Showing posts with label About Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label About Me. Show all posts

Identity


 Identity.


It's something that's been shifting a little bit for me lately.

"Shifting" is an interesting word that just flew on the page...made me realize that parts of my identity have been built on sinking sand instead of the Rock that never moves. Let it shift, Lord. Shift right out from under me until my feet land on the Rock.

Woman
Daughter
Sister
Wife
Mom
Friend
Christian
Writer
Entrepreneur
Business Builder

Some parts of me are firmly on the Rock...others are shaking a bit. It's good...new wine needs new wine skin.

But have you noticed how the shift from one wineskin to the next is a vulnerable and sometimes painful feeling?

Like being momentarily skinned alive, even?!

The vulnerable uncertain in-between feels raw and naked and tender.

But then, the excitement of settling in a new home...a new skin with more stretching capacity than the old. The new skin feels like POTENTIAL.

Change is in the air. I don't know exactly what's coming, but God's given me clues in dreams and words and visions... Things that have been confirmed by others who seek Him. We're in a season of being "established"....but seasons change... ARE changing.

As for me and my role/identity?

🌸This body is for the Lord (1 Cor 6:13)

🌸THIS is the time for which I was created.

🌸I am anointed and sealed by God

🌸I am a blood-washed, Spirit filled DAUGHTER of the King Most High.

🌸I am His and He is mine.


I really don't need to know more than that 💕


Read more...

Weakling

I'm finding out that I'm quite the little whiny girl.  A weenie.  A whimp.


This 1/2 marathon I've signed up to do really has me stressing! I ran just over 3 miles on Tuesday, and just over 4 last night.  And I felt good after my run last night - really good - like I could have gone longer.  But then as I was standing in the kitchen doing dishes after a leisurely, dinner, it dawned on me...if I had set out to run 13 miles instead of 4?  I'd still be running right now.  That realization did something strange to my tummy.  It made my dinner do a summersault and by bladder scream "gotta go now!"  

But then I thought, hey - I'm just getting started here.  Saturday I'll run 4 and a half, maybe 5.  Sunday I'll try to kick it up to 6.  I'm pushing pretty hard to get my distance up so that I have time to do some trails and hills before the big day.  Yeah.  Listen to me.  I'm in training.

And then I hopped on the Robie Creek website this morning to get some info.  What I learned made my tummy and bladder do that thing again.  The first 8 1/2 miles (eight and a half MILES) are all.  UP.  HILL.  In those first 8 1/2 miles we climb 2,072 feet.  On a dirt trail.

This run has consumed by brain lately.  The fear.  The excitement.  The planning.  And what I'm learning about myself isn't entirely pleasant.  I fear that I'm physically just...weak.  And mentally?  Even more weak.

13 miles, folks.  I've never run 7 miles in my life, never mind 13.  Never mind up hill.  Never mind in the mountains where the oxygen isn't what I'm used to.  Never mind on a dirt trail.

Thankfully, they allow iPods.  That's truly my saving grace right now.  I've learned one thing - a good sermon or lecture totally takes my mind off my pain (maybe I should have tried a good book on tape while in labor with the kids).  And when the sermon is over...I'll move on to the Black Eyed Peas.  Call me a hypocrite if you'd like, but I'm gonna do what I gotta do to get up that hill.  There's a place for "Hold Me Jesus", and there's a place for "Shake Your A$$ Girl".  On that mountain?  I'm gonna save the Jesus music for the downhill!

Will the Lord answer my plea for help if I'm calling out to him while raunchy music straight from the Pit of Hell is blasting my ear drums?

See?  Weak.

Read more...

I Just Don't Want To Be This Person

What's the difference between who you are and what your personality is?  


Who I am in Him is the easy part - I'm a daughter of the King.  I'm loved by the creator of everything that is.  I have an eternal future filled with joy and peace.

But who I am this side of heaven in a practical and everyday way - that's not so easy.  We all know that what we DO is not who we are - it's just what we do.  I'm talking about deep down, in the dark and quiet, when no one else is around...who is this in my body?  These thoughts running through my mind - are they me?  These feelings that shift like the wind - are they me?

The reason I'm doing all this "belly-button exploring" (who am I, where did I come from, why am I here)...is that I'm trying to figure out what to do about my meds.

I feel like there are two of me.

There's a feisty, passionate, ornery Daiquiri.  She's fun and outspoken and bold.  But that Daiquiri?  She also cries a LOT.  She hollers at the kids a lot.  She walks around with ugly and angry thoughts of anger and resentment occupying her mind.  She stands in her closet for 15 minutes trying to choose a shirt to wear, feeling totally overwhelmed by a simple choice.  She doesn't give a damn if the laundry or dishes are done.   She avoids mirrors like the plague because she feels so repulsive.  She sees her kids looking at her with questions in their eyes, "Why is Mommy mad?"  "Why is Mommy crying?"  They tell me silly jokes to try and cheer me up.

And, with enough mind-altering drugs in my body, there's another Daiquiri.  A peaceful, happy, strong wife and mom.  Someone who cares if the dishes and laundry are done.  She's reliable and consistent and productive.  

At this point in my life, it seems that the Daiquiri I must choose is obvious.  But I don't want to choose!  I don't want to be this broken person who can't have all parts of me at the same time.  

Mentally, I know that depression is a physical illness that needs treatment.  I can encourage other people all day long.  But when it comes to me?  I admit, I feel weak to need meds.  I feel like there's something wrong with me...not just in my chemically screwed up brain, but at the very heart of who I am.  

I want to be whole.  I want to be happy.  I want my kids to have a mom who they can count on and feel safe with.  AND I want to have that spark and spunk that has always been such a part of me.  

This person?   Who it seems I really am?  I don't want to be this person.

Read more...

As It Turns Out, I'm A Tad Ornery

I'm rediscovering the "real" me lately. As you might know, I've struggled with depression since the birth of my second child. It rolled into my life like a black cloud that overshadowed every possibility for joy. Thankfully, I have wonderfully observant and supportive friends and family. They saw what what happening even when I couldn't, and insisted that I get help.

I began taking an antidepressant that seemed to me like a miracle pill. It was the kind of healing that I didn't want. I didn't want to have to take medication to be a good mom. But that's exactly who I've been for the past 5 years. Sometimes God answers prayers in ways I'd rather he not!

My depression is strongly linked to hormones. I could feel the clouds rolling in or out based on what trimester of pregnancy I was in & whether or not I was nursing a baby. But guess what? I'm done with all that! (sniff sniff) It's been about 4 months since I weaned Thomas, and I'm feeling strong. I'm ready to see what's going on under this medication.

It's not that I'm opposed to being on medication for life, if necessary. But if I don't need it? I don't want to medicate a problem that doesn't exist anymore. So I've been (with my doc's blessing) been weaning myself off. 10 mg...5 mg...2.5 mg...2.5 mg every other day. It seems to be going fine so far.

But like I said, I'm being reminded of a few things about myself.

For example, Hubby and I were watching "Brothers and Sisters" last night (or "Brothers and Psychos" as Hubby calls it). I was sitting there half watching TV and half embossing a big order of note cards. Normally, I'd sit there and just be entertained, but as I watched the drama unfold on TV, I got sucked in more and more. To my surprise the "old" ornery Daiquiri made an appearance . "Come on, quit your whining! What are you a Girly-Man?!" I said to the guy on TV. "YEAH...get that jerk out of your company. It's sneaky and maybe illegal, but DO IT!"

I think hubby was a bit alarmed. He kept looking at me from the corner of his eye and grinning. He might have been entertained. Or he might have been secretly planning how to escape.

Am I making myself sound like I have a split personality or something? Yeah, I'm sounding a bit psycho.

I'm not, I promise. I'm just feisty! The real me...under these meds...I'm ornery, feisty, opinionated, passionate. Man, it feels good to be feeling myself again!

I don't know what's going to happen over the next few months. I will undoubtedly cry more. I will get frustrated and irritated more. But I only want to medicate an illness...not LIFE, ya know? Hopefully, everything will level out and I'll be on a roller-coaster...but a real-life-mommy roller-coaster...not a my-brain-isn't-working-I-can't-stand-the-pain-or-get-out-of-bed ride.

So here's to life. Here's to feisty-ness. Here's to meds that saved my butt, but that I hope I don't need anymore. And here's to the guy who cut me off in traffic today. Normally I'd pray for you, but today I just got angry and honked the horn...sorry 'bout that, I'll pray for you and me both now.

*********************************************
I can't, in good conscience, wrap up this post without a bit of a disclaimer: If you're struggling in ways you've never struggled before...if you're having a hard time dealing with life...if you can't remember the last time you genuinely laughed or smiled or felt joy....PLEASE get help. There's nothing wrong with you, just like there's nothing wrong with a diabetic who has to take daily meds. Depression is a real physical illness, and there is great hope to be found in modern medicine. Allow yourself to get the help you deserve. The help your family deserves. They need you to be healthy.

Read more...

Memory Lane - Part 3

I almost forgot about these Memory Lane posts!

Forgive me for messing up the "order" of things. In Part 2 I was still a mere babe of a few months old. But these are the pictures that really touched me today, so this is what you're gettin'!

In these photos, I'm between 2 and 3 years old...about my Sammy's age. Is it me or does she look a little like me?

I just adore this first picture. First of all, I have CURLS! I've had stick straight hair as long as I can remember. Oh...I hope that doesn't mean Sammy's going to lose her beautiful curls. Maybe I'll just never cut her hair so we don't have to worry.

Second, see that high chair? Every one of my babies has sat in that exact high chair...metal tray and "genuine Naugahyde" seat and all. At one point, my Dad put that material (was going to say fabric, but I'm not sure it works!) on the high chair and our dining room chairs. Those dining room chairs now sit in my dining room! Although I replaced the Naugahyde with a more traditional fabric. Clearly, I did so before having children. These days I'm thinking of putting some Naugahyde back on! That Daddy of mine...he knows his stuff.

And third - the cake. My Mom made us a double-decker chocolate cake with chocolate frosting every single birthday. It's still my favorite. My mom? She knows her stuff too.



Hey, look at that plate! I have a bowl that matches that plate in my cupboard right now. I just love having little bits and pieces of my childhood around my house :)

Can I just say...it bugs me that these two pictures have such different color tones. Flash in one but not the other maybe?



Here's my beautiful Mama and Grandma showering me with gifts. Look at that cheesy grin again...



Looks like I got a big-wheel for my birthday. And that grin again...I'm detecting a pattern here. The thought of my Mom and Dad giving me a big-wheel for my 2nd birthday absolutely blows my mind. Although at the time, I NEVER would have known because I had every single thing my little girl heart desired...but looking back (and from stories Mom and Dad tell), we were B.R.O.K.E. back then. Mom and Dad were very young and Dad was in school. Let's see...if I was turning two, then we were living in Oshkosh, Wisconsin and Dad was going to school to get his degree in nursing.



Here's that silly grin again. See? I had everything I ever wanted...my Mommy and Daddy. The needs of a little girl are really quite simple. Hey, look at the old picture of Grandma and Grandpa!


I gasped when I saw this picture...my Sammy "does the dishes" every single day! She cracked me up yesterday. She said, "Mama, I want to do the dishes with you."

"Well, sweetie, but I'm not doing the dishes. I'm vacuuming right now."
"Okay, I see."
(pause)
"Mama?"
"Yeah?"
"Mama, I want to do the dishes without you."

This picture was taken in my Grandma's house. Man...that kitchen saw a lot of parties, a lot of card playing, and a lot of yummy meals. Evidently, it also saw some remodeling because I don't remember it looking like that at all!
Uh oh. It looks like these pictures don't quite belong in this time line, but I love them, so I'm including them today. This is me with my Grandpa (Dad's Dad). Isn't he handsome? This photo was taken at his house - it seemed he always had a comfy chair in that particular corner. If my memory is right, there was a bedroom off this family room which held Grandma's organ. She played for their church. See that painting on the wall? Grandpa's brother (Father Rich) was an incredible artist...and a priest...we didn't call him Fr. Rich for nothin'. My Catholic roots run deep. Grandpa loved the church.

Oh. Yes they did.
Let's see...1976...I had just turned 3 years old. This is just how old my Sammy is right now. I don't know where they got the idea to take these crazy New Year's pictures...I assure you that this tradition didn't last many years. Thankfully. :)

Stay tuned for the next installment of Memory Lane - this is fun!

Read more...

All In Good Fun

I just took a Facebook test...the "Dr. Phil Personality Test". My results are that I'm the "Lively Center of Attention." Well, that's a little embarrassing!

The detailed description said: "You are emotionally unbalanced and there is an immediate risk of a psychotic break. Please seek help immediately."

Just kidding! But that would have been funny, don't you think? It actually said: "Others see you as fresh, lively, charming, amusing, practical, and always interesting; someone who's constantly in the center of attention, but sufficiently well-balanced not one to let it go to their head. They also see you as kind, considerate, and understanding; someone who'll always cheer them up and help them out."

What do you think, friends? Accurate or not? (The second description, folks, not the first. If you think the first one is more accurate, I don't even want to know!) ;)

Read more...

Because What Mom Doesn't Like To Talk About This?

Shannon, over at (one of my favorite blogs of all time) Rocks In My Dryer, is doing this surprise meme in honor of Labor Day. Thought I'd join in...

How long were your labors?
Kid #1: 16 hours
Kid #2: 7 hours
Kid #3: 6 hours
Kid #4: 9 hours

How did you know you were in labor?
#1: Started having contractions...they got stronger...they got more regular...and hubby got me to a hospital
#2: Was in the doctor's office for an exam. She said "Oh my! You're a good 6 centimeters! Go to the hospital NOW!" I hadn't been having painful or consistent contractions. No fair, I know.
#3: Was 4 cm dilated again, just like with #2. Doc was willing to let me go for a while (new doctor), but I was nervous. Scheduled an induction.
#4: Yep...a good 5 cm again with no effort (yes, you may hate me, but only for a little while). Again, scheduled an induction to ensure I didn't deliver in the car on the way to the hospital.

Where did you deliver?
Hospital with the very best reputation for NICU care and L&D care. I'm picky that way.

Drugs?
#1: No. Bad, poor, unwise, unnecessarily painful choice! I wanted to do it as "naturally as possible". Isn't that sweet? And stupid? I pushed for almost 3 excruciating hours with that kid! At one point during labor, I started sobbing. Everyone thought it was because I was in so much pain. I was actually crying for my sweet hubby, since clearly, I was DYING and he would be without his wife or new baby. Since I was DYING. No joke.
#2: Most definitely.
#3: Yes, ma'am.
#4: I considered going natural for, oh, 4 seconds.


C-section?
No, thankfully. Although, do you think they could have done a tummy tuck while they were at it if I had? I've always wondered if I missed an opportunity there...

Who delivered?
#1: Doctor, who did such a great job of working with me through all the screeching about me dying.
#2: Hubby! Just before the baby made her appearance, the doctor turned to hubby and said, "You wanna deliver your daughter?" He gloved and gowned up, and made it down there just in time to help guide her out, get the cord off her neck, and hand her to me. It was a really incredible moment!
#3: Doctor
#4: Doctor

Go see Shannon for other Labor Day labor stories :)

Read more...

Just Call Me A *SUPERSTAR*!!

I'm a member at 5 Minutes For Mom, and they just published an interview with me! Kinda silly...but if you'd like to check it out, click the button above.

The clutsy, stumbling, fidgeting, goofball, "Mary Catherine" always cracks me up. She's my kind of SUPERSTAAAA :)


Read more...

Seek The Lord Sunday: My Testimony


This week's topic for STLS is to share your testimony, otherwise known as your personal story of how you came to know the Lord and made the choice to become a Christian. I'm looking so forward to hearing all of your stories! I just love to see how God works in people's lives.

Many people have a very defined moment in their life when they chose to become a Christian. I can't say that I have a story like that. In fact, when people ask me when I was saved, I have a really tough time answering them! I guess it really doesn't matter, the date and time...what really matters is that I'm His child NOW...and the one who needs to know the intimate details of my heart and mind toward God, knows all He needs to know.

I was raised in a Christian home. To be more specific, I was raised Catholic. I remember Sunday school and church being a regular part of our lives. I have fond memories of sitting with my family in church, and of some of the great songs we sang. I can't remember any one sermon in particular that touched me, but the music always did :) (I am no longer Catholic...I'll explain if you'd like in another post).

More important than mass and Sunday school though, I remember my parents being an example of Christian living (well, mostly...but can any of us really claim more?). I don't remember specifically reading the Bible as a family, but we talked about what was discussed in church, we were taught a Biblical way of living even if the Bible wasn't quoted, and my parents live a life of service that is an awesome example to us girls.

My two earliest personal memories of God as a child are:

1. Saying the "Now I lay me down to sleep...if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take". I was about 9 years old. After praying that prayer, I heard that still, small voice ask me "Do you?" I knew exactly who was asking and what He meant. I thought about it, and answered, "Yes, I do." In my heart of hearts, I believe that I was His from that point forward.

2. We watched the story of Christ's Passion on TV when I was the same age. To this day, I can still easily recall the look of horror and suffering on the face of the actor who played Jesus as they pounded giant nails through his hands. I was devastated. I lay in my bed that night and cried, wishing that He didn't have to suffer, and thanking him for loving me so much.

From that time in my life, I have countless stories of God working in my life. I hope to get them all document on my blog some day...but not today.

I would love to be able to say that I was on fire for the Lord from my childhood on, but the truth is that I lived an essentially "fruitless" life. And when I did bear what seemed to be fruit, it wasn't for His glory, it was for mine. I was self-centered, selfish, prideful, and seeking my own will. The sin in my life that I justified to myself and God...I just don't even want to think about it! Ugh.

When I was 30 years old, I had what I call a "spiritual crisis". I had begun reading a New Age book which challenged every single belief I had about God, Jesus, and the Bible...not to mention who I was relative to God.

So I began searching. I scoured the internet for information about every version of religion that I could think of. I went to talk to a priest. I talked to friends. I talked to co-workers. I asked all sorts of questions that no one seemed to be able to answer to my satisfaction. I tried to read the Bible, but it seemed a jumble of confusion, contradiction, and mystery.

And suddenly, it hit me (aka. God showed me!)...I held very hypocritical views regarding the Bible. I accepted what I "liked", and rejected what I didn't. I accepted the parts that seemed to represent "The God I know", and I rejected the parts that didn't fit with the picture of God I'd created and wanted to believe. I found myself saying things like "I know that's what the Bible says, but that doesn't seem right to me, so it must not be true!"

So I realized that I had to come to terms with the Bible. What is it? Where did it come from? How reliable is it? Does it contradict itself?

I searched and searched and searched. I became satisfied that the Bible was accurate from a historical, scientific, and practical standpoint. But still...I didn't like some of what it said! How could it be that God could be so socially unacceptable?! Doesn't He want us to love Him? Then why does He make it so complicated?!

Then, one day, I felt God speak to me in such a powerful way that I could not ignore Him in that moment. He was telling me that I had enough information, and that He wanted me to make a choice about Him and His Book. Now. Right that very moment.

And finally, in that painful and sweet and humbling moment, I fell to my knees before the Almighty God. My prayer to Him went something like,

"Okay! I don't understand the Bible. It's confusing to me. It seems to say things that I don't think are true. The parts I do understand, I don't like very much! But, oh God...You are God, and I am not. You get to make the rules, and I do not. You know and understand everything, and I do not. From this point forward I accept the Bible as your work. I will live by it to the best of my ability. I will live for you t the best of my ability. Thank you, God, for being so patient with me! I want you, and no other."

And my life was instantly, permanently, and dramatically changed from that moment forward. This post is getting so long (can you tell I love to talk about how amazing my precious Lord is!?)...I'll just list some of the ways that my life changed since I became, what can only rightfully be called, "Born Again":

1. The very DAY that I prayed, my eyes were opened in a miraculous way toward the Bible. I had a consuming passion for it...so consuming, it felt like a physical need akin to thirst or hunger. I just couldn't put it down, and I loved every word. And suddenly, I understood it! God truly gave me the help of His Holy Spirit in understanding the spiritual things of the Word.

2. My feelings toward people changed. All of a sudden, I felt a love for total strangers that I had never known before. I saw all people as either lost sheep or God's children, and I wanted to help them either way.

3. My feelings toward myself changed. I found my proper and humble place before God, and I just never wanted to leave! Although it's sometimes difficult to be on my knees before even God, there is no sweeter place to be.

4. I could not get enough of worship music. I listened to it everywhere I went, and sang and cried through that beautiful music.

5. I finally felt that my life has a true and valuable purpose. I'm not afraid to live, and I'm not afraid to die (not really looking forward to actually dying, but being dead isn't scary to me). I have a certainty and a freedom in Him that I never had before. I belong to Him and he will direct my paths and protect me.

There are more stories I'd like to tell, but I'll save them for later. I want to hear from you now! How did God call to your heart? Tell me about how you answered...



Seek The Lord Sunday Participants
1. Home with Amy
2. Becky
3. Kimberly
4. Abrianna

Learn more about Seek The Lord Sunday here.

Powered by... Mister Linky's Magical Widgets.

Read more...

I Guess It's Goodbye...

Thomas and I are off to Wisconsin tomorrow morning. My alarm is set for (gulp) 4:30 AM. Gag.

I hate saying goodbye to my kids. Why am I so afraid when I have to fly without them? Hubby and I were talking about how I don't think twice about running to the store, when there is a far greater chance of me dying on the way to the store than there is of me dying in a plane crash. Heck, there's a greater chance that I'd fall and hit my head and die at the store! There's a greater chance that I'd be shot to death at the store!

In fact, do you know how many Americans died in commercial plane crashes last year? Zero.

And did you know that there is a greater chance that you will die in an ox-powered cart crash, than in a plane crash? Yes, an ox. A big, hairy animal...pulling a cart. More dangerous than tons of steel flying through the air.

You'd think that I'd feel safe since I know how flying works. I studied engineering in school...I get the mechanics of how they get the thing in the air. I can see why it's so safe.

But when it's me or someone I love? When it involves my children being without their one and only Mommy? Scares me to death.

In fact...you're going to think I'm crazy...but I actually wrote half a post titled "Well, I guess I'm dead!" It was a big long love letter to my family...I just kept getting choked up and decided I was making myself sick for nothing, so I deleted it (I was going to schedule it to publish several days after my return...if I made it home, I'd delete it...if I didn't...well, you get it).

I told hubby about it. Then I went on and on about how much I love him and the kids, and how he's a great daddy, and how even if something happened to me that he should try to find love in his life, and tell the kids every day how much Mommy loved and adored them. I also told him that I know he'd do a great job of taking care of them if I were gone.

He rolled his eyes at me...and then with a teasing twinkle in his eye he said, "It'd be alright. I've never really loved you anyway." I proceeded to punch him. Hard. With knuckles. And giggles. He always gets me to giggle. It's one of the reasons I love him so much. The punk.

So, I'm off! If you think of it, pray for me and for my family while I'm away. Cuz, you know, I hold the whole place together when I'm home (insert chuckle and more eye rolling from hubby here).

I'm all ready for Seek The Lord Sunday, so I'll see you then :)

Read more...

As If You Wanted To Know More About Me

I found a fun personality test this morning. Here are my results:

Click to view my Personality Profile page


I think if you click on it, you can go there yourself to take the test. The results are interesting and all, but the most interesting part is finding out how my "type" compares to the rest of the population. Only 12% of the population as my same personality type, and only 8 1/2 % of women. See? I'm a rare one. Yes, that's rare...not odd! I share this type with one Queen of England, and 6 American Presidents. Move over Hilary!

According to this, my temperament is a "Protector". Here's what they say about it:

"SJs are observant, stable and motivated by a need to maintain security. They are realistic, routinized administrators requiring tasks be completed correctly and that people behave appropriately. SJs make thorough examinations to ensure everything is done according to plan. They make sure no more and no less credit is given than due. When a need arises, they are quick to provide a solution, provided that the need is justified. SJs are not driven by impulse, but rather by concrete fact. By virtue of their reliable, diligent, industrious, persevering nature, they make excellent leaders. "

I am also an "Examiner". And here's what they say about that:

"ISTJs are responsible, loyal and hard working. They have an acute sense of right and wrong and work hard at preserving established norms and traditions. Because of their deep sense of duty they are dedicated to everything they do and are very dependable. ISTJs care deeply for those closest to them."

Isn't it nice how everything comes out sounding so flattering??

I think those closest to me would say something more like...

"She's loyal and hard working. She will not rest, and will not let me rest either. She has an acute sense of right and wrong, and just will not keep her mouth shut about it. She is very dependable, especially when it comes to her devotion to chocolate. She cares deeply for me, and shows it by bossing me around. She must be an oldest child."

I also found this, that you might have fun with: Spiritual Gifts Test (I was so excited to find this one!)

Here are my results from that test:

Gift - Score
teacher 23
prophet 23
giver 20
shepherd 19
mercy shower 18
exhorter 17
helper 15
evangelist 9
administrator 8


Your two highest gifts (gift mix):
TEACHER: That special ability and desire to study God;s Word and share with others what is learned. The teacher enjoys communicating information to individuals or groups (Eph. 4:11-14; I Cor. 12:28; Rom. 12:7).

PROPHET: That special ability to see the influence of evil as did the Old Testament prophets and warn God's people of its damage. The prophet has a deep passion to defend God's reputation, stand for issues. She uses negative motivation, i.e., "thus saith the Lord . . ." (I Cor. 12:10,28; Eph. 4:11-15; Rom. 12:6).

Anyway...I had fun with this this morning, and thought you might too. I'm off to go take a free IQ test (but I probably will not share those embarrassing results).

Read more...

Memory Lane - Part 1

I've had such a great time looking through old photos to do the post in honor of my sister, Megan...it gave me an idea for a new blog series..."Memory Lane".

Since you're here and you're reading my blog, I can only assume that you are at least mildy interested in...well, me. So are you ready? You're going to learn more about me and where I come from than you might want to know.

Are some of you cringing...thinking "Oh boy, I hope she doesn't put that one picture up". I promise to be as respectful and kind as possible. But I'm also going to be honest. And honestly? We're all in the same boat. The 80's...they were just plain BAD from a style standpoint. Yep, the pictures will go up, but we'll all be in it together!

So here goes...fasten your seat belts!

These are the first pictures of me that I know of. According to the back of the photos, I am one week old. Look at my parents! Look how young they were when they became parents! If I've done my math right, they were 18 and 19 years old when they married in 1972...and a mere one year and 4 days later, I rolled into their lives. So they were 19 and 20 years old when they became parents!

**Note to my children: I know everything turned out wonderfully for Yaya and Papa, but you are not to do this! Do you understand? You are to go to college, marry the nice young man or woman I choose for you when you are about 27, and live next door to me. I promise, you'll be happiest if you do as I say.

OK, back to my story.

We were living in Killeen, Texas and it was 1973. Dad was in the US Army. I think Mom stayed home with me...but I'm not sure. How long did we live there? I'm not sure about that either. Mom, Dad, can you help me fill in the blanks?

Can I just say...aren't my parents beautiful people? Look at this handsome man...I can see why Mom dropped out of school to run away to a far away place and marry him (again...kids...don't even think about it)!

They joke about how they had absolutely no clue as to what they were doing when it came to caring for an infant. That picture of my Dad cracks me up a little because I imagine him holding me in that tidy little seat frequently...because maybe he didn't know how to do it any other way. They were young. They were livin' on love. They were far away from their parents and older siblings who might be able to give them some baby wisdom.

I love the picture of my mom for two reasons. First, the peaceful happy look on her face. It's so sweet to see how happy she was. And then...her hair. I never noticed that she had her hair clipped up like that until just now. Guess what my hair looks like at this very moment? I put my hair up like that all the time!

So there you have Part 1 of Memory Lane. I think I still have more Texas pictures to share, and then we'll be on to Wisconsin. Stay tuned!

Read more...

A Gift Of Faith

Then the disciples came to Jesus in private and asked, "Why couldn't we drive it out?" He replied, "Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you." (Matthew 17:19-21)

These verses always remind me of a particular experience in my life, and I thought I’d share it with you today.

There’s something in me that keeps saying, “No!…don’t share it…it’ll make you look dumb…they’ll think you’re crazy…etc.” But there’s another something deep within me telling me that I’m not supposed to listen to that doubt and fear. I’m supposed to share. I’m supposed to tell you about my very own little personal miracle. Here goes.

I was a student at the time, and I was very busy working and playing. I was living in the dorms…even on a campus where sororities were a huge thing…I just couldn’t bring myself to be a joiner. Their little matching sweatshirts…their group giggle…their special days to dress up…ugh – NOT for me! I wanted my own thing. I wanted independence.

My miracle started simply enough…with a little tickle in the back of my throat. You know, that tickle that makes you think “Uh oh. I’m getting a cold.” Sure enough, by the end of the week it was a full blown cold. I suffered through it, and it finally started going away.

Eventually, all of the symptoms were gone but one – the sore throat. I just couldn’t shake that dang sore throat! I was popping cough drops and pain relievers, drinking warm drinks, trying not to talk much…every trick I could think of. It just would not go away. But I was too busy to stop. I was an engineering major…not exactly a curriculum that allowed me to take a week of to stay in bed and heal!

It eventually got so sore that I had to limit my diet to only eat foods that I could swallow easily. Eventually, I was hardly eating anything at all. I also wasn’t sleeping because every time I swallowed or yawned or talked or coughed…it was just pure agony. I don’t know why I didn’t go to the doctor sooner. I guess I thought it was just a cold, and it would go away. You don’t go to the doctor for a cold, right? And like I said…I was just too busy!

I finally dragged myself to the campus doctor. I had lost a bunch of weight, I was exhausted, I was in pain. If it didn’t hurt so much to cry, I would have been crying. Instead, I sat on that bed and just whimpered until the doctor came in.

The look on that doctor’s face when she looked in my throat is something that I can still see in my mind’s eye! She literally gasped and said, “OH! I’ve never seen a throat this bad! You have giant welts on your throat! How are you eating?”

She got me all fixed up with prescriptions. She prescribed an antibiotic, but warned me that it would take a minimum of 24 hours for me to feel any relief…probably more considering the shape of my throat. So she also prescribed some sort of topical pain reliever. I was supposed to put a few drops in my mouth, swish it around, gargle, and…I don’t remember…spit it out? Swallow it? She said it would numb the tissues a bit, and give me some relief. Awesome…hand it over!

Obviously, I was looking forward to getting back to my room to give the stuff a try! I was positively desperate for relief.

And the next part…I remember it like it happened just 5 minutes ago, although it seems so unbelievable and surreal. I guess miracles are like that.

I got back to my room, put the meds on the corner of my desk, tossed my coat on my bed, and sat down at my desk to give the meds a try. I figured I’d take the pain relief stuff first…maybe it would make the antibiotic a little less painful to swallow.

That little bottle of relief was sitting on my desk. I reached for it…gave it a shake…it looked like water to me. It suddenly dawned on me that I had absolutely NO doubt in my mind that as soon as this magical elixir touched my throat, that the pain would simply be gone. I fully expected to get complete (yet temporary) relief, just as the doctor had described. It never…never…crossed my mind that it might not work. I just knew with all that was in me that it would.

And then that voice…that still small voice…said “Now, THAT is faith that can move mountains.”

In that moment I was given a gift…a gift of that kind of faith that can move mountains. I suddenly realized that I had never had that kind of faith before…at least not in God. I had experienced that sort of faith on a daily basis…faith in worldly things. Faith that the sun would come up. Faith that the air I breathe would be there for me the next time I inhaled. Faith that the ground I walked on would meet the bottom of my foot the next time I stepped. Faith that my heart would continue to beat. Faith that the next time I was hungry, there would be something for me to eat. Faith.

The Bible says “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.”

CERTAIN. Not pretty sure. Not hoping that it’s true. Not giving it a reasonably sure chance. CERTAIN.

I had a little church in my dorm room right then and there! I apologized to God…the one who provided the sun and it’s warmth. The one who provided the air. The one who kept the earth solid beneath my feet. The one who created my heart, and then breathed life into my body moment by moment. The one who blessed my life with abundance beyond comprehension!

And in that amazing moment of really understanding to my very core all that God has done for me…all that he does do for me every minute of my life. In that moment…I found real faith that God could also heal my body if I would let him.

I spoke aloud my faith in his ability to heal me. I asked him to heal my throat if it was his will. And then…I felt silly doing this…but I felt the need to show, not only say, but show my faith in him. I tipped my head back, closed my eyes, and just opened my mouth. Sounds crazy, I know. But that’s what I did.

And when I opened my eyes, lifted my head and swallowed…my pain was totally and completely GONE. And do you know what? I was amazed and thankful, but I was not one little bit surprised! That’s how thorough…how certain…my faith had been. It was incredible!

I grabbed my coat and headed to the cafeteria for the first meal I’d had in days. The pain never did come back, and I threw out the bottle of pain reliever without using a drop.

I wish I could say that the incredible moment of faith I’d experienced had lingered. I’ve tried a number of times to sort of conjure it up in me…but I just can’t. It was of God, for God’s purpose in that moment.

I think of it in the same way I think of God giving people his grace to handle impossible situations…he gives them the grace only when it’s really needed. That’s how that gift of faith was. He gave me the faith for that moment, because it was in that moment that he wanted to teach me about the kind of faith that moves mountains. I’m so thankful!

And now I feel like that gift is truly complete, now that I’ve shared it with you. I don’t really understand it all. I don’t have any idea how God does the things he does. And I usually don’t understand why he does the things he does.

Do you think I’m crazy? Do you think it was all in my head? Well, I suppose you’re entitled to your opinion. All I can do is be a witness…to testify of the incredible things that he’s done in my life.

I hope that by my sharing this miracle with you, you’ll be blessed by it too.

Read more...

Can You Feel That?!

That, my Christian friends, is the feeling of freedom!

Ahhh...that's all I can think today. What a relief!

I mentioned recently that I've been talking with a friend about our differing faiths. She told me yesterday that she doesn't want to talk about it any more. When she told me that...I felt a fear run through me. I had been so deeply contemplating her faith, wondering if it was true, praying, and reading...I was sort of putting myself in the mind-set that "if that's what I believed, then..." It was almost as if I WAS the same religion as her for a while. Since we weren't discussing it any longer, I felt I had to make a hard stand right then - do I accept it, or do I reject it? I reject it.

I'm not going to say what religion it is because it really doesn't matter one bit. What matters is that it was not founded on the rock of God's love and grace. It is founded on what people do...how they live...whether or not they're baptised "properly"...whether or not people follow certain rules set forth by them. After all of that is done, and people inevetably fail, THEN they need Jesus to save them.

As I "lived" that religion in my heart and head for a time...it just got so...HEAVY. I was working hard. I was spending so much time thinking about the way I'm living. I was spending so much time thinking about the image I was putting out there in the name of God. I was spending so much time...just working to be good enough. I was spending so much time focusing on me.

It finally came to a head last night. I sat on the couch and just cried my eyes out over how plain and ordinary and average and boring I am. And I'll tell ya what...if I'm going to try and do it on my own, that's all I'll ever be.

If I want an extraordinary life...then it can only be done through Jesus. Once I have him, THEN I can be amazing for him. Not the other way around. I set my eyes on Him first, then the "me" part will naturally follow.

I feel like I weigh about 2 pounds today! Wait, can a 2 pound something float? No? Well, then I feel lighter than 2 pounds.

There really is incredible and awesome freedom in Christ. And after getting a taste of what life would be like if I were trying to earn my way to being worthy of him...oh Lord, I am so very thankful for his grace.

And you wanna hear something even more amazing? That freedom in this life is only a small portion of the joy of following Christ! One day this body of mine will finally give out, and I'll leave it. So where will I go? I get to go be with Him...forever! What will Heaven be like? Honestly...I don't really know, and I don't really care. If I'm with Him then it's all good.

Read more...

My Mascara Got Me Out Of Bed This Morning

Lucky you...today you get a glimpse of the inside workings of my litte brain at 6:58 AM. In case it's not clear, this is a conversation I had...with myself.

C'mon! You gotta get up!

I'm sooo tiiired though!


Well, what's that saying? 'Put on your big girl panties and deal with it?' Yeah. That's it.

Oh shut up. Just five more minutes.


No! You have to get up or you'll run out of time to shower before hubby leaves for work.

I don't care.


Yes you do. You care because otherwise you'll be stuck with jammies, no makeup, and gross hair all day long.

My hair is gross no matter what. I'm post partum. It's falling out. Another good reason to just stay in bed.


Oh, come on. GET UP!

Didn't I tell you to shut up already?


Yes, but I'm not listening. You must get out of bed now. You have to see Ben off to school. You have to feed the baby. You have to be Mommy today.

But what about me? What about what I want? I want to sleep! I barely slept all night. I was too worried about Thomas' breathing. I was up sucking out his nose. I was up feeding him. I was up changing his diaper in the middle of the night. And even when I wasn't up, I just laid here willing him to keep breathing. It's hard work being me! I have needs too...I need to sleep now. Good night.


Hey. You signed up for this gig. You knew there'd be nights like that. You have to get up and do your job, and you have to do it with a smile. You're the Mommy...you set the tone around here. If you're grumpy all day, all the kids will be crabby and on edge. Now quit with the pitty party and roll your hiney out of bed.

No.


Hey, guess what?

I'm not listening.


Well I just remembered something. You bought some new mascara yesterday! It has that new kind of brush, and it's supposed to make you look like a Cover model.

Gimme a break. I'll never look like a Cover model. Not with 10 gallons of mascara.


Yeah, but it'll be fun to try it right?

Oh, I suppose.


Alright then! GET UP.

I'm getting up, I'm getting up. You're a bitch you know.


Hey..watch your mouth!

Sorry.


No problem. I understand. Even I'm tired this morning.

Oh, put on your big girl panties and deal with it.


Read more...

Pro Choice? Pro Life? A Great Article...

One of my favorite bloggers, Shannon from Rocks In My Dryer, has written a very well thought out, logical, respectful article at Blogher on the topic of abortion.


To read her article, click
here. The comments that follow her article are also very interesting. I appreciate that the conversation going on over there is so...civilized.


As for my views...well, if you know me, you know I'm pro-life. I agree with Shannon in that we can not know with 100% certainty just when life begins. If we knew, then it would be easy. But since we do not know, I believe we must err on the side of caution.


How about you? I'd love to have our own little conversation here on this topic. That is, of course, if we can do it nicely! Are you pro-choice? Your thoughts are welcome here. In fact, I'd love to understand where you're coming from. And what about the death penalty? Do you think that the two issues are inherently linked, or do you believe we can be pro-life and "pro"-death penalty?

Read more...

**MY 100TH POST!**


I've been told that it's blogging tradition for a person to list 100 things about themselves on their 100th post. Have you ever tried to come up with 100 things about yourself? It's hard. It's painful. If you don't want to read this post, I will not hold it against you. I don't really want to read it either. Here goes:

1-I was born in Texas.
2-I am the oldest of 3 children – all girls.
3-I have lived in the following states: Texas, Wisconsin, Missouri, Iowa, North Dakota, Idaho, California, Washington.
4-I love dark chocolate. I like to go to a local candy store and buy their dark dipping chocolate by the pound. Yes, that’s right folks…by the pound.
5-I had a dream about my husband before I ever saw him or met him.
6-I love real popcorn: popped on the stove with real butter and lots of salt on top.
7-I’d eat Mexican food every day if I could.
8-I’d rather eat nachos for breakfast than pancakes.
9-When I first started college, I was planning on majoring in Nursing. I ended up graduating with a degree in Mechanical Engineering.
10-I’m fascinated with learning how things work. The human body is the greatest marvel of all. I probably should have stayed in Nursing.
11-The most touching and romantic gift I’ve ever received was from my husband for my last birthday. He made a book, complete with Scripture, family pictures, and his thoughts about how wonderful I am.
12-If there’s ever a fire in this house, I might risk my life to go back in for that book!
13-My dream while growing up was to be a model. Today? I can’t think of anything more ridiculous!
14-I love to create…baking, cooking, quilting, crocheting, scrapping, beading, floral design…I love it all!
15-I could (and would) sleep a solid 12 hours every night if life’s demands let me.
16-I have lots and lots of cousins. I mean LOTS and LOTS. Hold on, I have to go call Mom to have her help my count (my mom is an amazing mathematical genius, by the way). OK, I’m back. I have 12 from my mom’s side of the family and 37 from my dad’s. THAT’S 49 COUSINS!!! (My mom is one of 6 kids, my dad one of 13.)
17-I have so much respect and admiration for my husband. I’m quite certain that he’s smarter than me (don’t tell him I said so), and I’m OK with that.
18-It also helps that I’ve had a schoolgirl crush on the guy ever since laying eyes on him about 12 years ago.
19-I was raised Catholic. I’m no longer Catholic. I still miss some of the beautiful traditions of the Catholic Church.
20-I can’t stand to wear socks to bed.
21-I don’t know exactly when I became a Christian. I was raised in a Christian home…I can’t remember a time when Jesus wasn’t a part of my life. THANK YOU for this, Mom and Dad! What a gift.
22-The first time I remember making a deliberate choice for God was when I was about 9. I said the “If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take” part of my bedtime prayers. After saying “Amen”, I heard that still small voice ask, “Do you?” I knew exactly what He was asking. I thought about it. I said “yes.” I believe I’ve been His ever since.
23-Although they’d be the first to admit they made their share of mistakes in parenting (who doesn’t?!), I wouldn’t change a single thing in the way my parents raised me. I love and admire them both very much. Being born to them is one of my life’s greatest blessings.
24-Most days I still feel like a kid. I wake up, look around and think “THIS is my house? These are my kids? This is my husband? Wow!”
25-I am not superstitious. Black cats? Broken mirrors? Bring ‘em on!
26-I’m practically blind without my glasses or contacts. I hope to raise the funds and courage to someday have Lasik done.
27-I didn’t have my first cavity until I was 30 years old.
28-My personality? I’d describe myself as…Passionate. Feisty. Determined Strong. Loving. Loyal. Dependable. Trustworthy. Wait, am I making myself sound like a Labrador?
29-One of my favorite places on the planet is my parents’ cottage in Wisconsin. The fresh air, the trees, the birds, the water, the campfire…ahhhhh.
30-I’m a tree person. I’d live on 10 wooded acres if I could. With a small lake/pond. And some horses.
31-There are some days that I wish I lived I Wisconsin.
32-I met my husband in college. The story of our first meeting is a cute story; I’ll do a post about it sometime.
33-I’m not really sure how to use a semicolon!
34-I came way too close to marrying the wrong man. Yuck. I can hardly stand to think of what my life would be like right now.
35-I knew I’d met the man I would marry on our very first date. It sounds corny, I know…but it was just like the “magical” moment you see in the movies. He reached over and laced his fingers through mine. A shock went through me. I looked down at our hands, and I honestly couldn’t tell whose fingers were whose. I had to wiggle my fingers to see which ones were mine. I looked at my him, and he had the same look of amazement on his face that I’m sure I had. He still remembers it too.
36-I do not have any tattoos.
37-I do, however, have a pierced belly button. Believe me, it looked much cuter in college before 4 kids!
38-I hope that all of my kids have enough wisdom (and consideration for their Mother) to do neither body piercing nor tattoos.
39-I wish I didn’t, but I love McDonald’s. Every now and then I’ll be grown up enough to order the salad, but I usually order a #1. Yep, that’s a Big Mac with fries and Coke…not Diet Coke…regular, gut busting Coca Cola. Mmmm
40-I love music, but I have pretty much zero talent for it. I played clarinet in junior high and high school, but the last time I tried to play it the dogs both howled and the kids ran crying. I’m not exaggerating. They really did.
41-I love to read. The books I’m reading right now are: The Bible, my new Photoshop book, and The Book of Mormon.
42-I am not Mormon. I’m reading the Book of Mormon to better understand what the faith is about. There is a huge LDS population where I live.
43-I have unusually pointy elbows (came in handy when I played basketball).
44-The scariest thing that ever happened to me was when Samantha got sick. She had a rash, so I brought her to our doctor. He referred me right then to an oncologist. They admitted her to the hospital that day, where she stayed for a couple of days. They eventually did a bone marrow biopsy (no big deal for her, terrible for me) to rule out cancer. She did not have cancer. Praise God. She had a blood disorder that caused her immune system to destroy her own platelets, which gave her a clotting problem. She is completely healed. Again, Praise God.
45-I love to dance with my Dad.
46-I believe that the Bible is God’s literal Word.
47-I believe that Jesus Christ was God in human form. I believe that He died for my sins. I know that I will go to Heaven some day. Not because I deserve it, but because my ticket has been paid in full by Jesus.
48-My favorite color is sort of a burgundy red.
49-I like red wine.
50-I can not…CAN NOT…believe that I’ve only made it up to 50!!
51-My favorite band is Casting Crowns. I think my favorite song of theirs is “Your Love is Extravagant”.
52-I’m only up to 52 things, and I had to call my hubby for help. He came up with a list of 50 things in less than an hour! Some of them are repeats, but I’m using some of his ideas and you can’t stop me.
53-Our bedroom is painted a color called “Pewter Tray”.
54-I can’t believe I drive a minivan with little family stickers on the back.
55-It’s a Ford
56-I don’t think I’ll ever buy another Ford.
57-One of my favorite childhood memories is “getting Daddy”. We’d all pile on top of him and just tickle him and try to pin him down and just show him how tough we were. He’d always say something about his glasses getting broken, and then he’d say something like “Someone’s gonna get hurt, and it aint gonna be me!” He was right every time.
58-I can throw a punch, and it will hurt.
59-We took a honeymoon in Lake Tahoe. I like to play blackjack.
60-I can not roll my tongue. Dear Hubby can though, and so can 3 of our children.
61-It took me 47 days to get to my 100th post. That’s 2.13 posts per day. Do you hate me more for talking so much or for carrying something so silly out to 2 decimal places?
62-I have designed and built custom furniture.
63-I make the best chocolate chip cookies ever. I’ve recently discovered that they’re extra yummy with some of my homemade hot fudge slathered on top.
64-I think Oprah is out of touch with reality…but I still watch her show almost daily.
65-I have a bit of a temper.
66-In college, I broke the binding of my chemistry book by throwing it against a wall.
67-I really don’t like chemistry much.
68-I am ticklish.
69-I once knew how to calculate how long it would take to cool a room by leaving the refrigerator door open.
70-I like to prove people wrong when they tell me I can’t do something.
71-I’m a bit afraid that my daughters have my personality. Lord, help us all.
72-One time in high school I went on a date, and we made it back to my house after my curfew. Since I was already late and I knew I’d be in trouble, we sat in the car in my driveway for over an hour despite (or to spite) my parents flipping the lights on and off to tell me to come inside. We were just talking, I swear.
73-My parents didn’t believe me.
74-I was grounded for a really long time for that one.
75-We really were just talking…OK, maybe there was a kiss or two.
76-Yuck. I hate the thought of ever having kissed anyone but the man I am now married to.
77-My best girlfriend lives approximately 72 steps from my back door. I love that!
78-My Mom is one of my best friends. We talk almost daily. She’s an amazing woman…I’m still hoping to grow up to be like her!
79-I was in a fist fight once.
80-I’m not proud of it.
81-I got my very first checking account when I was in high school. My husband and I still have that account.
82-I’m sentimental. I don’t like to get rid of things because almost everything has a sweet memory associated with it.
83-My husband is comfortable with much more debt than I am.
84-Our current financial goal is to get ourselves completely out of debt, to put a nice nest egg away, and to start investing using some of Dave Ramsey’s methods.
85-I am so relieved!
86-I don’t have nearly the temper that I used to. Being married to the most relaxed, happy, easy going guy in the world has done good things for me.
87-If I had to choose one person to be stranded on a desert island with, I’d choose my husband.
88-Since I have been married, I can count the number of times I’ve mowed the lawn on one hand.
89-I have been physically and instantly healed through prayer (I’ll write a post about that some day – amazing!).
90-I need a piece of chocolate after each meal.
91-I have always wanted to run my own business.
92-My teeth used to be so bad that they had to expand my upper palette before braces would even work. It was either that or have about 6 teeth pulled. I’m glad my parents chose the more patient option.
93-I went through an unusually and astoundingly ugly…ugly phase. Bad teeth, acne, terrible perm, way too skinny, blue mascara and eye shadow, bad posture, gloomy attitude. The only thing that could have made it worse was the parachute pants I so desperately wanted.
94-I pester my husband for his opinion about my hairstyle all the time. “Do you like it this way, or that way better?”, “Look at this picture, should I cut my hair like that again?”, etc. One day, after 10 years of pestering, he finally gave me his opinion in detail. I had a hair appointment that afternoon. I didn’t take his advice.
95-I’m pretty sure that there’s one man on this planet that would put up with me, and I’m married to him.
96-This is the longest post I’ve ever written.
97-This is, I’m quite certain, the longest post I ever will write.
98-I’m more than a little nervous about the impression I might be giving you all with this list.
99-I’m beginning to wonder if this whole “100 facts on your 100th post” is just a hoax to get me to reveal embarrassing details about myself.
100-It literally took me two days to write this post, and I am so happy to be done! If you read this whole list, wow, I’m impressed. I really am. Now let’s get back to me boring you with the details of my every day life…

Read more...

Post Partum Depression

~Safe In Daddy's Arms~

Wooohoo! Aren't you thrilled and excited to read a post with a title like that?! Ha! The reason I titled it so bluntly and simply is because I want it to be easy for people to find if they're searching for the topic. It's a topic that's tough to "pretty up" anyway.


Why on earth am I talking about such a thing, you ask?


Well, in an effort to be honest in this blog about who I am, I think it's only fair to be honest about this too ("keepin' it real" as some would say). I struggle with depression.


I wanted to do a post about this for 3 reasons. First, the reason I just stated...to keep things real around here. Second, I know I'm not alone. When I was first struggling, I was hurting and confused and didn't know what to do. I would have loved to talk to someone who had been there. I'm hoping to be a help to other moms out there. And third, as a Christian, I feel a duty to tell everyone who will listen about God and what He's done in my life. In my times of great pain, God's grace has been made clear to me.


This is a good place for a disclaimer: I AM NOT A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL. My goal here is to share my experience. I do not claim to be an expert about depression. I write this post as a friend and fellow woman only. If you are struggling, PLEASE talk to your doctor. If your doctor doesn't take you seriously, then find a different doctor. If that doctor doesn't take you seriously, then find another. Keep finding another until you find one who will listen to you and will help you. You are not crazy. You are not defective. You are not a bad mom or wife. You do not somehow deserve this. You can not reason or sleep or exercise or eat or otherwise convince yourself to get better. This is a real illness, and you need help. There are tons of online resources like this, this, this, this, and this. But there's no substitute for a real, flesh and blood doctor.


OK, back to my story.


I call it post-partum depression because it started when I was post-partum...after the birth of my second child. I had a brief window of relief just before I got pregnant with my 3rd baby, but there's something about pregnancy and breast feeding hormones that really affect me in a nasty way. And I've been either pregnant or nursing a baby for the past...holy cow...did I do the math right?...6 1/2 YEARS! I just gave birth to my 4th child about 3 months ago, and am nursing him now.


How did I know that I was depressed? I didn't. All I knew was that I cried a LOT. I was angry a LOT. And I was overwhelmed a LOT. I also didn't feel like doing much of anything, even the stuff that I used to really enjoy. I spent much of my time just walking around the house weeping. I could not, for the life of me, do the dishes or laundry or any other housework. It was almost physically painful to even think about doing housework, and having such a messy house made me feel like I was failing somehow. All I really wanted to do was to crawl under my covers and sleep...for the rest of my life.


It was finally a comment from one of my sisters (who is a registered nurse), that woke me up to the possibility that this could be depression. But I still didn't truly take it seriously. Me? Depressed? I don't think so! I thought that all I needed was some "me time"...some more sleep...some more exercise. So my dear hubby did all he could to make those things happen. He let me sleep in. He got me a gym membership, and he gladly watched the kids as I went to the gym for 3 hours, 3 days a week. I had great legs...but was still not "right". I finally went to my doctor for help.


I wish I could say that going to the doctor was my first step in getting better. In fact, I felt very patronized by my doctor. They had me take a depression screening test that had questions like "Do you always feel sad?", "Do you never feel like doing things that you once enjoyed?" I didn't feel always or never about anything, so I scored very low on their dumb test. The nurse looked over my test, said something like "Oh, you've just got the blues, honey." She sort of patted me on the shoulder, gave me a sample packet of antidepressants, and said "Take these if you think you need to. Bye now!"


Months went by without me doing anything more. I thought I could simply fight the depression, and it would go away. I thought I just needed to be stronger. I thought I just needed to pray more and have more faith.


So I prayed. I prayed and prayed and prayed. I cried out to God from the very depths of my heart, and begged him to heal me. I begged for a miracle. There were many nights that I snuck off to the bathroom that was farthest away from the bedrooms (so my family wouldn't hear me) and just laid on the floor and cried and prayed. Then I got angry...why was He not answering me? Was He real at all? If He was real, then what was the problem? Did He not care? Oh, what a terrible time!


I finally realized that I was not getting better. Even worse, I was missing my daughter's babyhood. I still grieve that lost time to this day.


I went to our family doctor (it was my OB/GYN that I went to first). That wonderful man sat and talked with me for over an hour! I can only imagine how furious the rest of his patients were! But he talked through everything with me. I finally decided to start taking the antidepressant he recommended. What relief!


I felt "superficial" results within days (the anxiety and impatience). It took several more weeks to feel the "deeper" results (that gut wrenching pain and apathy). But those too went away.


There is one day, in particular, that I remember very clearly. It was a sunny day, and I remember thinking that it was the first bright day that I'd seen in months. The truth was that the greyness...the gloominess that had been covering me was finally lifted. And on that day, my son did something silly an I laughed. The sound of my own laugh startled me so much that I jumped and looked behind me to see what was making the sound! It had been a while since I had really laughed.


But I still had to make peace with the fact that I felt abandoned by God. Where was He in my time of suffering? I finally came to the realization that, simply put, everyone suffers. Even Christians. I am a precious child of God, but I am also a member of this fallen world. God doesn't promise a pain free life. I will feel pain in this lifetime, but I am not alone in my suffering. Jesus himself was sitting there with me as I lay crying on my bathroom floor. And I have hope that my suffering is not for nothing. God will bring good out of my suffering. And the truth is that I felt the Lord's presence so clearly during some of those rough times that it seemed that if I could just look quickly enough over my right shoulder, that I'd be able to see Him. His presence was that real. In a strange way, I miss those time for how close He felt.


I still take medication for depression. I still wish I didn't have to, but mostly I'm just thankful that the stuff is available! Maybe, after I wean my son, I'll work with my doctor to also wean myself off the meds. Maybe I won't . Maybe I'll be on them for the rest of my life, just as a diabetic has to take medication for their illness. I should say this too...I feel like ME on this medication. I don't feel numb or happy all the time. I feel like me. I still cry and get frustrated and angry...it's just not debilitating anymore.


So, that's my story. If you're reading this sentence, then I assume that you've actually read this excruciatingly loooong post! You must have read it because you can relate (in which case, I hope this was a help to you), or it's because you have someone in your life that this post reminds you of (again, I hope this helped), or it's because you must care about me (in which case...thank you!).

Read more...

About Me

She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her.
(Proverbs 31:25-28)


I'm a SAHM to 4 children, and have been married for 25+ years to the love of my life. I am a Christian, and I try to seek after my Lord in all I do. Sometimes I'm successful. Sometimes I fail miserably. I'm always glad He loves me anyway.

My goal is to live my life, run my home, raise my kids, and love my husband in a way that pleases God.

Join me on my journey...someday I hope to be the woman described above...a woman who my children and husband will rise up and Call Blessed.


Read more...



  © Blogger template Shush by Ourblogtemplates.com 2009

Back to TOP