That "V" Word - Part 2 - Because We Need Another Part

I just love when discussions happen in the comment section! And I wanted to add my 2 cents worth after Flamingo's and then remembered that I own this blog and I can filibuster if I want to! You guys just have to stick to the comment section - sorry. Unless you want to start your own blog and make a retort.



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In highschool, waaaaay back in the 90's, (late 90's thank you very much), the boys soccer team used to walk around wearing T-shirts with a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson on their backs:



"Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm."



I used to think that out of all the cool quotes they could have chosen - why this one? I was sooooo disappointed in them. But, they had a successful team, so I didn't say anything. And that quote has never left me.



Sometimes we live life just trying to survive it. And enthusiasm is blanketed by the everyday necessities.



I don't believe God intended for us to live that way. He wants us to live life abundantly, to live life to it's fullest. He has knit us inside our mother's wombs - every single detail, from the way our nose turns up to our organizational analytical compassionate selves (place your qualities here - and most of those above are not my qualities). Our passions, our gifts. These were miraculously given to us way back in the beginning as our nose was being formed and our hearts started beating for the first time. If he created our physical being, than I believe he created our personal being - our character, our spirits, our souls. If he didn't let that up to chance, than something significant is being said here.



Purpose. And his creativity.



I think there are many believers out there that think that God has a certain will for them. And they stress themselves out with every choice that presents itself, wondering if it's in or out of God's will. I think we tend to believe that his will for us is narrow - and it's very hard to figure out if we are in God's will or not.



Until we succeed or fail. And that is the measuring system.



My friends my friends. What if we're wrong? What if God has more yes's for us than no's? Isn't this a freeing thought?



Yes, I believe that God has certain things for us to do, individually. He came up with these things before we were born. And this reminds me to take more notice to each moment, to look for those special tasks he has for me. Big or small. He created me in such a way to preform these individual plans.



But besides those special plans, I think we are free to dream. We are free to exercise our passions - which God created in us! I think God tells us more so than not, "Just do something!"



A couple years ago I found myself in between two choices. One was to continue being a growth group leader - stepping up with added responsibilities. The other was to pull out of every involvement I was in at church - to take at least a year off to focus on simplicity and family. How I struggled with this decision! How I wondered what God's will for me was! I went back and forth. I wrestled with the choices. I was leaning one way, but didn't know if it was "right". Finally God said, "Enough is enough! Just do something! Both choices are good!"

Robert Frost knows all about this.

I chose simplicity and family. And during that year I experienced God like no other time in my life.

But that doesn't mean the other choice was wrong. Perhaps it wasn't the better choice. Than again, maybe it was. God blessed me never-the-less. That year off prepared me for this past year. Thank you God for being God.

My dad started seminary when I was four years old. We moved from York, PA to Winona Lake, Indiana. For a year. We came home then. A couple years later we moved to Stowe, VT where dad and mom started a "home missions" church. Home missions in being that it wasn't started over-seas. After two years, we had to return home. We were majorly in debt, the church never grew to be self supportive.

Were my parents out of God's will? Who are we to judge? He didn't stop us from going. Failure is a state of perspective (unless pertaining to absolutes). And not necessarily God's. Whether we "succeed" or "fail", I don't think this is necessarily a true measurement of being in God's will. My parents followed their passion - a God given passion. It was good.

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So back to the word vision.

I think it's not only important for us to have one (or more), I think it's our responsibility as stewards of what God's created in us.

But what is this word, vision? What does it mean to me? For me, it encompasses passion and purpose, a drive, a picture of my dreams (though I now know not to get too detailed in my portrait and to let God do his thing :)

I have a vision as a wife and mother, I have a vision as a podiatric assistant working with the group of crazy people (I love them!) beside me, I think I should have a vision for my writing because it's something that is near and dear to my heart, therefore near and dear to God's heart because it's a love he's created inside me. All this I'm just starting to think about. My mentor said to me, having a vision is something that will help me keep on track of the choices that come my way. It will help me to decide what I should say "no" to, and what I should say "yes" to. And I love that. I love anything that will help to simplify my life.

As fallen humans, we mess every good thing up with evil. It's an unsavory mess sometimes. It has always been important to stay under the protection of the Lord's wings. Out of it, we are open to being deceived by Satan as well as by our own deceitful hearts. It says so very clearly in the Bible. Eve was persuaded to pursue the wrong vision - a vision of being her own god. Of course we must be on guard. We need to make sure our vision is indeed good and right in God's eyes. And we need to humble ourselves in following him or else we'll run into ... ourselves. And that's not a good thing. We trip over ourselves way too many times.

I believe the gifts God's given us are also tied closely to our greatest weakness. And so it is absolutely vital that we walk with God, opening ourselves up to what he sees, and allowing him to continue his good work in us.

Regardless, he is God. And we can't mess his work up. We just miss out on the blessings.

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Okay, fire away - I'm done for now. Leave your comment, but please package it in love - I've got a sensitive heart!

Farmer's Almanac Prediction

In the offices of the podiatry practice, I heard tell the Farmer's Almanac is predictiong "the storm of the century" on March 7th, that we will get more than the past two big snowstorms combined.

Good gracious - where are we going to put all the snow?

Shingles In My Ear And Leakage In My Eye

It was November of 2003. We were driving home from D&D's one night. I had one of the most painful migraines I've ever had that reached from the back of my neck down over my head and situated itself in my sinuses. I went to bed in pain.

The next morning, as I was brushing my teeth, something peculiar was happening. Water kept spurting out the side of my mouth and I had no control of keeping it in.

I smiled. Hhmmmmmm.

I raised my eyebrows. Uh oh.

I scowled and winked.

Shit.

Either I had experienced a stroke at some point in the night, or I was suffering from Bel's Palsy, a condition I had just learned existed from D's brother who had suffered from it. Since I was thinking clearly and could easily move the other left sided non-facial body parts, I concluded I had Bel's Palsy.

I got the kids ready and headed over to Aunt Mae's, where Jason was doing yard work. I showed him my ever increasing lop-sided facial features. Eventually I made my way over to the doctor's where I saw the physician's assistant. He unsurprisingly told me I had Bel's Palsy and prescribed steroids. I requested blood work for Lyme's disease (he forgot that the link existed between the two). It must have come back negative. Or positive. Whichever result tells me that I didn't have Lyme's disease.

A few days later we traveled to the mountains. This trip has always induced nauseousness. However, I could barely walk into the trailer in an upright position. I basically stayed in bed the whole long weekend. I threw up on our way home - which is something that I rarely do. I spent one very long week in bed. Blinking made the room spin. I would pee twice in a 24 hour rotation - once in the morning and once at night. I barely ate or drank. I knew that I could survive 3 days without fluids and 12 days without food. But my stomach growled fiercely as I smelled the delicious dinner aromas coming from the kitchen. I lost almost 10 pounds that week, bringing my total body weight down to 85 pounds. I was so weak. My mother-in-law and mom took turns coming over to watch the kids and take care of the household duties. I could do nothing but lay in bed, keeping my head as still as possible. I went back to the doctor's later on that week, again I saw the physician assistant. He prescribed motion sickness medicine which did diddly-squat for me. At one point I thought to myself, "I just need to get off this medicine and slowly acclimate myself back to normalcy." But I didn't. I went again to the doctor's, saw the same stupid man, who conferred with another stupid man who never took the time to see me, and basically was told that I had an upper respiratory infection and it was going to take time for the fluid behind my ears to dissipate. I was suffering now for about a month. I would walk into the doctor's office leaning heavily on my husband because there was no way I could walk by myself.

I finally decided to go to and ENT. If I had fluid behind my ears, than I wanted it drained. Put a damn tube in my ear if that's what it takes. This vertigo and motion sickness was going on way too long for my liking. I had to travel way out to Hanover, about an hour away. It was the closest office that took my insurance. The doctor was strange. But he was at least competent. He asked me two very important question. Did I initially have blisters in my ear and was my ear very painful on the inside? Those questions sparked a memory of the time in the mountains when I kept picking out crystals from my ear. And yes, I had pain. At the time I thought it was strange, but didn't think much of it since I had bigger issues to deal with (facial paralysis and extreme vertigo and nauseousness). He told me that what I had was shingles in my ear. It's called Ramsay Hunt Syndrome and is rare, which is why my "doctor" didn't pick up on it - he probably never even saw a case of it before. Old people get it. He told me to wean myself off of the motion sickness meds and he gave me a few exercises (now you know another reason why I hate to exercise) to do to regain my sense of balance. He said that the virus (and since I had the chicken pox as a kid I housed the virus dormant inside my body) became activated and settled in my ear, more specifically the nerve ending that is responsible for maintaining balance. I also had some hearing loss.

Another month passed. I revisited my ENT. My hearing had returned (or so they told me - I have my doubts :). And I was doing much better with the whole balance thing. It was now probably February or March.

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Fast forward a couple months. I was in the depths of a really good book. I developed another mind bending migraine. My contact in my right eye was not working right, it was causing vision distortion. I thought to myself as I was reading, "I really need to check this contact to see if it really is the contact, or if in fact it is my eye that is causing the problem." A day or two pass before I get around to it (I was preoccupied with the book), my headache is still persistently present. I finally check the contact. Looks good. Oh oh. The distortion is still present even with the contact out of my eye. I make a phone call to my eye doctor who told me to wait an hour to see if my headache would go away. What an idiot. Of course it wasn't going to go away, I thought. I had it for days, it's not going anywhere! I called her back in an hour. She saw me that evening. And became ecstatic when she looked into my eye with her little doohickey tool. "Oh, I wish my intern was here, he just went home. He's been wanting to see something cool for days!" My eye was leaking blood into the retina. Her excitement over that fact made me excited and I wanted her to call the intern back to look at my eye. I wanted to look inside my eye! She declared I must go to a retinal specialist the very next day. I couldn't wait!

Jason, my then 3 year old son and 1 year old daughter and I, arrived in the morning at Dr. Swann's, the retinal specialist. We spent 3 hrs. there. They dilated my eye, measured the pressure, pushed dye up the veins in my arm which would highlight the veins in my eyes (it made me sneeze), took pictures of my eye, and then gave me the verdict. My choice was to lose all but my peripheral vision if I chose to do nothing, or lose some central vision if I chose to "fix" the distortion. He told me that my eye was making new blood vessels, and these new blood vessels were very weak. Blood was leaking from them. The only way to fix it was through hot laser "surgery", which would cauterize the blood vessels. The laser would create a tiny blindspot close to the center of my vision (I can now block out people's heads with this dark spot if I close my good eye). We did the laser procedure that day. I really had no other choice - I wanted as much normal vision as I could possibly have. The dye made my skin and eyes jaundice. I went back to him after two weeks to make sure I wasn't leaking again. I was. He did the whole thing over again. More dilating, more sneezing, more laser, in which I had to keep absolutely still.

I saw my retinal specialist every few weeks, then every few months that first year. They got to know me pretty well. I was the only young patient. I had my kiddos with me - and they behaved amazingly well - these visits would take 2-3 hours at a time. I would drive home with one pupil dilated, one pupil constricted, and a yellow face.

I will always have that blindspot. Driving is a tad more scary (blindspots galore! Not all from my actual blindspot), but I'm still safe friends, have no fear. I havn't had any more distortions. I go visit my retinal specialist every two years to make sure.

I now have several things in common with the old people I see everyday. I had shingles too. I had retinal problems. I had facial paralysis (which, by the way is pretty humiliating. I love to smile at people and they thought I was scowling at them).

I learned a lot medically in 2003/2004 - who needs nursing school ehh?

Oh, and I don't mean to leave the impression that I think all physician assistants are idiots. I was accepted at a college to become one before I decided to ventured into nursing school. No, I have respect for physician assistants - just not this one. He has gain my disrespect only after mulitpule instances of incompetency. I love my eye doctor - and I idolize my retinal specialist, they saved the vision in my right eye.

It's That "V" Word

I have some good posts steaming in my mind, but they're not done brewing yet. You'll have to bear with me. I have the energy and inspiration in the mornings to give these unborn posts justice, but when I get home in the evenings my mind is gone. Which is okay - like I just wrote, they're not done brewing.

I'm learning about "vision". It has been ringing in my ears lately. My mentor mentioned vision to me when I met with her this past Friday. What is my vision for my family? And then the pastor's sermon was on vision this past Sunday (don't you just love it when God hits you over the head like that?). Flamingo got me to thinking about dreams in place of resolutions in the beginning of the year.

I'm not a big visionist - is that even a word? I enjoy planning trips, planning the way I want my house to look, planning my social calendar (snort). But if you would ask me, like my mentor asked me, what my vision for my family is, or what my vision for my writing or my vision for my work is - I'd be stumped. Sure, I'd be able to give you an answer, eventually, but vision, like resolutions, are a set up for failure. I had visions once. I had it all mapped out, the way I wanted my life to go, from college, to meeting that guy during the 3rd year, to marrying after I graduated, to having a child after the 1st or 2nd year of my new career. Then God laughed at me. I got married after my first year of college, dropped out of school during my second, had my first baby just days before I turned 22. And nothing went according to my vision. Since then I lived life with few expectations and did my best from moment to moment.

I don't regret a thing. And I love the way my life is going - tough times and all (well, I'll be honest, most tough times and all). I can honestly say that this is one wild ride I'm on, simple as it is. Some of you might look in on me and wonder, where is all the excitement? To each his own my friend. Watching an ingrown toenail get trimmed out is mesmerizing. Witnessing the kids develop more and more character is amazing. Jason's job situation, although stressful with so much waiting, is a front row seat in viewing the actions of God.

So my vision? I'm journaling about it. Maybe I'll post on some of them one day. I know that having a vision is not a blueprint of my life, a step by step guide. I'll not make that amateur mistake again! But it's thinking about my passions, I actually do have some, and dreaming of how they can be used in my everyday life and where it might take me in the future. Our church is holding a parenting conference this coming Saturday - I'm hoping a vision for my family will drop down from heaven through the mouths of the speakers. Just kidding, I guess I can come up with my own. I've already started working on it. However, I'm hoping that this conference will spark some good conversations between Jason and I. Maybe we can brainstorm together. I'm not that great a communicator, neither is hubby, so we don't talk about this kind of stuff (an all-together different vision of mine- that communication thing).

This post has sparked a topic for a journaling session - the reasons why I avoid visions. But it's almost 10pm now, and I need to work on one momentarily :)

Do You Know?

Why is it that my face is so oily but the rest of my skin is so dry? This is so frustrating!

Guess Who Needs Footcare?

Even Santa Claus needs his toenails cut and filed down to a more reasonable thickness! Even Santa Claus has fungus nails! I got to meet him the other day. And he is just as nice as he appears in all his movies. So tell your kids, Santa Claus is real - Sista Insane cleaned his feet.

Being Where I Should Be

It's comforting. It's adventurous. Sometimes scary. Sometimes overwhelming. And frustrating. It's most definitely crazy. It's living life one day at a time, sometimes moment by moment. It's praying in the morning - "God, help me to know you're beside me today." It's the humble acceptance of a mistake made and taking responsibility. It's quiet determination. And preserving dignity, both the patient's and my own. It's the recognition of something learned, a task that was accomplished successfully. It's sensing God's love and peace all the while tears stream down my face and the thought of "quiting" skitters through my mind. It's the self awareness that not only acknowledges my faults, but is well aware of my assets.

This is where I should be. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not in twenty years ... but as of now, I am where God wants me. He'll take care of the rest.

My Valentine's Gift

I've asked my hubby for specific reasons on why he loves me (I'm so egotistical). I've been after him for quite some time now. I don't doubt my hubby's love for me- he's put up with me for almost 11 years now. And anybody who can live with me for that long must either love me lots, has no other option, or is more insane than even I am.

It's like pulling teeth though, getting specific reasons out of him. He's not one to talk about emotions, or reasons for them. And I don't like making people talk about things if it makes them uncomfortable. So I don't nag him - since that's not nice. Which means that I haven't received too many specific reasons.

But the question is valid. What in the world would make a man love me? I'm not humble. I don't struggle with self-esteem issues (remember, I think I'm pretty cool enough to be my own best friend). Even so, a girl wants to know. Because I honestly don't know.

I arrived home around 8pm that night of the 3 hr. car drive. Hubby had my card waiting - a valentine's day card. I had forgotten valentine's day was coming up. I was thinking about President's day. He couldn't wait for me to open it! The card itself was funny, but on the inside was a long list of reasons why he loves me, and he even wrote "... with more to come". His list shocked me! I didn't think he could come up with so many reasons - and then write that there were more to come! It is one of the most sweetest cards he's ever given me. And I have them all.

I've got a good man.

Ski Trip

We managed to make it out of York County and into Potter County, although the insides of our stomachs were starting to digest themselves in an attempt to appease our hunger. Upon our arrival, after we explored our Chateaux, these cute Aflac ducks came to greet us. Some sported afros; Aflac Afros. Do you see the one with the greying afro? The kids dubbed him "Einstein".

Our house was a big beautiful 5 bedroom, 3 1/2 bath home with a frozen pond and snow covered trails that meandered through the 6 acre property. To view the interior and exterior photos of this property, click HERE.

Of Course the kids absolutely loved the ducks, but I'm not sure the ducks took too kindly to them, although it was obvious these ducks were used to attention!

Unfortunately, I have no pictures of us skiing. But to view Ski Denton's website, click HERE. If you search through the photo gallery, you'll see a couple pictures of Little Miss (the cute little girl dressed all in pink) from 3 years ago. And yes, that manish woman beside Little Miss is indeed me - I don't look cute in knit hats.

Hurricane EE impressed his daddy and I this year. He skied down the bunny hill (well, half of it) all by himself and some easy trail (I have yet to memorize the trail names, even though I've been skiing exclusively there for 12 years) in which he had to overcome his fear of chair lifts.

Little Miss once again took ski wee lessons with her twin cousin (they were born 6 months a part). This was a 3 hr. lesson, or should have been had they not spent an hour eating lunch. After lunch, Little Miss spotted the tube hill and asked her teacher if they could ride those. No no, No-No. Focus.

I was nervous about skiing this year. I debated if I even wanted to get a lift ticket. My last experience (the year before last) was not too successful for some reason. And why should I spend the money on something that I really am not looking forward to so much? But I bought a 4 hr. lift ticket, and I "boarded" the pamalift. As I reached the top of the bunny hill, my heart started pumping hard. I stayed at the top of the hill for a while, just looking down. I was so scared. This is somewhat unusual for me - although I am a cautious skier, I'm not usually too fearful. "Risky" activities cause more anxiety now than ever before. Activities like driving in the rain (would have been driving in the snow too, but my 3 hr. drive home from work cured me of that), riding on the back of hubby's motorcycle (for obvious reasons), digging tunnels in snow banks 8 ft. high (reader might remember my clausterphobic tendencies), and now, apparently, skiing. But I did it, I started down the hill, slowly. And I got back on the pamalift and did it again. And again. And again. And as each time became successful, I got more and more comfortable. But that first ride down was a doosey - I tried not to cry but couldn't overcome the emotion completely. I could easily imagine a hideous wipe-out in which my legs would be tangled up at odd angles and I'd be transported by the "meat wagon" to the first aid place, and then by ambulance to Cole hospital. I didn't want to leave the bunny hill where all the other beginners were. I felt a kinship towards them!

It snowed off and on throughout the weekend. It was beautiful. We watched the Olympics in the evenings. We used the pellet stove in the living room which created a cozy atomosphere. The kids played on the pond. I read more from that massive book, The Kindly Ones. We played poker. I almost won! But someone told me once that 2nd place is the first loser. I always thought that at least I was first at something.

Check out the video of the aflac afro ducks!

Craziness

Who's ready for Spring? This was fun, but it's time for some sun and warmth. It isn't quite halfway through February yet - and we get snows in March.

We're hoping to leave for the North tomorrow morning. But the roads surrounding us are closed at this point in time. It should make for an adventurous journey in getting to our point of rendezvous. Who knew getting out of York county would be so treacherous?

I'm sure you have similar pictures of this incredible February snow. If you had a blog, you could post them :)

Looks cozy, doesn't it? But I'll be happy to leave it tomorrow morning for our ski trip in Coudersport.

Late Night Musings

What a day! Not in a busy crazy kind of way, but in a "holy cow, when will it stop" kind of way. We've received another 2 ft. to add to our existing 2 ft. of snow today. And tomorrow we'll have blizzard winds resulting in much snow driftage. Needless to say, I will not be going to work again tomorrow. I will not be going anywhere tomorrow. I'll be staying put, doing laundry, cleaning bathrooms (with the kids help), and packing for our long ski weekend trip. We're renting a house this time, a really nice house I should add, for our annual President's weekend ski trip to the "mountains". We'll be staying with Hubby's sister and brother and their families - and we all can't wait! However, with all this amazing snow, our one highway was closed today. They hoped to have it reopened by tonight - so hopefully this is so.

Hubby tried to open up our driveway completely, but only got 2/3rds of it done. I don't even know if our road has been touched by a plow today, so we were not going anyway even if he did manage to clear it completely. We are running low on snacks and on breakfast items. I sipped my final glass of wine this evening. I do, however, have a large bag of frozen chopped spinach. Don't ask me what I was thinking when I bought it - and yes, it was me who bought it. Things will have to get really bad before I break into that bag! I also just started a really thick and disturbing book - so I count myself fortunate. It's called, The Kindly Ones by Jonathan Littell. It's about a man who was involved in the Nazi regime during WW11. He writes decades after of his experience. He is responsible for killing many (I don't know how many yet) people. I've read about 50 of the 975 pages. I love a good thick book - how can a good writer write an interesting story in under 200 pages? I've little use for a book like that - it would last me 1/2 a day. However, this book might be a little too long - especially if it's dark and disturbing as it seems to be promising me it is.

Little Miss seems to be developing a cough (sorry Sista D, she'll most likely expose the cousins to it this coming weekend). But thank goodness that's all it is. I hope the swine flu doesn't come back 'round like "they're" saying it will. I have a feeling that once it gets warmer, we'll start hearing about all kinds of illnesses again. And we've had a rough time of it so far (in comparison to previous years).

I think I'm sufficiantly tired now. I'm going to bed. Maybe.

I'll Be Home For ...

... Summer.

It took me about 3 hrs. to get home from work this evening - and no, I did not work in New York City today. Just York city. Good ol' York, where a million people travel on the same road as I do at the same time that I do headed in the same direction as I do. Just at a very slow pace because of the snow storm and the fact that they are not as courageous as I am. All day I was worried about traveling home in the predicted snow storm. Then the time came for me to embark on my homeward journey and I reached the high speed of - almost 5 mph. Bumper to Bumper crawling and stopping. Stupid people. If you're so afraid of driving, than DON'T! I only had a sandwich bag half full of crackers and a drop of Coke to hold me over (I had to think of the Haitian man who survived on beer and cookies - how I envied his feast). Half way into my adventure, my stomach decided to let me know that the crackers were not enough. I needed meat and I needed meat now. And a bottle of wine (which I am now sipping from - a glass, not the whole bottle).

It's almost 10pm and I still need to get my bath. So I'm going to leave you for now my friends, and hopefully return to you sometime tomorrow. I will not be working tomorrow due to the crazy snow storm. This gives me time to do laundry and pack for the weekend mountain ski trip.

Where are we going to put all this snow?

Wishing All My Friends Had ...

... blogs.

I love stories. And I love to see how God is working in my friends lives. Maybe it's because sometimes - sometimes it's easier to see him at work in other people's lives more so than my own. Sometimes. But I love stories. And I love my friends. So why don't you create a blog and write your story? For me? Please? I don't follow too many blogs. I don't follow many blogs because so many of my friends don't have one. Forget Facebook - come over to the blog side.

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Okay, enough hounding. It's time for some fun. Here is a movie I can't wait to see again. I think my kids would get a huge kick out of it. Do you remember Ernest? Ernest Goes To Camp, Ernest Goes To Jail, Ernest Saves Christmas ... ? Check out this spoof to spark your memory.

Take Over Me (again and again and again ... )

In C.S. Lewis' book, The Screwtape Letters, there is an intriguing correspondense that takes place between a demon and his apprentice. The apprentice shares with his mentor his success in leading a young believer away from his faith. He is celebratory and prideful of his accomplishment. The reply that his mentor gives him is interesting and very revealing of the true nature of evil's lack of eternal power and God's ultimate sovereignty and the promise he gives his children. The mentor writes back to his apprentice, telling him that he might have been successful this time, but that the annoying habit of believers is this - they always return to their Maker. The best that they can do is to help them walk away, but they cannot prevent them from returning to the Lord.

It is so frustrating to me when I walk away, even briefly. I berate myself. I feel like I'm disappointing God and that he's displeased with me. Maybe this is part of Satan's attack. He might not be able to prevent us from returning to the Lord, but he can manipulate how we view God's response. Disappoint God? Wouldn't that indicate a lack of knowledge that I would walk away to begin with? Nothing I do could surprise him. And he forgave me of everything way back in the beginning. Did the father of the prodical son feel displeasure? He was celebratory! He was loving! He was inviting! He was joyous!

Over and over and over again. I walk away. Over and over and over again, I return. This will continue, this cyclical behavior, until I die. That's the result of the Fall, and that's the power of His Love. "... I am only closer and closer to where I want to be." This pattern is not circular, it's a spiral. Closer and closer to Him.

Oh how I love him because he first loved me. How I love him because he is beyond comprehension.

What Sparked The Fire?

Motherhood.

This is not the post where I share how much I love being a mother and how much I love my kids. This is not a post in which I'll describe the cute day to day goings on with my children.

I'm just going to assume you already know how much I love my kids, that I would find great satisfaction in killing anyone who tried to harm them. That cute day to day goings on do bring pleasure to my soul each day. Please keep this in mind as you read on. Because in just a bit, it's going to seem like I'm contradicting myself.

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There was a time in my life when I did not want kids. I wanted to travel and write and support myself just enough to survive where ever I was. Maybe my type of personality would have been a better match for that kind of lifestyle. I don't know.

I don't know why some of us women are mothers and some of us aren't. Some women who have children never really asked for them. Some women try desperately for years to have a child and can't. I guess nature bears some responsibility. We were built to have little ones - it's part of God's design. We were built with ways to prevent pregnancy as well, it's a miracle we are even able to conceive at all. And as with much of our sorrow, general sin has a role to play as well. Thanks Adam! (It really was his fault anyway!) And over everything is God's sovereignty.

I never thought motherhood would be all fun and games. Truly I didn't. I knew it would be work and sacrifice - a thankless job. But what I didn't bargain for was how much I wouldn't enjoy it. I thought that I would have made a better mom. This humbles me. I am not the mother I wish I could be - I don't even think I come close.

But God's reminding me right now - who am I comparing myself to? And I get his point. Most times I forget it though and fall into the same trap that I've fallen into for years. Comparing myself to other mothers.

There are so many good mothers out there - and I seem to be surrounded by a lot of them. They actually like being mommies. It comes naturally to them, this motherhood thing. I don't mind the mommies who are naturally good at being mommies. I'm amazed by them. I'm perplexed. I'd like to examine them under my microscope. What kind of woman is this woman who naturally succeeds at motherhood with grace, love, creativity, and discipline?

But, not too long ago, these mothers, not all of them (not my friends - don't worry friends), would piss me off. Some mothers put up a "good mommy" facade, some mothers never talk about anything but their children (when I just wanted to forget I had them). They do not show their real selves - and anybody who hides their real self to me tends to piss me off. I don't need to know their appalling life story, but I don't want glossy fake fluff either. Just give me you. (that way I can feel better about me! - kidding, kidding).

Most of the time I understand that my personality and character cannot change into this kind of "natural mother" type woman. God did not make me like that. I'm not a natural! I'm an implant! But that's God's fault and not mine - I believe that he intended I become a mother. Not because he thought I'd make a good mother, but because he thought it would make me a good woman (just ask Leslie).

I guess he knew what he was doing. And thank goodness his children are ultimately in his hands. I don't think I'll screw them up too much, I really do try to be a good mommy. And I seek his guidance. That's a good start.

I can hear you reader, I can hear you shaking your head and saying to the computer, "Emily, you're a good mother." (I'm fooling myself aren't I? You're actually nodding your head in agreement with me so far - you know me too well by now! Don't worry, I'm not hurt by your honest assessment).

It would have been much easier if I stayed single and had no children. My personality loves myself enough to keep me entertained. I love my alone time. Do you remember my strongest quality according to the 100+ question test and book "Strength Finders" by Tom Rath? It is intellection - more specifically - I am my own best friend. I think I'm like a cat. If what I understand from my cat owning friends is true, cats don't need much affection and attention. They don't need much interaction. They dictate when and how much they need. That's me.

Here it is, the honest ugly dark truth of this post. Motherhood sucks the life out of me, and my kids are the leeches. I take it as a personal assault every time they come to me in some sort of need - ten thousand times a day. I love my leeches readers, they're beautiful, fun, kind-hearted, spirited, & passionate leeches. But they're leeches just the same.

It's getting easier, a bit, (now that they're in school all day and the teacher has to put up with them). They're getting more independent. I'm trying to learn what they can do for themselves, many times I assume they need me more than they actually do. They think they need me more than they actually do because that's what I think. But they're growing up now, and they need to acquire a bit more independence. Then, at least this is my theory, they might build some needed self - confidence. And now that I'm working and hubby might have a different work schedule in a few months, the need for them to have more responsibility and independence will be greater.

I think many mothers would read this and throw a fit. How can you call your babies "leeches!" (They did gain sustenance from my body for half a year - so I'm not too far off the mark). And I'm being real my friends. I know I can't be the only woman out there who is not a natural mother, who struggles with it more than she feels successful with it. And this is for those mothers. You're not the only one who feels this way! You are loving, just like me. We love our babies dearly. I just find it hard to express that, to let myself enjoy them long enough for them to know I'm enjoying them. My Sista from another Mista always reminds me to hug and kiss my husband at the end of our hour+ phone conversations. She knows I tend to forget - just because that's not who I am. I'm not the affectionate one. Hubby is. It's somewhat easier with the kids - at least it's easier with Little Miss. Hurricane EE is just like me, we are stiff. (I'm getting better - he has a long way to go). But he just smiles and glows when I hug and kiss and tickle him!

Being a mommy has brought me to the brink of insanity. Bi-Polar is right Leslie. Except, my other sista from another mista has told me that I'd most likely suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder (read that post HERE).

I have to agree with her.

What's WRONG With Me?

Goodness, where do I begin?

I think I'll invite you in on a journaling session. I'll be talking with you and the Lord, but mostly the Lord.

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I'm not connecting with you like I've been able to long ago. It seems like long ago. Before the new reality began. We talk briefly, I listen in spurts. I catch Chuck on the radio for 15 minutes on Mondays and Tuesdays.

I know you're beside me, but mostly, you've been quiet.

There was a time when I spent precious quiet moments with you, leaning my head against the window, soaking in the quietness and sun. There was a time when I journaled, dug deep, listened for your voice and invitation. Looked for your romances. There was a time when I had opened myself up to you, when I asked to see what you see.

But that was another life. I'm caught between two. I'm stuck in transition. And I'm floundering. I'm so tired.

I find myself crying without any warning. I get impatient, frustrated, and impertinent with the kids. I'm overstepping my authority. I'm loving one moment and unloving the very next.

There are a few reasons for this.

I never was one to size up reality quickly and accurately. It's only been three months since I've started this job. And in all honesty, I might as well be working full-time. I actually thought I'd have a schedule and routine down by now. That life's new "normal" would fit like a cotton t-shirt.

What a stupid expectation!

I'm all smiles during the day, giving my best to people I don't know but I enjoy. I work hard. I'm on my feet most of the time. My mind is on over-drive, trying to absorb all the medical information, insurance information, equipment information, note-taking information, pre-op, post-op, and office visit care, anticipating what might be needed, & praying I don't make a mistake and embarrass myself. I love it, I'm scared of it, I'm frustrated by it, I'm gaining self-confidence all the while feeling completely stupid and useless at times.

When I get home from work, I immediately swing into supper mode. I don't even pee first. I clean off the table, quickly review school papers, prepare and serve supper. Hubby's been learning how to help with the meals - he's been such a big help. After supper, it's clean-up time. Then, because it's usually around 7pm, the kids have a snack. They prepare for bed, read a little, and by 8:00 to 8:30 they are in bed for the night. Somewhere between 7 and 11 I finally am able to scub off & wash out fungal nail debris from my body and hair. Right now I have a load of clean laundry that's been sitting out, waiting to be folded since Saturday, 4 days ago. Nobody wants to fold the white laundry. It sucks - too many socks and one fitted sheet - how the hell does one fold a fitted sheet? (Oops! I was talking to the readers Lord, I forgot myself). I fed the bunny and gave her water yesterday, now Little Miss' room smells slightly of ammonia and rabbit pellets dot the floor - is the thing throwing her poop out of her cage? The wooden window frames need to be cleaned, the moisture is growing black stuff - could that be mold? Lord, I've been sneezing lately. I think it's mold. I haven't cleaned my bathroom thoroughly in over 2 weeks, possibly 4. I would love to organize a few closets, but if I have the time - I don't have the energy. I get home from work and my mind is fried - completely fried. I sit at this computer and blog about silly stupid stuff because I can't think straight. I cheated at Twisted Crazy Talk Tuesdays friends. (Lord, you already know this). I had to use my handy Random House dictionary! You would think with that useful tool, I'd be able to come up with better stuff!

I'm too tired to be messed with. I don't want to get you ice-cream or pick through your hair. I don't want to change your pillow case because your wet hair (that I didn't blow dry) made your pillow case damp. I don't want to pray with you tonight because I just want to sit down and veg. My level of patience was never really high in normal conditions. Oh Lord, you've seen the destruction my tongue has dished out. Can you see how frustrating this is for me friends? Moments with family are a blessing and can be wasted too easily because I tend to view the everyday as mundane. I see how important it is to hold tightly to each moment I have with my family because life can change in an instant. And the last memory is haunting. I know this too well now. But I still struggle. Why can't I be a better mommy and wife?

Why can't I be a better mommy and wife?

I'm not sitting enough with you Lord. I'm not quieting myself before you often. I'm not in your Word enough. But I'm trying. I'm trying.

And this grief thing - it's switching itself up on me. Out-of-the-blue I'll start crying. I'm missing Michelle more and more. I'm remembering our fun times together more often. It still surprises me that someone I love is gone. How terrible it is to be blind-sided like that. One moment I'm sitting at our fire pit, the next moment I'm leaning over my friend in a hospital ER bed, embracing my brother, dropping tears on her still body. My mind can't fully comprehend it, 9 months after.

I'm in transition. A transition from being a stay-at-home mom to a mommy working outside the home. A transition from finding quiet time with the Lord in the mornings to - - I'm still trying to figure that one out. A transition from one scene of grief to another, and preparing to transition if and when hubby changes careers. Where is "the waiting" now? Long gone my friends, long gone.

Confusion In The Cerebral Cortex

If you would have been able to randomly eavesdrop in on my thoughts throughout today, perhaps you'd find those thoughts - - interesting. Clinically - interesting.

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• "If he IS actually 5 ft. 6 in., then I'm 5 ft. 6 in. too, and I know I'm only 5 ft. 2 3/4 in., so that means he must be lying."

• "OOPS! Not again!"

• "I don't want to cut the toes off."

• "I've been unsuccessful in growing a winter beard. The best I can do is a thin mustache."

• "Oh man, he saw his damn shadow."

• "Boy, this bag of rabbit food is heavy!"

• "I really need to start lifting the weights Dean The Physical Therapist gave me."

• "Mom would have thrown the buns away."

• "Oh, it's report card day!"

• "Tomorrow's going to be a day from hell."

• "Let it snow, Let it snow, Let it snow!"

• "I don't have the mind power to write well."

• "Is she drunk?"

• "Why is that kid riding his bicycle - it's dark out and it's snowing and he should be eating supper with his family. I would never let my kid out like that - where are the kid's parents? What are they thinking? Do they know where he is? Are they drunk?"

• "This guy has Mafia connections."

• "What a goober."

• "How does Little Miss do so well on her spelling tests? She has no academic ambitions."

• "A corn will go nicely right there."

• "Celebrations! I just successfully e-scripted a prescription!"

• "Who is Lorraine and was I in with her?"