ears. To me, I might think I can wait 30 minutes before getting a drink at home, but to James his mouth may feel so dry that he coughs and gags. To me, it's just the smell of a pig barn, to James it's like someone just put piggy poo directly in his nose. All these things might be happening to me, and I won't notice even one of them because my brain processes what is going on, and compensates. To James, all these things are happening at one time, his brain has no clue why they are happening, and he can't calm down until everything has been put into place.
This is very, very similar to Asperger's or autism, but not as severe. James can and will learn to cope - and already has improved a lot. As he grows, he will continue to learn to cope and understand more of himself. He will learn when he needs "sensory breaks" - a time to get away from something, or a situation, causing him stress. A noisy classroom is almost the worst case scenario for someone with SPD. A notch about that for worst is gym class. On a recent field trip I predicted a meltdown when we ended up doing some parachute games. To everyone else, it was fun and exciting. To James there were the following over-stimulants: hot, confined room; noise; swishing colours and flapping parachute; kids running; tired; fluorescent lighting; soft floors. All these things combined was too hard for him to process, and eventually he just came to sit on my lap, cry it out a little, get some water in a cooler part of the building, and then he could refocus.
Another example. You know how it is almost impossible to drive when there is a child SCREAMING in the car? That's like James everyday. LIFE is screaming all around him, and when it gets to be too much, he just breaks down, or he'll just get super over-stimulated and be nearly wild.
So, we decided to have our own little fireworks show last night. Both sets of grandparents came, plus my aunt and uncle. James was totally excited to have all these people around (stimuli #1), so he was nearly bouncing off the walls. It was hot out, but the kids were wearing long sleeves and long pants due to mosquitos - so he was overheating (stimuli #2). The fireworks were bright (stimuli #3), and very loud (stimuli #4). It was late and he was tired (stimuli #5). It didn't surprise me that he felt that he should tune out the noise, so he went to get his industrial ear muffs. My aunt thought that was weird. After a while, James still couldn't deal with all the stuff going on, and asked to go inside - but he blamed the loud fireworks, because he's 5, and he still doesn't realize exactly why those situations bother him. He handled it so well - because asking to leave is a good coping mechanism instead of just crying. So I said he could gladly go in. My aunt just couldn't take it. She starts saying angrily to me, "You HAVE to stop pandering him! Just make him stay and face his fear of noise!". I just looked at her, and then proceeded to let James into the house. I've never told any of my extended family about James' condition.
Anyway, routine, quiet times, keeping things calm and relaxed as much as possible, and eating the same meals in a regular pattern are just a few things that keep life under control at our house. So the next time you are over, or if I can only have playdates last two hours at a time, and you see James reacting to something strange, or if I allow James to do something that seems odd, this may be the reason. We are praying that he will cope well in Grade 1. I have no idea what to expect - as it took until Spring Break for James to properly cope with Kindergarten. He's brilliant, and so kind, and I'm hoping that those around him will see that - and treat him for who he is, James - and not for who he isn't, a child with SPD.
To put it in an easy-to-understand way, James is extremely sensitive to all stimuli (sight, sound, taste, touch, etc.). Most people sense hundreds of different things in a day, and even moment to moment you can be experiencing various stimuli - but to someone who processes these stimuli normally, it doesn't effect you. If you have SPD, you can only process a small number of stimuli at a time - and all other stimuli around you may make you feel uncomfortable, stressed, unhappy, irritable, unfocused, or sometimes the total opposite.
In children, SPD often looks like hyperactivity, unable to listen, unable to calm down, oversensitive, picky, and sometimes uber-focused on something of high stimulant value like TV. Basically it makes a child look like they are completely misbehaved, if things are left uncontrolled.
I'll give you an example. We can be driving to Winnipeg, and all can appear to be normal to the rest of us, but suddenly James will start crying and be almost inconsolable. I have to assess what seems normal to me can be perplexing for him. When he was younger it was harder, because he couldn't explain to me what was bothering him. Now he can better explain, so often it doesn't escalate into the crying and hysteria. But let me continue. To me, the temperature of the car might be fine. If James is sitting in the sun, to him it might feel like he's burning up. To me, the song I like and turned up a little might sound good, to James it might sound like a jet engine roaring in his ears. To me, I might think I can wait 30 minutes before getting a drink at home, but to James his mouth may feel so dry that he coughs and gags. To me, it's just the smell of a pig barn, to James it's like someone just put piggy poo directly in his nose. All these things might be happening to me, and I won't notice even one of them because my brain processes what is going on, and compensates. To James, all these things are happening at one time, his brain has no clue why they are happening, and he can't calm down until everything has been put into place.
This is very, very similar to Asperger's or autism, but not as severe. James can and will learn to cope - and already has improved a lot. As he grows, he will continue to learn to cope and understand more of himself. He will learn when he needs "sensory breaks" - a time to get away from something, or a situation, causing him stress. A noisy classroom is almost the worst case scenario for someone with SPD. A notch about that for worst is gym class. On a recent field trip I predicted a meltdown when we ended up doing some parachute games. To everyone else, it was fun and exciting. To James there were the following over-stimulants: hot, confined room; noise; swishing colours and flapping parachute; kids running; tired; fluorescent lighting; soft floors. All these things combined was too hard for him to process, and eventually he just came to sit on my lap, cry it out a little, get some water in a cooler part of the building, and then he could refocus.
Another example. You know how it is almost impossible to drive when there is a child SCREAMING in the car? That's like James everyday. LIFE is screaming all around him, and when it gets to be too much, he just breaks down, or he'll just get super over-stimulated and be nearly wild.
So, we decided to have our own little fireworks show last night. Both sets of grandparents came, plus my aunt and uncle. James was totally excited to have all these people around (stimuli #1), so he was nearly bouncing off the walls. It was hot out, but the kids were wearing long sleeves and long pants due to mosquitos - so he was overheating (stimuli #2). The fireworks were bright (stimuli #3), and very loud (stimuli #4). It was late and he was tired (stimuli #5). It didn't surprise me that he felt that he should tune out the noise, so he went to get his industrial ear muffs. My aunt thought that was weird. After a while, James still couldn't deal with all the stuff going on, and asked to go inside - but he blamed the loud fireworks, because he's 5, and he still doesn't realize exactly why those situations bother him. He handled it so well - because asking to leave is a good coping mechanism instead of just crying. So I said he could gladly go in. My aunt just couldn't take it. She starts saying angrily to me, "You HAVE to stop pandering him! Just make him stay and face his fear of noise!". I just looked at her, and then proceeded to let James into the house. I've never told any of my extended family about James' condition.
Anyway, routine, quiet times, keeping things calm and relaxed as much as possible, and eating the same meals in a regular pattern are just a few things that keep life under control at our house. So the next time you are over, or if I can only have playdates last two hours at a time, and you see James reacting to something strange, or if I allow James to do something that seems odd, this may be the reason. We are praying that he will cope well in Grade 1. I have no idea what to expect - as it took until Spring Break for James to properly cope with Kindergarten. He's brilliant, and so kind, and I'm hoping that those around him will see that - and treat him for who he is, James - and not for who he isn't, a child with SPD.
Thursday, June 28
Look How Far We've Come!
I am so grateful, so incredibly grateful, that God spared me the pain of another loss after the first. And now, almost six years later, my precious gift from God has finished up his year in Kindergarten. I am not one of those moms that dreads summer holidays. Maybe sometime that will change. Right now I want to just lavish in my time with my little boy. Come fall he heads off into the world of "real" school. A stage in his life that will take up the next twelve years, and one that probably makes me pray for his safety and survival the most.
Kindergarten wasn't easy for James, and in some ways I wasn't totally surprised. James likes to be near me at all times. He doesn't have to see me, but he likes to know I'm close. That is because I like to have him near me at all time. I don't have to see him, but I like to know he's close. Maybe it's a first born thing. Maybe it is just me. But that boy is literally my heart walking around outside my body, and it scares me to death that he will be in someone else's care from 9:00am - 3:35pm every weekday. This is the only thing that makes me think that homeschooling is a viable option.
However, I need to let him go and experience life. My precious miracle boy needs to go out there and be great, and get hurt, and live life. And every day, maybe even as much as every hour, I will be praying for him. I just don't want anyone to crush his spirit, and ruin him. I don't want to see him be hurt in a way that can't be kissed away, and fixed with a fart joke and Oreos.
All that being said, I want to tell you about James. James is the most caring and compassionate boy I know! I feel absolutely like a beautiful, smart, fun and important person when I with him. He is abundantly smart, kind, caring, and friendly. He loves his sister more than I've ever seen a little boy love his sister. I wanted to raise him to be like that... but he is just like that on his own. He makes me so proud. He makes US so proud!
James is a fantastic swimmer. I got him kid-sized goggles this spring, and he can do things in the water with those goggles on that rival the likes of professional synchronized swimmers.
With that, I want to congratulate James on finishing Kindergarten. His teacher says so many great things about him. The potential for him to go far, and be great is absolutely there. So as sad as I am to let him go, I am so excited to see him succeed. To be there to watch as he soars, but still close enough to catch him if he falls.
James Kennedy, I love you with all my heart. I am so proud of you for doing your best. I am so proud of you for heading out to school every morning with zest, knowing that it wouldn't always be easy. I am so thankful we have all summer to hang out. I will be sad when you go off to grade one, and I'm going to really miss your face shining in the door at lunch when you get home. I'll have to wait three and half more hours every day for the best part of my day. I know you'll be excellent, and brilliant, because you already are.
P.S. I still often revisit the post I made on November 20, 2006 - the night before James was born. Everyone's anticipation and excitement about his arrival is still so beautiful and precious to me. I love reliving those last few days before becoming a mom. All my friends were so amazing!
The Lord bless you and keep you! May His face shine upon you, and give you peace! Amen.
Wednesday, May 9
Conspiracy Theories
WARNING: I wrote this rant in an angry outburst. Please accept my apologies.
Someone posted something on my Facebook status yesterday about disposable diapers being toxic. If you hadn't already heard this in the news, I'm sorry for now causing you undo stress as you calculate how many disposable diapers you, and your child(ren) have worn over the years, and how many percentage points each one will add to your chance (or their chance) of getting cancer. My guess is this: if you or your child get any type of illness, allergy, disease, cancer or otherwise sometime in your life, you will not blame the diapers your mom put you in, or the diapers that you put on your child. This is just a guess.
The conspiracy theory that goes along with toxic diapers (and there are actually toxins in diapers, I am not denying that fact), is that the chemical companies, and diaper companies don't care that we are poisoning our children as long as they are making money. Do you think that every single person that runs diaper companies and chemical companies cloth diapers their children? Do you think that they buy some other brand that is organic and natural at a higher price? Just take a guess.
Parents are so bombarded with theories, studies, facts, lies, media influences, marketing schemes, we don't even know how to HAVE a baby anymore! The next generation of mothers will probably assume that there are products, devices, and important pills they need to take to even conceive. How in the world did anyone ever actually manage to get pregnant prior to these "necessary" items?! It's so hard to fathom. But again, this is a just a guess.
So as parents we sift through all this info. We stress out. We lose sleep. We get anxious. We fall into depression. And then our beautiful baby gets a cold. Now we BOTH can't sleep. But what do the drug companies conveniently do? They take infant cold meds off the shelf. Why? Who overdosed their child? Did you? Did I? Did anyone you know overdose their baby? Why is that little convenience now gone? It never was because it was cancer-causing - like diapers. Weird. Well, maybe it's because taking it off the market makes parents even more broken, tired and depressed. Guess what?! Now the major market is not cold medication, but SLEEP AIDES, ANTI-DEPRESSANTS and ANTI-ANXIETY meds! What a much better world to live in, when parents everywhere are on meds to keep going. All this so that we don't put our children into toxic diapers... hmmmmmmmm...
What else have parents been attacked with? Poison baby bottles - we switched, because everytime I used the "bad bottles" I was beginning to worry. Poison infant formula cans. Poison baby food made in jars. Poison blankets, pajamas, creams, soaps, NATURAL soaps containing lavender and tea tree oil... this list is endless! ENDLESS!
If everyone started using cloth diapers, let's just say - can you guess what the new "issue" would be? It would be that too much feces is now being leached into the sewers, rivers and oceans. Exactly. It would only take a few years of all the extra poop and urine being washed among our regular laundry for "them" to start complaining that there are now toxins from feces in the water, and in our clothing. Traces of feces now being found in shopping carts, and hotel sheets, and swimming pools, and park swings. What an outrage! What an uproar!
The world is trying to wreck parents. Or is it the world? Let's not forget who hates parents, especially good parents, more than anyone. The evil one. So what is the ploy? Let's freak parents out so bad that they are on medication, can't function, can't raise their kids, and see what happens! I really don't think it's about money, or fear of poisoning our kids. I really don't.
God gave us the Holy Spirit. He protects us. I believe that NO MATTER what I choose for or against for my children, it will be blessed by God because I did MY BEST. Or perhaps it would be even better to get the whole planet of parents on meds, and then maybe take that away too so that these same parents start doing the unthinkable - and then voila! Now we have parents being IMPRISONED! What a great plan!
The only actual cure is one of two things. We either just stop populating the earth completely. Or we start to rely on God to give us divine wisdom for our children. For me, maybe that means I use disposable diapers. For you, maybe that means cloth diapering. For others, maybe that means toilet training your infant. Does it matter? Not really, as long as you are following the pull on your heart put there by Christ.
But guess what, this same person who thinks I should invest in organic, natural diapers also thinks I should give up my belief in God. Ha.
"My child, listen when your father corrects you. Don’t neglect your mother’s instruction. What you learn from them will crown you with grace and be a chain of honor around your neck.
My child, if sinners entice you, turn your back on them! They may say, “Come and join us. Let’s hide and kill someone! Just for fun, let’s ambush the innocent! Let’s swallow them alive, like the grave; let’s swallow them whole, like those who go down to the pit of death. Think of the great things we’ll get! We’ll fill our houses with all the stuff we take. Come, throw in your lot with us; we’ll all share the loot.”
My child, don’t go along with them! Stay far away from their paths. They rush to commit evil deeds. They hurry to commit murder. If a bird sees a trap being set, it knows to stay away. But these people set an ambush for themselves; they are trying to get themselves killed. Such is the fate of all who are greedy for money; it robs them of life.
Wisdom shouts in the streets. She cries out in the public square. She calls to the crowds along the main street, to those gathered in front of the city gate: “How long, you simpletons, will you insist on being simpleminded? How long will you mockers relish your mocking? How long will you fools hate knowledge? Come and listen to my counsel. I’ll share my heart with you and make you wise.
“I called you so often, but you wouldn’t come. I reached out to you, but you paid no attention. You ignored my advice and rejected the correction I offered. So I will laugh when you are in trouble! I will mock you when disaster overtakes you—when calamity overtakes you like a storm, when disaster engulfs you like a cyclone, and anguish and distress overwhelm you.
“When they cry for help, I will not answer. Though they anxiously search for me, they will not find me. For they hated knowledge and chose not to fear the Lord. They rejected my advice and paid no attention when I corrected them. Therefore, they must eat the bitter fruit of living their own way, choking on their own schemes. For simpletons turn away from me—to death. Fools are destroyed by their own complacency. But all who listen to me will live in peace, untroubled by fear of harm.” Proverbs 1:8-33
Someone posted something on my Facebook status yesterday about disposable diapers being toxic. If you hadn't already heard this in the news, I'm sorry for now causing you undo stress as you calculate how many disposable diapers you, and your child(ren) have worn over the years, and how many percentage points each one will add to your chance (or their chance) of getting cancer. My guess is this: if you or your child get any type of illness, allergy, disease, cancer or otherwise sometime in your life, you will not blame the diapers your mom put you in, or the diapers that you put on your child. This is just a guess.
The conspiracy theory that goes along with toxic diapers (and there are actually toxins in diapers, I am not denying that fact), is that the chemical companies, and diaper companies don't care that we are poisoning our children as long as they are making money. Do you think that every single person that runs diaper companies and chemical companies cloth diapers their children? Do you think that they buy some other brand that is organic and natural at a higher price? Just take a guess.
Parents are so bombarded with theories, studies, facts, lies, media influences, marketing schemes, we don't even know how to HAVE a baby anymore! The next generation of mothers will probably assume that there are products, devices, and important pills they need to take to even conceive. How in the world did anyone ever actually manage to get pregnant prior to these "necessary" items?! It's so hard to fathom. But again, this is a just a guess.
So as parents we sift through all this info. We stress out. We lose sleep. We get anxious. We fall into depression. And then our beautiful baby gets a cold. Now we BOTH can't sleep. But what do the drug companies conveniently do? They take infant cold meds off the shelf. Why? Who overdosed their child? Did you? Did I? Did anyone you know overdose their baby? Why is that little convenience now gone? It never was because it was cancer-causing - like diapers. Weird. Well, maybe it's because taking it off the market makes parents even more broken, tired and depressed. Guess what?! Now the major market is not cold medication, but SLEEP AIDES, ANTI-DEPRESSANTS and ANTI-ANXIETY meds! What a much better world to live in, when parents everywhere are on meds to keep going. All this so that we don't put our children into toxic diapers... hmmmmmmmm...
What else have parents been attacked with? Poison baby bottles - we switched, because everytime I used the "bad bottles" I was beginning to worry. Poison infant formula cans. Poison baby food made in jars. Poison blankets, pajamas, creams, soaps, NATURAL soaps containing lavender and tea tree oil... this list is endless! ENDLESS!
If everyone started using cloth diapers, let's just say - can you guess what the new "issue" would be? It would be that too much feces is now being leached into the sewers, rivers and oceans. Exactly. It would only take a few years of all the extra poop and urine being washed among our regular laundry for "them" to start complaining that there are now toxins from feces in the water, and in our clothing. Traces of feces now being found in shopping carts, and hotel sheets, and swimming pools, and park swings. What an outrage! What an uproar!
The world is trying to wreck parents. Or is it the world? Let's not forget who hates parents, especially good parents, more than anyone. The evil one. So what is the ploy? Let's freak parents out so bad that they are on medication, can't function, can't raise their kids, and see what happens! I really don't think it's about money, or fear of poisoning our kids. I really don't.
God gave us the Holy Spirit. He protects us. I believe that NO MATTER what I choose for or against for my children, it will be blessed by God because I did MY BEST. Or perhaps it would be even better to get the whole planet of parents on meds, and then maybe take that away too so that these same parents start doing the unthinkable - and then voila! Now we have parents being IMPRISONED! What a great plan!
The only actual cure is one of two things. We either just stop populating the earth completely. Or we start to rely on God to give us divine wisdom for our children. For me, maybe that means I use disposable diapers. For you, maybe that means cloth diapering. For others, maybe that means toilet training your infant. Does it matter? Not really, as long as you are following the pull on your heart put there by Christ.
But guess what, this same person who thinks I should invest in organic, natural diapers also thinks I should give up my belief in God. Ha.
"My child, listen when your father corrects you. Don’t neglect your mother’s instruction. What you learn from them will crown you with grace and be a chain of honor around your neck.
My child, if sinners entice you, turn your back on them! They may say, “Come and join us. Let’s hide and kill someone! Just for fun, let’s ambush the innocent! Let’s swallow them alive, like the grave; let’s swallow them whole, like those who go down to the pit of death. Think of the great things we’ll get! We’ll fill our houses with all the stuff we take. Come, throw in your lot with us; we’ll all share the loot.”
My child, don’t go along with them! Stay far away from their paths. They rush to commit evil deeds. They hurry to commit murder. If a bird sees a trap being set, it knows to stay away. But these people set an ambush for themselves; they are trying to get themselves killed. Such is the fate of all who are greedy for money; it robs them of life.
Wisdom shouts in the streets. She cries out in the public square. She calls to the crowds along the main street, to those gathered in front of the city gate: “How long, you simpletons, will you insist on being simpleminded? How long will you mockers relish your mocking? How long will you fools hate knowledge? Come and listen to my counsel. I’ll share my heart with you and make you wise.
“I called you so often, but you wouldn’t come. I reached out to you, but you paid no attention. You ignored my advice and rejected the correction I offered. So I will laugh when you are in trouble! I will mock you when disaster overtakes you—when calamity overtakes you like a storm, when disaster engulfs you like a cyclone, and anguish and distress overwhelm you.
“When they cry for help, I will not answer. Though they anxiously search for me, they will not find me. For they hated knowledge and chose not to fear the Lord. They rejected my advice and paid no attention when I corrected them. Therefore, they must eat the bitter fruit of living their own way, choking on their own schemes. For simpletons turn away from me—to death. Fools are destroyed by their own complacency. But all who listen to me will live in peace, untroubled by fear of harm.” Proverbs 1:8-33
Tuesday, April 24
Amen
"Our greatest fear should not be of failure, but of succeeding at things in life that really don't matter". Francis Chan
Can I get an "amen"?! Amen. Amen! So further to what I've been blogging about lately, I stumble upon this quote on Facebook today. Really, this kind of encompasses all I've been rattling on about here in one single sentence! I LOVE it. If this quote had it's own "like" button, I'd click it.
I am SO wrapped up in worrying about failing as a mom. I worry that I'll fail my kids by not giving them enough experiences... like sports, vacations, dance classes, and hour upon hour of endless driving in the car to get to some random destination. I worry that I'll fail them with their diet because I don't cook everything from scratch... like KD as a regular side dish, Lipton Sidekicks, Bisquick, and Cool Whip, just to name a few. I worry that I'll fail them when I react poorly to situations in life... like scraping their knee, getting dirty, and telling me that they aren't sure if they want to love Jesus or Satan (that actually happened, but was quickly taken back). I worry that I'll fail them in showing them how to follow Christ. That I'll fail them when they are teens and I'll need to be strong, wise, firm, and show unconditional love. I am like the Queen of Worrying about Failure.
However, I love the idea of rather fearing that I'd succeed in things that don't matter. Basically like all of the above. So what if I succeed at always cooking every single meal from scratch? What would be sacrificed to attain that goal would be less time spent with my kids, and mental illness on top of that. Actually, that would pretty much be the sacrifice for all of those things mentioned above. What DO I want to succeed at that MATTERS?
Well, ya, I want to succeed as a mother - but ahead of that. I want to succeed as a lover of Jesus. Throw my life into Him, and succeed in His eyes. If I do THAT every single day, I will succeed in all other areas of my life without question.
This quote might just be the next thing I'll be putting up on a wall in my house. I need to read this daily.
Can I get an "amen"?! Amen. Amen! So further to what I've been blogging about lately, I stumble upon this quote on Facebook today. Really, this kind of encompasses all I've been rattling on about here in one single sentence! I LOVE it. If this quote had it's own "like" button, I'd click it.
I am SO wrapped up in worrying about failing as a mom. I worry that I'll fail my kids by not giving them enough experiences... like sports, vacations, dance classes, and hour upon hour of endless driving in the car to get to some random destination. I worry that I'll fail them with their diet because I don't cook everything from scratch... like KD as a regular side dish, Lipton Sidekicks, Bisquick, and Cool Whip, just to name a few. I worry that I'll fail them when I react poorly to situations in life... like scraping their knee, getting dirty, and telling me that they aren't sure if they want to love Jesus or Satan (that actually happened, but was quickly taken back). I worry that I'll fail them in showing them how to follow Christ. That I'll fail them when they are teens and I'll need to be strong, wise, firm, and show unconditional love. I am like the Queen of Worrying about Failure.
However, I love the idea of rather fearing that I'd succeed in things that don't matter. Basically like all of the above. So what if I succeed at always cooking every single meal from scratch? What would be sacrificed to attain that goal would be less time spent with my kids, and mental illness on top of that. Actually, that would pretty much be the sacrifice for all of those things mentioned above. What DO I want to succeed at that MATTERS?
Well, ya, I want to succeed as a mother - but ahead of that. I want to succeed as a lover of Jesus. Throw my life into Him, and succeed in His eyes. If I do THAT every single day, I will succeed in all other areas of my life without question.
This quote might just be the next thing I'll be putting up on a wall in my house. I need to read this daily.
Monday, April 16
It's Not a Breeze on the Narrow Road
Admittedly I have had a fairly long stretch of things going quite smoothly in life. As a believer in Jesus it should really come as no surprise that I suddenly feel anything but that things are going smoothly. These times of "suffering" are part of our life as Christians, but it's often what non-believers view as our weakness."If you'd just let loose and be free from the bondage of religion, you'd be happy".
And you know what, I bet they are right.
I would be happy - on earth. I would do what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it, and be accountable to nothing and no one. Not that as a non-believer a person lives a life of debauchery and disregard the law. That's not what I'm saying at all. There are a lot of people who don't believe in God who are great people. However, the only thing they are living for is the present. What I am living for is for the life I will have after this one.
The Bible never says that life on earth will be a cake walk. It says 100% opposite of that. Life on earth will be tough. Why? Because for one, this is not the home we were meant to live in forever. Here there are hurts, pains, sadness, sorrows, and above all, sin. We were built to live in a place like the garden of Eden. A place of perfect life. When life feels hard, painful, sad and difficult, it's because our bodies, minds and souls are longing for the permanent home of Heaven.
And it's tough living here on earth because as Christians we can and will be attacked by Satan. Why would he spend much time attacking those who already don't believe, or believe in something that isn't true? He won't. He will only try to win the souls of those who matter... the Christians. So we can expect trials and tribulations, and pain, sorrow, sadness, and all these things to come at us a lot stronger and moreso than others. I totally believe that. And that's why we are slowly seeing the decay of man's acceptance of Christianity in the world. In time, we will no longer be able to have the freedom we have now. Day after day I already see how people want us to keep quiet, keep our thoughts and beliefs to ourselves, and accept their ideas. I even have people posting things to me on Facebook - Scientists trying to disprove the theory of Creation, and "funny" little anecdotes about how Atheists have all the fun.
So I just had a nice long little break - guess Satan was busy elsewhere. I got content, and got into a groove that was working nicely for me and my family. I was feeling good about myself, and even survived a bit of a blow from someone who wanted to take me down a few notches. And now I've been attacked, pushed around, and I'm upset. I'm trying to "count it all joy", look at my blessings, and work my way out of this battle. But it's just that - a battle. It's not easy, and that "Easy Button" ad campaign gets me a little annoyed. I mean, where is that button when I need it? Why wasn't I assigned one upon accepting Christ as my Saviour?
The truth is that when I accepted Jesus, I wasn't accepting an easy-out route. It wasn't saying, "Yay! Now I get to travel in style on the wide open road!". No, accepting Jesus is accepting a hard life. A life on the long and narrow road. A road less travelled. But where that road leads to is where I desire to be.
Thursday, April 12
It's Been Awhile
I know it's been a while since I blogged. It probably will be a long time until I blog again! But I had some things on my mind, and in my heart today - and I needed a place to put them down.
I've been so challenged over the last number of months to tone down my life. I've probably felt this way for years, and it all started with me logging off of Blogger. At the time it was about survival. I had two kids, and hormones were causing my anxiety to sky-rocket. I was a mess. Along came Facebook, and I felt like I could now be a little more in touch with the world again - and yet not need to put aside hours of my day for blogging about every little cute nose twitch, or funny saying, or potty trained kid, or five word sentences. Facebook covered all that in, like, fifteen minutes of my day!
But I still feel anxious, discouraged, depressed, unworthy, ugly, and lazy. Skip forward to yesterday afternoon. Someone posted the following article as a link on Facebook (go there now and read it): http://powerofmoms.com/2012/04/your-children-want-you/
I LOVED this article. Thanks to social media, TV, and various other things, we as moms today are bombarded by opinions, ideas, and abilities to compare ourselves to. This is so unfair! What happened to the days of learning from our own mothers? Do you love your mom, and how she raised you? Maybe not. But I know one thing, my mom didn't keep tabs on her friends via Facebook, or get ideas from Pinterest, or search the web for ideas on "chicken". She just did her best with what she had, and what she knew. I don't want to get caught up in the comparing game - it only brings me down. I need to focus on doing things the way they work for ME and MY family.
For us that means that we will eat a lot of pasta. Yup, carbs. (insert fear-filled screams) Can you imagine what might happen to my kids if they eat pasta regularly? Or that they have real sugar sprinkled onto their cereal in the mornings? Or that I let them drink juice... UNDILUTED sometimes? I know. I should be stressed. But get this, there's more! I don't monitor the number of hours they watch TV. Some days it's zero, somedays its... lots. I don't run marathons, exercise (on purpose) every day, watch every single thing that I eat, or watch Dr. Oz. We have bad habits, and we're working on them. I've banned myself from a scale. I don't really care what number or letter appears on my clothes, as long as they fit and look nice on me. Some days I don't shower. James forgets to brush his teeth sometimes, and I only notice two days later. I gave my babies medication, in a proper dosage, when they had colds. I let Rayya sleep on her side from the day she was born. I often don't floss.
My to-do list for the day is going to come from God. He will let me know what I need to do, and how to do it, and I will have enough energy and ambition to accomplish ONLY that in my day. And right now that to-do list is this: be a mommy, be a wife, be a friend. That's it. It doesn't say: be a waitress, a cook, a cleaning lady, a saint, a missionary, a lawn care maintenance person, a model, a military sargeant, a plumber, a TV critic, a Kindergarten teacher, a craft maven, a seamstress, a doctor and a punching bag. All those things that are sometimes my self-appointed roles are not necessary. My kids just want me. That doesn't mean I'm on the floor playing Disney Cars and super heros all day. But I CAN, if I WANT to, even if that means I don't sweep up the crumbs from lunch under the table first. My kids will remember me, and not a ring around the tub. They will remember me, and not what I made them for lunch, but how I chatted with them while I made it. They will remember me, and not how much I exercised, but that I played tag with them. They will remember me, and not the dust bunnies that collected under the couch.
What IS important? What is my GOD-GIVEN to-do list? His yolk is easy, His burden is light. He will not give me so much to do that I can't do it. Now I just have to turn off, or tune out of all the other influences that make me think I have to be more. That I need to be cooking organic vegetables, doing yoga, fitting into a size 6, wearing jewellery even though I'm at home, and creating paper-maché forts for my kids. What I love about God's to-do list is that it doesn't say any of that. It just says, "be you".
I've been so challenged over the last number of months to tone down my life. I've probably felt this way for years, and it all started with me logging off of Blogger. At the time it was about survival. I had two kids, and hormones were causing my anxiety to sky-rocket. I was a mess. Along came Facebook, and I felt like I could now be a little more in touch with the world again - and yet not need to put aside hours of my day for blogging about every little cute nose twitch, or funny saying, or potty trained kid, or five word sentences. Facebook covered all that in, like, fifteen minutes of my day!
But I still feel anxious, discouraged, depressed, unworthy, ugly, and lazy. Skip forward to yesterday afternoon. Someone posted the following article as a link on Facebook (go there now and read it): http://powerofmoms.com/2012/04/your-children-want-you/
I LOVED this article. Thanks to social media, TV, and various other things, we as moms today are bombarded by opinions, ideas, and abilities to compare ourselves to. This is so unfair! What happened to the days of learning from our own mothers? Do you love your mom, and how she raised you? Maybe not. But I know one thing, my mom didn't keep tabs on her friends via Facebook, or get ideas from Pinterest, or search the web for ideas on "chicken". She just did her best with what she had, and what she knew. I don't want to get caught up in the comparing game - it only brings me down. I need to focus on doing things the way they work for ME and MY family.
For us that means that we will eat a lot of pasta. Yup, carbs. (insert fear-filled screams) Can you imagine what might happen to my kids if they eat pasta regularly? Or that they have real sugar sprinkled onto their cereal in the mornings? Or that I let them drink juice... UNDILUTED sometimes? I know. I should be stressed. But get this, there's more! I don't monitor the number of hours they watch TV. Some days it's zero, somedays its... lots. I don't run marathons, exercise (on purpose) every day, watch every single thing that I eat, or watch Dr. Oz. We have bad habits, and we're working on them. I've banned myself from a scale. I don't really care what number or letter appears on my clothes, as long as they fit and look nice on me. Some days I don't shower. James forgets to brush his teeth sometimes, and I only notice two days later. I gave my babies medication, in a proper dosage, when they had colds. I let Rayya sleep on her side from the day she was born. I often don't floss.
My to-do list for the day is going to come from God. He will let me know what I need to do, and how to do it, and I will have enough energy and ambition to accomplish ONLY that in my day. And right now that to-do list is this: be a mommy, be a wife, be a friend. That's it. It doesn't say: be a waitress, a cook, a cleaning lady, a saint, a missionary, a lawn care maintenance person, a model, a military sargeant, a plumber, a TV critic, a Kindergarten teacher, a craft maven, a seamstress, a doctor and a punching bag. All those things that are sometimes my self-appointed roles are not necessary. My kids just want me. That doesn't mean I'm on the floor playing Disney Cars and super heros all day. But I CAN, if I WANT to, even if that means I don't sweep up the crumbs from lunch under the table first. My kids will remember me, and not a ring around the tub. They will remember me, and not what I made them for lunch, but how I chatted with them while I made it. They will remember me, and not how much I exercised, but that I played tag with them. They will remember me, and not the dust bunnies that collected under the couch.
What IS important? What is my GOD-GIVEN to-do list? His yolk is easy, His burden is light. He will not give me so much to do that I can't do it. Now I just have to turn off, or tune out of all the other influences that make me think I have to be more. That I need to be cooking organic vegetables, doing yoga, fitting into a size 6, wearing jewellery even though I'm at home, and creating paper-maché forts for my kids. What I love about God's to-do list is that it doesn't say any of that. It just says, "be you".
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