Politix

You know what makes me want to slap a puppy? This time of year. I don't mean February, winter, or the time before Dec. 21, 2012 when the apocalypse hits or - worse - cell towers go down. I mean the time of year right before an election. Ew. I hate it. Politics make me angry, and being angry makes me mean, and Christians shouldn't be mean. But, look, it's not even spring yet and I'm already talking about assaulting pets.

I don't know who I support yet. Seriously? I'm a little worried I'll never figure it out, and then where does my vote go? I've always believed that 'real Americans' vote. This time around I'm feeling more and more like a foreigner. I know who I DON'T like but I want to vote in favor of someone and not against them. (Ooooh, I think I just gave my affiliation away!) It doesn't matter to me what party a candidate belongs to - if I believe in their ideas, I'll give them my vote.... and that's exactly the problem right now.

Over time, I've arrived at the conclusion that nobody is right anyway. The left, the right, whatever - nobody knows. It's all relative. By today's standards, it's all relative and based on whose followers annoy you the most. You can look at either side and say, "Those people are morons!" You can look at any candidate and call them worse. But I think, maybe, we're all morons and worse and we just like fighting about it.

Ever wonder what the Civil War might have looked like with modern technology and social networking? Take away the physical war part and that's pretty much what you've got today. Brother against brother, father against son... brothers against sisters, if you're in my family.

I was gonna jump on the Santorum/Obama/theology thing here but then I thought about those poor droopy-eyed puppy dogs and decided to just end it here.

That's my rant. Let's all give up politics for Lent, shall we?

What NOT to Say to Childless Women

How do I say this nicely? Lord, you know it's not going to be an easy blog post when I have to start it like that. It's really late and I have major plans for tomorrow (cleaning) so I can't go into this in too much detail, but my head will explode if I don't at least say something.

Church moms, you mean well, you really do. You want to be helpful. You want to be comforting. But sometimes you don't get it.

First, you make the mistake of assuming that infertile women are despondent over it, even though some of us have accepted our fate and are completely at peace with the fact that we will never swell up like a balloon or scream our way through childbirth. It's cool. We're good. God has other plans for us. We're super glad you were able to reproduce 7 times, but it's not going to happen for us.

Your bigger mistake, though, is assuming that childless women would LOVE to watch yours, or spend their spare time helping out with the children's ministry at church. Some of us only like kids that are biologically related to us. For example, I adore my nieces and nephews. I'm not in love with everyone else's. I don't DISLIKE kids, but I don't want to spend a lot of time with the ones that aren't related to me. Other women really ARE sad about not having kids, so what makes you think they'd like to have their sad reality shoved in their faces over and over again?

Really, women. You mean well. But you don't get it.

It's also a bad idea to imply that a childless woman has no responsibilities and all the time in the world to do grunt work that you personally don't have the time to do. Some of us work a lot. Some of us have lives. Yes, I know it's hard to believe, but I tell you the truth. We're proud of you for homeschooling. We're sorry each of your 5 kids has a sporting event on the same night. But please remember, we're not forcing you to lead the life you're leading, nor did we ask to be infertile. The idea of a nursery full of children can be absolutely heartbreaking to an infertile woman!

This is all stuff I don't think about very much until someone says the wrong thing, and it's almost always because people just don't understand. They are in a completely different phase of life where everything is about school projects, carpools, and teaching Sunday school. I can't imagine the amount of time, patience, and sleep deprivation that is required to raise a family of any size. Moms, you have my respect. I was like you once - I grew up diapering Cabbage Patch Kids, and dreaming of what I'd name my kids someday. I really wanted the hectic family lifestyle that you have.

But all I have...is a cat. A cat, and ministry, and my writing, and helping my elderly parents, and... well, trust me. I have a life. It's not what I planned, but it's what GOD gave me, and I have plenty of love in my life, believe me.

I don't want to fill in my "spare" time with other people's little children, nor do I just watch TV all day and have no responsibilities.

Let me put it this way - I totally want to help you. We're sisters in Christ. We're meant to help each other. But ya'll had to get schooled on what being a childless woman is all about. Don't assume stuff. So far, everything others have assumed about my life has been so insanely OFF. (The whole reason I'm writing this is because of someone saying something totally weird to me over the weekend.) Think, gals. Then, when you're done with that, speak. Better yet, PRAY first. A woman who can't have a child probably doesn't want to work in a room full of infants. And when you don't have kids, you find ways to spend your time. Believe it or not, there IS life outside of child-rearing.

Prayer and common sense. Prayer and common sense. C'mon, guys! We can do it! Make me proud! Stop saying dumb stuff to me, ok?

Pinterest Eat

OH BABY, OH BABY, OH BABY! Pinned anything good lately?

Source: sugarcooking.blogspot.com via Cara on Pinterest

Wag The Dog

I lost one of my aunts a few weeks ago. If we're being honest, I lost her a long time ago. Alzheimer's stole my aunt's sweet and chipper personality and the amazing musical talent she possessed. If you don't believe in the devil, spend some time around Alzheimer's disease. It really is an unholy illness.

Like most of my family members, my aunt lived far away and I got to see her rarely. It had been 13 years since I had seen her face, though we had always been "close" - as close as you can be from opposite ends of the country. Our relationship mostly involved pen and paper (she never really got into email.)

I was telling a good friend about the long-distance relationship. Ironically, the good friend also lives far away. She commented that most of my "close" friends are, in fact, the long-distance kind and asked if I had ever given that any thought. Stinkin' sisters in the Lord - always trying to get you to be a better person and whatnot. ::snort:: I have given it a lot of thought. It just happens to be one of those thoughts I reflect on for a split second, don't like how it makes me feel, and then push it away and think about kittens and chocolate and stuff.

If someone needs me, I'll be there. I'll pick you up at your doctor's appointment. I'll listen to your problems. I'll watch your ki... pets. I'll do anything for anyone, I just don't like having to need anyone, and I really don't like having to pour myself into a relationship that might result in that person figuring out that I'm flawed and weird and don't like to cook and have toothpaste in my sink. My husband, after 11 years, knows those things about me. Other people just suspect it because they don't get the chance to find out for themselves.


But I feel like God wants me - wants us - to be transparent and kinda daring. That's the way you have to live if you want to have a rich faith life. Do you want a walk with God? A real walk - the kind where you walk together and are heading in the same direction for the same reason? Or do you want the kind of walk my dad always had with our miniature Schnauzer, Winston - always tugging and snapping and trying to run ahead. My dad knew running out onto the highway was a bad idea, but Winston thought it was an awesome idea!

Is that what we want?

God won't heal you and make you more like Himself if you won't let Him. God doesn't force us to eat our green beans. And you can't have real faith without being daring. Being daring allows you to believe in someone you can't see, touch, or hear. It's what tells you to hold on when the world says give up. It's what gives you the backbone to tell another person ABOUT God.

I've had to take a step back and acknowledge, yes, I avoid the close relationships. I have to admit, too... God hasn't always had the red carpet treatment in my life.

I'm changing that.
Where does God fit in your life and relationships?

A Disclaimer: It's About to Get Personal

It’s not easy to blog about your life and personal things when certain eyes are on your words and you know you’ll probably hear about it if you say this or that. I don’t care too much about appearances, but others close to me do, and appearances have to be maintained. Don’t talk about yourself too much. Keep your secrets close to your chest. Emotion is bad.  

Yes, it makes it really hard to write about your life. That’s where I come from. I don’t want to be there, but those things tend to follow you and they tend to tell you what they think whether you want to hear it or not.

It makes it hard to write about bipolar disorder, or depression, or loss, or sexual abuse or any aspect of your past. It easily turns you into a sarcastic, self-protective comedian. I never used to be that way, but I’ve become that way in the past couple of years. It shouldn’t matter, but it matters. I just can’t let it matter.

My old blog was popular. Why? Because I wrote about anything and everything, pretty passionately. That's what I do. I got a book deal out of it (and my publisher needed to make budget...) and lots of readers, but I've lost many of them because of Facebook and everyone knowing everything and I got weary of freaked-out voice-mails from my mother. I used to write and nobody knew and nobody cared, but it's not like that anymore. It's the nightmare that comes with social networking.

So, I’m going to try and go back to writing the way I used to – about stuff I care about. The things I struggle with, and how God is working in the midst of it. I won’t hang anyone else’s undies on the clothes line for all the world to see because that’s not how I roll, but if anyone is embarrassed by me airing my own laundry, or if you think I should just “get over it” and move on (whatever “it” may be), I suggest you just don’t read my blog. I already know your opinion. It has been registered. Thank you for sharing. I know you roll your eyes. It’s all good – but it won’t dissuade me. 

From now I’m going to write what I feel God is leading me to write, which means I’ll probably write a lot more.

That’s my disclaimer.

The Badger Family & the Unthinkable

If you don't know who Madonna Badger is, or what happened at her home on Christmas morning, you must be living under a dusty rock somewhere, but to recap: her Stamford house burned down, killing her parents and her three young daughters.

Why am I blogging about this? Because I haven't been able to get it out of my mind for a solid week. This has haunted me unlike any other news story I can recall. I've read a lot about devastating fires recently. First a house in the next town over burned down a few weeks before Christmas, killing a 24-year-old woman and her parents. Her teenage sister had to jump from the second floor to safety. Over in Australia, a beloved celebrity chef named Matt Golinski lost his wife and 3 daughters on Boxing Day and suffered third-degree burns to over forty percent of his body trying to save them. 

I actually found myself getting sort of angry the other day thinking about it. I don't know who or what I was angry at, I just felt... angry. I've been through some very painful things in my life, but isn't this THE absolute nightmare of everyone, everywhere? This really dwarfs all other fears and tragedies in my mind. It's senseless. The Stamford fire, in particular, was senseless - the blaze is blamed on a bag of smoldering fireplace ashes placed at the back of the house by Badger's boyfriend.

I don't know if there's something that presents a major challenge to your faith, but logic presents a major challenge to mine and always has. A loving God who allows people to lose, literally, their entire families in one swoop. Stupid freakin' logic - it's kicking me in the butt this time! I've devoted a lot of hours to mulling this one over. I've tried to envision what these people must be going through, and how they will - I hope - eventually put one foot in front of the other and simply breathe. I have thought numerous times that I would regret not dying myself. I don't even have children of my own.

I can sit here and tell you about the peace I had when my husband almost died this summer, or the way God has been healing me from a crappy childhood, and I can give you a list of things God has done for me through rough circumstances, and there is barely a comparison. Like trying to blow bubbles into a stiff wind. Right back in your face.

It leaves me feeling naked and terrified. And all I can really do when I feel that way - here's the irony - is pray. Pray because being afraid doesn't get me anywhere, and it doesn't get the Badgers or the Golinskis or the Risslers anywhere, either. I pray because it makes no sense to me and I still hang onto that little mustard seed of faith that tells me GOD understands it, and the only thing that can help these people breath and walk and carry on is HIM.

It makes me stare directly into the face of what a relationship with Jesus is supposed to be about in the first place: making Him my everything. Everything else can disappear in an instant, but God cannot be lost. Real relationship with God means you can never lose everything.

But I'm guessing none of those people are feeling it right now, and that's the emptiness that scares me. It scares me, but it brings me to my knees.

It's a messy grace that keeps us afloat, isn't it?

Baby Steps

I don't know how you define 'victory' when it comes to faith. I always thought victory meant getting over something - like, one day you wake up and realize you're not addicted to alcohol anymore, or you suddenly have super strong faith where you once were barely hanging on. I guess maybe I'm changing my mind about all that.

Over the past month or so, I've been dealing with a lot of depression and anxiety for different reasons. More than usual, actually. Seeing as how I have depression and bipolar disorder, it's not like I don't deal with it normally. There were extra pressures this year, though, and my usual struggle was unusually difficult, even for me.

(I know this sounds like a total fail, but hang in there.)

I've been praying and reading the Bible like crazy because of it. Instead of boxed, trite prayers (or none at all) I've been actually TALKING to God. Leaning on Him. Going to Him when I'm afraid, instead of going to one of the ten million other things I used to go to.

That's a victory, right?

And it's WORKING. That has to be a victory.

When I feel afraid (sad/exhausted/hopeless) I pray. IT WORKS.

If it wasn't so late, I'd say a lot more, but it's the middle of the night. It was just one of those things, though - I couldn't keep it to myself anymore. :-)