I love you to the sky.

It's little Mac's day. Happy day babe. <3

a dream, a glimpse, a pirate party

Sometimes I get scared that I won't be able to pull myself out. Sometimes it isn't a matter of climbing out, rather holding on. This too shall pass. I love when God stirs my soul and even though I don't know how a change is coming, I can feel it coming. It is so hard when you are in the middle of it all, to see the path turning. I often find myself getting a little excited when I see a friend that has been struggling and is now at a desperately hard turn. I know that this usually means that something is going to finally change and it will be good because God answers prayer. Those who seek him out will find him. It is hard to remember this when you are the one distressed. It is hard to seek when you are exhausted and battling at every turn.
I know I am probably repeating myself but I have to say all this and that I love fall. It is my favorite season. It always brings good change and stability. I love sweaters and jeans, and warm blankets. I love being surrounded by bests. I love the programs that entertain and bring fellowship for both myself and my children. I am start to feel ambition returning and maybe, just maybe, some rest.
I have been feeling lately that I am out of place. I have been watching the people around me and feeling disconnected. I know I was hiding out this summer, too exhausted to give anything. I am remembering that if I am feeling this way about most everything, then it is time to start reaching out of myself. A giving, encouraging, and friendly spirit always brings more happiness. When I start to call, to say hi, to remember needs, and to push past my depression, I start to feel better. Unforgiveness and bitterness feed depression and anxiety. I long for the way things used to be but they aren't. I can choose to be sad or I can grow relationships into something new. I can be the encourager, the peacemaker.
Oh GOD, let the fruits of your spirit come. More and more.  

remember to cry

God hears your cry. He does. So speak it.
Last night in my prayer journal, I spoke it. "God, ....... I am unbalanced again & on the wrong side. I would rather be unbalanced, leaning into you...." I am not going to tell you my whole prayer but God answered it immediately and confirmed it in the morning. First with the verse, Romans 8:13 ~ For if you live according to the sinful nature, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live. I feel that. Then in the morning a sermon was spoke straight from God's heart, through a man's lips. That sermon was for me. I'm sure others too, but for me. Even personalized. With the verses God gave me when we moved to this town..... I know the plans I have for you....and with verses about fear, which I succumb to so easily.
Today was encouraging. I feel humbled by God's presence and reminded that greater is He that is in me, even though I feel brought down by some who don't know him. But then there are those surrounding me that know God, and I need that fellowship. I can't wait for the fall. It is a time of renewing. A time where it gets cold and we all get close again and remember where our focus is.
I need to remember to love out loud, and to cry out loud.

grrrrrr

I am frustrated. I am trying my hardest to love and care for my kids and I meet resistance. So what if I am over protective... if my kids don't almost drown, don't get sick on cake, don't get so tired that they crash, don't get to run wild until they need stitches. Isn't it my job to protect them. I try my hardest not to smother them but I don't say what the heck, we ate cake until we were sick when we were kids, fell down the stairs until we learned, never wore our seatbelts, and we turned out fine. And these are mild statements. I know some of the parents that wish they just watched their kids a little more. And why is it so bad to care. People get right mad at me. I am so tired of this. I can care for my kids however I choose. And if I don't, I feel like I could die. I can feel my son falling down the stairs, I can see my daughter throwing up from sunstroke.... I don't ponder this. It hits me. Until my heart feels like it will stop.
My husband says I can choose my reality. Sure. I choose to have flash thoughts about driving off a cliff by accident and therefore feeling in reality like I am going to throw up. I sure do love choosing to live like this. It's great. Add sarcasm here. I ask my help, what can I do. The answer is all the things I can't have. You need to sleep.... impossible, with three kids taking turns waking up from growing pains, teething, bad dreams. You need to take time for yourself..... impossible, I come last and have task upon task to do.  Do something for you- that fuels your soul..... I wish, I can't even get a minute to pee half the time. And then there is the fact that I don't feel loved or heard..... add that on to gash away at my soul.
I did get a nap today. It felt great. I appreciated it so much. But then I realized that there were loads of dishes to do now that I slept, that my kids had been back out all day in the sun and were looking a bit sick, that I needed to make dinner since they needed to eat too. Then I had pee laundry to wash and kids to bathe so I could hopefully get their tired little bums to bed early. I get help randomly but mostly I am it. I wouldn't change having my kids for a second. I love them more than life. I just want a break and when I voice that out of a desperate cry not to lose my mind, I feel scorned. I could demand what I need but by then I am too tired. By then I am angry and defeated.

A little sober.

This morning I am sober. Figuratively. I feel a little better. One step ahead is a load off of my shoulders. You would think that past things should be trivial but time doesn't heal. God heals. I don't know why I feel better. It doesn't change anything in the here and now. It almost makes the here and now worse. Almost. But it makes a bit of me better so I guess that is moving in the right direction. I feel a change coming and the month has changed. I love that. I love to turn over the calendar and wait for what's in store for the new days ahead. August is one of my favorite months. It is also the month that I lost MacCrea. August 26th. Six years it would be. That is crazy. I hope that this month it is good. And warm. In the North it is when the fall leaves begin to come. I miss the North this time of year. It is soothing.
Here, I am hoping for warmth. Our fence is almost built and I would love to get a fire pit so we can stay out late in our new yard. It is beautiful and the light post out front keeps the yard lit all night. In daylight the kids can run in their perimeter and we can just sit and enjoy the view.
These things are inspiring and make ambition return. They make me feel creative. Yesterday I wrote in my prayer journal instead of a third post. Some things you can only express to God. He won't misunderstand you because he knows your heart. And then came the scripture... Psalm 103 over and over. I am not feeling strong lately but God always reminds me that He is. Anyways, now to wait and see what's in store for the month. I do know that there is a new babe on the way in our extended family. This makes my heart happy. I have some quilting to do....

Bittersweet.

My friend's are my cloud of witnesses. Surrounding me on this weird day. An unspoken protection. Maybe even subconsciously. I love this. I didn't realize it right away. I see it now. I love my friends.
And today was definitely a strange one of sorts. Not over yet but in a moment I think today has been a change. I felt it. I think I might have contributed to this. I sent a small message. Just a random thought of correction. It had huge meaning. It feels nice. It is like the part where you say, "I'm sorry and I love you," and then you breathe tears and then you hug.  Now I am really putting myself out there for those of you who know what I am talking about. And I am not meaning to be inappropriate at all. I will cling to reality in these thoughts.
Have you ever seen that show, There's Something About Earl? Where he goes to the people he has wronged in the past and tries to fix it all. He can't, and it goes all wrong. But in the end there is a change and it is better. It is like that.

Holy mess.

I can't even begin to sort through the waves of emotion crashing over me. I am such a mess. I long to grab hold of the tide that will pull me out, away from the rocks. I might just fall head-on, over the rocks and be drug under water. Why is it so hard for me to make the decisions I want to make, if only in my heart.
I wonder if I had fixed up these feelings a long time ago, then maybe I wouldn't be in a raging storm. But I know that probably isn't true. It doesn't matter. I have a love/hate relationship with trials. I love them for learning me to be better. I hate them for the wicked scars that remind me.
At this point I am standing at the edge. This is an extremely dangerous place. It looks pretty in spots, but the rocks are just below the surface. Their powerful jagged edges saying, "this is no place to jump in...." They echo their words as a warning. I stand at the edge for hours. For days. Contemplating consequence. Contemplating how I care either way. I long to care. Then I am tired and long not to care.
This is where the weather turns. It has to. I want to force it away but it has to run it's course as with times before. And the truth is that it will change. For the better. The tide will rise above the rocks, if I can just hold on until then. If I can just learn to be still and wait on the tide.

Tortured reality.

I am a tortured dreamer. I wait for them. I want to go back into them and finish the dream. I don't think that this is unusual. To want to make the dream work.
I treasure my friends. I hold a place for anyone that has been close to me. I don't like to let go.
I think that is where the tortured dreams come in.
I often dream that someone is coming back. Turning time. But then the tortured part. I have moved on. I am torn. I want to make it work. I want to fix the torture.... but I have to let it go.
The waking up part sucks. It messes with my reality. I miss whoever I have been dreaming about but they aren't around and couldn't be. Won't be. And if they were, my reality would be just like my dreams.... I would have to let go, move on.
I have moved on... but when they come back in my dreams, it reminds me of what is gone, or lost, or missed.
I don't mind changing the relationship. The way we interact. The time we spend. I just don't like disconnect. So, if you are my friend. You are always welcome, you are always loved. And if you feel like this is strange because you haven't seen me in forever.... I have met you in my dreams many times.
One day my friend, one day.

Creative cold.

It feels like autumn today. It is only July. It makes me want to put on a warm sweater and quilt. I love the fall. I just would love some summer sun to store up for the long winter. And my kids are restless. There is nothing going on. No programs. No school. And I can't really quilt. Life is too busy. In fact I can't even leave the room without someone fighting, crying, screaming, sneaking something they aren't supposed to, making a huge mess. I haven't had a break for a loooong time. I don't even want one. I am too tired. I can't wait until our fence is built so I can let the kids run and just sit. Sit and stare and relax and soak up some vitamin D. Would a weeks worth of good sleep, some vitamin D, and a getaway (even for a few hours) help at this point? Then maybe my body would match my ambition and I could quilt.

standing alone.

I can't remember the last time I was happy. Really happy. I see glimpses of it. I might even know how to get there. It can't be recreated. It just happens. From happy things. Even my happy things are tainted. And I just want to cry. If I can just cry then maybe I can be happy again. This is the feeling that has come. I don't like feeling stuck. I don't like feeling in a cloud. A protective cloud of nothingness. I don't know when I started being angry. I hate being angry. I have forgiven the angry stuff but I can't go back and fix those places. They have left scars. Unhappy ones. Sometimes I think about going back in my mind. Scenarios's that just make it worse. I can't go back. I am stuck in forward. With scars. With decisions that drag me down. I can't rise above because my path is twisted and I can't be stronger... maybe as strong as I was, because my leg is broken. Or my heart. That's it. My heart is broken. In many pieces. And I lost those pieces. I miss those times. Those people. Those places. But I am changed. Maybe for the better. But not stronger. And now I am unknown. I have to start all over. I have to be me. I want to be her again for awhile. Or her. Me hurts. I am alone. Except for Jesus.   

Antisocial.

My heart is on pause.
I don't want to pursue friendships right now. I am waiting for my new home. I have so much on my mind. Between that and the beautiful sun staying out late, I am avoiding early bedtime. I am tired. I am disappointed in relationships too. So I am avoiding. I am avoiding functions... avoiding doctor's appointments...avoiding. I just want to stay home and rest. I wish the kids would let me rest. They are social creatures as well. I am having too many anxiety attacks. They feel beyond anxiety. Sometimes I wait for my heart to stop beating. It feels like it might. Sometimes it is good. I feel like it is such an easy fix. Some good times. Some big hugs. But those times and hugs aren't coming. I wish I could make some understand what tears a person down and what builds them up. Look at yourself. What does it for you? I just need some kindness, thoughtfulness, unselfishness.... I don't want to feel devastated from things going on around me. I feel like I might yell at someone out of disbelief of how they are acting. Maybe I am just down. Overloaded of life. I am not sure. I will just stay home.

Like this....... (Gateway Worship - Revelation Song - Kari Jobe)

Wrecked of this world, bound for glory.

In my car, in my house, I worship big. Arms out, dancing, singing loud. My kids do too. In church I recluse like most others. I worship inwardly. It is reminiscent to the relationship that I have with my husband. The intimacy at home is shared between me and God. I can be real. Be trusting. Be content and joyful. When we go home (to Heaven) I am sure that all fear, shame, hurt will be stripped of us and we will (and will be able to) worship as a whole. Unburdened.

In twelve days.

Imagine a day with big dark blue rain clouds mixed in with warm sky. Over a lake. Golden fall leaves surrounding still on the trees. I can feel it. It is warm but comfy sweater warm. It is my home. Or at least it will be. I have a palette on my mind. We bought our farmhouse. A little home on an acre. It is so peaceful out there. It all came together last minute. But it all came together.
It has a little work to be done but it is ours. We can take our time. I am trying to ease into it. To not worry. To not let my mind wander over the things that could disturb my peace. I can't wait to settle in.
There is a wall to be built. Maybe a fence too. A deck repair. A deck with a view. Then paint. Lots of paint. With colors like farmhouse white and antique tin.
But I have to try and stay in a state of calm. Where change used to inspire it now sometimes does not. I am hopeful and excited. A place to feel settled. A place to be peaceful. A place to breathe the fresh air.  

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.