A note.

So many things are going on. Keiran's moved to a big boy bed, Gemma is potty training, we bought a new home, and it is almost the day that I said goodbye to Ariel (June 1st, 2007). I am worn out and excited. I have things in the back of my mind coming up randomly. I think I am still doing better, but I don't want to stop and think about it for fear that I might stop walking on the water and start sinking....

Faith is a verb.

It occurred to me in my quiet time the other day that faith was a choice. This really hit me. I had decided to choose faith even though I wasn't feeling it. Faith is not a feeling.

Faith

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For other uses, see Faith (disambiguation).

Mino da Fiesole, Faith.

Faith is the confident belief or trust in the truth or trustworthiness of a person, concept or thing, or a belief that is not based on proof.^[1][2] Faith is in general the persuasion of the mind that a certain statement is true,^[3] belief in and assent to the truth of what is declared by another, based on his or her supposed authority and truthfulness.

The persuasion of the mind that something is true.... or in other words... I choose to believe.

the plans I have for you

We have bought a house....well, subject to financing and inspection. We don't have alot of funds so it is nerve racking waiting for the decision/options from the bank. It is hard to trust that it will all work out. I know that if it doesn't work out, then there is a reason. I want to be able to trust God completely. I think I am more worried about disappointment than not getting the house. It is a property and we are dreaming up big plans for it already. However, we are fine where we are. We would just like to own our own house again. I never knew that I would feel so strongly about a family home as I do now. Our first home, which we bought before our son was born, was so charming and cozy. I miss that home. This home feels the same...charming. When we went to see it the kids were running and playing like it was their yard already and my husband was smiling ear to ear. I struggle to let go. To kick out that inkling of doubt. The rest of me feels like it is all we hoped for... and it is falling into place. I need to do some soul settling today....

the walk

When my kids are misbehaving and straight out disobedient, I discipline them, I spur them on to correct their behavior, and then I move on. I do not disown them and tell them that they are no longer my children until they prove that they are perfect little angels again. This sounds like a ridiculous thought but really is that not how we sometimes feel about God.  Being a parent brings great revelation on how God's heart is for us when he calls us children. From birth (of my kids), I feel as though I am aware that all God wants from us is our hearts, because we have his. He just wants to be with us, have relationship with us. He wants to encourage the great parts of our personalities and dissuade us from becoming rotten or hurt. He wants us to make good plans and when we can't see that what we are doing isn't adding up, he will step in, but only if we let him. He doesn't want us to be little robots of him. He gave us freedom of choice. He wants us to grow in character and to know him. I am glad for these truths. We are his. He chose us. We choose him back. He who started a work will be faithful to complete it in us. And that doesn`t mean starting over... it means continuing on.

Sleep.

I hate this traumatic stress anxiety disorder. It puts goggles over my eyes. It makes everything a weapon. It blurs my thinking. I just want to go to bed until it's over. My kids were sick too long and now I am tired and can't catch up. I was doing so well. It is so sad.
I used to like change, liked to travel, liked to go on road trips, liked to call up my friends, liked to look at houses. Now I see weapons everywhere... the stairs, the road, the tile floor, the railing, the sharp or small toy. I just want to play with my kids outside in the yard but I am on guard at all times. The stairs only have one hand rail and they are high. A cement retaining wall over the side and cement steps at the bottom. A big dog running up and down, not regarding the small kids. I just stare at it trying to make peace. Would I be like this if I hadn't lost a child, two children.
I am indecisive and forgetful. I don't know why there isn't enough money set aside in the bank account that I checked in the morning and it is because I bought something at the gas station two hours earlier. I walk up and down the hallway because I finished a chore not meant to be done and remembered the reason that I went down in the first place. I freak myself out when I make popcorn because it takes a minute or two to start popping and by then I have forgotten that I put it in the microwave. (This is slightly amusing)
I try to do the things that can help... that do help. The weather makes it hard to get out with toddlers. Teething, sickness, growing pains, wake up my kids in the night. I think of the things that make it hard to let go and I just want to stay home. My kids want out so they run wild. I get more exhausted. I become a not fun mom. I get sarcastic to people because I really just want to cry. I think I might sound rude. I am not a rude person.
I don't even want a break anymore. I just want to sleep in for a week. And nap in the afternoon.
I was contented. I was even happy. Now I am low. I still think that I am dealing better but I can't catch a break. Would I really feel better with more sleep? Probably.
This problem takes away my identity. I am no longer who I want to be. I am only surviving. I do stupid things. Think stupid thoughts. I stay up later trying to get a break and come to terms with my thoughts when all I need is sleep. I need to go to bed early tonight. All week. I will feel better in the morn........

The ideal life.

I have ideas of what is an ideal life. An ideal house, an ideal place to live. It irritates no one more than it does me. It's like a dream that you can never catch. If only.... if only..... if only.... Ugh. All I want is a yard with a deck that my toddler age children can walk right out into, and play in the sun. Why is there always something that makes life just a little difficult.
Another ideal would be to have a spouse that sees things the way that you do. I am glad that I do not for the sake of worrying too much on my part, but it would be great to have a spouse that has the same faith beliefs. It is upsetting the balancing of my life. I want to soar above the issues and be encouraged and I seem to be dragged back to reality constantly. It is hard to live in a state of praise when the one you share everything with, cannot understand what that even means. It feels like a battle of souls. I am losing this one most days lately, at least to my standard. I am too tired. Physically it is all fine and dandy to leave things alone. Spiritually it is exhausting. And why would I let it go. If the one I love doesn't know something that I think is the most important thing in all of life, wouldn't I be unloving if I didn't want him to share in that. Not only this, but it is ultimately difficult when you add kids into the mix. I am trying to spur my kids on to live in faith. I can't do this alone. Everyone makes their own choices. In marriage the choices are unified.... or divided.
I know my husband was for me. I asked for him in characteristic and even appearance when I prayed for a man. I love him to no end. I hope that this faith issue resolves itself though. I am torn and therefore stuck. Stuck because I love and torn because it is not my decision to make.
So, here are the prayers of my heart. For a home that is comfortable in all areas. For an understanding of my faith in the one I love.

One of these things.

One of these things, these major decisions, is about babes. I think I am ready to be done having any more kids. I am fine with having Aiden, Gemma, and Keiran. I don't think of them as numbers so three is fine. I think of them as my independent strong boy, my beautiful, quiet, poised girl, and my soft hearted, fun baby boy.
If I could just have one more and sit back and gaze on my gorgeous treasures, I might have more. I am too tired, too impatient from being too tired, and my body has been pushed to the limit. There is sickness all winter and Aiden is starting kindergarten in September. I will be onto the next step.
I have mixed feelings about leaving the baby stage but it will bring relief, and camping trips, and other family fun.
And I don't think of myself as a mother of three. I have five babes. I feel five babes. I see five babes. I am so thankful for the dreams that God gave me of my lost babes. I can see their faces in my mind's eye, although sometimes it gets a bit blurry.... of a little spiky haired, blue-eyed boy and a dark, curly haired, big brown eyed girl.............

at this point

I feel like I look fake, but I am not. I am just flailing a little. I feel like I sound like I have an attitude, but I don't. I am just sad in the far corner of somewhere and that comes out angry. I am at the next point. Not a big deep jump. I woke up somewhere with people all around me and wondered, how did I get here.
I was looking at things that should feel horrible...and they didn't. They finally feel horrible. Some bad choices. Some real coping. I am glad that my mind is matching my emotions. Reality sucks a little though. How did I get here.....
I am ready for the next. I am unsettled with big decisions. Some that I have no control over...some are all too heavy on my shoulders. When this passes, it will all be relief. I am ready for it though...if I could just get up. I need a little boost here.

The dance.

I am in limbo. I have that waiting feeling. It is spring but it keeps snow storming. I don't really like this feeling. It makes me low. It makes me have old familiar torturous dreams. It makes me long for more in life. It makes me feel stuck for the moment. At least I know that when this feeling passes, change comes....and it is always good.

Sickness in me.

I can't handle this anymore. It needs to be spring...no summer. It needs to be relief and happiness that stays. I can't handle watching my Gemma sick still or again. I don't even know. She just wants to sit and watch cartoons. Still drinking a little....eating a handful, barely. She just wants to sit. Randomly she will start to eat again and then has enough energy to play for a bit. Then back to sitting. She has that pale look that I hate. I can't stand it. I can feel her tummy bubbling. Is she even sick now. Her tummy is just messed up from being too sick I think. A morning of hope and back to the sit and suck her thumb. This morning not even hope yet. If it was just a week it would be better. She has been sick for a week and better for a few days, then sick again, for over a month. I have been having to overcome everyday. God has been faithful in every part of this. Now God, where is the end. I want to see her pink cheeks...her little legs running, and her little hands playing. God, heal her completely and bring blessing. I praise you because you are faithful God. I am sad and angered at this sickness though. Come.

little wisdoms

I had coffee with an older friend this week. I have enjoyed hanging with olders since I was young. I like to soak in the wisdom of someone who has been through it already. I enjoy the quietness of the soul that knows that God is faithful in whole. I know it but I think just in part. God is wholly faithful but I am party scared to death still.
I turned thirty with excitement for getting older and wiser. I am finding it brings some new issues. I am more aware of my health. My body is aching from having five pregnancies in four years. (I have pelvic floor relapse, a diastisis, and a umbilical hernia). I am more sensitive to medicines and foods. I am more aware of people around me getting sick. 
I wish sometimes that I had taken the time to enjoy my kids and not rushed for the next one. I think I wanted to build up my family quickly in fear that I didn't know how many children I would lose or gain. Another affect of my miscarriages. It took so long to wait until four months, three months.....to get past the safe zone of pregnancy and then find out I had to start all over again. And even then, what if I lost a child. But my God is faithful and he is not punishing me for anything. I have three healthy children, besides the minor issue, and God is rebuilding my faith. I had been sideswiped by tragedy. God was still there. I don't think I even am afraid of death but of pain. I want to guard all things. I want to protect. Sometimes we have to bear pain....and sometimes our children have to bear pain. It will build character.
I will be glad when I look back as a peaceful and steady old woman. My smile wrinkles will be the deepest and my heart full of blessing.

The What Ifs.

I think it would be fun to see God's hand working in real time. I see it in retrospect. I would love to see into the spiritual world for a day and have my eyes open to what was going on in whole; body, mind, spirit. That is where faith's place is, but for fun.....
What if an angel's hand cradled the head of my child as they launched themselves towards the corner of the fireplace.... wall.... cupboard....
What if God whispered in my ear to wake up just as my son was climbing on the stool, on top of the chair, to get to the candy hidden in the top cupboard.
What if God spoke directly to my heart as I had my shower to step out and find my son who had climbed on the stove, turned it on, and turned it back off. Maybe God was speaking to him to turn it back off too before he cooked his little bum.
What if I saw God standing beside me waiting for the time to take my family out of the city.
What if he drove us to a place where we learned healing, forgiveness, faith.
What if he whispered a verse, a song, to encourage my friend, that in turn encouraged me.
What if I saw the thread he wound around us.
What if I could see the angels standing guard at my children's bedroom doors as they slept.
What if I even saw the second a car flew back onto their own side of the road before I turned the corner.
What if I felt the hand of God on my back.
What if I saw the return of a giving spirit in whole of what I received.
What if I could see what was coming from the seeds I planted today.
Maybe if I didn't have so many "what if's" I would stop second guessing God and imagining awful fates, and start seeing God's hand. Most of these things have happened and there is no what if about them. It was God. He is in control. At least if I add the what ifs of a faithful God to the what ifs of a circumstantial world, I will have hope and in retrospect, joy.
Philippians 4:4-9 (check it out).

walls

I am having a good day. The sun is shining (which always helps). My kids are on the mend. And I am encouraged. Yesterday I started to search for a way out of the fear that I have when my kids are sick. I found some peace. It is not fixed but it will be. There is hope. I talked to a few good friends and they shared their experiences, helped me normalize my filter once again. I am pushing myself to let go a bit in this.
Today I got out of the house and went to visit a best. I am laughing because she has already written a post since I left her house too. It is so encouraging to find my truths with my friends and to hope in things together. To share life. I am reminded of things to come. Things God has spoken to my spirit. Things that I can only call things because I don't know how they look yet. I do know that they are along the lines of restoration. As of yesterday, I could feel a wall moving again. There is more hope on the horizon...and hope does not disappoint.

The house that God built.

The next thing that I need to have a breakthrough on is this sick stuff. My kids get fevers and I feel like I am drowning. I am so worried that there is something more that is wrong than just the flu and I worry that a fever left too long or missed, will send them in to seizure. I have grounds for this worry and that is the problem I think.
When my Aiden was a few months old I thought he had a bladder infection. There were signs and I told the doctor. It was dismissed. A while later I told another doctor and they said not to worry it wasn't common in boys. That Thanksgiving, he had a high fever and started to turn blue and had the tremors. This, according to my nurse friends, is when there is danger of seizing. We took him into emerg and he had a raging UTI just like I had thought. It took took two rounds of antibiotics in this poor four month old babe, and a few further tests. After that we left it alone on advice of the pediatrician that the illness had passed and the tests can be contaminated because they are little bags left on the babies until they go. He has been fine since.
When my Gemma was a year and a bit, she got really sick. We thought it was a combination of teething and the flu. After we had to take her into emerg, we found out she had a UTI. It has continued on and off. I worry that I am going to the doctor too much and I worry that I will leave it too long out of worrying that I am and therefore her infection gets worse. I don't like to use the urine bags because of the contamination so I sit and wait with a little cup under a two year that is not potty trained- for hours sometimes. She will probably just grow out of these bladder infections so I am trying to keep her clean and away from tests. I shower her only now and every night. Soon she'll be potty trained.
Anyways, my point is that I can't handle fevers. I don't handle them. I have talked about this alot but I am still looking for a way out. I can't get this sick-to-my-stomach feeling every time they are sick. A feeling of waiting for it to pass. I don't want to go to bed at night so I can watch over them. When this happens three times over (with three kids), and every two weeks over this seemingly long winter, I start to lose it. I know I can trust God to watch over my children. I need to learn balance and hope to cope in the mean time.
I grew up in a "what if" family too. Maybe that is part of my problem. I need to not explore all the risks and options. If I could just deal as it came, it wouldn't be so bad.  I need to have a breakthrough on the fact that I know what to do and if it gets bad God will come through like he has. How do I convince myself of this? If I lived by all the what-ifs, I would live in a padded house beside the hospital. Haha. Hey, they have one of those. *wink*
There's a thought. I just wrote the title and maybe that will be my hope for today. A house that God built. There are two angels guarding the doors of the kids bedrooms. The LORD will whisper and wake me when the kids start to get sick or run a fever. It happened last night. I woke at five am when the medicine wore off and Gemma's fever started to get high. Oh, stubborn soul, why can't you have faith. It is man that has failed you, not God. His anger only lasts a moment but his favor lasts forever...remember. This inward fight sucks. Just saying. If only I could see in full. I am going to think on the things that I can't see today..maybe that will help. Anyone want to add onto that, please do...verses welcome as well......

babes

I am so thankful for my children.
They are the answered prayer of the desires of my heart.
My bug and my baby.
My bear.
And the blessing of them will continue always as they grow.
They make this Mamma's heart happy.
They are smart, gorgeous, and strong.
My bug- too old for his britches. A confidant leader.
My baby- a cuddle bug. Sweet and strong.
My bear- a little mamma. Compassionate and beautiful.
They are all stubborn and will make great big people.
I pray they will grow up to always know God.
That they will always remain close.
We love our family.

Links

God is linking up my life right now with my friends. I am beyond grateful for them . I need them to stay afloat. Amidst the joy I am feeling a fight. But there is encouragement in confirmation and God is faithful. When I am feeling the joy leave and the waves are threateningly close to me, he sends a reminder. You have no idea where I would be if it wasn't for God. Probably at the bottom of a bathtub. Harsh. But seriously true. Where do you go when you have no one to hope in. I have always had God. He was my only savior. He is my only Savior. Thank you Jesus for saving my soul and then saving my life. Your hand has been in it all. I love love you.

Searching this song and found it with the story behind it.....

whatever your little heart desires

I woke up with huge praises coming from my heart. I have that feeling of expectation. I have had this every once in awhile and it never disappoints. It is like when you are told there is a gift coming. It is exciting and your mind throws around ideas of what it is....Is it something you asked for? Something you have been waiting for? A surprise? Was it thought out? Did they keep in mind your tastes and personality?
You know it is going to be big. That's my feeling. I have been talking about little glimpses and joy in everyday. It continues. God isn't finished. That is the best part. It is homemade and especially for you. And it is something to share, to add onto, to give away....to multiply.
I'd like a metaphoric fruit tree to share with all my friends. The ones I love. The ones I see hurting. "Here friend, look what God brought over. Homemade. From scratch. Planted with a seed and grown to fruition. Grows big fruit. Enough to share with the neighborhood. Take some home with you."

little glimpses

My fingers are inspired this morning. They are ready to write. Lately I have been getting excited about the nitty gritty calling out to God situations. I rejoice a little when I see them. Then I put myself in check so that I don't look insane. But really, I have seen a glimpse of hope and I know that when you cry out to God, and mean it, he answers.
I also think that when it feels like you are stuck and up against the wall, it is only time before a floodgate will pour out. Our fight is not against flesh and blood and when things seem unreal, I think it it because of this.
I have been on edge this last week or so, trying to find truth and waiting for my kids to be healthy again. When I look beyond winter, I get excited. I have so much on my mind and I am seeing glimpses everywhere.

the best stories

I have some bests. Many of them are blunt kinda, down to earth, say it like it is, creative types. I like it that way. They have soul and they aren't fake. I appreciate that I can tell them things that aren't surface. I need that in my life. And not just that, I need to know them too. I need to know how I can care and who they are. I don't want dates. I want mates. Okay. I have been quarantined with sick kids for a week so I am starting to lose my sanity and am now rhyming....but you get it. I love my bests. I can tell them all things and they try to understand, they tell me what they think, and they are real. And they have stories too.....

After the storm.

After the storm, there is the most potential for growth...for the trees, for the weeds. Prune the trees, rip out the weeds, and underneath there will be flowers blooming abundantly.

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. 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.
~ Romans 5: 1-5

A song for Sunday

A side note.

I love writing. It makes me use my brain, and my creativity. When I start I still have mom brain. Then after awhile I can feel revelation coming. Inspiration. Or at least I can sort my thoughts on a bad day. I go away settled.
This blog started as an anonymous way to relieve my pain. It has become a great way to share it. I let a few in to get feedback on my insanity. I let a few in to encourage after that. I am writing differently now. I know that some are reading. I have not changed my honesty but sometimes I have your pain on my heart when I write.
My truths are changing a bit too. I won't go back and erase. I want to be able to look back and see God's hand in retrospect. I find joy in that.
Anyways, thanks for all your encouragement. I hope you tag "follow"on the right so I know who is continuing to read, and comment. I like the input and encouragement. Feel free to challenge any truths too. (But with gentleness please). I am still polishing them.

* If you sign up for a google account, and it just takes a minute, then you can "follow" any blogs that you read.  And, if you go to blogger.com, you can easliy create your own blog. I would love to hear about your story.

The journey...

We were going on a journey. To a new place. To a new land. We walked through the hills in warm temperatures. Lush grass and mossy trees. Down to a valley. I talked with him awhile and fell asleep in the grass. It was so peaceful. Sunkissed cheeks and a soft breeze blowing.
Along the ravine there was a creek of glacier water and I drank. The night was coming. I wasn't afraid. He was there. He put his arm around me. He knew the way. And his gun was at his side. He could, he would, protect me.
We ate by a fire that night. I could sense the dark grey coyotes on the hills but I wasn't afraid. The wind picked up and the tall grass moved with it. We ate until we were full. And then he kissed my forehead. I was overwhelmed with the thought that he loved me so much to stand by me in this journey.
When we reach the other side of this mountain, I will live in his house. It will be good and I will be loved, all my days.

~ An imagination of Psalm 23.

just a little joy

If you just ask, your husband will empty the dishwasher. If you just ask God, he will give you joy while you are at the dentist. Let your need be known.
I am not even joking. It's been a hard week. I am struggling to overcome. I am still finding joy everywhere. It tells me that God will continue this healing until he completes it. Kids are all fevering now and coughing up a storm. I went to the dentist yesterday. To get my first two cavities filled. I am thirty so no one shows compassion. It was a sad day;) But really, if you have struggled with anxiety, someone covering your mouth is not a fun time. I was so nervous and I was praying. The verses in Psalm 23 came to me....Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.....your rod and your staff, they comfort me.....your rod and your staff, they comfort me......my cup runneth over....
I found my soul smiling at the dentist. (And I felt no pain at all.) This is a strange story but I am determined to find joy and not let fear run wild. Another scripture unlocked in my self....I want to study that one now.
And about the dishwasher, my wonderful husband heard that I was overwhelmed with the counter full of dirty dishes that had been neglected while I tended to sick kids. and he cleaned up the whole mess for me. Joy.

Fever. Hacking cough. Times three.

Where is the balance when it comes to feverish children. I have no control. God has all control. But I have responsibility. I am struggling to find the balance. I let go and then I take it back. I don't want to overdo the medicine. I don't want to let the fever run wild. I don't want to let fear rule the week. God give me wisdom in this and help me find the balance. Your love extends to my children's children. Your righteousness and justice. Mahal na mahal Lord.

fffffhhhhhhmmmm

I think that I am back on the upswing. That was harsh. My worst fears all combined. A sick babe, with night approaching, in a snow storm (with the hospital an hour away).
We were having company and they had just arrived. My poor Gem woke up after her nap, shaking and crying, and turning blue, from a high fever. But God is bigger. Our company just happened to be a woman who I trust with my children and a man who has been truck driving in snow storms for I think over forty years. I don't believe in coincidence remember. I wasn't scared in the storm and I didn't have to endure it alone, literally.
At the hospital I was not enduring the attack on my child. And it felt like an attack. Even waiting on that bed, there was a boy locked in a room at the end of the hall. He was screaming and banging on the door violently. It was sense overload. For some reason at around eight after being there for hours I felt a little bit of strength coming back. I realized that God's love for me (in Psalm 103) wasn't just for me....for my children's children. Not that I didn't know that but sometimes God unlocks scripture to our understanding when we need it most. This didn't make it much easier but it was something to cling to. And God's hope does not disappoint.
We left there with the conclusion that this sickness was just a bad virus- no reoccurring UTI and no pneumonia. This was good. Drove back through a snow storm and got home to two sleeping babes. I look back and laugh (a little), sorta want to cry still writing this. But God obviously had his hand in this.
My Gem-Bear is on the mend. My joy is returning. Here we go....*big sigh*

I am a dreamer.

I have been daydreaming. My eyes have been opened and I have seen how life can be different. I am finding joy and peace and contentment where I am at. I am being used of God and am being blessed. I am not waiting for my kids to grow up, or waiting to get better a hundred percent. I am stepping out in faith. I can't see where or why. In retrospect, I see where sin has rippled into miles of ocean. I can see where God's hand has shown mercy and protection. This week as I have been pushing out of fear and speaking out of faith, my soul has been encouraged. It is not of me but of God. He knew. He knew me. God remained faithful.

Proverbs 19:21~
Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails.

JOY

I LOVE that God uses our pains for truth! Did you ever notice that when God turns around our situations, and uses them for the good of helping others, we aren't usually helping them avoid those struggles rather we are helping them find hope amidst their storm. Everyone has to come to their own truths in God's time. I am humbled that I can be used to spur that on.....and I am sooo greatly thankful for the ones that have spurred me on too. We can share in each others sufferings and then we get to share in the resulted JOY that comes after the storm:)

It's the overflow, of a forgiven soul. And now we see you, God. Our hearts cannot stay silent! ~matt redman

joyfuljones.com (a blog about JOY after pain:)

Dancing generation

Rebirth.

Wow. I just stumbled upon this site that had a beautiful picture that made me stop. It was of a young woman facing forward, walking into a field. She wore a beautiful flowing dress of white. The field was not a field of grass but a field of tulips. Strong, tall, healthy tulips. She was walking into the sun and towards a beautiful horizon, tulips parting as she went.
This picture immediately made me think of my last post. Of an orphan girl. This girl was alone but she was shining. Strong. Owned.....

Humble

When I was in the shower this morning (a place where it is quiet), I saw a picture in my mind's eye. A picture of a little girl. She was too young to be alone but she was alone. She had her back to a big old white house and she was wearing rags. Her feet were bear and her skin was filthy dirty. I don't know if she was an orphan but she felt like it.
She started to walk away from that house and I knew where she was going. It was raining and she took off her ragged clothes. Left them there. In a heap. She walked naked and ashamed, through that rain, further into the field of grass. The rain was cleansing her. Her tears washed away in it. She walked until she no longer felt shame.....

drawn out of the dark

I am saddened this morning by a number of posts this morning on friend's blogs. I had a whole post written yesterday and just deleted it...and now I see why. It came out all wrong. It was just for me.
I am not feeling hopeless reading these posts though. I just snuck out of that place and I am still smirking. I do know though that everything will be drawn out that is not of God and that you will have to walk through that place. There is no alternate path. But (and I mean big but) there is no fear in God. Sit still in that place and spew it all out to God. He is not afraid of your anger, nor does he ignore your cries. When your children cry in that much pain do you say, "stop crying you worthless child." I know I don't. I say, "You're okay...mommy's here...and mommy loves you."
God keeps reaffirming two things to me and it has stirred a tidal wave in my life this week. (And this was after drawing out all those pains back to six years old.) And those things are this....I have engraved you on the palm of my hand...and....forgive. Forgive yourself. It okay I AM is here and I love you......

The big He.

I have a humble smile on my face. It looks like peace. My eyes are shining. The eyes of my heart are open. A truth is this, that good and evil are not equal. God created and God is in control. I can feel that. God loves me more than more. I once worked with YWAM in the Philippines and I like the way their language expresses this. Mahal na mahal kita.....I love love you. Sometimes we have to hear it twice. I love you. No really, hear me.....I love you. I have been praising for days. My blog has been changing for awhile. I am excited to see this fruition in my life. I can't wait until I am surrounded by more that have walked this same path...up to the mountain. I am standing there with my face turned upward and HE is kissing my eyelashes.  
Mahal na mahal kita LORD.

Majesty(Here I am) - Delirious

A testimony of Grace....

Just over a year and a half ago, God brought me back to this town. I didn't want to come here. My husband rerouted us here. But I knew in my heart that God rerouted us. This place, and this church, has been a place of pain for me. But God has been restoring. Where my spirit was broken and where my soul was sick. In our woman's group, Mom's Time Out, we have been doing a Beth Moore study of Esther called It's Tough Being a Woman. It was an amazing study of wisdom and truth. At the end of it I felt like I would be free of my anxiety. I was waiting...
About a month ago I had a dream that a woman who was very dark and had see-through blue eyes had come in the night. She was fear itself. This spirit of fear had me up against the wall and was pressing my heart with her fist to suffocate my life out of me. I knew that this was what was happening in reality.
About two weeks ago, I had start to feel like I was going to die. I couldn't breathe and I knew it was NOT just physical sickness.
On Thursday I went for prayer counselling. God showed me places where I had to forgive, and not only that but that he had forgiven me. I had never left God but I felt like my prayers didn't count anymore. In that meeting the LORD said to my very being, "I AM YOURS, AND YOU ARE MINE. IT IS NOT TOO LATE." And I really feel the need to share this testimony, not only to praise God that he is healing me even in my imperfection, but I know that I am not the only "grown up youth" that had left this church in pain. God is restoring. He wants to say, "I AM YOURS. YOU ARE MINE. IT IS NOT TOO LATE."

PSALM 103.

Mexican prayer vigil

I am smiling again this morning. I just read a little note from a friend. There are a bunch of friends and family over in Mexico. This happens every year around here. They all fly south around February.
Anyways, the note was about the prayers that they had joined in as I had told them I was going in for it. The prayers match the ones that happened on this part of the world. I am not surprised. I know God already. I am just smiling. Confirmation is fun.
What I am surprised in is that forgiveness was such a big part of this healing process. Not because I didn't know it counted but I just didn't realize where I was holding onto things. Even the little ones that surrounded situations. I think I rationalized the heck out of all my pains, found the truths, but forgot to get over it. Held onto it so that people would know why I was this way. Haha. There is a revelation for you. Hold on to why you are that way and you will stay that way. And there is the truth for my morn.


-> And on a side note. This makes me think of a friend. Friend. The big He loves you. Not only that but you are his. He chose you first. And everyone can tell when they look at you. No one sees an abandoned little girl. Everyone sees a woman of God. One that has chosen all things good in her relationships despite all things and who raises her children wisely and with good intent. You are a leader and God will bring you through. Why. Because he has big plans for you. And when you are ready it will all sink in. Just passing it on....he told me yesterday. I love you.

The LORD is Gracious and Compassionate

The LORD is gracious and compassionate
Slow to anger, and rich in love
The LORD is gracious and compassionate
Slow to anger, and rich in love

And the LORD is good to all
He has compassion on all that he has made

As far as the east is from the west
That's how far
He has removed his transgressions from us
As far as the east is from the west
That's how far
He has removed his transgressions from us

Praise the LORD, O, my soul
Praise the LORD
Praise the LORD, O, my soul
Praise the LORD


1998 Vineyard Songs
Words and music by Graham Ord

Casting Crowns - East To West (Live) from Altar and the Door

Joy

I am there.
God said, "YOU ARE MINE <3." And I heard him and understood. It is NOT too late. You can't be disowned. You don't get to pick your family. He is my family. I am yours LORD.....
I can feel the warm wind again. I have passed the death. I have walked the rutty field. I am standing on the edge of a giant crevasse. I am not afraid to fall off. I might jump off even. There is nothing there but God.
I can run now. I can scream out loud. I can take my time on the trail down. You will hear me singing. A song that comes from my soul.
But really. I had prayer counselling this morning. I had to. I felt like I was about to die.
I say to my kids often, "Do you know how much I love you?"....."Big, big big big Big big love:)" It is like that.   

A basket of quilt scraps.

I am gathering all my sufferings in a basket. I am turning them into a quilt. Of all the scraps I will make something beautiful. Bright and warm. It will be able to cover not only me but others. I will be able to say, "I know how you feel, but God is bigger, stronger." I will know more then and be aware of the threads that God has sewn together. To heal. To hold it all together. To hold me together. I will be of greater character. Not proud, humble. Not a know it all, but wise. Not muscular, strong inside. And my eye wrinkles will show around eyes that shine with the knowledge that God is truth. He cannot lie. I was only lying in myself. In my weakness. And then God will use me. I won`t fear.
I can see myself in a house in the middle of a field, on a small hill. With family surrounding me. Children the age I am now and babes that are mine but not from my womb. And I will have fellowship there with old and young. We will teach each other the ways of the LORD. I will not forget and the good fruit will be hidden no more. My sorrow will have subsided and my joy will be greater. For greater is he that is in me....

The LORD is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. Psalm 103:8.

This doctor still makes house calls.

I am almost ready. To let go. My greatest fear is my family. I am angry that I feel no one has ever loved or protected me. It may not be true but I am still mad. I am ready to let it go. I don't want to fight or blame. I don't blame. We are all people. We all have reasons. I have reasons. Now it needs to be fixed. To move forward. To not be controlled by outsiders. To encourage. To uplift. To free.
I started this post yesterday and then my bests came and kicked me out of my house to make dinner for me. I walked, in the cold, over crusted snow....I could've walked forever. I am really sick right now. I have never really been this bad...maybe before but without kids. It is so worse with my poor babes. They don't need a sick mamma. They don't really know. Maybe just a little. They give me more cuddles and longer ones.
I have been handed books. There is a stack on my quilt cupboard. I just want someone to tell me what to do. I am overwhelmed with thoughts of what to do. I am fighting but quietly. I am scared. I don't need to be. Or at least I hope not.
By the end of this month, I am going to be better...and not just better, free. This is my prayer. Then I can see over that mountain side. I'm am sure there is a lake on the other side. One that I can jump in. Joy returned.....

The war.

I have come to a strange spot on that old mountain plateau. I am dredging through water and weeds. Before me are others that had come to try and reach a creek to drink, but there was a war. They lost. They lie there lifeless. I have to walk over them if I am going to survive. I have to decide how that will happen. This is such a strange place. It was hidden. There is no wind. It is just damp and foggy. I can't see my way out and that is frightening....so frightening that everyone can tell. And they all prayed for me last night. And I slept. I hope today the damp doesn't chill me so much. Then I can see past this place of death, to that untouched water source that will heal.
My friend woke up this morning and sent me this:
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4.
And I know the rest...I think I will take it literally this morning.....
 

Childline.

I grew up in the Okanagan. Born and raised as a child. Beautiful BC. With beaches and family.
We lived near the downtown core but on a newly developed road. My paternal grandma and grandpa lived two blocks away. I loved to ride my bike down to their house and spend time with my grandma. I remember chatting and making beds up for her kids that were still at home. I am the oldest of all the grandchildren on both sides and my parents are both oldest children. My uncle was ten when I was born. I named my daughter for her, Cecilia. 
My maternal grandparents lived up the hill on the other side of the lake and we spent a fair amount of time there too. My grandma was raising my cousins and therefore we all were the best of friends. They lived next to a bible camp and we had free rang out there and around the property. There was a toboggan hill out back of the camp in the winter and at Christmas, us cousins would trek out across the camp and up the toboggan hill. In the summer, fall, and spring, we climbed trees and played in a small playhouse that my grandpa had built. I remember that us cousins had gone out on the hill, a road beside the driveway that ran the length of the property and the farm below, and took each for ourselves a little red and white tricycle. We took off down the hill and those trikes would go so fast that our feet would fly off. We had to turn down the road by the farm or else we were destined for the main road. We had so much fun. At dinner when we held hands and my grandpa said prayers over dinner, my cousin and I would be holding in giggles and we had our own little code for when we wanted to convince my mother to let me stay the night.
The bible camp was affiliated with a church in town and my mother took us there as her duty until I was six. At that point her second cousin started a church on our side of the lake and we went there instead. At this church I felt joy. I knew God for real at six. He was always there and always with me, to this day. At that point I remember that my mom took me everywhere with her . To church at night, to baby showers, to bible study. I loved to tag along and sit with the adults. I rarely wanted to stay home. My kids are the same way.
There were some problems at home around this same time. I had nightmares regularly and was shy. I had my best friend next door and a few down the street. I cherished my few good friends. We rode bikes all over, my favorite thing to do. I am still in touch with that best and she recently had her first babe.
I remember my parents fighting some and something that sticks out in my mind is one time at the dinner table when my two brothers were telling my dad that they hated him. I didn't like that one bit and decided that I was going to be on his side. I was. I prayed for him to know God like I did, everyday for years. He met Him later on when I was a teenager.
When I was almost finished elementary school, my dad was laid off from a mine that had closed. We moved at that point. I found my place very quickly in that small town. And I had decided that being a Christian was a very serious thing. My few good friends that I found knew Him too. I think that move saved me in many ways. I was always glad to be in that place when I heard of my old friends being into drugs. He brought us there. In that place is where my childhood ended and the teenage years began. And so ends the part of my timeline from when I was a child.
 

100 years is nothing in light of eternity

I am losing it. I am wondering if I am going to need some medication soon. It has been really bad. I really don't want to. And yes I haven't been getting much good sleep and no I haven't been getting out of the house alone either. I can know how to make life a bit better but planning it out is a nightmare. I would rather stay home and pray for bedtime to come quickly. This is making my filter broken again. I have been sick but not really sick, just lingering on sick. I have to keep convincing myself that I am not dying. I can't breathe and I can't tell if it is from the anxiety or from a secret life taking illness. That might sound funny and insane but at moments throughout the day, I CAN'T BREATHE.
I was just getting ready to write my timeline. I couldn't really leave the bad out but I had decided to put it all in there, good and bad. How the two might have affected each other even. As soon as I see light I feel the darkness pounding down harder. I think I need some major prayer. I fear that it is not only my war, and someone else is letting in the enemy. I just need to think that good change must be coming. I can't live with these ups and downs. I get high and then fall too far. My body is aching. My mind is foggy. I need some comfort, hope, and joy.

The runner.

I feel like running. In heaven I am going to be a runner. My tired body is going to be released and I am going to run. Like Forest Gump. HAha. It is because I have been stuck in this house for too long. I am exhausted and I want to run. Doesn't make much sense does it. But my mind starts racing and then I want to run.
I used to walk this town at dusk, years ago. I would walk this town of hills until I sorted things out and was too tired to walk anymore. Then I would drag myself home. I am not complaining. I am just needing to go. Just needing to be. Just be. In quiet. Breathing fresh air. Trusting God to sort things out. I think that running is like a silent screaming. Good thing writing is like running on the spot.

broken church

I think that our church should change it's name to: "We Don't Care What Denomination we are, We just are, in Him, Church on the MOUNTAIN." I know it's long but it would be suiting.
The family of Christians that attend my home church are made up of people that have been thrown and chosen to move from one location, with different pastors, to another. There has been a cult-like pentecostal church, a baptist church, a home group, a church plant, and another pentecostal church. There has been a pastor that was a liar, one that left and then left his wife, and one who was voted out for no good reason that I can see, among others. Everyone has been hurt and everyone has moved around. But now everyone co-exists in a building shared. It is all still the same family. The same people. They are still overcoming. And there is change. I think that God is calling back the broken youth that are now grown up and have families of their own. I am one of those. We are all slowly trickling in.
A few years back, all of these people who stayed in this town, came together. At first for two separate services by two denominations. Then they joined to one. Now in jest some call themselves bapti-costals.
God has restored. He is rebuilding. I love this family.
The only thing now that I see....that struck me on Sunday morning, were the young woman, standing alone. Not many of my bests has a God-fearing man by her side (at least not here). Some have Christian husbands, some don't, and some have altogether left their husbands. All of us mothers with beautiful children. Raising the next generation to know our faithful God.... alone. I think not. I am waiting. This change will come too......

Third Day seems to be the pick of the month;)

humbled in God's presence.

This morning I am humbled. By a woman the same as me. But different. She was abused. She is broken. She is like me but more. I am humbled. My eyes are open. I see now where my God had his hand over me. I was abused but it ended. It was not a huge fearful place for me. I was young and realised the wrong and even though the other had pushed on, it ended right there. And there was no fear. There is fear in many things for me, but here no fear. That is big. God had his hand in this I am sure. My lot was drawn but God turned the tables. And I am humbled.
I have always been able to find the truths, to find the lesson, in all that has happened, but never in this lot. Now I know. It was just a lot. But my God turned it around.
That same year I had found him. This is where he took over. This is where I gave him control. At six. And he has had his hand in everything since then.
I have been sword fighting on this mountain plateau for weeks. I am thankful for a new truth.

My sword:
Keep me safe, oh God, for in you I take refuge.
I said to the LORD, "You are my Lord, apart from you, I have no good thing."
As for the saints who are in the land, they are the glorious ones in whom is all my delight.
The sorrows of those will increase who run after other gods.
I will not pour out their libations of blood or take up their names on my lips.
LORD, you have assigned for me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.
I will praise the LORD, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me.
I have set the LORD always before me.
Because he is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.
Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body will also rest secure, because you will not abandon me to the grave, nor will you let your Holy One see decay.
You have made know to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.
~ a miktam of David, Psalm 16

Alphabet Soup

I need to get out and run...or maybe walk.
I am out of shape.

I need to take my friend Katie's lead and get off this damn computer. (She wouldn't say damn).

I need to create.

I love this fabric that I have bought to make a gorgeous green wall hanging, to go on the bare curtain rod that is across my kitchen wall.

I put up the curtain rod at Christmas to display a very treasured gift- a Christmas Tree Rag quilt from my 58 year old best, Diane.

I bought this genius book, Alphabet Soup, online.

I smile when I look at this colorful book.

I don't like following full patterns much and am not an expert quilter.

I can take the alphabet patterns they give and create a great family heirloom.

I want to quilt out our last name.....and maybe try out some applique. Here we go......

On a mission.

I am going to get out another "to do" on my mind's log today. My great aunt who is a missionary in Barranquilla, Columbia had contacted me today. I hear from her every once in awhile.
Her mother had given me a lovely letter years ago that she had written about her life. She has passed now but this letter inspired me at one point to collect a few more of these type of writings from women in my family. One of these woman was her daughter in law, my grandmother. The next, my mom. Today I thought that I would ask my auntie Ruby as well. While in the shower I thought to myself...maybe I can ask my auntie Sandy, who is my mothers sister. Then, my paternal grandmother. I am on a mission to contact each of these and ask for their stories. I want to compile for myself from each of these people who have influenced my life greatly. Oh, and I can ask my cousin Ashley who was one of my best friends when I was younger.
Anyways, my mind is whirling with thoughts now. I have also had stories of my own that I want to blog about from my childhood....and then there is that timeline that I am still pondering....
My name is not Serene by the way. It is Tara. Serene is my middle name. It means quiet. It was a way of being more hidden when I started this anonymous blog, which is not so anymore.
Tara means strong tower. Sometimes is can mean rocky hill. Either way, I am all of these....

Prayer: My soul's favorite passtime.

When I ask for prayer it is because I mean it. I know it works. I trust my God. I don't however trust myself. When I am riding out the storm, I know that if someone could just pray, the waters would die down. Then I can just float around, laying low in my vessel until I hit ground again. I am okay today.....someone must have prayed. It wards off my demons. I can feel them out there but they can't touch me. Thank you.

Third Day rocks.

Another babe sick. It is different though. He is older and can tell me what's wrong. And he is throwing up. I am not scared of that in the most part. It is not a hidden sickness. It is horrible and then done. Fevers are a different story.
I left the house for a bit and went to a bests house. I always have music playing on my van stereo. It helped my soul for the short drive. So soothing. I have learned that it can bring the hope back. It is warfare. A good pounding worship song. Not sing-songy but deep and raw. The verse, "....put on the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness," had hit me one time. I had all of a sudden understood what it meant. That you can fight your way out of the dark by uplifting your soul.
www.thirdday.com/songs/follow-me-there
Here's a song that I love. Maybe not a warfare song but uplifting. Makes me want to run in a field. Smile. Wink.

Crushing.

Please pray for me. Now please. I feel nauseous with anxiety. The morning is barely gone. All week was bad more than good. I can't find peace today. I feel overwhelmed.
I feel like giving up. Like burrowing in this deep hole instead of getting up. My limbs are so tired and I can't stand. I am feeling everything in dramatic echoes. I can't handle Gemma being sick. I can't handle my body being unhealed still from too many pregnancies. I can't handle not being the one who can overcome these things and be healthier. I want to figure out all sickness and fix it. But I can't.
Supposedly it all has to do with sleep. For me. More sleep equals happier and healthier. Can it be just that. A teething baby can drive one to insanity. Maybe. My counsellor has dropped me to once a month. Great. That was helping. That was giving me an escape. That was letting me drive away in silence. She was helping me to rationalize and normalize my thoughts. It seems if I don't make an appointment out of it, I don't get a break.
My husband suggested that I could do what I love and craft away (to make some money and get a break). I wonder if that would be a break......either way, I need to make some creative appointments for myself. I will write it on the calendar.
Reality is blurring again. My filter is messed up. I can`t handle unwell children. It makes me feel like I don`t want to be a mom anymore. Like I can`t be responsible for my sick babies. Please someone take over and make the decisions for me so I don`t mess up. So I don`t have to watch my innocent babes struggle through life. The feeling turning in my stomach is reminiscent of when you are young and you do something terribly wrong. Except I didn`t do anything wrong. I am fighting for all good. It is unfortunate. My greatest hope has been motherhood.
So, I am sick right now. Because my babe is sick. Relapsed into darkness. I am sure when everything settles I will find my hope again.

A glimpse of change.

 
 
 

I didn't really want to expose my children on this dark blog. I didn't even want myself on here. It isn't so dark anymore. Here's a sample. My kids are beautiful. The most gorgeous kids I have I ever seen. They are smart too.
And me. I am a "normal" mom. In great love with her kids. Busy with playgroups, preschool, and grocery shopping. Most of my posts are from an exhausted, "I am not overcoming my anxiety anymore" place. Late at night. I often have felt the need to write in pieces throughout the day. But I can't get a moment often. Mornings are usually rushed but hopeful, ambitious even. Early afternoons are filled with naps and late afternoons, with chaos. Bedtimes are sweet. Filled with prayers and cuddles. Then comes a mother's quiet time. So quiet that thoughts can race out in the open spance of silence. By then I am shaking with exhaustion from fighting with myself throughout the day. Then I write. And read. And process.
I told my friend once that I put the kids to bed, have an anxiety attack, and then watch some TLC. I am not even lying. I can find humor in that though. Sometimes I find fear that it will never get better, but it is changing. Thanks for the input out there. I am always up for a comment, if not cruel. I can reevaluate my thoughts at any point so throw some of your truths at me once in awhile. <3

Born ruined

That title was from a song I was listening to this morning. This day has been like three months. I am exhausted. I forced myself to go out tonight. I had a long week. A bad week. My kids have been sick. Oh yeah, you already know. I went to my counselling appointment today. After months of not (because of holidays and then bad weather). I cried on the way in out of frustration, and relief, and quiet.
When I got home my sweet boy cleaned up all by himself. Willingly. I declared how proud of him I was. I praised him and told him that it made my heart so happy that he did that. He said, "mom, I know, God told me that." I believe him. I know God. I have had a bad week.
This statement, so pure, brings tears to my eyes. If I only had one good moment, I would relish it to be this, that my children would know their God. That they would know that HE IS loving. That they would know that when you are low, HE sends relief in ways that blindside you as much as your pain. That when he seems silent, he is only waiting for you to give up your fight and let HIM work. He won't move until you choose him.
The second thing that I am pondering is this. Why do we keep all things painful to ourselves. Not only the subjects that shame us, but also the ones that we could do nothing about or are unfortunate in nature. Why do we "not bother anyone", and "don't gossip about that", and "keep out of theirs and our business". Seriously. I don't get it all. I find it that I am more comfortable with the friends that will tell me truths. The blunt ones...I think that I have mentioned this before. I find compassion in details. Don't you. I don't mean right out talking about everything to everyone. I have a group of bests that I feel like I can share anything with, and that I wouldn't mind them talking about my issues too if it is encouraging and normalizing someone else's reality. I don't think that is gossiping. Is it? I am confused on the whole subject and need to find my truth in that one.
I had been rolling around my thoughts about a certain friend out loud to a best, because I knew that she would keep it private and help me come to a conclusion. It did help me conclude and understand why she may have done things the way that she did. Then this friend told me more about her problems, not only, but about her pain. Heart talk. When the kids get busy playing on their own you can hear it. It changed my thinking about the whole situation. I had already rationalized compassion but this made it real. Maybe that was the God part. I had given it up and I was ready to hear the truth. The ugly cry truth. It shouldn't take ten...twenty years and a therapist to get the ugly cry out. Just spit it out. Empty. Look at your friend that didn't leave at the sight of you. And be there for her turn.

P.S.

I am expecting a breakthrough on the issue of fear, anger, and impatience (which I am sure are all related), very soon in my life. I have prayed for it and I feel it coming. I will jump off the edge when God pushes me.

Sick babies, restless night.

My babe was sick last night. Started to cry in his bed and them I heard him throwing up everywhere. He came to our bed to sleep but I couldn't sleep. My little girl was also fevering in a toddler bed up against the wall. I hate these days. I think to myself that I never want any more kids because I can't bear the thought of them not being able to tell me what's wrong and suffering. It consumes me. I can't help it. I overcome and then I sleep so that it doesn't come back. My husband, who never snores, was snoring loudly and my little babe was snoring right in tune with him. It was rather sweet but the sounds wouldn't let me sleep.
I finally slept after hours but then had a horrible dream. I dreamt that someone had gotten into the house and I had to protect my boy. I was also trying to help my other babe and couldn't do both at the same time. I ran back to my boy and stood against the wall. He was out of the way and in the background. This dark, light eyed woman with a stocky build approached me spewing. I recognised her but was not sure where from. She grasped my shoulder and put out her fist. She was fear itself. She evenly came at me with her powerful arm straight to my heart. She was pushing and watching me straight on with intent to kill me. Just pressing my heart not suffocating just stopping its beating. Crushing me. It was painful and I was trapped. I knew I had to get out of her grasp for my children's sake.....
My dreams are always so meaningful to me. I was processing. I knew the front door had been left unlocked. I was trying to balance a sick babe and a feverish little girl. I was trapped in the tight fist of fear. It is painful. I do have to get away from it for my children's sake.

vanity fair

I like reading the back page of Vanity Fair, and yes I often/sometimes start at the back of a magazine. It is a questionnaire....
I will now give it to myself....
What is your idea of perfect happiness?
--> A piece of land with a farmhouse on it. Picture rolling hills or a lake. Having a huge family. Sitting out in the yard by the campfire, at dusk. Sharing stories, and laughter, and singing along with the acoustic guitar.
Which living person do you most admire?
--> Beth Moore.
What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
--> Fear and impatience.
What is the trait you most deplore in others?
 --> Being judgmental, and crass.
What is your greatest extravagance?
--> Quilt material, and Starbucks Caramel Machiattos.
What is your favorite journey?
--> The one that leads me home.
What do consider the most overrated virtue?
--> Minding your own business. (When it comes to friends and family only)
On what occasion do you lie?
--> To protect someone I love.
Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
--> "That is ridiculous."
What is your greatest regret?
--> Anytime I didn't say what I needed to, and the moment then passed. (I love yous and apologies included)
What or who is the greatest love of your life?
--> My God, my husband, my children.
When and where were you happiest?
--> At the birth of each of my children.
What is your current state of mind?
--> Hopeful, anxious, exhausted.
What is your favorite occupation?
--> Homemaking, "missions" work (aka, reaching out to people)
What is the quality you most like in a person?
--> Honesty.
What do you most value in your friends?
--> Openness and truthfulness.

I like this. And I like to sit at my kitchen table and read in the sunshine. I like to pray on my bed in the night. I like to walk at dusk. I like to sit under the stars. I could stare at a body of water for hours. I like to feel the burn of the sun as it kisses my skin. I like the power of a summer wind as it warms my soul. I like to search the meanings of names. I like to make up my own quilt pattern. I am changed when cuddling my sleeping babes. I like to worship on my own. I need to sit for coffee with my friends once a week at least. I love when the conversation turns to heart matters. And most of all, I love how God can turn a burden into a joy.

venting

I feel defeated. I am seriously mad. I don't know what or who I am directly angry at but I want to cry I am so mad.
My daughter, who is two, is allergic to milk. I am not sure how allergic but she immediately breaks out into hives if she even touches cheese or the like. One time at a friend's house, she broke out even after we had gone lengths to make sure she had a diary free meal. We figured out that she washed with the same cloth that the boys had wiped their kraft dinner hands on.
I had found this allergy when I gave her her first food. It was rice cereal. Step one pablum. It had skim milk powder in it. Hives from her nose to her chest. We gave her lactose free formula and stuck to the cereals that needed breastmilk or formula added because they lacked dairy. We didn't really worry about breads and such but made sure she has never had raw diary.
She got sick at one and a half and it made it worse. She had a bladder infection and her immune system broke down. She continued to get sick and developed an allergy to sulpha antibiotics. We took her off all milk and put her on soy. I started reading the ingredients on everything, which adds to my stress let me tell you. She got more urinary tract infections and I had to change way of doing things even more. The way she bathed- no more baths, only showers. I even change her diaper every night in order to avoid having a wet diaper too long. Some people don't remember, or don't take seriously enough, her allergy in my opinion. The poor girl has little bumps all over her arms and cheeks. She often has a distended belly. And then she poops a huge diaper full of rancid sandlike poop. I think this is actually what causes her infections. She gets sick. She gets sicker. Reset. I am hoping she grows out of this. I am planning on potty training here soon and I am taking her to a dietitian and then a allergist. She has already seen a urologist but I am trying to avoid any traumatic things. She has already had a blood test. That was traumatic for us both. I am fearing now that she has a UTI again but she doesn't tell me. I think she is use to it. Even her body is use to it and no longer fevers. That is a good thing. Fevers scare me. They are uncontrollable.
This all isn't really so bad if everyone follows the rules. This is the reason I am so mad at the moment. I can't seem to let it go so I am writing it out. Venting and then I'll be done. I don't know if this allergy will be the type that she grows out of or the kind that develops into worse symptoms. I don't want to test theories of different doctors right now. I don't know what will happen if she ingests diary. I am trying to teach her to use her words instead of crying and screaming. For now she wouldn't be able to articulate what is bothering her.
This morning I brought her a little bowl of berries with sugar sprinkled on it, because I knew that there was going to be treats that she couldn't have with butter or milk in them. Everyone who watches the kids (this is at playgroup) knows about her allergy and are pretty good about it. I came out of our mom's study class to find a cheese stick right on top of her container and one beside. My mamma bear started to show. It was a little ugly. I am so frustrated. A kid probably did this or at least I would hope so. How can I ever let go. This is not the first time this has happened. How can I learn to trust people around me, that I know, that care, to ever give me a break of body and of mind, when I have to worry about these kind of issues. If there was any slight chance their children would be harmed wouldn't they take precautions. I do. I care about my kids in every detail. I care enough to let it go so that they aren't afraid. To know that God is in control and she was nowhere near her treat covered in dairy. She was at a different table eating dairy free crackers. Okay, there. I can breathe a little.
Please be careful and thoughtful with my kids folks. I love them beyond what is imaginable and I don't want to turn into a person who puts fear into my children. I don't want them to be sheltered and afraid. I want to let them be free to play, to learn, to grow.
Keiran has started having issues with milk too. My God help me........

eyewrinkles and eyelash kisses

I feel the need to clarify. I have skirted around some issues because they are private in type. I hate when things are untrue, as you all know, and are misunderstood. So here it is. The untold story.
My husband, back in the day, did not choose me. I chose him. I had given up and had said Lord I just want a boyfriend. Nothing else. Nothing serious. Nothing in the realm of I can see myself marrying you. Just a companion. I was so done.
When I was twenty my world fell. I have never ever walked away from God but I have felt the coldness of the church. I think it was for a purpose. I found Garry when I was 21. I have wanted to look back on my journal for awhile now and share something that I wrote when I was twenty. I wanted to look and see where I was since I am in the midst of treading new grounds.

A journal entry of mine from September 24th, 1999....I pray God would challenge me to grow in depth of character. I long to be fruitful in him. To strive for truth and purity. To be joyfully passionate to reach out in everything. I feel like Proverbs 14:13 often. Even in laughter the heart may ache, and joy may end in grief. I want that aching to be not of me, but for the lost and broken. I desire to be a person who is broken and compassionate in humility......

I am amazed as I look back amazed at I look back at some of these pages. At what I have become. My eyes are open. Of course. I always say that I don't believe in coincidence.

July 23rd, 2000 (just because I like this one).....LIFE IS NOT MADE UP OF PERFECTION, IT'S MADE UP OF CHOICES. OF GIVING INTO HOPES OR FEARS. TEARS CAN BE GOOD OR SORROWFUL- ONLY YOUR HEART WILL BE ABLE TO TELL YOU. Only God knows your heart........

September 4th, 2000.....I am in a place. Here my eyes shift around the room. My eyes reflect my thoughts. My thoughts reflect my heart. I search this room for a door. A door that will open to a concrete road. There is no such road. For concrete is made by man. God has made a road of clay. A clay road which can be molded. To deepen character. To deepen trust. This road screams out. Life. Choices. Dreams. Desires. Tears. Joy unspoken. Gritted teeth. Shining eyes. Overwhelming revelations. Fears pushed aside. Heart struggles. Cries out loud. Silently surrendering. Growing. Planting. Shoveling dirt. Picking out rocks. Rejoicing in the journey. Looking back with peace. My road is only beginning. Which door will I choose. In this place. A path on which to fix my eyes upon. Soft clay......

How's that for a nineteen year old's inner thoughts.

December 16th, 2000 (my twentieth birthday would be December 22nd, 2000).....I sit here holding back the tears. Longing to die. Counting one more loss, yet hoping for a miracle before my sick heart falls under the water. Oh, if only I could breathe in the depths to save me from this fucking harsh sorrow. It is unending. If only my fears wouldn't come to life so often. If only a hope would be fulfilled.............I want to be free. Free from fear. Free from disappointment. I want to be joyful again. I want to be embraced when tears fall. I want my forehead and eyelashes to be kissed every night by a man who loves me. I want to be known as a woman of God. I want to once say how I really feel. I want it to be okay that I'm upset, mad, frustrated. I want to be listened to. I want to be favored in the eyes of God and men. I want God to bring me home..........I wish I could scream it out. All of it. From the childhood beginning. God I want to come home. God. My God I pray that I won't want to die......

I was really sick. At the depths of despair. Sitting in the bathtub for hours, wishing I could plunge to heaven.
That year I disconnected. I was clawing my way out but I kept sliding down. I was drawn to a place that I now see I needed to go. I couldn't find a friend in the church. Not one. Only a few friends (some Christian and some not) that begged me to come out to the bar. I was terrified of going but could no longer be alone thinking awful thoughts. I have never in the past found myself without close friends. Wherever I have gone I have had three immediate bests. All being purposeful in my life. I found myself drunk one night and after just a couple of drinks because I am small and have never drank in my life. It was great to go out and escape, dancing with my girl friends from work. We got off late and there was nothing else to do anyways that late at night. It became a habit. Anyways, I was drunk and went to an after party with one friend. Her boyfriend's best friend and I kissed, and he pushed for more. I was use to church boys who would listen when you said no. He didn't. But I didn't leave. It wasn't scary. I didn't care anymore after that. The weeks following I had found it soothing to let go. To not be perfect. I called it earning my pain.
Years back I had no choice. When I was six. It is hard to live a pure life knowing that you were never pure. That you had no choice. It was unfair. The situations mirrored each other. I see it clearer now. I had been young and the boy young, when I was six. It wasn't scary. Not a person of power hovering over me. I see now that he was probably a boy who was harmed and brought it to my house. It is so unfair to be so young and for things to be taken from you. I always felt guilty. I have always struggled with knowing things a child shouldn't know. It happened for awhile. I said no and he threatened to tell but then it stopped. I still know this boy. He is as broken as I am I think.
Anyways, my point is not to tell you disturbing things but to set some people straight and bring truth to the surface. Garry was my good decision. He did not ever push me. Not ever take advantage of me. He was just good. He was there. I was done with thinking about marriage and I had asked God for a man. Written a list of things that I wanted him to be. It was Garry. In description of look, and character, and lifestyle. I saw it after and had no doubt he was my husband. But at first he was just, only, my boyfriend. God meets you where you are at.

July 9th, 2003.......Bring on the boat scene. My eyelashes and forehead are content. The eyewrinkles are there. Here is a man who suits me. I can finally sleep........

April 10th, 2004........I only need a ring of promise. No people. Not pretty. Him and I. And God. I am not worried in this moment. Only hopeful. Waiting. It's all I can do. I don't doubt I am here for purpose. Who am I to guess what God will do. Or has done. In my fault. A man. A man not knowing has helped me find peace in God. He is home and I can rest. To step and know there is a resting place. I pray he will know the restorer.........

I am smiling. Remembering that God brought me out. I am now fitting the puzzle pieces but God has already made the puzzle. Thank GOD! There is some truth for you.



---> For those of you who don't know the rest of the story, by choosing him I mean, moving in with him rather quickly, choosing to committ instead of just "run around" with him, and choosing to marry a person who doesn't share my faith.

The fear of untruth.

I hope I am me. Always me. That I push out the parts that I believe and don't yield to the fear. I have always been strong inside but I can be passive sometimes. If I do move, at times, it comes out all wrong. Aggressive. I have been loud lately. Talking alot. I didn't start talking until after I left home. Actually, even after that. Maybe when I became a mom. I am feeling more free and am trying (key word) not to let fear run my life. Although it sadly does. If I took away fear I would have more children, I would go on more trips, I would have more dinner parties, I would leave the house without coming home exhausted. Fear is so encompassing. I feel like I am sixty years old just thinking about it. Maybe eighty even, keeled over, cold. I just want to sleep when I am fighting it. My children won't let me. I am impatient. Why am I so angry.......my husband even asks me this lately. This is where I am right now. In the middle of my fight. Fighting on that plateau- with myself. What a sight. I must look insane. So again, why am I angry. I have many reasons that are sufficient. Not being allowed to feel. Not being protected. Not fought for. Not feeling loved. Having to hold things that were older than my child-self. Being betrayed. Then alone. Then treated lightly. Then losing children. Then forced to sit in fear, nursing one baby, while pregnant with another. Then thrown back to where I never wanted to be. Then mocked by reality. Then left with nothing to soothe my pain but my God. He pulled me out. He is healing me. He has to or I would die. He turned everything. I am still fighting but sometimes he gives me a boost up the mountain or catches me by my pant leg. This post exhausts me and I am in tears....it was inspired by the feelings that welled up as I read a new friends post. I have too much to do today to sit hear balling my eyes out but now it is getting worse. I hate when feelings just come and you wonder where they are coming from. And you can't stop them. I am letting them run. I need to find the root of this anger. This fear. I need it to stop. I can't breathe. I am tripping. I am only human. But truth is truth and God is God.

I feel, I wish, I am.

I feel way older than I am. Or at least I have most of my life. It is evening out for me as I actually get older. People always use to say I was mature for my age. I think I was born in the wrong era. I should have been born in a simpler time. Where you stay home and have lots of babies. Where girls marry young. Where you learn to cook, quilt, and garden. Where the tasks of the day keep your body firm and strong.
I wish I could run. I would love to buck up enough to be a runner. I have at times in my life but I don't feel for real strong. I imagined having time as a mom to have an exercise routine. Who was I kidding, I can't even pee in peace. I like biking too but I live in a town of all hills.
I am a mom and wife. I am a quilter and scrapbooker. I am a friend that likes to connect and hates to let go. I am a daughter and a sister. I have brothers. I have been collecting sister in laws lately. I love babies. I wanted to have like seven. I am at three. I am opinionated but rather compassionate for circumstance if you tell me your plight. I like to talk in pictures, to my husband's irritation. I was trained as an teacher of English as a second language. I never used it. I like language and love to learn when I am immersed in another culture. I once was immersed in the Philippines...twice actually. I would like to learn photography and piano. I play guitar. I learned guitar because I loved to sing. I am quiet in a crowd.

painted body

I got a new tattoo the month I was turning thirty. I got my first one when I was in the middle of a painful rebellion of sorts. I got the word "grace" etched under it (it being a Canadian Flag) the next year. My lion covers both. I wanted it for a long time and now was no longer pregnant or breastfeeding (after like five years of being so), so I went with four friends and got it done. I wanted a lion for the death of my children and I also wanted it to be a symbol of my God who brings hope. Since I had dealt with so much of the pain this year, it was very freeing. A rebirth. Of my skin. Haha.  

The quilt cupboard.

I have many things to write about but I am restraining myself. These things involve other people in my life and I can only be honest and forthright about my soul's feelings. I don't want to cause harm or judgement on them.
I do however wish to make my blog a bit more painted. I want to elaborate on my life, or at least myself so that I can broaden the picture of this whole story.

I am in love with blankets. I like to collect them and adore them. I know this may seem strange (and I don't really adore them in a literal sense). I find comfort, and don't collect much other than, quilts and blankets. If they are from someone or sometime that is meaningful, even better. I am also finding that quilting is hobby of choice, although I am amateur. It has a deeper story....it may come from when I was young and slept in a basement room alone. Even as young as six, fear overwhelmed me. My comforter was my protector. I was afraid that something bad would happen and made a plan that if it did, I would pray to God to make my comforter a shield. What childlike faith. And I remember my favorite Christmas present as a teen being a huge plaid comforter. I still have that blanket. And to this day, I sleep with my blanket up around my ear. Anyways, this is one of my favorite quilts- the one I made for my little girl's first bed. 

you sow your own garden

Thirty is strange. Just a number. I think not. I feel like an adult now. I have revisited my past and am in my dreams of young. I just wanted a family. That is it. I am there. And I often shake my head when I stop to think about it. That happened fast.
All around me adult occurrences are happening. Marriage problems, nervous breakdowns, abuse, death. It is all strange. But not damning. It's fascinating to me. The pushes for people to be more than they are being. The devastation that comes before people turn back to God...or to God.
I am in a good change. I am making new dreams for myself. I certainly don't want to start over again- I want to build onto life now. I am going to write a book. I have started in fact. I did have a few ideas but they involve other input that I need to wait for. I found an idea the other night when I should have been getting ready....staring into the bathroom mirror.
I need a kick of energy to match my ambition. I still need to make up Keiran's first year scrapbook, make his toddler quilt, dream up a family wall hanging for the bare curtain rod hanging on my wall (left from Christmas), and make a baby blanket for my new little baby relative to arrive next month. Eeek. Baby's make me so excited. Then there's that. Maybe in the midst of these things I can make myself get back into shape and try this new Tupler Technique to fix my baby tummy...just in time to have another baby, if we decide to. I dunno. Much to think about. Much to dream about. Much to hope for.

A post from my mind's log.

I have reached the top of the mountain folks. It is not jagged and dangerous. And I can't see down the other side. It is a plateau. I can see the skyline of the other side, but not the ground below. Not even close. Not even the path. Just a knotty, muddy field. I can't see the ruts under the inspiring beauty of the blowing wheat grass, and I fall down every so many steps. The wind smells pure. I can run into it but it is still pushing against me. I am stronger. It almost holds me upright as I trek through this field. It is miles across. I am enjoying the view now and don't mind not seeing the other side. I don't need to. It is just me and the wind up here. And expanses of sky. It makes me hopeful. There could be any view over the edge when I reach it and I am hopeful in dreaming about what will be there when I get there......