My oldest is very creative, but he wasn't feeling it lately. For three days, he would say to me, "I don't feel creative." It was making him sad.
We had a talk about our identity not coming from what we could do, and we talked about not letting our emotions control us. Feelings can't always be trusted. A hard lesson to learn for some.
David & I have had to make a lot of major decisions at work lately. It's exhausting and unnerving some days. It's not all reindeer games. We've both been carrying a lot of extra anxiety that we shouldn't.
A little over a year ago, my marriage was attacked when we were least expecting it. Before I knew it, I felt like I was drowning in a sea of confusion. Every day was a gasp for air as I tried to sift through and separate the truth of God from the lies of the enemy. When we are weak and broken, it can be hard to decide what is true. It can feel impossible.
Work has been a wild race the past couple of weeks. It's like Christmas, but it's Mother's Day gifts and cards and Cemetery Arrangements instead of Christmas trees, glitz, and glitter. Life, in general, seems to be crazy in May. No one seems immune to all the hustle and bustle the end of the school year brings.
Sometimes I wonder if we have a need to be known, because we are made in the image of the Creator who wants to be known by us....And I think about all the people who are trying desperately to be KNOWN for something by someone.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about a situation I witnessed in a parking lot. I was loading things into my car and heard a woman yelling. At first, I thought she was yelling at someone in another car. And maybe she was, but then, she was DEFINITELY screaming, in the parking lot, at her teenage daughter, I assumed.
Recently, I was talking to a well respected lady in my community. We were both laminating over how we had both, in different ways, been attacked by people. We both said, "Me, too," a lot as we shared our hearts about how it feels to be hunkered down behind a shield while arrows of lies were flung toward us full throttle.
It can be a paralyzing, anxiety ridden day, month or season of life.
Spencer got a Nintendo DS and game for Christmas. He lost the game and couldn't find it anywhere. I spent a big part of the day yesterday helping him clean up his room and Isaiah's room to see if we could find it.
We looked in the couch, under the couch, behind the freezer, in drawers, in the car. Every. where.
Isaiah looked. David looked. We had all looked.
I know I am not alone when I speak about hurt and pain. I know that everyone whom has lived on this earth for any length of time has had his/her fair share of suffering. There was a time in my life where the hurt seemed unbearable and permanent. I had been hurt to the core of my heart by someone I loved. Usually, those we love the most are the ones with the capability to hurt us the deepest.
Usually, those that hurt us are dealing with their own hurt and pain. The hurt they cause isn't always intentional. It's a sign that their heart could be broken or unwell.
All I knew to do was pray and read God's word. In the midst of my struggle, I was not immune to Satan's lies. I began to really process a lot of life's events and noticed a pattern of being hurt by those I loved the most. Loving people has always been easy for me, as well as loving deeply and with my whole heart.
In a fleeting moment, Satan tried to tell me one of the biggest lies he has ever thrown at me, "You were created to be hurt." What the what?
Yesterday during church, we were singing "Set My Heart" and one of the verses is:
You make a way when none is found
You tell the roaring ocean to bow
I believe you’re moving even now
Right here, right now
During the song, I received a fresh revelation of the story of Peter walking on the water toward Jesus. As long as he kept his eyes on Jesus, he stayed on top of the water. As soon as he started focusing on the waves and the storm, he began to sink. It's a story I have heard a thousand times, and I know what it means, but it meant something new and fresh to me yesterday.
2016 has been full of opportunities to quit. There were times I wanted to quit on relationships. There were days at work that I wanted to run away and hide. There was even a time when quitting on my marriage ran through my mind.
I have been a bit on the weepy side lately. Maybe it's because I am coming up on the one year anniversary of my Dad's death, maybe it's because my ten year old is getting closer to the teenager years with each passing day, or maybe it's because of all the new bouncing babies that are popping up continuously on my Facebook timeline. Yes, I am that girl that watches "A Baby Story," doesn't know the family but cries uncontrollably. Babies that are joining us on our earthly journey always get me right in the tear duct.
My Dad is the only person I have ever watched die. Such a painful and fresh wound on my heart. I remember one of his final nights of full awareness. The room was dark and quiet. My Momma, brother and I gathered around his bed as he called us in closer. My Dad is the only person I have ever watched die. Such a painful and fresh wound on my heart. I remember one of his final nights of full awareness. The room was dark and quiet. My Momma, brother and I gathered around his bed as he called us in closer.
Recently, I traveled out of town to North Carolina to attend a conference. After the conference was over and my bags were packed, I caught a cab to the airport. Since I am a paranoid planner, I arrived at the airport the suggested two hours ahead of time to make sure I smoothly maneuvered my way through security and found my gate.
I walked along the edges of the beach just enough for the water to tickle my toes when I spotted her. I was watching my own children splash in the waves. My eyes darted back to her as she elegantly walked into the water, not seeming to have a care in the world, blond curls blowing in the wind.
One of the first meaningful things I learned about my husband when I met him was that he had struggled with a severe anger problem earlier in his life. He told me stories of how angry he would get, sometimes knocking holes in walls.
