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Jun
1
I’ve been having a hard time with faith lately. It’s easy to trust and be hopeful when times are good. It’s not so easy when you’re struggling. I’ve asked so many questions. What did I do to deserve all this? Why does everything fall apart at the same time? Why am I having the same kind of health problems as my 79 year old father? I haven’t got any answers yet; I’m not sure I ever will. Having faith without answers, without an idea of when the tide will turn, is hard.
Faith is a tough concept to explain to my kids, especially when I struggle with it myself. To me, it means trusting blindly, trusting when you have no reason to trust, trusting without any sign that help is coming. Faith is about patience, hope, and letting go. My faith is not in myself, but in someone much greater than me, so I have to let go to let Him work in my life.
Finally, after months of anger, fear, hurt, anxiety, depression, and hopelessness, I’ve decided that I’m going to let go of all that. It only makes things worse to rant and rave and give up. It doesn’t help me, it doesn’t help the situation, and it doesn’t teach my children how to have faith. It’s time for me to get back to faith. But oh, it’s so hard. When I close my eyes, the worry and fear come rushing in. I’ve let them in for too long, so now they think they’re here to stay. No more. I can’t live with them.
The deadline to sign the contract for my son’s high school band trip to march in the Rose Bowl Parade is today at 5pm. I called to ask about an extension, some more time to make sure we could get the money together, but that’s not possible. The band has to commit to the bus company, the hotel, and many other businesses that need a head count. I did get an extension for the initial deposit; they can give me until Friday for that. The contract states that my son will be going on the trip, and if he doesn’t go, we forfeit any money paid and funds raised.
I’m taking a huge leap and signing that contract today. I’m committing to this for my son. I’m closing my eyes and jumping. Because it’s time.
It’s time to have faith again. Time to believe that good things can and will happen for me. Time to believe that this dark season is about to be over.
Maybe faith is what you find when there is just nothing left. Maybe it takes a long, frightening walk down a dark, rocky road to lead you to faith. Maybe that’s the purpose of my dark season.
I am very thankful for the donations I’ve already received for the band trip through my blog giveaway; I’m working on sending out thank you emails, but I’m slow. We’re still quite a bit away from what he’ll need, but I’m having a garage sale this weekend and he will still do any fundraising that he can do through the school. I’m leaping with faith that it will all work out. I’m going to do everything I can to make it happen, and then I’m going to turn it over to God. And trust.
If you would like to help send my boy to march with his high school band, you can do so here. Prayers are also greatly appreciated, always.
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May
29
My family is off visiting relatives this weekend, and I’m kind of surprised by how much I’m missing them right now, by the depth of the feeling. They’ve barely been gone 24 hours, for crying out loud, and I feel so sad.
I know this feeling is just a reflection of the week I had. They needed to get away and have fun. I’m glad they went, but I needed to hold them close after the storm.
I’m getting a lot of work done, which is why I stayed behind. Can I have one more gripe and just say how tired I am of staying behind to work? There, that’s my last complaint. Promise.
I have to listen to music while I work, otherwise my thoughts run rampant and I get distracted. A song came up on Pandora that I’d never heard before, and the lyrics hit me like a brick. Here is just part of the song:
I want to open my eyes
I know that all I need is time
I’m growing stronger every single dayGot to go I’ll leave it to you now
Letting go of all my fear and doubt
I can’t do this on my own so I give you controlThe pressure makes us stronger
The struggle makes us hunger
The hard lessons makes the differenceAnd the differences make it worth it
The song is For Those Who Wait by Fireflight. I went to their website to find the lyrics, and I found this blurb from the lead singer, Dawn, about the story behind the song:
“There are so many hard things going on in so many people’s lives that life sometimes can be seen as a giant waiting game. We’re just waiting for those hard things to teach us something. Those hard things that happened to you can become the best things that ever happened to you because God can use that pain. He’ll turn it into power for your life, to help yourself and to help others. And those will be the cornerstones of your entire life and the basis and the formation of your character.”
I can’t imagine words that fit my life better than that right now. I have a hard time remembering that the hard lessons make the difference, or that God is working in me right now. When you’re in the depths of the struggle you can’t see very far in front of you. Trusting is the key, and I’m continually working on trusting.
Another thing I have a hard time with is praying for myself. I waver between giving up completely and feeling like I’ve prayed it all before. So when you all say you’re praying for me, you have no idea the gift you’re giving me.
I do have a prayer for all of us this weekend. While I’m missing my family so much that I physically ache, I pray that you will be wrapped in the love of your friends and family. If not literally, then in your heart. Love what you have, love the life you’re living, treasure the gifts you’ve been given.
The only sure thing is right now. Cherish it.
For more Tuesdays Unwrapped visit Chatting at the Sky
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Apr
10
My son’s baseball team played in a tournament this weekend. I had to miss the first game, which turned out to be the most awesome game for my son. They lost the second game, so they had one more chance to play this afternoon. If they won, they would continue in the tournament; if they lost, they were done.
They are done. Normally I don’t get too worked up over my kids’ sports. You win some, you lose some, and I truly believe that as long as you try, you did good. But tonight was different.
The boys were tired. They had a late game last night, a very early game this morning and then an afternoon game. But they were excited, this is only the second weekend of the season, so they are ready to play some ball.
When I saw the team we were playing, my first reaction was, isn’t this the twelve and under league?? These kids were big. Some of the kids on my son’s team are tall, but they all look their age. The other team, they were all tall and broad and didn’t look twelve. Or under.
They didn’t play like twelve year olds either. They were incredible, and even though they whipped my team, it is always fun to watch a really good team.
But our boys apparently took one look at this team and gave up before they started. It was so pathetic. They played worse than I’ve ever seen, and showed no enthusiasm for the game they love. You could see the defeat on their faces before anyone even scored. It was painful to watch, because I would at least like to see them try.
But aren’t we like that sometimes in our own lives? When the obstacle looks too big, too massive, we just quit right then. We quit before we start trying.
I know I’ve done that. I’ll decide something is impossible and talk myself out of trying. Many times, I do eventually decide to tackle whatever is in my way, and when I succeed, I think why didn’t I try this before instead of psyching myself out?
I want my son to try his hardest every time he walks onto the baseball field. No matter how intimidating the other team is. No matter how good they are. Never give up, never quit halfway through. Finish the game with your head held high, because you will know that you tried your best.
Baseball and life. Not so different.
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Apr
9
Awesome iPad giveaway! MckMama is giving away an iPad to one lucky winner – it could be you! This is not an ordinary giveaway, its a very heartfelt giveaway. If you want, you can enter by donating to Compassion International’s Child Survival Program. A donation is not required, there are other ways to enter. But wouldn’t it feel good to give to those children and mamas that need so much? And you might get a shiny new toy out of the deal.
You have until midnight EST tonight to enter.
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Apr
8
I’ve been talking to a lot of educators lately. Teachers, principals, librarians. Mostly at the middle school level, which I know is a tough age. Oh how I know.
I recently met with a middle school librarian about thirty minutes before the school day started. For the kids, anyway. At 7:30 in the morning, her library was hopping, and her office was packed with teenage girls.
I asked if the girls were her aides. She told me no, that she was a cheerleading sponsor and the girls just loved to hang out in her office. Before school, after school, during school. And she loved having them hang out with her.
Isn’t that awesome? I realized after listening to her talk for about five minutes that this woman absolutely loved those kids. She did say it was an awkward age, but that most of them just wanted someone to listen.
I love that she loves her job and the students. As a mom of a couple of kids smack in the middle of that awkward age, I have come across many adults who don’t love it. Who have no patience for it, who don’t see any humor in goofy teenage shenanigans. Who don’t want to listen. I’m so glad that of all the educators I’ve met recently, every single one of them loves what they do and they kids they work with.Their jobs aren’t easy by any stretch, but their dedication and caring is evident.
Teachers, librarians, principals, you all rock. Thank you.
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Apr
5
I am seriously blown away right now. I keep saying this on Twitter and in thank you emails, but the kindness and support that you all have shown me is just incredible. I did not expect it, not at all. But your kindness is helping me so much, helping me move away from despair and inch closer to hope.
So I am clear, your donations are extremely needed and appreciated, more than I can say. And that will help with our immediate need of getting to a place where we can breathe. But what is really helping to restore my faith and to plant seeds of hope is your kindness. The comments, emails, blog posts, and tweets have been just amazing. You all are not only supporting me and lifting my family up in your prayers, but many of you are sharing your own stories. Stories of strife and struggle, but also stories of perseverance and climbing out of the darkness. It does my heart good to hear all your stories, whether you are in the middle of a dark time or you overcame your trials and are in a much better place. I need to hear all those stories. We all need to hear that we are not alone, and that others have walked down the path we are on and survived, stronger and better.
My intention is to send each of you a thank you email. I am behind on those, but I will get them done, because its important to me to let each of you know how you have helped me in my dark time.
Financial problems and health problems managed to mask a deeper problem. A lack of faith. Somewhere along this increasingly dark path, I lost faith in God and in myself. I lost faith in the simple but strong power of hope. I have been locked in a cycle of despair and fear, and I could not find my way out. You all, through your kindness and support, have helped me find my way back to faith. For that, I am eternally grateful.
Many of you have commented that you wish you could do more. I really want everyone to understand something. Never ever doubt that whatever you can do is huge. Never think that just an email with words of support isn’t huge, because it is. How many times do we stay back, hold our tongue, because we feel like what we have to offer is too small to help, not enough to make a difference. I’m here to tell you that no kindness, no offer of prayers or good thoughts, no “hang in there” is too small. Never underestimate the good that you can do.
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Jan
11
Meet my Grandma Bonnie. Isn’t she beautiful? Yes, she is.
My grandma is 94 years old. She’s tiny, not quite 5 feet tall. But you don’t want to mess with this one. She’s a spitfire. And we love it that way.
At 94, she lives by herself in a senior apartment complex in a tiny tiny Kansas town. Everyone knows her and watches out for her, which is nice. But she does pretty good on her own. In her small town, she can walk to the post office, bank, grocery store and the lone restaurant. She drove until just recently,when the battery died in her car my uncle decided to take his time fixing it. But she doesn’t sit at home.
Her little apartment complex had a New Years Eve party in their recreation room. Guess who was in charge of unlocking the room, getting it set up for the party and staying there until the end of the party? Yep, my grandma. She welcomed 2010 at midnight, and headed off to a casino with friends the next day.
She also writes for the local newspaper. A little column called Bonnie’s Blog. When I expressed interest in reading what she wrote, she bought every back copy of the paper since she started writing her column and mailed them to me. What a treasure!
We visited her over my kids’ Christmas break, and it was a much overdo visit. I was worried about how much she would have changed since I saw her last. But the only way you can really tell that she has gotten older is that she’s quite hard of hearing now. Otherwise, she’s just as busy, active, and opinionated as ever. My kids are still laughing about her telling a story about how during hunting season,every jackass in town has a gun. She doesn’t mince her words, never has.
She has worked hard all her life, and while I like to consider myself a hard worker, I’m pretty sure the work I do can’t begin to compare to hers. In her day, work was cleaning houses, cooking meals at the cafe, and working at the local nursing home, while raising four kids. Hard, back breaking work that she did until she was 77 years old.
When I was a shy, lonely outcast of a kid in a new town, at the most awkward of ages, my grandma was my best friend. Her door was always open. I’ve always felt close to her, and while I was thrilled to see her doing so well, I do worry that our visits are numbered. One of my resolutions is to see her more often this year.
Another unspoken resolution of mine is to be more like her. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I see a tired, worn out shell of the woman I should/could be. What do you see when you look at my grandma? No tired shell there. You see a beautiful, full of life, vivacious woman who has had lots of good times and plans on having many more. I want to be like her.
Who do you want to be like?
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Nov
9
These are some of my favorite posts from the past week. Enjoy.
My Favorite Ways to Save Money- Scribbit
finders and keepers – one plus two
I was wrong about the election - Sweatpants Mom
Stuffed Jumbo Pasta Shells - Robyn’s Online World
A letter to my sons - Lawyer Mama
Chicken pot pie - BeanPlate This is a new blog from Melanie at BeanPaste, which is already one of my favorites.
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Oct
15
I took a leap of faith when I registered my blog to participate in Blog Action Day. Not because I don’t want to get involved, but because I rarely feel like I can post with authority on anything. But I can participate in this discussion on poverty.
I cannot say I’ve experience extreme poverty. I’ve seen extreme poverty and I know enough to be thankful that I’ve not lived it. But after skipping through my twenties without a worry about money, suddenly I found myself with 2 small children, and a husband with a good, albeit low paying job. Things got tight very quickly when the decision was made for me to stay home with those children. I was working part time jobs, split shifts so that we wouldn’t have to pay daycare, which we couldn’t afford. Then add in an unexpected move to a better, but also low paying job for my husband and suddenly we were forced to make hard choices.
There was always food, many nights it was Ramen or tuna casserole. We were safe and healthy. But there were enough things that we had to do without, enough choices that had to be made, that it was a rough few years. I spent those years ignoring my own health care in order to make sure we could cover the co pays for our childrens healthcare. Things like eye doctors, dentists and regular checkups were luxuries, at least for my husband and I. We scraped to make sure the kids had what they needed and we did without.
I’m certainly not trying to say that I considered us to be in poverty during that time. I’m so thankful that we weren’t. My point in sharing this is to say, I’ve been in a place where I thought we had it hard, but in the big scheme of things, we did not. So I try to imagine just how much worse it could have been. That’s the place we need to go to. We have to go there, because so many people, families, children, are in that horrible place.
The amazing thing is, when we were struggling to make ends meet, angels appeared out of nowhere. Angels who offered to help, offered money, offered food, offered hand me downs for my children, offered prayers. Angels that I had never met before and haven’t met to this day helped us.
I want to be an angel, like so many were for me. I want to help, in any way I can. I can’t help in big ways, but I can and do help in many small ways. Here are some of the things I do to try to be an angel for someone in need:
- Take food to the local food pantry.
- Clean out my childrens closets and take the lightly worn clothes that they’ve grown out of to the local Catholic Charities.
- Participate in our churches Angel Tree program at Christmas. I let each of my sons pick out a child from the tree to get a gift for.
- I get emails from our area freecycle community, and when someone posts a need for something that I have, I give it to them.
- When I noticed that there was a child at my sons school who continually wore shoes with holes and pants 3 sizes too big, I spoke with the counselor and made arrangements to purchase some clothes and shoes that fit the child.
These are small things, but I know for a fact that every small thing helps. I can’t not help. Struggling for even that short time was the best thing that ever happened to me. It made me kinder, more compassionate, and it instilled in me a great desire to give. I look forward to the day when I can give more, and help in more ways.
Let’s all be angels.
This post is part of Blog Action Day 08 – Poverty
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Jul
22
I just read a very inspirational post by Kyran at Notes to Self. You have to read it, then look into your heart and see if you could find the courage and love to do what she did.
This is something I struggle with as a mom. When people ask me what I want for me kids, my answers don’t include riches or admission into the best college. What I want most for them is that they be kind. To everyone. Not just to people “like them”, whatever that means.
I used to be so much more judgmental than I am now, now that I’ve got more than a few rough years under my belt. Now when I start to judge my instinct is to consider whether or not I’ve walked even a minute in that person’s shoes. Most of the time, I haven’t. That’s enough reason for me to check my judgment, to stop making assumptions and instead just care. And be kind.
My kids have questions when they see the homeless wandering the streets. My oldest has started being judgmental, which I suppose is normal. But it’s not acceptable. I’ve explained to them that any number of things led to those people not having a place to live. Any number of things that could happen to any of us. It’s important for him to understand that bad things, things you can’t control, can happen to anyone. Life happens, and it’s not always pretty.
We’ve told our sons that they will go to college, we’ve talked about the importance of education and making the most of your education. A few weeks ago we were stuck in some highway construction and my son was noticing the construction workers. His comment was that “somebody didn’t go to college”. My response was, do you think everyone has that choice? Do you think the good things you have in your life are guaranteed for everyone?
I probably came across a little harsh with him, only because this topic is so important to me. I want him to appreciate his life, his gifts, his blessings. I also want both of them to understand that we all deserve to be treated with respect and kindness, no matter what cards we’ve been dealt in life. It’s a simple, basic lesson, but it’s taken a lifetime for me to learn it, and I’m still learning it every day.
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Where did those little guys go?Cuteness overload
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