Are You Laughing At The Point I’m Trying To Make?

Scott headed out for Arkansas earlier this week, and one thing I’m sure of, I am SO thankful for that man.  I honestly do not know how single moms do it! 

Tuesday night I was dealing with Dwight and boy, does he know how to push my buttons sometimes!  We’ve had to keep the house in tip-top shape because we could have showings at any time, so when he let the dogs out and didn’t take his shoes off before tracking mud onto the kitchen floor, I was ticked.  Mostly because I’d just asked him twice if he’d made sure he didn’t let the dogs track mud in the house, and he even went back and checked and told me everything looked good. 

So needless to say, when I went back and found the floor soiled, not just with dog paw prints, but his big fat tennis shoe prints, I was pissed.   And of course, Dwight being Dwight, what does he do?  He starts smiling. 

“Dwight, it’s not funny!  Why are you laughing!  Stop laughing!  This is so irritating for me to have to go over this with YOU, the SIXTEEN YEAR OLD!  This floor needs to be cleaned now!  Why are you still smiling?”

And since he kept smiling, I gave up and sent him to bed.  He tried to stop and explain, but I was in no mood.  “Just go, Dwight.”  I ordered as I cleaned the mess up myself.  That boy, we are just so different, I don’t get him sometimes!

So the next morning, when I saw the sticky note on the table (a sight that always fills me with dread because you never know what the boy is going to write), I prepared myself for his explanation. 

But oh.  Let me tell you…the entire note was of no importance, because what I read in the first sentence was enough…

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry for laughing at you… 

At me?  AT me?  Oh no…he was laughing at me?

Nice.  Apparently I was the funny one. 

Not that the little mud on the floor event ruined my week, but I did find it amusing.  My teenage son thinks I’m funny, only not when I’m trying to be.  No, it has to be at the most inappropriate times that I am funny!

Tonight however, was a bit rough.  I thought we were doing good.  Kids were in bed, America was asleep too, and just as I was about to put her in her swing (because right now we have no crib to put her in and the swing keeps her buckled in safe and sound and asleep!), Joshua comes out of his room crying. 

“Moooom,”  He called as America started to stir.

“Whaaaaat???”  I whined.

“I threw up.”  He squeaked.

I sighed.  “Where?”  I asked.

“On the bed.” 

America was awake by this point, and I headed up to the room.  Sure enough, dinner was sitting in a neat little red pile where Joshua was supposed to be sleeping. 

“Joshua, why didn’t you go to the bathroom?” 

“Because I didn’t know I had to throw up.”  He cried.  “I woke up coughing and it just happened.” 

I sighed (and groaned, and moaned, and whined), again and took America to the boys’ room.  I told Dwight and Patrick to watch her since they were awake anyway, and then went back to pick up Madison and moved her to my bed so she didn’t roll into the…ummmm…half-way digested dinner.

I went back and removed the sheet, took it down stairs, rinsed off dinner down the drain, then threw the sheet in the wash.  Back up the stairs I went as I rummaged through the closet to find a new sheet.  I walked into the room to throw the clean sheet on and as I went to Joshua’s side of the bed to straighten out the sheet, I was surprised by another lovely pile of salmon patties and watermelon nestled in another pile on the floor.

“Joshua!  Why didn’t you tell me you threw up on the floor too?”  I whined as I headed for the closet hiding the steam cleaner.  

“Crap!”  I shouted (And I wonder where my two year old got that one from today)!  I never emptied out the steam cleaner from the last time I used it.  It was mostly the detergent and water, but it still looked gross and I wanted hot water for this mess.  So I went to the kids’ bathroom to pour it out and when I lifted up the toilet seat…eeeeewwwwe! 

“Dwiiiiiiiiiight!”  I shouted.

He came running and I gave him the speech he’s heard a thousand times.

It’s his job to clean the bathroom.  The toilet is disgusting and looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in months.  Clean it, NOW.  Hey, if I was going to be up cleaning puke anyway, he could do his chore! 

I got the steam cleaner put back together, with hot water and detergent and got to work.  I start spraying the solution onto the carpet as I ran over the salmon/melon mixture and waited for the machine to start sucking up the yuckness.  Only there was no sucking, just a soggier puddle of solution and puke.  Great.

The stupid thing was spraying the water great, but for some reason, it didn’t want to suck anything up.  I tried switching the setting from “hand tool” to “floor cleaner” several times, but it did nothing.  Finally, I, cussing up a storm at this point, grabbed the hand tool and started scrubbing away with it.  I could hear the baby crying on and off in the background, and Madison, with all my cussing and carrying on, came walking in.  I told her to stay out of the way, so Dwight, who finished cleaning out the toilet bowl, picks her up and follows me, “Mom, do you want me to put her on the couch?” 

“Oh sure, Dwight, like she’s going to stay downstairs by herself!” 

“Do you want me to put her on your bed?” 

“No, Dwight!  She’s not going to stay there by herself either.”

“Where do you want me to put her?”

Seriously?  She was perfectly fine where she was.  Why did he think he had to put her anywhere? 

“Dwight, just go to bed!”  I finally ordered.  Frustrated, I stopped the cleaner, took it back apart, and found a filter that was somewhat clogged up.  I cleaned it off, and sure enough, that did the trick.

“Thank you, God!”  I prayed.  Because surely I couldn’t have handled trying to clean up that mess with the hand tool much longer!

I spent another 20 minutes fretting and cleaning the redness out of the carpet that will be cleared of any furniture by Thursday of next week.  This was just what I needed, you know, red puke to stain the carpets right before we move out!  I think I got most of it out, but it was a chore. 

It’s just funny, how ironic things can be.  Like earlier today when I was thinking about how I can not handle my kids getting really sick right now – not in the midst of a move, and how God must know that because they seem to be doing okay even though they’ve been exposed to some nasty stuff over the last couple of weeks.  And then later when I thought about the sick sense of humor God has at times. 

I think God was just using His sick sense of humor to make a point (or two) – I apparently can handle the kids getting sick right now, even with my husband away!   Yeah, I had to laugh.  I have a sick sense of humor too, and when God shows his funny side, well, I just can’t help but laugh AT Him. 

Wait a minute…Me?  Laughing at God and His ways of pointing out my mistakes and misconceptions?  It’s funny how different my perceptions can be from the truth!

So that’s what it’s like to laugh at the parent who is trying to make a point.  There is something funny when we realize our misconceptions couldn’t be further from the truth.  Like Dwight saw a “clean floor,” I saw a circumstance I thought I could NOT handle.  The truth is, I’ve made it through much harder situations than this!   I was a bit surprised that I was being proven wrong, and I’m sure Dwight, was a bit surprised to see the mud on the floor after he checked.  How else does a person respond to a surprise, but to laugh?

I may not always get his sense of humor, but I’m starting to realize, maybe Dwight and I aren’t so different after all.  But the difference between God and me, is that I’m pretty sure He doesn’t mind that I am laughing at His ways of getting my attention or pointing out the mess I’ve made in my own little head.  I guess as the parent, I need to learn to laugh along with my son, because I swear I could almost hear God laughing with (but of course, not at!) me as I realized in my own way, I was acting just like my teenage son!

Emotions Are Flying High!

and low.  This move feels like too much on some days. 

Scott just got off the phone with me.  He’s in Fayetteville right now and found a note in the door of our new house from the water company.  They are refusing to turn on the water until numbers are screwed into the stone on our house.  I guess the previous owners re-bricked the house and never put the house number on the house, so my exhausted husband is running  BACK to The Home Depot he just came from to buy some numbers.  I’m guessing he’ll probably have to buy a drill and some screws too since his tools are here in OHIO. 

It all makes me so angry and I just feel that is going a little overboard considering how difficult they were about getting the water turned on in the first place.   We’ve moved places where all you have to do is make a phone call, but not here.  No, you have to drill numbers into your house before they will turn the water on!  What really pisses me off is that if Scott weren’t there this week, we would have shown up with all 6 of our kids, 2 dogs, and NO water.  I just think that is WRONG.

DO YOU HEAR ME CITY OF FAYETTEVILLE?  WRONG!

Yes, I’m ranting.  Scott & I just don’t need any more stress at this point.  Moving is tough and with the stress and strain of it all, we’ve found ourselves arguing more.  I know it’s normal, but it just makes it all that much more exhausting.

I’m excited about getting there, because this whole moving process has been dragging on for months.  I’m tired of showing our house (or should I say, cleaning up after 6 kids in a mad rush to show the house?), and tired of not feeling settled, and I just want to get the impending tearful goodbye done and overwith so I can have a good cry and move on. 

And I’m trying so hard not to freak out about the future.  Life as we know it is about to change forever with this move. 

Donavan will be graduating highschool during our time in Fayetteville for one.  I can’t believe I’m about to have a kid who will be a legal adult in 2 years.  He wants so badly to join the Army, and even though Scott and I think it is the wrong move for him, we’ve agreed to support him and found a military summer camp to send him to right after we get moved in.  It will be 2 weeks long, and a “realistic basic training” course. 

Donavan will either come back more fired up than ever about going into the military, or he’ll decide once and for all that he hates it.  Only time will tell!

I am still fighting off anxiety attacks about this whole small town thing.  Just the idea that everybody knows everybody and so much about everybody makes me a little nervous.  (And all that much more pissed off that the loser water guy wouldn’t turn on the water.  Dude, can I send you a bill for the drill and screws?) 

With this move is the knowledge of us moving further away from Tina and her husband and kids.  I am taking it harder than I thought.  I hope that we can work out some good visits, but I know how quickly summer flies by and with work and school, it’s going to be tough! 

And the fact that Scott and I just met the coolest couple with whom we’ve connected so quickly.  ARGH!  Why do I always make the best friends right before moving?  So unfair!

I am really, really, really hating this moving every 2 years thing…I feel like my life gets put on hold, and then I have to restart it all over again with new friends, new places, new everything, and by the time it all gets familiar, we leave.  I’ve had a few tearful nights where I’ve confessed my loneliness to my husband, because it really is a lonely life for someone like me who takes a while to really make good friends.  I can open up so much at first, but to really connect with someone, it just takes me a while…or when it’s one of those kindred spirit type things, it’s right before we leave. 

Okay, I’m done complaining now.  (Or as I tell Scott, “venting!”)  Emotions will probably continue to go up and down as we leave and arrive.  I’m trying to stay positive and there is certainly a lot to look forward to, I just had to, you know, vent.

Taking a Break

So the impending move is on.  We have 5 1/2 weeks left in Ohio and needless to say, I have been running around like a crazy woman trying to get our house “show-ready” and up for sale, as well as doing all the other crazy things required when moving to another state.  But it’s happening, we will be heading to Fayetteville, Arkansas the day the kids get out of school.

I got to go house hunting with Scott last month and we found a house in a very nice neighborhood.  It was such a hard decision because there are soooo many nice homes on the market!  In fact, we kind of went back and forth between two homes and visited both houses 3 times each.  It was good because every time we’d go to what we call our “second choice” home, we really liked it.  It had an extra bedroom we knew we’d be able to use with all these freaking kids!  And the yard was so nice and the neighborhood was small and there were lots of kids. 

But then every time we’d go back to the home we ended up making an offer on, we just knew that it was IT.  I don’t know how to explain it, but even with all the work we are going to have to put into it (a contractor estimated about $25,000 worth if we have him to do the work), we just knew that this house was the one we wanted.  It was hard to not get emotionally attached to the house and we went back and forth with the sellers – making an offer, them countering, and back and forth until finally we said, “Okay, this is our FINAL offer.  Take it or leave it.” 

And we didn’t find out their answer until we landed back in Cincinnati, that they accepted.  Yay! 

So then we (Scott, Madison, America, and I) got home to a very clean house thank you to our babysitter!  She and the kids worked on it to surprise us.  She is such a blessing to us and boy am I going to miss her.  Too bad I can’t convince her to come to Arkansas with us! 

So the next day we got busy on the house and we worked for about 10 days straight.  By the time we took a day off (which I still found myself cleaning here and there), I was pretty much an emotional basket case.  I needed a break so bad! 

But we got the work done, even though I didn’t run for 2 weeks because we were working on the house and there was just no way I could work out and work on the house too.  Oh yeah, guess I didn’t mention, Scott and I are training to run a marathon.  My STUPID idea.  I mention it and he gets online within an hour of me bringing it up and orders us running shoes!  There’s no backing out now, right? 

Really, I’m glad we are doing this.  I need to do something for myself!  But it does get stressful at times trying to figure out when I’m going to run with all these kids! 

I’m looking forward to getting back to blogging on a regular basis.  I probably won’t be consistent until a couple months after the move, but I do plan on getting back on here and sharing my life lessons and hilarious interactions with my kids! 

In the meantime, I am going to try to keep it together as our moving day approaches.  The kids are stressed too, and it’s definitely showing in Kelly, who turned six last week!  SIX!  I am hoping once we get settled that she will be able to calm down a bit!

As for myself, I am starting to get a bit nervous about moving to such a small town.  It just seems that everybody knows just about everything about everybody.  Don’t get me wrong, everyone has been nothing but friendly, but I do tend to be a private person and I just don’t know how I feel about everybody knowing so much about us.  Kind of sounds funny when I’m blogging about my life doesn’t it?  But to me, blogging still feels somewhat anonymous.  I guess the idea of people possibly finding out something I wouldn’t want them to know makes me feel vulnerable.  Not that I have any deep, dark, terrible secrets, it’s just I know I’m not perfect and I hope that I can not get caught up in trying to put on that mask of perfection in front of these people.  It could be easy to get caught up in trying to pretend everything is cool even when it isn’t, just for the sake of not being talked about.  But that’s not me and I want to be real…even if that means people decide they don’t necessarily like me so much! 

But you bet I’ll still be putting on my makeup before leaving the house when we live there!  It’s that small of a town…oh, who am I kidding?  I’ll still be too lazy to do that at times!  Ha ha!

13 May 1955: The Good Wife’s Guide

My son brought home a paper he wanted me to read from his U.S. History class.   Is he trying to tell me something???

This is an article from Housekeeping Monthly, issued 13 May 1955:  The Good Wife’s Guide

* Have dinner ready.  Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious meal ready, on time for his return.  This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs.  Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal (especially his favourite dish) is part of the warm welcome needed.

* Prepare yourself.  Take 15 minutes to rest so you’ll be refreshed when he arrives.   Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh-looking.  He has just been with a lot of work-weary people.

* Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him.  His boring day may need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it.

* Clear away the clutter.  Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives.

* Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper, etc and then run a dustcloth over the tables.

*Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by.  Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift too.  After all, catering for his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.

* Prepare the children.  Take a few minutes to wash the children’s hands and faces (If they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes.  They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. Minimise all noise.  At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer, or vacuum.  Try to encourage the children to be quiet.

* Be happy to see him.

* Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.

* Listen to him.  You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time.  Let him talk first – remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.

* Make the evening his.  Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you.  Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.

Your goal:  Try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order and tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit.

* Don’t greet him with complaints and problems.

* Don’t complain if he’s late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night.  Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.

* Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him lie down in the bedroom.  Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.

* Arrange his pillows and offer to take off his shoes.  Speak in a low, soothing and pleasant voice.

* Don’t ask him questions about his actions or question his judgement or integrity.   Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness.  You have no right to question him.

* A good wife always knows her place.

You’ve all been educated.  Now go be a good wife!

Because I Needed A Few Laughs Today

I truly do not know how I survived yesterday.  The kids were all just especially needy, whiny, pushy, mean, honery, engergetic, arguementative…you name it!  They say laughter is the best medicine, so in order to make today a little better, I decided to go back in time and remember some moments that really made me laugh.  I hope you enjoy:

Let me just say:  Dwight-a-thon!  If you haven’t read this post…go read it!  He still thinks he’s sneaky by the way.  He got caught several times yesterday trying to sneak around…starting at about 6 a.m.!  But the shoe story?  Oh, I still laugh about that!

———-

Patrick…he can be so sweet, and yet so stubborn.  It never fails, if I ask him to be on time for something, he is late.  If I tell him to get something done by a certain time, he procrastinates.  He has not been ready for bed one time this week.  And he keeps trying to get out of doing chores (he’ll try anything to avoid work!)  But he is so sensitive and observant, I just love it.  He truly and sincerely loves people and his siblings.  And I’ll always remember the lesson I learned from the pickle jar.  Kind of funny, kind of not, but it definitely makes me smile and proud of my son!

———-

A couple weeks ago, Joshua made me cringe a little.  He told me his brother scared him so bad, that he almost said the “F word.”  But, he assured me he didn’t say it out loud.  Even if right after that he confessed, “I thought it, though!” 

Yes, I cringed, because the thought of my 7 year old saying the F word just breaks my heart.  But the more he talked about it, the more his story did not line up. 

“Joshua, what F word were you about to say?”  I asked.

He looked at me hesitantly and whispered, “Do you want me to say it out loud?” 

“Why don’t you just try to spell it?”  I asked. 

“Okay.  When Patrick scared me, I almost told him that I was F-R-E-K-D out!”

Ahhh, the F word.  I love THAT F word!

—————-

Kelly decided to play the hair stylist again.  Wednesday night, Patrick showed me the trash can in the basement with all sorts of different colors and textures of hair.  You guessed it, Barbie and her friends took a trip to the salon!  And in order to demonstrate to the ladies what a great stylist she truly is, Kelly snipped her own hair too!  Fotunately, she only took off an inch or two in one small spot.  It blends in mostly with her short haircut, but I know now that I am going to have to watch that girl!  Oh, and if anyone is interested in her services, she accepts My Little Ponies as her clients also!

—————-

Madison is definitely acting her age!  (Two).  I sent her to the corner at one point yesterday, and that is just torture for her.  She stood there and wailed as I stood next to her to make sure she stayed.  She turned around and looked up at me and cried out, “I seeeeeeeee yooooooou! Waaaaaaaaah!”  It was so hard not to laugh! 

She’s started a bad habit of telling Scott and me, “I’m not playing!” when she gets mad at us.  As if we are going to beg her to play with us!  Ha ha!  Really, her screams and fits can be enough to make me want to bang my head against the wall, but then she’ll say something crazy and it takes everything in me not to break down in laughter.  She has a strong will and a tender heart!

—————

That’s about all I have time for today.  I hope one of these stories was able to make you laugh.  That or you probably think I’m crazy about now.  But that’s okay.  I don’t mind!  In fact, here’s a couple more if you have time:

There’s The Day I Wished I Had A Penis.  Please don’t take offense…and definitely don’t judge me!  It was just one of those days!

And if you want another Dwight Story, read about the Cricked Guy!

Why Do I Even Try?

That’s a question I’ve asked myself a lot lately.  Like when I try to set a goal to blog at least 3 times a week…and then Scott and the baby get sick for a week!  Scott says I set unrealistic goals for myself.  He’s probably right, but I’ll never admit it!

The other day I asked myself the same question again.  Only this time it was after trying to help my 15 year old son with his school/homework/organization.  We’ve been taking him to counseling where he came up with a plan to help him be more organized (so he will actually turn in his homework).  But he hasn’t followed through at all.  

At fifteen, I kind of feel like I shouldn’t force him to follow through with this, but at the same time, as his mom, I feel I need to push him when he doesn’t want to push himself.  I struggle in knowing where to draw the line.  I could make him do this, but if he doesn’t want to, he is going to make it stressful and painful, and to be honest, I don’t have the time or emotional energy to deal with his resistance on a day to day basis.  (Especially when I have 5 other children to take care of).  But I know he will be graduating in 2 1/2 years and if he doesn’t get this now, there is no way he’ll make it through college.  So, I’m crossing the line and holding him accountable for the commitment he made to his counselor and himself to be more organized so he doesn’t keep losing and forgetting his homework.

So Monday evening when I  told him to bring his homework folder down to me so I could compare it with his agenda, he instead brought me a torn sheet of paper with an outline on it.  I was already frustrated that he ran upstairs and scribbled down some assignments on his agenda before brining it to me.  That meant he still isn’t writing down the assignments as he’s getting them in class.  I also later realized he never brought me his actual homework folder – the one folder he should take to all his classes.  That’s because he “left it in his locker”  (which means he wasn’t taking it to his classes!)  But the torn paper?  Was he really going to turn that in?  

“Dwight, this is unacceptable.  You can’t turn in your homework looking like this.”

“Mom, it’s not homework.  She’s just going to check to see if we did it.” 

“Then it is homework, Dwight.”

“Mom, she’s not going to take off points for a torn paper,”  He argued.

So I explained to Dwight why it was unacceptable.  Even if she didn’t take points off for presentation, what kind of an impression was he leaving?  “Dwight, this paper is a reflection of who you are.  Is this the kind of impression you want to make?” 

And he laughed. 

At first I thought it was just the autism.  He didn’t get it.  So I continued to explain to him.  “Dwight, the bible tells us to do our best, as unto the Lord.  Do you think your teacher is going to look at this and think you did your best…for the Lord?”

“Mom, it’s not who I am…”  He argued.

“But what do you think your teacher is going to think when she sees your paper?  Dwight, I would have never turned in a paper like this!  How hard is it to just grab a new sheet before even starting on it?  Dwight, this kind of effort is the difference between an honor student, and a struggling student…”

Dwight continued to smirk, laugh, disagree, argue, and try to explain his way out of simply pulling out a clean sheet of paper and copying his outline down neatly.

“I’ll just tell my teacher I’m sorry.”  He said.

So I tried again, thinking he just obviously doesn’t get it.  It’s the whole social handicap thing he’s got going on.  “Sorry, Teacher.  The paper is torn.  You understand, right?  Sorry!” 

I tried to explain his teacher’s point of view, until he said, “Mom, it’s a waste of my time to copy this again.” 
And then I realized he just truly didn’t care.  He didn’t want to put any more time or effort into that paper or class and he just wasn’t going to.  This arguement was a waste of MY time! 

And I gave up.  “Fine Dwight.  You do what you’re going to do then.  I’m not going to argue with you any more.”

As he headed upstairs, I fought back the tears.  Why do I even try with him? 

“Why, God?”  I asked.

And then I wondered if God ever feels that way about us…about me. 

When I am being stubborn and refuse to look at the truth He is trying to show me, why does He even try?

Why doesn’t He give up?

And His answer? 

Because He loves us. 

He loves me. 

He loves you.

He sees the potential in us, the beauty He created and He holds on.   He perseveres until WE finally one day get it.  And when we do get it, isn’t that when we are eternally grateful He didn’t throw His hands in the air and walk away?  Isn’t that when we fall deeply in love with our creator? 

Because how could someone love us so unconditionally for so long? 

How could someone wait patiently for us to come around when we insist on doint things our way? 

Aghhhhh.  Who am I to give up?  I can’t.  God should have thrown in the towel on me years ago.  But He holds on, He keeps pushing me when I don’t want to push myself.  He crosses the line until I get it right.  So I’ll keep trying.   And I’ll keep learning these awesome lessons that make me a better person through parenting my obnoxious and difficult teenage son!  (Come on now,  you can laugh at that one!)

God, please fill me up with Your everlasting love - Your unconditional love - not only because I need it, but most importantly so that I can share it with those who need it most.  Amen!

1 Corinthians 13

1If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

 4Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

 8Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. 9For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. 11When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. 12Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

 13And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Humbled Again – He Provides

When Joshua was just a baby, I started going through a very trying time in regards to my faith.  I questioned whether God was real and as a result of that question, I fumbled through a hundred more questions that I could not answer.  The funny thing is, I never stopped to question whether or not Satan was real.  I’d survived some serious hardships as a child and teen, and I saw and experienced terrible things on a spiritual level.  Even though God brought me through all of that, I still had to stop and ask, “What if?”  What if all the things that have happened in my life happened by mere coincidence? 

I think a lot of it started after I had Joshua.  I was struggling with post-partum depression (even though I didn’t realize it at the time).  9/11 happened and that just sent me spiraling downward.  I remember looking at my 2 month old baby and wondered why I even brought him into this evil world. 

Joshua was a healthy baby, but as time progressed he started getting ear infections.  The doctor would prescribe him antibiotics and a couple months later I’d be back in the office.  By the time he was around 18 months old, the doctors decided he probably needed ear tubes. 

The thought of my baby having to go through any sort of surgery terrified me.  At that point, I’d decided God had to be real, but I still felt alone.  I remember praying and begging for God to heal my baby so he wouldn’t have to go through the surgery.  I claimed his healing and spoke in faith.  I believed that God was going to heal my baby. 

But when we took Joshua in for one final appointment to check on his ears, I was told that he wasn’t improving and they scheduled him in for surgery.  What was worse was my husband wasn’t even going to be able to be there when it happened.  I had to do this all by myself.  I remember talking to a Christian mentor, a woman I worked very closely with at our church in several ministries.  I cried and told her that I didn’t understand why God wouldn’t heal my son.  I had faith.  I believed.  I did everything I was supposed to do and yet here he was being scheduled for surgery.  I felt rejected and ignored.  It made me wonder again, if God was real.  If God was real, why wouldn’t he just heal my son?

I knew my son didn’t have a life-threatening illness, but to me, I felt like God should have healed him anyway.  I prayed, had faith, and claimed his healing.  Why didn’t it work?  Either God was ignoring me, or He wasn’t real.  That was my conclusion. 

So I took my son in and teared up as we got him on the operating table.  This precious little boy waved bye-bye as the doctors wheeled him away into the operating room.  I was thankful he went so willingly.  I walked the long way back to the waiting room and sat down.  Dwight was sitting next to me playing cheerfully on his game boy.  I looked at my book and ignored it.  Instead I closed my eyes and prayed for my son to be okay. 

It wasn’t 5 minutes later and the doctor walked into the room.  “We’re done.”  He said, and brought me into the recovery room where I gave my drowsy son apple juice and marveled at how fast the surgery really was.  The nurse kept an eye on him for about 45 minutes and then he was released.  Joshua didn’t suffer another ear infection again until he was 7 years old!  (He was prescribed antibiotics and has been fine since). 

Going through that whole ordeal, I realize now just how depressed I was.  It never occurred to me that I was suffering from post-partum depression until I was pregnant with Madison.  But even after I was finally able to pull myself out of my dramatic little pit of despair, I’ve still wondered why God didn’t just answer my prayers.  Why didn’t He heal Joshua so that he I didn’t have to go through the stress of that surgery?

Over the years, I have grown stronger in my faith, but I’ve still wondered why things happened the way they did.  I mean, I believed.  I had faith the size of a mustard seed.  That was all that was required of me, right?  

It hit me the other day when a friend asked for advice on how to help her little girl recover from an ear infection.  Suddenly I thought about all the families out there who couldn’t afford to take their kids to the doctor or who didn’t have health insurance to get their children the surgeries they needed.  Then that still, small voice whispered to my heart.  “You didn’t need the miracle, Melissa.  She did.”  

It still makes me want to cry when I think about it.  In the midst of my prayers, desperate pleading, demanding, and instruction on how I wanted things handled, My God provided for all my needs.  He always has.  And even when I thought He was ignoring my prayers, (rejecting me is how I truly saw it!),  He provided in a way different than I expected or even wanted.  I was too busy wallowing in doubt and depression that I didn’t even see it.  It’s amazing that it has taken so long for me to see the truth.  But isn’t it funny that I saw the truth once I took my eyes off myself?  No, there was no miraculous and instant healing, but He did provide for me and my son.   

And I have been truly humbled over the last week as God finally revealed a glimpse of himself to me.  Being the control freak that I am, it scares me to death to say this, but I suppose I should take a step back and let God be God.  He does a way better job of taking care of things than I ever could!

Ohio Is Too Cool For School

The sun is shining.  The streets are clear.  But school has been canceled.

Why?

Get this.

Because it is too cold!

Scary Moment

I just  had one of those scary moments followed by minutes that seemed like hours passing by.  I was waiting for an answer and as I waited, my mind tried to wonder to a thousand different dark places nobody would dream of going.  This happened right after Joshua burst through the door and said, “Where’s Kelly?!?!”

“She wasn’t on the bus?”  I asked, alarmed. 

“No!”

I called Dwight and he ran out to the bus stop to see if any of the parents might have seen her get off the bus while I dashed for the phone and called the school.  I got the receptionist 10 minutes before the school’s official hours were closed for the day.  Thank God she answered.

And then I told her that Kelly did not come home and her brother who rides the same bus didn’t see her on the bus. 

She put me on hold to see if she was still at the school.  No luck.

She put me on hold again only after letting me know she didn’t forget about me, she was just waiting for more answers.

And while I was on hold, my mind continued to wonder where she could be.  I wondered if she ever really payed any attention to my warnings of strangers.  It wasn’t that long ago when she got into a “friend’s” car and her brothers and I were frantically searching for her as she sat in the car with her little girlfriend.  Her friend’s dad ended up driving her home just as I opened the front door to start searching for her again.  Boy did she get in trouble for that one!

Dwight came back home as I continued to wait and told me that nobody saw her get off the bus. 

Would she?  Would she get in a stranger’s car or did she get on the wrong bus and end up in the wrong neighborhood?Would she have left with someone at the school if they approached her with something enticing?  Could she be with some sort of evil kidnapper just waiting for her fate to be handed to her as we passed around flyers with her picture on it?  I’d just taken her picture today.  Would it be the last one?   

“No.  Stop thinking.”  I told myself.  “Everything is going to be okay.  I can feel it.”

“Okay, we found her.”  The receptionist’s relieved voice broke my train of thought.  “She IS on the bus, she just never got off.”

“Oh, thank God!”  I exhaled.  I could now stop struggling to regain control of my thoughts. 

“I know you were scared.  She’s not even my kid and I was scared!”  The receptionist confessed.  “The bus driver will bring her home, but it will be another 20 minutes before they get here.”

“Oh, thank you so much for helping me.  I wasn’t sure who I should call!”

I hung up my phone and started this post as I waited for my daughter to return home.  Dwight was kind enough to put on his winter gear and walk the 5 houses down to the end of the street to get her.

Kelly actually  just came through the door.

“Why didn’t you get off the bus?”  I asked.

“Because I fell asleep!”  She answered.  “And nobody woke me up!” 

The look on her face told me she was scared too.  I hugged her and let her know I was glad she was home. 

I told her we were worried about her and she said, “I didn’t even get in someone’s car!” 

I sent her to the table for her snack and smiled in relief.  I guess she listens to my words of caution after all.

Change of Goals

Why did I specify which days I was going to try to blog?  Maybe I should just change my goal to 3x a week.

I took America to the doctor yesterday.  She was on the verge of an ear infection and the doctor prescribed her some antibiotics.  That was a good call on her part!  I’d already told the doctor that I almost didn’t take her in because she was acting better (of course it was AFTER I scheduled the appointment that morning!).  She said America was just on the verge of an infection and she was afraid if she didn’t prescribe America something, I’d be coming back the next day.  So she decided to go ahead and treat it and I believe she was right.  America woke up this morning with swollen eye and more goo stuff coming out of them!  I could tell her ear was bothering her because she started tugging at it again.  I’m so glad she is on the antibiotics! 

Overall she was behaving much better today.  In fact, she reached another milestone.  Today she started clapping and tried her best to say, “Yay!”  (I swear it!)

 

I know…a little excessive on the pics, but I didn’t even post half of them.  She was just too cute!  Plus, I finally got my new camera – a Nikon D40 digital SLR and I’m learning how to use it.  (A late Christmas present – got a GREAT deal off ebay).  Now I’m lusting after a better, much more expensive lense.  Ha ha! 

Too bad Scott and I signed up for the Financial Peace University (Dave Ramsey) class at our church.  *sigh*  No, really I’m quite excited about it, but change is never fun, (nor is learning to be more disciplined with spending)!  My conscience is really setting me straight on so much when it comes to my spending habits now that we’ve started this class.  But it’s going to be good for us to get our finances under control and finally pay off debt!  (Just another goal to add to my New Year Resolution!)