Parenting

Parenting is hard folks.
I mean really hard.

Your parents told you when you were a kid. You think it's bologna... cause at the time, being a kid is hard.
So what I'm saying here is that life is hard.

It's not hard because we have rotten kids. No.
It's hard because they aren't rotten.

Because they love and they hurt and they make mistakes and they are victorious.
Because they are sarcastic and witty and funny and super crazy smart.
Because they are humans with personalities and thoughts and strong convictions.
Because they know what is right and what is wrong and they are shaken regardless of where the pain comes from.
Because we are not perfect and imperfection correcting imperfection is ridiculously counterproductive.

It's hard because B and I have our own ideas of how things should go and God has his own... and therein lies the solution.

Parenting is hard. Falling into Him is easy. And so we move forward, together. We fight the battles and love on them, together, the three of us. We cry when they stumble and we shout with joy when they succeed.

So there you have it. Parenting is hard. It's a good thing we aren't doing it alone.

Invincible

We feel it.

Strength. 

Youthful. 

Energetic. 

We don't feel it. 

Weakness.

Time passing. 

Sickness. 

We are invincible. 

We are young. Or are we?

We don't see it coming until the sparkles become white and the lines become deep. 

When does it happen? A moment? A process? When does youth turn to maturity? When do our bodies betray us and let gravity do more than keep us grounded? When do things clog and thicken? 

Aging. 

We are invincible. 

Until... We are not. 

Middle School

Middle school hasn't been our favorite, huh?

And no middle schooler wants to hear "when I was your age"... so I won't.
I'll tell you that...

it will get easier.
you will find your stride.
confidence is building, it just takes time.
people change and change and change some more.
this is a learning time.
God allows for us to experience things in order to grow for and in Him.

You are such a good kid. You are wise and smart and handsome and sweet.
You are growing and learning and loving.

This is your time. This is your life. This is yours.
What will you make of it? What will you allow? What boundaries will you set? What values will you adopt?
I can hardly wait to see what the next 12 years bring... but not too fast.

My heart

You leave me sweet words in different places.
You kiss me good night. Always.
You get a kick out of my ridiculously messy hairspray filled night time hair.
You rub my back as I'm falling asleep.
You compliment me privately and publicly.
You give me space when I need it.
You hold me tight when I don't.
You love my complexity (moody, happy, crazy...).

You encourage them.
You listen to them.
You support them.
You love on them.
You take time for them.

You are honest.
You have integrity.
You work hard.
You help.
You are a constant "learner" of the world.
You are simple.
You are... sometimes complicated.
You are flexible.

You are so much to so many.
You are my constant. My silver lining. My best friend.

I love you, B.

Testimony

I grew up in a Catholic home. We went to church every Sunday. I completed all my sacraments and I knew some stories about Jesus. I knew He died for my sins… and I knew God was always watching me. Always.

I went to confession. I was a good girl. I made good choices. I obeyed.

Then I reached high school.

I pushed the envelope a bit. I went to confession. I was a good girl. I made good choices. I obeyed.

Then I met a boy.

I rebelled. I was in love. I moved to another country and married a few months before my 19th birthday. But… I still made good choices. I married in a church. I continued to attend weekly services. I went to confession. I was a good girl. I obeyed.

Then I was invited to another church. A Christian church.

My first impression? Weird. I didn’t want to like it.

They were passionate for Jesus. They sang songs that fluttered my heart. They spoke words that made me think. Question. Cry. And I wanted to go back. But... I was a good girl... I obeyed.

I was raised to be strong and confident and educated in whatever choices I made. And so I asked. I learned and the more I did, the more I thirsted for more knowledge… more understanding.

I prayed and cried for months knowing that my decision would anger and confuse my family. I prayed. I told them before I made my decision official. And they were angry and confused because they too, had only known Catholicism. Because like me, it was/is their culture and now, I was making a decision to break away from a part of my culture.
It was bumpy for a while. We didn’t talk about “it” much. I continued to pray. I was patient. They were patient. And we talked a little… and a little more.

That was nearly 12 years ago.

I gave my life to Jesus Christ; I made Him the Lord of my life. I was a good girl. I made good choices. I obeyed.

But it’s not until about 5 years ago when I found myself on my kitchen floor crying out to Him that I truly understood my utter dependence on His everything.

I broke. I broke hard. It was ugly and dirty. We live in a sin filled world and Satan knows exactly what to do to break us. And what Satan intended for bad, He used it for good. It was during my time on the kitchen floor that I realized that in this life, it’s just me and Him. That’s it. Everyone else is just like me. Selfish, sin filled, broken. They can’t be my rock. I realized that I needed The Rock. I needed to stop obeying and start loving with my heart not my head.

A few weeks after my “come to Jesus moment”, my sweet little Peanut asked me why I was “acting like that”. And I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about. I probed and asked a little more and finally he said “You just seem to be more calm and talking about Jesus more.”

Huh. And that was it.

I was calmer. The next few months were filled with transitions and crazy money impossibilities and drama I could never imagine but still… through it… I was calm.

I broke down many times but each time I knew who held me. I knew where I stood and who’s I was.

And that is when I realized that He truly does have plans for good for me, not to harm me but to bring me hope and a future. I realized that God cares far less about my actions and a great deal more about my heart.

You see - He wants my actions to be led by my heart... not my heart by my actions.

I could continue to be a good girl and obey the rules because that’s what I knew He wanted or… I could turn my heart over to Him and live with abandon in His arms and the rest of the stuff… the obedience, the good, the head – it would all fall into place.