Am I ready?

I am about to write for five uninterrupted minutes on the prompt, ready.  I will re-read it when I'm done and will probably fix the silly typos I always make but I will not edit the content - regardless of how messy it feels.  I hope you like it!


The plan has always been: Have two kids together then adopt one.  That was the plan.  It is the plan...We had the one baby together.  That's Denai.  She is my favorite Denai!  She is way to cute and already "works it" with both of us to get what she wants.  Oh dear.  So, naturally, there should be another baby in the works. 

But am I ready? 

Honestly, I'm not sure I was ready for Denai.  We got pregnant because of my scheduled plans. But it worked.  I got pregnant right on schedule.  So I suppose God was in that.  So I should continue with my schedule ... and see if God honors that as well?

I just don't know.  

See, while I'm still in my twenties, well, let's just say Mr. Sexy isn't getting any younger (love you babe;).  Not that he is too concerned about age anyways.  He is awesome like that. 

I just don't feel ready for another baby like I thought I felt ready for Denai.  

I have three kids.  One I share custodoy, the other I don't but we have our issues, and then there's the baby who already battles me with a stubbrnness I know well.  

I want Denai to have a sibling who is closer to her age.  I am reminded of that when other tiny people come around to play. 

But, another baby?  Another round of diapers?  My body not being my own? Hiding the glass of wine I will enjoy over my pregnant belly? The threat of not having alone-selfish-mommy time? 

Hmmmm....

 

True or false?

More specifically, is the Bible true?  Or is it just a bunch of old and somewhat interesting stories?  Are some stores true and the rest fabricated? 

Mr. Sexy and I rented the new movie, Noah, over the weekend.  It was different than I expected in some ways.  It was better in others.  I'm glad I knew to start the movie with an open mind of someone else's interpretation of the Noah's Ark story. I understand the need/desire to change details or fill in the gaps in order to make a film a blockbuster. 

There are three main things I walked away with after watching. 

1. Some of the details were obviously not in line with the original story.  Other details, well, who knows?  It's sometimes fun to let our imaginations put the pieces together. 

2. Noah and his family were human.  Disgustingly human, even.  You will have to see the movie yourself to see why I use the term, "disgustingly human." 

3. Hollywood's version of Bible stories will generally not be shown to my kids until they know the true story well enough to know the difference between truth and imagination. 

This then begs the question, is the story of Noah true at all?  If not, what about the rest of the stories? Can we decided that some stories are too far fetched but the others could possibly have happened? 

I grew up with all the famous Bible stories and characters. Eventually I got to a point when I had to decide if it was true or not. Jonah being swallowed by a whale and surviving?  Two of every single animal on a boat with the one "perfect" family left while everyone else was essentially murdered?  A father ready to murder his own son?  Incest? Even now, as I make this list, I am thinking of how much the world hasn't changed.  The problems, at their core, remain the same. 

I have decided that the Bible is true from beginning to end with everything in the middle. I have not yet been able to justify that Noah's story would be made up and Jesus' story was not. I have to believe all of it or none of it.  When I tried to pick what I wanted to believe as truth, I tried to disregard what I didn't want to hear. But in the end, I couldn't justify that kind of faith.  In fact, that wasn't faith at all. 

The Bible is complicated.  The stories are difficult to understand. I still struggle with the "why's." Some of the stories I would rather not know because I can't imagine what it would have been like.  But it's all part of history.  It's God's story to us, for us and about us. 

I have been enjoying Hollywood's portrayal of the stories I grew up with and I hope the trend continues. As imperfect as their portrayals might be, I enjoy seeing "perfect" Bible story characters I have heard about my whole life becoming human and therefore, more relate-able. 

Broken Bondage

Mr. Sexy

Mr. Sexy and I got married three years ago. As time moved forward, Mr. Sexy moved slower and complained more. I could see the pain when he went to pick up our baby girl. Life struggles were being written on his face as his under eyes darkened and tension rarely left him. This tension would, at times, spin out of control. We both made choices we now regret. 

After three years of marriage, he is a changed man. 

My new term for him is, "bouncy."  He smiles more and laughs easier. He now sleeps through the night - although he still tends to snore. His thinking is clear and he can smell the flowers he brings home for me as well as the weird musty smell in our mini van. He picks me up without wincing in pain and will rub my back until I fall asleep. This is the man I married.  

His story starts now: 



I lay there breathing heavy in a cold sweat; my mind, lost in a terror tormenting my soul. While my eyes move rapidly I hear the taunts and laughter of others berating me with insults of how pathetic and worthless I am. I awake in a panic, fighting through the fog, trying to discover if that horror is just another dream, or are my secrets now exposed to the world.

For many years this has been my nightmare.

What were my secrets?

Lust, worthlessness, pride, judgement and lack of self-control.


I will never forget the first time I discovered lust. I will also never forget the iron grip it had on me since I was a teen.


I am not able to recall where the feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness began, but I could sit here for days recounting stories of how those controlled me.


Racing thoughts threw blessings by others back into their faces as pride mastered my thoughts. 

I can do anything. 
I don't need any help. 
I hate you for helping me.


If you were in my range of vision, you were judged.

On a scale of 1 to 10, you are a 2 so I don't trust you. 
If you would exercise more you wouldn't be so fat and disgusting.
If only you took care of your body then I would listen to you.
I don't care if you are a child of God, you are ugly so I don't trust you.

On the other hand;

Wow, you are hot!
What do I have to do to get you to like me?
What do you want me to do? 
I will do anything for you because my preconceived judgement based on your outward appearances told me I can trust you.


Good or bad, I threw away all self control and put forth all my effort into anything and everything.

Eat, eat, and eat.
Play, play, and play.
Drink, drink and drink.
Work, work, and work.
Spend, spend and spend.
Sacrifice, sacrifice, and sacrifice.
Workout, workout, and workout.

To what end? It didn't matter. No limits. No boundaries. No wisdom.


Each one of these secrets - let's just call them what they are - sins, gave foothold in my life. Since before I can remember satan's mercenaries began to destroy me.

For many years I allowed the whispers of his demons to persuade my decisions and actions. But that wasn't enough for him. His mission was to kill and destroy me, not simply lead me down troubled paths.

I must give credit to the influence of my family and friends.  Even through my stupid life choices, they were the voice of God guiding me back on the right path. Because of this, the enemy had to get more drastic. The question was, if berating me daily wasn't going to destroy me, then what would?


My body.

I was in sports growing up and I remember being coached to breathe in through my nose and out my mouth. As a young man, my nose was so "clogged" I could never do this without gasping for air. Instead, I fought through the discomfort and did the best I could.

When I joined the Navy in 2002, they were determined to figure out why I couldn't breathe properly through my nose. Twelve years later the best they ever did was diagnose me with Chronic Sinusitis. I went through two surgeries and every ENT medication I could think of with no resolution.

So I decided to live with it.

It was my neck that was killing me.  No, it was my back. No, my hips. My hands. My ankles. Name a joint and it hurt. There were no triggers and no explanation. I went to specialists from Texas to California to Idaho to Washington. They all had the same response: *Shrug of shoulders.* I have given so much blood in lab tests that I am convinced they are cloning me! (OK not really). The pain at times would be so bad in my hands that the simple act of picking up my cell phone felt impossible.


Sleep.

More accurately, my lack of sleep. I was diagnosed with sleep apnea with no medical explanation behind it. On a good night, where I was absolutely exhausted, I would sleep for eight hours with only waking up five or six times. On a normal night I would sleep for six hours and wake up at least every hour - if not more. Some nights I would just give up and stare at the TV.  This had been going on for 15 years.  Coffee was my drug of choice.

Three years ago, my wife and I read the book Spiritual Warfare by Karl Payne. Everything changed. You can read about her experience in the post: Gear Up: We are in War. Recently Payne held a seminar at our home church; we almost didn't go, but what I discovered was that there may be more to my physical pain than the medical world could explain.

I had consistently lost battles with satan and his mercenaries.  I had given them footholds into my life, allowing them to wreak havoc in trying to destroy me.

It was time to fight with my Father's authority!

Weeks later I sat down in my pastor's office and we began to talk.  I was an open book.  There was nothing to hide because there was nothing to fear.

As he began to lay down the ground rules, my heart started to race and thoughts of mockery flooded my mind. Pastor instructed me to read Bible verses, establishing God's authority over satan. I had no idea what I was reading and assumed my mouth and voice were making the right sounds. The noises in my head flooded any chance of understanding the words on the page.

Pastor and I began to work through the process.  My mind quieted except when answering questions by our pastor directed to the tormentors. There was no imagination, no work on my part. I simply stated what I heard.

After cleaning house of all satan's mercenaries, I asked the Holy Spirit to fill any voids.

I was overwhelmed with joy and peace.

I COULD BREATHE!

The joy was so pure, my eyes welled up with tears.

24 hours later I was still discovering little joys of life that I hadn't had in more years than I can remember.

Today, I can still breathe clearly.

Today,  I have no joint pain.

Today, I smiled remembering the dreams I had last night.

I know the fight isn't over.  I am developing tools to keep the ground I regained.

As a society we have become afraid to talk or even acknowledge the topic of spiritual warfare. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that not only is it real, but with The Father on our side, we have nothing to fear, but only to rejoice.

Kitchen Help Please!

My house was built in 1902.

I'm pretty sure these are the original cabinets 

which we are in the process of painting a friendly yellow.

Now that the drawers are done

I need your help.

How can I best utilize all this space for pantry use 

AND for all my dishes? 

I am going to ::attempt to:: use the philosophy of

if it doesn't fit then get it out of the house, off the property 

and to someone who needs it.

I have one of these ^

One of these ^

Three of these ^

And five of these big boys ^

The cabinets above the counter have little shelves like this.

Although the top cabinets don't.

These lower cabinets are on the right side of the kitchen only.

They also have a shelf built in on the top. 

Then there is this cute corner cabinet which I love.

There are doors for the bottom portion. 

Lastly is this... thing... a wanna be cabinet? 

Perhaps a kitchen table used to come out from inside? 

I have no idea.

But I want it to be useful because it's there and not going away. 

Do you have any help for me? 

Please.

I take any and all suggestions.

Thank you!

Finding the Source

I'm hoping that today doesn't involve a diaper full to the brim with stinky, mushy feces.

I'm not talking about baby Denai.

Marie has been wearing depends full time for over one month now because she has been having "accidents" throughout the day.  I say "accidents" because I can't believe she is having accidents.  But then again, I seem to be learning not to be surprised by anything Marie does.

She has down syndrome.  I have known her for four years and I still can't figure it out.  The down syndrome part, I mean.  And since I can't figure out the down syndrome part, I can't figure out the Marie part.

This makes for difficult care-taking/parenting moments.

Every once in a while I have been referring to myself as more of her care-taker than her parent.  While she still calls me "mom," I'm not sure I'm too happy with the title.  That might sound messed up.  I don't really get it either.

So, we are in weekly counseling. It's been really great for me.  I love the counselor.  She makes me feel validated in my feelings - even the really huge ones.  She asks probing questions to get me to think about where my feelings may come from.  She gives me homework that I can accomplish but if I don't get it done, it's no big deal.  She is firm with me in some areas, gentle with me in others.

Ciena is wearing depends today - just like yesterday.  But yesterday she had an "accident."  She pooped.  Was it on purpose?  A true accident?  I don't know.  Nobody does.  You may ask why she didn't use the bathroom?  I asked her that same question.  She didn't have an answer.

I think ever kid/person has a safe spot they like to retreat to.  Marie is like that.  In our new house, the stairs have become her safety zone.  I can't say I mind because I know where she is and she only gets in the way when she sprawls out and doesn't move when someone needs to use the stairs.  So, she sits on the stairs unless directed otherwise, and from the stairs she can see the bathroom.  Does she use it?  Well, she didn't yesterday.

I do think I am the source of the problem with Marie's behaviors.  As I work to accept that, I can start working towards fixing myself.  And that, my friends, was my conclusion from yesterday's counseling session.

Church: Is it bad or good?

A few weeks ago I wrote a post about Gossip.  I may have given the impression that church is a bad place to be.  This is not true and I hope that's not the impression I left my readers with.

As a church-goer my entire life, I have enough faith to know that it's not church that is the problem.  It's the people.  The sinners.  People like me and you.  And me.  Depending on who you talk to, the story can shift on who was in the right and who was leaning toward the wrong.  I am already able to allow thoughts of forgiveness and letting go to roll through my mind regardless of who was right or wrong.  Maybe there was no right or wrong.  It was a judgement call.  And it sucked.

While my recent wounds heal I won't be attending my home church when I visit. I still love my church family and I love my pastors.  But right now, my trust in what a church family is supposed to be is a bit broken.

Today we attended our local church for the first time in months (camping tends to take up a lot of summer weekends).  We left feeling tremendously blessed.  We attended Sunday School where I was able to be a little bit vulnerable in sharing how hard this co-parenting/marriage/parenting/care taking/Christian thing is.  And then later a friend gave me her number with the demand that I call so she can watch our kids while Mr. Sexy and I have a much needed date night.

It was a good day.

But even with the good stuff, I couldn't help but wonder who was watching as I sat next to Marie and whispered in her ear.

Did I look angry? 
Did I look mean? 
Is Marie responding to me ok? 
Are we attracting attention? 
Who is watching?

All that fear is from Satan.  I know that.  But it's still there nonetheless.

Mr. Sexy and I are continuing with our weekly family counseling.  We are also continuing to explore the spiritual elements which I talked about in my recent post: Gear up: We are in War.  There will be more on that subject later this week.

Why blog?

It's been a bit since I have posted.  For one thing I have been incredibly busy with my family, slowly continuing to move in, and we have adopted some more animals.  However, no matter the chaos, I can typically find time to blog.  Lately, however, I have felt stuck.  That happens every now and again.

I'm not exactly sure why I blog.

Popularity?
The joy of writing?
To stand on a self made soap box?
To encourage people?
Tear them down?
To cope with life's stresses?
To learn how to share my life?
To vent?

There are so many reasons to blog.  More than my small list.

If I'm being honest, well, the above list are the reasons I blog.  Yup, I wouldn't mind a bit of popularity and I tend to think I have better ideas than other people.  I'm a flawed person and some of my reasons for blogging are flawed as well.

I wonder if lately I have been blogging and doing it wrong.  Some say, yes, I have posted inappropriate material.  Maybe those people are correct.  Or maybe I am the one in the right.  Or perhaps it is what it is.

I don't blog to please other people. My goal, in every post, is to let you, the random reader, to look inside my life and get a glimpse of how the world looks through my eyes.   I tend to be a bit blunt at times.  This usually hurts people's feelings which is ironic because I'm a sensitive person.

I don't blog to hurt people. However, it happens.  I have probably hurt people whether I am made aware of it or not. Sometimes I do feel the need to call people out.  I'm not sure if that's right or wrong.  Mr. Sexy tells me, as long as I'm writing in love, and it's a love that others can see, I'm doing okay.  I'm pretty sure I don't always write from a loving heart.

So where do I go from here?  I have had many blogs since I was a teenager.  The two before this one were highly controversial.  Is that wrong?  I think sometimes controversy is a good thing.  Although, for me, the controversy typically revolves around my family.  That's pretty personal.  The way I write about myself and my family causes me to wind up hurt, too.

So I will continue on.  The hard subjects of spirituality, parenting, feeling hurt and angry are subjects I will continue to write about.

I'm still not exactly sure what my purpose in blogging is but I think it's what I'm supposed to be doing.