digging

I have been digging. Last night. Today. Romans. Esther today. Back to my study. God is immeasurably gracious. I am finding that sooner or later I am going to have to let go. He's got it. I remember a long time ago a friend saying to me that maybe God was showing me my heart. I thought she was wrong. She could take that back. I was good. I was striving for all things good. I don't know if she was right or not but I remember her saying it. It is good to take a look at yourself. I wish we could all have our own hidden video camera experiences. I want to see how I am and be shocked into changing...or even realize things that are of good worth that I do. But mostly the bad. I want to be self aware. I think I am that but I would like to see things as they are and not as they only seem to me. How I say things and how I react. It is so hard to control the way we want to appear. The way we want to be. I think that striving for the things that are loving and admirable will take us there. I am lacking in good fruit. It is so hard to decipher why. I have been having major anxiety attacks lately and have been increasingly tired. I want to replace my thoughts with better ones and my words with words like breathe......truth....simplify.....,deep breath.....I feel better already. May God grant me peace and to you too.

I can't breathe.

When the people who are suppose to be your greatest support are your greatest sadness instead, it really sucks. It makes you want to go home.
When they don't understand what they are doing to you. Or just don't understand you. When they curse you. When you see a way out and they smash you down so you can't walk towards it. When they drag everyone else with them and leave you there to die. And you can't speak. And so they don't know. Cause they don't want to know.
It is still getting better right? Please God, do something, but I can't handle anything, so I am stuck again. I am not going to make it. I trust you LORD. Do something like you have before. Let me not want to die.

just in time

I was praying for...dun dun dun...patience last night. It is the one thing that I am really struggling with. I am exhausted and need just a spare minute to myself but there are no spare minutes. They are all full, and I get impatient. I don't want it to affect my children. I just want them to be free of anxiety. Aiden chews on his shirt sometimes. I hate it. It scares me that he is "catching" my anxiety. That is the point that you want to send yourself away. Sad thought, but not a lingering one.
This morning in our mom's group where we are studying the book of Esther we were left with the concept of the week...balancing passion verses patience. God knows what he is doing let me tell you. I hope this is the time I get to deal with it and start to change this impatience. I hate that it controls when I am tired. I want to start watching my words. I need to. I need an overhaul.
I need to be free from fear, from anxiety, from impatience.

backsteps and cleaning the bathroom

I just finished cleaning the bathroom. I don't mind cleaning but I hate cleaning the bathroom. It's not just the grossness- it's the cleaners. Because I had lost a child and in an attempt to not lose another one I became over cautious. When I was pregnant with my second son, I wouldn't eat anything that I could not feed a baby....no pop...no junk food....I ate lots of cucumbers and kiwis. I also stopped doing things like using nail polish remover...creams with Vitamin A....certain face washes...no hair dying....and no harsh bathroom cleaners. I didn't want to be the cause of harm. To this day I feel the same...at least about cleaners...and preservatives....and school...and.....if I could only live in an Amish community, I might be happy. Fresh food and hard work. Simple.
But this wasn't the topic of the evening. I don't really have anything to blog about....except backsteps maybe. I hate backsteps. They make you feel like an idiot. Like you have been there, done that, and now you are just complaining. Squeezing every ounce of hurt out of something. Nothing happened, at least know to my knowledge, and a simple dream messed up my whole day. Well, maybe not simple and I know it points to bigger issues but I choose not to think about those. I need to go let the bleach clear out of my nostrils. G'night.

cloudy dreams

I had an awesome day yesterday so it was bound to be a crappy, cloudy day today of course. The day isn't even half over. Why can't I just have a streak of good days. I feel like crying. I feel like someone is in town that I don't want to see. I want to go seek out if I'm right. Bring out this horrible feeling....
It all started with a dream. I am a dreamer. I have different kinds of dreams- the kind that have meaning, the kind that are processing, and the kind that are random parts of my day all mixed together. I love to dream. I find it fascinating. This morning I woke up to a not so good one. One of a disturbing nature. These kind mess with my head. Two old boyfriends were in this dream. No Garry. I was in a weird space. With one for a few minutes and then the dream changed and I was provoking the other one. And I was in trouble. Doesn't matter what the weird dream was about. It was the rollercoaster of emotion and then waking up to confusion. Where am I and who is my husband. I am partly joking but I hate these dreams that play with my emotions. I used to have a dream about a different old boyfriend and know he was in town or on his way. Why is it that I always knew. A connection in spirit....a pre-warning from God...I dunno. Anyways, it is frustrating. It makes me want to start a fight. To draw out emotions long past dealt with or that need to not be dealt with cause it is too late. I hate the too late part of it. I wish you could go back and say...I know you are married and we are in different stages of life but there is this one thing that I am dealing with and need to know the truth about, and/or apologize for in part, if you could just rewind for a second.....It doesn't work though and is dangerous. I tried it once. The outcome was bad....
I cried it out in the shower and now I am trudging through the day. Many things are bothering me. I am seeking to make some new dreams for myself though. I have been pondering this for awhile. A house on a piece of land....with enough room to add a few more houses when my kids are older. Maybe they'll stay close to home. Maybe I'll get a huge family.
Ugh. I just had a flashback to a dream I had awhile ago....an apology...hmmm...what a weird day. I am stuck in dreamland.....I have to be honest that I don't mind......I'd like to go for a walk out in the falling snow and breathe in the crisp air and let my mind wander. Of course I can't right now.... life is calling.

stockings and other crafty things

I had a rather good day. I have put my mind on hold because my babe has been sick. I am so glad that I can do this or I would break down. I can't handle sickness most of all- especially fevers. Yesterday I got him some antibiotics. So now I am in this "for now" mindspace. No processing allowed.
I went to Aiden's preschool Christmas party with the kids this morning. It was great. It allowed me to feed all the kids at once and without preparing anything. Great. Juice boxes included.
After that I got my brother and sister in law's baby/ Christmas present mailed off. Relief. Nice.
Then I went home and put the sick kid and the just a runny nose girl to bed. I immediately went downstairs to do some sewing. I got tons done. I was amazed. Both kids slept long and were still sleeping when I finished as much as I had wanted to get done. Crazy. Oh, and boy number one was downstairs with me playing on the computer.
After that we went upstairs and I actually fell asleep on the couch for a minute or two while we watched cartoons....or rather Aiden watched cartoons- other kids still sleeping! Ah.
Keiran woke up and I went to check on Gem who said, "pooping now"...I ran her to the bathroom and left her there. I am not really potting training as I am too tired all the time and it is exhausting in itself, but she is going randomly. If I can get her to poop consistently on the potty I will go full force. And she did today. Success.
After snacks and diaper changes I thought about running to the store or getting a pizza for dinner and realized that I had money left in my wallet. I didn't even have to leave the house. Smile. I never have money in my wallet. Pizza ordered. No cooking or stressing over dinner. Hee hee.
After the kids were in bed I willed myself to go downstairs again and finish some stockings which I wanted to be homemade. It was fun and fast. Another check off the list.....although I realized that I forgot about myself and Garry. Which means I have to go back to Katja's fabric shop. Darn (add sarcastic wink here). Sigh. And there is my night. Checkmate.

Tonight I am going to sit on my bed and pray for my friend. I feel vomit coming on.....poisonous, powerful, throwing up. I am sobbing enough that I can't see. I can't believe the lies she is being told. No wait, I can. I know them. I believed them too. I prayed the prayer of "God let me not want to die". I am scared for her. If she can just get to tomorrow she will be alright I think.
I will pray over her. Now even....what am I waiting for.
God, I pray for K. I pray that she will feel your presence overwhelming. I pray that she can be angry....sobbing.....falling apart and letting go...anything but feeling stuck, feeling like wanting to die. I pray for strength enough to go through what she has to go through. I pray for hope in turn with sorrow. I pray that she will know the truth that "suffering brings perseverance, perseverance character, and character, hope" And hope does not disappoint....hope does not abandon.....hope does not forget.....hope does not leave you in the rain to get cold, and to pretend there aren't tears, and to numb body parts.....hope believes all things.... Let her fathom the depths of her healing and give her a glimpse of the end. Give her a glimpse of the beginning...of ministering to a land where abandonment and abuse is prevalent....where she will know and understand and help others overcome... And then Lord, bring her back to you. To her. And let her let go. Let her be not okay. So that she can be okay. And cover her with support and shock her with people that will hold on to her for dear life.
Ugh. I have more prayers but I am going to my bed....soon.

Rejoice Emmanuel has come

I loved Christmas when I was a kid. We had big family Christmases. Christmas Eve at my paternal grandparents house with all the aunts and uncles and cousins, and Christmas day at my maternal grandparents house with all the other aunts and uncles and cousins. We had soooooo much fun. Everyone brought their baggage- drinking, smoking, hoarding, abandonment, adultery, etc. but other than waiting for the table to be de-hoarded and getting a tummy ache in the meantime, I remember the fun. I remember the anticipation, the laughter, the gift giving (of course). I remember my grandmas little hide-away dishes for candy and nuts. I remember trekking up the toboggan hill out back of the bible camp next door and having a hoot as we flew down the fresh snow. I remember giggling as we held hands and my grandpa prayed, "Dear Heavenly Father, we now return thanks for our many blessings...."
After we moved Christmases weren't as full. When I got older they were empty. When I had kids the joy returned. One thing I didn't do though was Santa. I attempted to get a book describing the real Santa Claus for a fun story but I told my kids he is just pretend. I don't like the idea of the lie and the stranger but most of all I don't like that it gives kids a sense of entitlement. I want my kids to have joy in the fact that they can bless others with their giving. That they can think of the person they will give a gift and take care in what they want to say through their gift. I am thankful. I love you. I want you to be happy. And some thoughts for more older years....
I have seen the brochures for World Vision and I would find joy to buy someone a goat or a chicken in a world where they have hunger but all that seems far away. I still want to have something under the tree as well. I would be deeply disappointed if there wasn't a thoughtful gift there for me but I want it all to mean something. I don't need something. I want to bless and be blessed.....and of course watch my kids eyes light up with excitement.
Last year we had nothing and we were blessed by others. It spoke volumes to me and my husband. This year we can give. And that makes my eyes light up. Not because I am a saint but because I am passing it on, not just to others, but to my kids. Merry Christmas. Remember they will know you by your love. Just as we know Christ by his.

quiet

I can't stop talking. I can't stop trying to help. I can't stop analysing. I can't stop processing. I can't stop second guessing. I am exhausted.
I fell asleep by accident this morning. I was going to wake up Garry and see if we were going to go Christmas shopping. We haven't done any yet. I fell asleep instead.
When I was younger. All my life. Until I was twenty....or somewhere around there. I didn't talk much. I was quiet. I held back. I watched everyone. I was the one unmemorable one (or that's how I see it). I knew so much about so many because I watched. Only in safe places did I talk.
Now I can't stop talking. It's like I have to make up for the last thirty years and get it all out. All the details. Expose the accidental lies and find all the truth...and the truths that lie within those lessons. I try to stop. Try to leave it alone for awhile. Maybe I don't want to go back there. But again, I need balance. I don't want to accidentally say to much or interfere. I don't want to make things about me. Push my healing out into the open and run over everyone in the way. I want to clasp hands with the ones who are on the same path of healing and walk strengthened and quiet. My mind and my soul just need some quiet.

I am rubbing my forehead.

I am on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Not a real one. This is what I dramatically call this feeling. I don't like it. And sometimes I love it. Cause at least it is feeling....but usually I hate it. I hate the thoughts that come when you are alone in a huge group of people. Like sitting in a church Christmas service. This is where I was. I can feel my issues coming up. I can feel them from the person I am sitting beside. I can feel them when we are eating cookies and drinking coffee and I see peoples eyes. Eyes can't lie. Eyes say things that the soul is feeling. Could you see my eyes. Happy to be out, but sadness trying to push that away and overwhelm. I feel really sick. All that just from some eyes. From the memories behind them. I still enjoy myself and push those thoughts away. Ignore what can't be changed now.
And when I go home and the small high is over. I get low. I feel like I should just stay home cause I am exhausted. Why is that.
And why do memories bother me. Even the good ones. Even to the point of not having pictures of people up on the wall unless I see them often. I don't like missing people. And when I remember good things it is always tainted. With the bad things. I focus on the bad things. I have to get on to writing that good timeline. My timeline holds bad memories. When I look I see more. I want to focus on the good things. I really do. Am I a realist....or a pessimist. Or am I trying to protect myself from thinking life is going great so that I am not blindsided when it is not how it seems.
Maybe I am just tired today. Tomorrow I'll be okay again. I hope.

not feeling stupid

I took the control away. I felt no fear. I was over it. I was open. I went back, so that I could move forward. I had a revelational thoughts.....that everything I went through in the second part of my life, were mirror images of the things that happened the first half, the things I couldn't speak about or didn't understand.
I have lived by the motto that suffering brings perseverance, perseverance character, and character hope. I was thankful for the lesson and knew without a doubt that God could use unfortunate circumstances for good use. I now have the thought that God even 'lets' things bad happen, not just uses those things. I have felt that I was forced, or at least had no control over situations. Where no matter how much I tried to leave, I was still back in the same place. That place being Fort St.John. I think God put me there and said- no you have to go through this time. Yes, I made bad choices but those were incremental in forcing me to come out of myself. Not all my time in Fort St.John, being ten years on and off, was bad but it was a place I never felt settled. Never felt connected in full. I was just there for a time.
And no one can tell me that God won't let bad things happen for good purpose. I have read about Tamar, Hadassah, or even Job....or the man that God told to marry a prostitute and no matter how she left, bring her back home...who was that again? Anyways...I don't think that those were unfortunate situations but bad fortunate situations (if you catch my drift).
Last night I even talked to a friend about three circumstances that I am pondering right now. I didn't even feel dumb when she left. Usually I have regret about sharing too much of myself but it was different. I was taking the secret power of fear away. And she understood. Of course. There is no such thing as coincidence.

Creative and inspiring photography from my friend Char.

there's a nut.

I have an anxiety attack at about four o'clock everyday. I could tell time by it. I am serious. I feel it and think...it must be four. I wonder why that is. Maybe my brain is messed and the part of the day where I used to get that tired spell before my second wind, I now get worse. I wonder if it is the time that my miscarriage ended. Maybe my body has noted that it wasn't a good hour. Maybe it is that nap time is over and I have to make dinner and everything is caving in. I don't know but no matter the circumstance it happens. So today, I took tea to the Christmas play rehearsal and sat on the couch and was late and got through it. Rather quickly I might add. I came home to have another one after dinner and before bath time anyways. Maybe it is when I sit down for a minute...
In the midst of pulling it together, the man of the family that I took some baking to, called. My son was in the bath, and my other son, overtired and teething, was crying but it was okay. I was glad that he called to let me know he got the box and card set inside the doorway. I was even more happy to hear how, or at least what, he and the girls were doing. I didn't need a thanks. I just wanted to know he was encouraged. To know they were making it. It is a fine line between encouragement and that negative attention that comes with death. Or at least that what it feels like to me. After ten or twenty "I am so sorries" that comes with a horrible "I pity you and don't know what to do about it" look, you can want to hide in a dark corner and never come out. My heart is full and I am glad that I reached past the fear and did something about that nudging in my soul. This is the stuff that makes a difference in my life. I have been waiting for kids to grow, and things to change in order to live life. I was on hold. It was with good intention...knowing that this time will pass and things will be different on the other side, but it wasn't good. It is not a good idea to just sit and wait for life to resume when reality is that you are living it right now. That hasn't given my life meaning. It has just made me think, "how did I get here, and when did I have three children." I want to teach and nurture my kids. That is my purpose but also I need to have purpose within myself. I need to realize new dreams and hope on those. I have my family and my good man. My first set of dreams. It didn't turn out like I planned but it happened just the same. Time to think on new things.What is next for me in life....I can't wait to find out.

In a nutshell.

I woke up this morning the middle of a not so pleasant dream. In the dream my daughter was not cooperating and amidst a diaper change had gotten poop on a wall. She must have been yelling at me in real life. My husband had heard her as I was stuck in my dream. She had peed through her diaper onto her sheets and as I could smell, number two was present also. They had come to me for the changing part. I told my husband how funny it was that I had been dreaming about this. Gemma said, "Oh, mommy bad dream." This launched Garry and I into almost uncontrollable laughter. I changed Gem and got back into bed for awhile. My chest cold was bothering me and I was not willing to start the day yet.
When I got up again. I went downstairs to get some kids clothes from the dryer and heard screaming and crying and the usual. It is hard to tell when you are not there whether or not it is dramatic crying on the girls part or actual beating up from the boys end. A little discipline and hugs...move on. I got the kids dressed and fed them their breakfast, then attempted to get myself ready. Monday is our mom's group and today was followed by a joint birthday party so I had a lot to get ready. First I had to go to the bathroom before I peed my pants.... it seems whenever I am indisposed chaos arises. I could hear slamming against the wall and screaming and crying. Ugh. Deal, and back to the bathroom to brush my teeth. More screaming and crying.....you have got to be kidding me. (Sometimes it takes me two hours just to have a shower with all the running back and forth...I usually let one kid nap, one watch cartoons, and the instigator, I put downstairs on the computer and let him play Treehouse kids games.) So, I left the bathroom again. Here is the point I lose it. Gemma has complained that she has been hit in the head twice now and is half the size of her two years older brother. I will not stand for this behavior. He thinks it's funny and runs back and forth behind the couch. In an effort to not make this a game of tag, I start to raise my voice. Not working. "But I don't want to go to my room mom" We have two rules in our house: One being no disobeying mom and dad, aka listen, and two being that we are not mean to our brothers and sisters. He has violated both. I hate this part of parenting. He is banished to his room until my shower is done. Meanwhile the baby starts to cry and falls asleep outside the bathroom door while I shower. This is not usual but I needed him to sleep while at playgroup. Needless to say...I was late, which I hate.
At mom's group we are studying the book of Esther. I love it. Beth Moore has an amazing way of speaking. I am getting something out of every word. And I mean every literally- not the usual, a little from the study, a little from the discussion- every word. This has come at the perfect time of life. I am encouraged and reminded that life is going somewhere. After the birthday I struggle to get the kids bundled and to the van but  it is a little price to pay to get out and get some mom time.
When we get to the van I remember that I have a package to drop off for our friends. I have been thinking about them so often and praying when I do. I can't imagine how hard it is for them right now. Aiden and I have been baking this last month and putting away a little at a time in a box for them. It has been time for us and teaches him to think of others. We are both enjoying it while the other two kids nap. Anyways, our box was full. They weren't home but like happens in a small town, their door was unlocked. I slipped the box in and was hit with the aroma that I knew so well. That alone almost brought on a nervous breakdown. This pleasant smell was almost overbearing last year at this time when I was pregnant and my sense of smell was sensitive. But now is distinctive and comforting. The smell of a mother. Candles and oil to keep the house uplifting. I had thought about this, I had smelled it once randomly, or maybe just remembered it, and wondered if their house would smell the same now that she is gone. I thought it wouldn't but it did. A reminded that this house is still full of Sheri. That she isn't gone but just removed. That her girls will remember all that she has taught and her family will know how much she loves them still. That they will see her again. Life is short. Eternity is unending. I had thought that there was time to reconnect but there wasn't. I can still feel her hug. I can still see her eyes...although tired the last time I talked to her. It is a reminder. All of it.
And now I am sitting, typing, napping two kids. The other one is calm....ish. I feel like I am standing near an ocean today. I am on the beach and the waves are hitting me but I am still on the ground. Usually a large, almost drowning wave rolls in at four o'clock but by then we'll be out practicing a Christmas play.....

Empty meter

I feel like I have no meter. I can't measure when I am saying too much and when I am supposed to say too much. Or when I am over worrying. I don't mind sharing things but some people do mind. I don't want to overstep. I just genuinely feel passionate when I care about someone. Sometimes it comes out in weird ways...not naturally. I don't know how to feel without it falling out of my mouth in a giant mess. I only know how to be angry when things hurt and impatient when things scare me to the point of exhaustion. I am tired of looking like an impatient cranky mom. I am not. I care so much that I can barely breathe. I kiss my kids cheeks constantly all day. I think of ways to encourage their ability to become more loving, to learn more, and to have better behavior. I just can't control my own. I hate being this mom. I want to just let go but that looks like letting go of life. It should look like being secure that God is in control but it is just preparing myself that something might happen to them. I don't even want to say that because it feels like it might make it just by saying. So I care about my kids by yelling at them and I care about my friends by sharing things that sound negative when really that is not my heart. Yuck. How do you change that? It feels like the more I try to change these things, the more I do them. I have felt at times that by letting go and just being, even if it is bad, makes the fight stop. If you don't try then you can just sit for awhile.
Even when I was in the valley of the shadow of death. I never let go of God. I just wanted to stop fighting and sit for awhile. To let life happen to me instead of clawing my way through mud. Some people may have thought I had turned my back on God but that is untruth. I just wanted to earn my pain for awhile. I was too tired to fight. I still talked to God everyday. He still knew me. I was just so sick of the pursuit of perfection. It wasn't working anymore. Maybe that is where this loose mouth comes in. I just want to spew truth and openness so that no one is hidden. Mostly myself. So no one is missed in the crowd. So that someone is standing up for reality. That isn't my job, I know. I just don't want to be in the place of waiting for someone to reach to me ever again. I want to step at least half way....sometimes more to reach out an arm. Or even kick someone if I have to. Maybe myself even. How do I do that kindly? How do I keep my feelings in check when someone doesn't respond..or worse responds negatively. I can't handle it yet. I guess that is where I am getting ahead of myself. I am getting out of bed before I am better. I am still healing. Man, it is not fast enough. I don't want to be here forever. There, that's my rant for the day. I need a drink...or a pillow...or a hug...anything....
and there's another thing. Do I look hardened. I just need a friggen hug. Maybe I am on the outside.....See I sound angry again...

Mish-mash on truth.

I am sad about losing friends. There are people in your life that mean so much and circumstance puts you on different continents. They were there for a reason. But then they fall to the side. There are those people that can endure distance and those that don't care to. I often feel guilty about this. I care about my friends and I want to stay connected. I am committed, even if far away. And I know that you can hold someone in your heart even if you are miles away. I call and then when I don't want to because I have no time and every time I get on the phone my kids get that smirk in their eyes- the smirk that says that they know you are busy and they don't like it one bit and you can't do anything about the chaos that follows. Then I want to phone but I hate phoning and then it's been forever. Why do I feel guilty. They didn't phone me. They didn't make an attempt at all. Sometimes you just have to let go. No I am not talking about you. Anyways, I am sorta mad about it tonight. I would like people to treat me with honesty, and yes sometimes I don't care to know so that I am not hurt, but please don't be fake with me. I think anyone would rather be broken up with than drug through the mud while they know in their hearts that you don't give a damn. Tell me like it is. I have many blunt friends and I like them. They'll tell you what they think. When you're an idiot. When you are being a jerk. When you are putting yourself down. They won't try to figure out what you want to hear and coddle your insecurity. I like those women, strong enough to deal with the consequences of truth spoken. There it is... the thought to ponder for the day. Ha ha. Am I a woman that can deal with the consequences of living truth out loud? Can I be honest? I think so but I need to think on that further. I hope so. Figure out my truths and then live honestly....I'll even give an example....
I lived with Garry before I was married. In fact, when I met him I didn't even want to think about marriage. I had had enough. I had decided though, that I would own my own bad decision and be committed to him rather than fool around and try and fool my family. I can deal with consequences no matter how horrible, and they were horrible. I am telling you this to say that I am no judgemental saint. Anyways....I have often heard people say that once you have lived together, slept together...that you are married in the eyes of God. This often left me thinking. Is that true. I get that thinking. We had a JP come when we actually did get married and we didn't have a wedding, we just signed the papers. Just made it legal. Common-law marriages are marriages by word definition and law so is this true. After pondering this, I found the scripture about the woman at the well. The one who was with a man that wouldn`t give her his name. Would this not be a woman in a commom-law marriage. It was still sin. Truth was still truth. She had to decide whether or not to ``go and sin no more``. I still chose the wrong choice but I took responsibility for the consequences. I was honest about it. Circumstances sucked and God knew my heart and still loved me, but the truth was still the same....and we all answer to those same truths in the end. I want to be someone who knows circumstances can alter decisions and everything isn`t drawn in the lines when it comes to life, but I still want to encourage truth. I am finally feeling like I am balancing my truths when it comes to life (not anxiety`s...those are a bit harder) and trying to live that out loud, without fear. Just honestly...just truly.

Not too shabby.

Maybe things are going to turn out so bad. I didn't feel doom but I was just wondering about things. A good long talk with a good friend can sort a lot of issues out quick smart. I can breathe again and got in a laugh or two. This is a simple post but just thought I'd let you know if you're listening;)
On another note I would love it if you could send out a prayer for my hubby. I saw a glimmer of hope for a chance at a job that would more than answer my prayers. I think he might go for it....
I also took off the "best" post because it is ever changing. I still have it and I still love you all but I'd like to keep that one for myself. I don't want to fight myself on it anymore. It is tiring.
Now that all my news and issues are sorted, I am going to bed. G' night:)

dusk and darkness

There are some things that are very dark. No one knows...maybe one. Maybe two. Only the people that were there and me. Only the people that get it that I talk to. Only people that understand. I don't want to go there. This kind of talk makes people worry. But don't worry. I used to write my journal like this. So that if anyone read it they wouldn't get it but I could still get things out. I don't know what to do about these things. They were supposed to go away. Time is supposed to bring settling to these thoughts surrounding. Not closure cause you can't go back and explain or figure out, but I rationalized situations and figured them the best I could. Now, things hit me out of nowhere. Is it out of these circumstances or a disease. Or am I just human and have to deal with darkness.
I have questions and when I figure them out maybe I will share. I might already know the answers but I don't want those answers. It's not cut and dry....I'll get back to you on this one.

pockets of sunshine

I wanted to relay that life is going pretty good.  A post of my friend is egging me on more. I often focus on the negative and it isn't good. It is good to think on things true, right, pure, lovely, admirable. And that is helpful. Look for the lesson. Look for the hope. Look back on the answered prayer. I am seeing alot of friends being put through the wringer right now and in it I feel human and hopeful. We are uplifting each other...spurring each other on. It helps to know you aren't alone. I am definitely overdoing it but I feel life is on an upswing no matter how many bad moments there are in a day or week. I am soon going to right a timeline of the good things that have happened in my life on the advice of Michelle (I hate always saying my therapist). I can remember significant bad memories all the way through my life back to six...or starting at six. I want to focus on the hopes fulfilled, the places God was working....like I said I feel like I am becoming who I want by tragedy rather than by striving for that. I am wiser and have life experience. I am not willing myself to be someone. I am being carved into that person. It brings to life the verses I have meditated on so often. Even when I have chosen the bad choice God puts a good spin on it. Now you know. Now you understand. Move on. Hm. Think on that one.

blank stares

I just want to sleep now. I just want to stay home and hibernate and have peace for a week. But I can't. My kids get cabin fever. Then they make me the opposite of what I want to be. I just want to stand in a hot shower and cry or stare at the wall until the water runs cold. Or drive..... I hate that I get days of ambition, just to wear myself out and be reminded that I am sick. I hate that it isn't my choice. Life is about choice so why do I get stuck with this. I am looking inward and I know that it goes farther than my tragedy. This blog is becoming more than that. It is my thoughts of life and faith as well as tragedy. I know that I have had an anxiety disorder before and even before. My miscarriage just pushed me over the edge. I will still be thankful that out of sufferings comes good. I am thankful for the thoughts of my friends and I am glad to encourage and be encouraged. But I am mad that I didn't have a choice. I know there is more to come....more to be excited for. But I still remember asking God to not let me want to come home. I still have to search the bad places that I chose so that I felt like I deserved my pain. I still have bad days is what I am trying to say. when you're sick you don't just get better. Sickness has to run it's course....

I think I might be....

I am having a hugely revelational and good day. I am on a high (a little manic) but it is seriously hopeful around here in my soul today. First off I am doing a study with my mom's group on Esther, or Hadassah (I love that name), by Beth Moore and I am loving it. Watching it and reading the devotionals, I am seeing myself and a whole bunch of my friends of whom I know their stories, and it is inspiring. Secondly, I think that I have come over the first mountain in my therapy. My therapist Michelle, who I have respect for and who doesn't talk down to me, has said that she is looking for the thread in my story. I am seeing it big time.
Now these two things collided in me this morning as I was driving, music blaring, snow glimmering. I had a realization that I am, all of a sudden, the woman who I had asked God that I could be when I was young. What the heck! I am almost balanced. I am almost confident in who I am. I am almost able to be strong in my beliefs and not hypocritical or judgemental. I am seeing where I have been and what that means to who I am. I am so grateful that I have stood by the fact that suffering brings perseverance, perseverance character, and character, hope. I am moved to tears on the inside. I wish I could see a sneak peek of where I'll be in another ten years....or even next year. I am excited for that.
Now I am not saying that I am a Proverbs woman. Well, maybe my version of one but |I am still struggling to be where I want. Besides, she probably had maidservants or sister wives helping her. I am not bragging. I am just amazed that I could be more than what I am. That I am getting somewhere. That I have had faith that I am where I am supposed to be and that God has plans for good and a future in my whole family. But now I am seeing the real tangible outcomes.....the answers to prayers....

My friends are my family.

I am so grateful for my friends, from when I was young and ongoing. I have always had a need for just a few deep, close friends that I cherish and would count as family. I have had that in all my stages in life, and again now, I have found some close, great women to share my life with. I am not the type to have guy friends. I just like my girl talk. I love to be uplifted, and encouraged, to vent, and to rejoice with them. I have carried a place in my heart for all of my friends from a child to an adult of (almost) thirty. And when I see those people it is like we didn't just meet up again, but have always been close. Hence, why they are like family to me. And thank you to technology (which I don't really like) for keeping me involved with my girls. We now share stories of children and family, of loss, of growth, of views decided and redecided. I love you.....I would name all of you but that would take awhile;) ..... you already know who you are anyways. <3

Don't grow any bigger.

Tomorrow my baby turns one. He is my third. My second boy. I so want a fourth babe. I am not ready for this to be the end. I struggle over the decision every day. I am so exhausted and think I almost lost it after Keiran and I have pretty horrible pregnancies (not as bad as some but not any fun). I don't want to be an impatient exhausted mom. It isn't fair to my kids.
The next problem is birth control. I cannot take birth control pills because they make me sick...I might as well be pregnant. But not just that. I am against them. I get it., I have taken them but I have rethought my stance on birth control. For one, I believe that they are the thing that caused my miscarriages....the gynecologist even mentioned it so casually. That they would make my uterus thin and hard for a baby to grow. And it is no coincidence that I miscarried after taking birth control before both of my lost babies. The other kids I had not taken it with and they were fine. It was like the miscarriages reset my body. Next, I was hoping to get an IUD. I would love to have five years, or just three, with no worry about getting pregnant. My doctor told me I could still get pregnant but the contraceptive would make it unable for the baby to implant. Pardon me. Are we retarded. This upsets me. And I would never want to mock God. "God, let me not lose my baby....let it grow healthy and strong"......then when I don't feel like having a baby for a time, I'll throw the rest away. The thought makes me sick. The doctors look down on me when I tell them my method of birth control that is not so controlling but so be it. I would rather conceive than be so deceived about the value of life.
In this lies my dilemma. I am scared that I will get too sick, in all ways, if I have another. I ponder fulfilling my dream of a big family. I pray that I will get better soon enough to decide.

One step forward. Two steps back. One step forward. Anxiety attack.

I am so sick at the moment. Not with the flu but with anxiety. I have had so many moments in the last few days where I have felt my normal. I saw light at the end of the tunnel. I was so hopeful that I started to dream that maybe there is a possiblity that in time I could have the fourth child that I have wanted. I took on the world. Now I am so sick. I feel like I wish I could throw up to relieve some of the pressure. Anxiety for me is like someone sitting on your chest...You want to push forward but at the same time you don't want to move in case it hits you down. You can still breathe but not deeply. You can scream...but you can't move. I have felt the encouragement to ignore the heaviness and move. Now I feel manic. Unable to breathe. I am going to go sit in the dark and pray for peace. Tomorrow I am going to get up slowly.

contentment

I had a good day. I had fun with my Aiden. We made Christmas crafts for hours. I made a good dinner that all members of the family ate without complaining. These are the things that make me look back at my day and feel contented. I still deal with the anxiety beneath the hum of the day but I feel like I accomplished something....because I did.

I knew this was coming.

I think I am coming off of this really bad high. I have learnt the lessons I needed to learn. I have posed the questions I have wanted to settle. The anxiety returns. The sadness returns. Except now there is one more tradgedy on the list. All is still not right in the world and I still can't be the one to fix things. I can't make everything peaceful. There is still tradgedy. I am still blindsided by horribleness. I have still lost the dreams of the way it was supposed to go. I have still lost two children. And now I have lost a friend. I no longer want to be helpful. I just want to sleep. I don't want to be vulnerable anymore. I just want all things to be settled, and peaceful, and hopeful. I just want to take my lessons and run.

swirly head

I have so much to get out but am stuck at the moment. Unable to organize my thoughts. Too much is going on all at once but I am not overwhelmed. I am just having times of mourning and times of processing, and times of remembering, and times of eye opening. I am dealing with this mourning, and then a friend commits suicide, and in the middle of it all I have been reading a book called Love Languages, by Garry Chapman. It has been so weird for me because all the things are intertwined right now. Every time I talk with my therapist, I then have a week of awakenment and all the details are dealing with my proccessing thoughts. I started to read this book as a way of better understanding my husband but it has also shown me things of my mother...and a little of my kids as well. It was like I saw my whole life and I fully understood why things were the way they were and are. Now this is no miracle book but I believe that God has brought me to a turning point. I can feel understood in understanding the way people react lovingly. I can see why certain things affect me deeply because they are the opposite of  the way I see love....and why certain things are so important. I see love where I felt nothing, or even hate and rejection. It is a relief really. It takes away some frustration.
If you don't want to pick this book up, I'll elaborate a little. It deals with the fact that people have one or two tendencies towards five specific love languages. These being; words of affirmation, quality time, touch, giving of gifts, and acts of service. If you think of the way you show love you will probably know yours. If you think of the way your significant other shows love, or the thing that they complain about the most even, you can probably guess theirs....I'll leave it at that. I  little bit lighter post but I am in transition and have no ranting in me. At least for the moment.

Romans 5:3-5

Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.
I have always loved these scriptures. And they always ring true in every situation. I feel more hope now after our friend's death than I did before. At first I felt shock and fear, because I had just had the conversations about being a good enough mother. I was not living up to my own expectations. I was praying that I would never get to the point where I thought I wasn't enough. Hm...I guess I am not enough, only God is...but that is another conversation. In this beautiful, but sick mother's death I am finding life. Weird. Death brings forth life. I saw what a wonderful mother she was. She did everything for her children and more. Protected, loved, taught. I am sure she was sick to the point that she didn't feel she was enough. At least these are the thoughts of reasoning about the whole situation. She was though. She was so much. I see my own mothering clearly now. I am always working for the good of my kids. I am worrying that they are getting enough vegetables but even if they don't, the point is, I care. I dress them well, I make sure they are warm enough, cool enough when they have a fever, teeth are brushed at least once a day, if not twice. Not only that but I do more...to make sure that they never doubt that they are loved. I make each of them their own scrapbook with pictures of each month for the first year. In addition they have a baby book with their birth stories about how they came into the world and were wanted. I make each of them a homemade quilt with things that they like such as trains, or butterflies that they can hold onto and that can keep them warm. I pray with them before bed and always thank God for them out loud so that they can hear, and then ask for health and protection- that they would grow strong, and healthy, beautiful, and that they would always know God. I hope all things for them. I love them. And I am a good mother. That prayer has been answered. It might sound silly to some but when you are fighting with the feelings of depression and anxiety, thoughts are not always so clear. But truth is truth.

Fricken' Eve

I am going to have to come to the conclusion that I am just human and therefore I cannot be a perfect mom. I will have to realize that no matter what I do I cannot keep my children safe and on a clear path. Just writing this makes me feel ill. The safe part that is. I have such ambition, and such expectation of myself. I hope for all things good for my kids. One day they will make their own choices. One day they will get their little hearts broken. One day they won't be so little. I have to fight all of these days until those days and beyond, to let them go and let God take care of it all. It's all I can do. Sometimes I want to blame Eve half jokingly but don't you think she went through it too. She didn't wake up one day and think to herself, I am going to disappoint my husband today, I am going to scar my children for generations to come. I don't wake up thinking, I am going to lose my patience when I am exhausted, I am going to be disappointed in my husband for not reading my mind. I think all things good for my family in the morning and before I go to bed but somewhere in the exhaustion in between I lose my plan. Good thing God has a plan for good and not harm, for a future and a hope. I am going to bed...all things look brighter in the morning. Maybe one day I'll write a post in the morning. It won't be so melancholic....

We are weak and he is strong.

Today this small town feels like a big city. The weather is dark. The valley goes on forever through the mountains and it is dreary, rainy. It is as if this place knows of the tragedy. Of a woman who left us. A friend that didn't give us enough time to know her well. A beautiful mother that is leaving two precious girls. I can't imagine what their grief is like. I can imagine what hers was. Enough to drown in. I wish she could have connected with us. I wish she would have stayed. This isn't a time for wishes. This is a time for prayer. That is all I can do. It puts life into perspective. I am not the one who can help but I can pray. And I don't have words but God knows the heart. In death there is change. In life there is change. I know she is resting in heaven. My anxiety is high for thoughts of her family left behind. I can pray.
God, I pray for peace in the valley of the shadow of death. I pray for mourning to come and be full, for this is the time for that. I pray for leaning on you and not pushing away. I pray that our thoughts would become actions and our words soothing. I pray for blanketing hugs for her girls, as well as her husband. I pray that when all we can do is pray that we do just that and not for a fleeting moment but for real. And God let us listen. That if there is something more we can do.....if not thank you Lord that we can pray..........

I have that feeling again

I am praying for change these days. Not to do with my anxiety but with life in general. Every once in awhile I get that feeling...like life is going to change or something is about to happen. I had that just awhile ago and now the silence that comes after, while I wait in anticipation for what God is about to do in our lives.
I have been praying for a home. We left a cozy little home that was our own and I long for a house to settle into that doesn't come with an old strange guy attached to it. One prayer. I have been praying that my husband could move around in his company. That he could get an apprenticeship...or the desire of his heart. He is a genius when it comes to anything mechanical and whether or not he has worked on something, he can figure it out and fix it.....our plumbing, furnace, framing, electrical, refrigerator, more plumbing.... Another prayer. Hm....these are the ones on my heart right now. I am grateful for this big spacious rental home and grateful for my husband's job which lets him be home for four days every week if he chooses. I am hopeful for more. Not just to be fine, but be content. To be fulfilled.
There are other things..for peace...for patience...for healing....to connect....for clarity...to simplify my thoughts...but these concrete changes are things that I can hope towards.

in sickness and in health

I love my children. They are so smart, so gorgeous, so strong. I strive to do anything and everything for them. I don't mind getting up in the night to care for them. To gaze at their cute little noses and long eyelashes. I often let them sneak into our bed when their Daddy is at work. I love to have them near and smell their little necks and kiss their little eyelashes. And when I was pregnant I would hold them as I slept and feel their little feet or knees or bum.
I wish it was all this pleasant. I wish I had more patience. I am exhausted. I fear I am painting the wrong picture sometimes. I don't mind being exhausted by lost sleep and long days. I am exhausted deep within my soul. I am saddened by the fact that I feel things ten times more than I should. I am anxious about anything that could possibly happen. And I don't choose this. I feel everything that could happen. It races through my mind and I fight for it to pass. I am exhausted. An internal war. At night I pray for peace and God hears my cry.
I hope that he can take this all from me. My loss was such a shock. A huge ordeal in secret. I see MacCrea often in my mind. Holding him. It makes me want to be sick. Then it makes me want to cry. Then I do cry a little. Then I move on. I tuck it away and wait for heaven. I wait for healing.....

miscarriage is a deceptive word

Miscarriage is a deceptive word. It evokes thoughts of blood and pity. It makes light of the truth that a baby is dead. I had a child and now it is is heaven. I wonder all things about him...about her. I fear death of myself, of my children. I am distracted by a gazillion other things but in the quiet I am shaking. I am scared to death. Of death. Not of pain. Not of heaven. I long for heaven. But of loss. Tradgedy. Shock and unimaginable pain. A pain that cannot be physically soothed. Only God can heal. When will that healing come. Digging deeper into the grief, and only because I could breathe no longer, I am more afraid. How can I deal with this and raise my kids to know they are loved when all I know is fear. Be anxious of nothing....I am anxious of everything that involves my precious children. I am so exhausted of feeling this way. Will saying this over and over bring change. Can I just rationalize everything until I believe the world is well again. Oh God, let it be well again.

I don't want to go to bed.

Maybe it has to do with not going to bed until all is resolved. I am having a hard time tonight. I sometimes wish that you could die of a broken heart, then I wouldn't have to deal with all of this. It comes out of nowhere. A heightened anxiety for no reason....or at least no conscience reason. I am frozen in fear. I feel like I will throw-up or wish that I could or at least scream. Hmmm...maybe I am grieving now. I have just had this thought. It is hard to deal. In this is where my two sides collide. I am a graceful compassionate woman of God who longs to love people to him....and I am a broken humiliated soul who wants to be reclusive and sleep. I am thoughtful and wise, then opinionated and harsh, then wounded and small, then gentle and quiet. I am glad for my suffering. It brings understanding into the lives of the weak and broken. Because I am one of them. But I am also strong. I am still alive and I am fighting. I am trying to find balance in all of this..who I once was and who I became. I am growing character. I just hope it doesn't take too long.

into the world

My biggest boy is now in preschool. It is oddly enough not too hard to let him go....that is if he is happy. He loved preschool for the first while and now, while he always has lots of fun, he doesn't want to stay without me. It is hard to let go when he is upset.
I am now trying to manouver playdates or anything that will make him feel more comfortable. It feels like highschool instead of preschool. I want him to encounter kids of all sorts and learn to accept, while keeping his beliefs and standards. I want to pick the kids he plays with and he doesn't know any of them yet.
The parents are joining the kids in new relationships or old cliques. Can't it be simple. They are only three and four years old. Tommorrow we have a playdate. I hope we make good relationships, both him and I....

death or life

When I was young I wanted to die when I was fifty. I wanted to have my kids and then die young. Now I want to live until I meet all of my great-granchildren.
My Grandpa is in the hospital. He has made it far but now his lungs don't want to breathe anymore. They won't produce oxygen and he could go to sleep and not wake up. The family is having a hard time to decide what to do. He has never wanted to be on machines, living with tubes in him. My uncle wondered how do you choose whether you live or die. My husband says it is selfish for him to just die and leave everyone. I say it is selfish for everyone to expect him to stay around in this state. We both have good intentions. We both hate selfishness.
I was told that there are many questions that the family has to ask now. I say that there is just one. Does he know God? If he does then all confusion should fall to the side. If the family really believes then they will have peace in the fact that he is with Jesus. It will still be hard to let him go but this life is the short one. He will be having a new birthday the day he leaves. I heard someone say today that all you have to do is say yes. God wants you... just say yes. I hope to hear that he has or is saying just that before he goes. Then I can see him in heaven. And he can meet his other grandchildren. God give someone the strength and the words to lead him on.

two

I had another dream. A baby girl with dark curls and big round, brown eyes. I thought that maybe it would be my sister-in-law's baby. It was Ariel. My lion of God.
After my first loss I got pregnant two weeks later. Not on purpose but it was a blessing. My Aiden was born the next June. I was pregnant for thirteen months it seemed as I had only a short but aweful break between the two. He was gorgeous with lots of dark hair and big brown eyes. He is still gorgeous.
After about six months (after Aiden was born), I had the want for more kids. I think I needed to store them up;) I was pregnant again easily as always and then nauseous. I started to feel better. No one was worried. At my twleve week prenatal check, when you are supposed to hear a little heartbeat, my doctor couldn't find one. It gets a little fuzzy for me here... I went for an emergency ultrasound the next day. I knew what to expect. No heartbeat, sorry. I was sent back to the clinic only to find that most of the doctors were away at a seminar. I saw the one general practitioner left behind. He sent me to the gynocoligist not realizing that he was away too. I ended up in emerg days later. They were going to send me for a D&C and make me wait with a dead body inside me for more torturous days, but I was bleeding, and maybe septic. The doctor that had to see me then was the one who first sent me home to miscarry alone. My husband, whom I am so grateful for was there. This doctor was going to send me home to do the same as I had before. I imagined sitting in my bathtub with my toddler banging at the door. It makes me sick even now. My husband fought for me and there was no arguement. I had the miscarriage at the hospital. It was better that time. Not as painful. The only shock was that my water broke. Disturbing. It lasted four and a half hours. Like my first. Like my son. Like my beautiful daughter Gemma whom I would conceive six months later. I didn't see my babe that time. At least not in person. But I know what she looks like in heaven. My Gemma is blonde with blue eyes. My Ariel has dark curls like her daddy and big brown eyes.

It's just that kind of night.

Someone should start a church for the melancholic. For the people who are walking through the valley of the shadow of death. The shadow of death is exhausting. I am sometimes ashamed of the church. I am never ashamed of God. In mission we go out and hang with the prostitutes, the jailed, the orphans, the poorest. We applaud the people who do...and we should. This is God' heart for the lost. But at home we stay far from the nightlife downtown, we fear the criminals, we pity the orphans, and we turn our eyes from the poor. We try to be set apart with our bodies instead of our souls. So we stay away from the hurting or barely surviving, from the coping and the oppressed. We wouldn't want to catch their demons.
I am suffering and therefore I have felt like I want to create an atmosphere where I deserve my pain....where it hasn't hit me but I have welcomed it instead. I want to be in control. This is where my whole self is at war. I want to be a wholesome person but I sometimes just want to cope and be wounded. People will know that I know God by my love. My compassion where it counts. I hope anyways.  

prayers of the heart kind

Suffering brings perseverance, perseverance character, and character hope.
I always take what I can learn and am glad that I can then understand someone elses plight. It's like when you get the flu before your child does. You can understand what they can't say in words. It was like that when I lost my babe...and immediately. I think I was trying to understand and rationalize what had happened. I was glad that I had a chance to see my baby and I hope that God can use that one day. I have always had a passion to help people understand the affects of abortion. I thought that maybe one day God would use my experience for that purpose. To know a baby in the time when it should be covered by it's mother's body. My baby was real and growing and had purpose.

harsh sorrow (to put it lightly)

My soul is sick. My story: I was twenty-four. I was engaged. I was four months pregnant. My planned first child that I had dreamed of since I was a child. I was buying a house with my man.....
I had a dream about my baby. He looked like my Grandpa and his daddy with big blue eyes and full dark hair (he looked exactly like my son Aiden who was born a year later, except for his blue eyes).
I went to the doctor for my 16 week prenatal check-up. My nausea had subsided a bit finally and I had told Garry that I didn't even really feel pregnant anymore. I wasn't. The doctor felt I wasn't big enough for four months so he sent me to get an emergency ultrasound. They said they couldn't find a heartbeat....what did that mean. Then back to the doctor. He said sorry, just like that. Then he gave me some pills to bring on a miscarriage that my body had not taken care of. I was in shock. Extreme shock. I called my dad but I couldn't speak. I just cried. "Dad my baby died." Then Garry came home and my dad sent my mom up on an airplane.
I took the pills and we walked over to our house inspection. After awhile I started to feel cramping so we went home. I took some T3's that the doctor had prescribed and went to the bathroom, thinking that this would be bloody but just like a heavy period. It wasn't. I went to the bathroom and felt something come out. I thought it was a clot. It was my baby. In it's sack. Hanging there. I panicked and put my hand down to cradle it. I sat like that for hours. Pushing. Hoping it would be over. When I couldn't take it anymore, I went to the tub and layed on a towel. Blood came and I labored quietly. Not intense labour but still pain. After four and a half hours (the same amount of time that I laboured later with two of my children), my placenta finally came out. I was free of the baby. I didn't want to touch my dead child, so fragile, but I stared good and hard at him. He was tiny with a little black eye and tiny arms. So amazing even in his underdeveloped state. I called my mom in and asked her if she would like to see the baby. I think I needed someone to know this was real. I didn't show Garry. I couldn't. I needed him to be okay. Next, what to do with my precious miracle gone. I put him in a shoe box, wrapped in a towel. I had to come to terms with the fact that he was gone. This would be his burial.
I thought I overdosed on tylenol that night, but I think now that I was maybe just having the worst anxiety attack that I had ever experienced. I tunneled into immediate depression and now know that I have Traumatic Stress Syndrome. I feel everything tens times worse than I should and feel like my children could die at any minute. It is hard to even say that. I am exhausted. I am now seeking help and am forced to push beyond what I want to. I need people to know. I need to not be trapped. I may regret saying this all. It needs to be said. I am not complaining. I am waiting until I can go home. I am too tired. That is a long way from now. I need to live and I need some peace.
His name is MacCrea....child of grace.

On a whim....

I am needing my bed...on a whim I created this...about the greatest creation....children.....about my internal war....sorrow of loss....anxiety that comes with the desire to mold your children to be the strongest, smartest, most beautiful....I am tired...I need an outlet.....and I need my bed.