Take heart

I'm generally an outspoken girl. I know you all are shocked to hear that.

But lately, I just can't seem to form the words. Actually, that's not true. I can form words. But the words that mesh together in my head, then form into thoughts and beg to spill from my lips are not exactly words that many people want to hear.

I go to a Bible study on Thursdays. This is my fourth year and I'd recommend it to any and every one who loves to study the word of God or wants to learn how to study the word of God or just needs 2 hours a week with some of the most amazing women on the planet.

I also go to a Bible study on Monday night with some of my closest friends. Sometimes it's more of group therapy than Bible study. But they challenge me, convict me and encourage me like few people can.

I'm also working through a Bible study with 3 other close friends. We're reading through the book of Ruth. I've always loved the book of Ruth.

Ask me about my Monday night study. I avoid going because I simply don't want to hear about any more struggles with any of my friends. Selfish, I know.

Ask me about the Ruth study. I've been on week 3 for about 3 and a half weeks.

Ask me about the Thursday study. Am I reading through Ephesians like all the other women? Not exactly. We are entering week 3 and I've yet to crack my workbook open outside of class time.

I sit in my small group time and listen to well intentioned women give their best efforts at encouraging and convicting snippets of information, all while perfectly holding a warm cup of coffee and wearing brightly colored capri pants and a snappy little cardigans. I look around the room and wonder what the hidden tragedies are in their lives. What words, songs, smells or memories cause hot tears to spring to their eyes in a matter of seconds? Do they even have those stories?

We sit in a circle and they share their convictions of the weeks's lesson and I look at them and wonder how on earth they can just sit there and talk about the glory of God.

I know they mean well. I know that some women in my group have faced tragedy that I pray never befalls me. One of the women in my group is walking a road that sickens me and causes me to sob on demand.

These women, they have wisdom and insights and knowledge that at any other time in my life, I'd leap at, cling to and scribble in the margins of my workbook.

But right now I'm struggling to understand, comprehend and flat out accept the sovereignty of God.

We're planning a beach trip soon and we're also planning a trip to go see our "oh-my-word-our-families-are-so-similar-its-scary" friends sometime in the near future. Yes, we drive a 15 passenger van. No, we cannot fit all the crap we need to function our luggage into our van when we travel places that require more than one night's stay. Therefore, the last two times we've travelled, we've had to rent an enclosed trailer. So I did a little search on Craig's List and found one listed very cheap about an hour away from us. We offered the seller significantly less than the listing price and he accepted. For approximately the cost of two rentals, we bought a trailer.

Only God.

Yesterday we packed up the kids and drove the hour or so to pick it up. When we got there we began to make small talk with the seller. He and his family had moved from California to the east coast and he bought the trailer for the move.

"Why did you move here?"

"To attend seminary,"he answered.

Turns out, he is attending seminary at the same place Luke and I have been taking online courses for Africa Inland Mission's Bible training requirements. Noticing that the seller was from another country, we asked him if he had plans to go back to his home country.

"Yes, I came here to get my degree so I can go back home and plant churches there."

I stood there, dumbfounded.

Seriously, God? Church planting?

We shared our own calling with him, I made small talk with his very pregnant wife, Luke prayed with him and then we drove off, almost feeling like we were stealing this trailer because we bought is so cheap.

On the way home, I shared with Luke, my inability to understand God's sovereignty.

"How is it that in less than 24 hours from the time I decided to look for a trailer, we are driving home with one that we got for so cheap? I'm having a hard time reconciling this with God. I mean, we didn't pray for a trailer it's just a blessing that God provided. Yet, I've prayed and prayed and begged God for some serious desires of my heart and yet, I don't hear or see anything in regards to them. I'm angry."

And that's where I'm at folks.

How can a God who is in the details of our lives seem so distant? So far? So.... uncaring about my heart and the lives of those around me?

And, I don't mean this as harshly as it's going to sound, but please save your trite, customary responses. I don't need to hear "God has a plan" or "Time will heal" or even "Judge your circumstances by your God not your God by your circumstances."

Because if I'm being honest, life seems unfair right now.

I'm watching a friend grieve the loss of the daughter she's carrying in her womb. She knows her death is inevitable and there's nothing she can do to stop it.

Another friend is going through emotions I cannot fathom as her due date approaches for a son she delivered too many weeks too soon. Instead of growing uncomfortably large, anticipating sleepless nights and round-the-clock feedings, she's navigating the pain of knowing her due date will come and go and no baby will arrive as scheduled.

Another friend is struggling with health issues. Words like cancer and brain adenoma are being thrown around. And while not currently life threatening, it's scary because, dear God, she has 3 boys to raise.

Our plans for Africa seem to be ever changing and my heart is grasping at something to hold firm because I need something to be certain, sure and unwavering.

Not to mention, you know, my friend died and today marks two months.

Two months.

And in two month's time I still can't wrap my mind around why God would chose to take a perfectly healthy 20 year old girl who loved Him deeply, with zeal and with a reckless abandon. And everyone around her knew it.

So I sit. In Bible studies I sit. In church I sit. I listen to others tell me about how glorious and marvelous and faithful God is and I just sit. I take it all in but my voice never dares speak.

I try to pray and instead melt into tears and wonder if the desires in my heart are really what God wants to even give me because, damnit, it sure doesn't feel that way.

Yet even in this, I know.

He is faithful.

He is good.

He is trustworthy.

He is righteous.

He is Lord.

As the earth seems to tremble around me and I question sovereignty and meaning and why life seems to suck for nearly every person I know, I take heart.

I take heart.

Clinging to the promises that He who says who He is, is true. He is my true north.

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

(John 16:33 ESV)

The taboo topic of being an angry Mom

I love my life. Really I do. I love being a mother to all these kids and the dirty house that comes with them. I love that having these people means that my sink is always full of dirty dishes and sometimes I don't get to shower.

I love them so much that if I dwell on it for long enough I will cry rivers of tears.

I love them so very much.

But, you know what? There's another side to being a Mom that no one ever talks about. When I wrote this post, several of you agreed that you have struggles. Several of you admitted insecurities and realities that you face in this role we are blessed by.

And, I think, part of being Radical is being honest with right where I am. Because like I told my friend Wendi a long while back during a play date, "I think that being radical means allowing God to push you out of your comfort zone so that where your ability ends, His can begin and therefore He gets all the glory."

And what I'm going to share with you today is certainly out of my comfort zone. But, I feel like I'm not being totally honest if I keep these emotions inside me and pretend as though they don't exist.

I realize that by writing what will follow, I'm probably going to get some (more) sideways glances at church, some of you may even question my emotional stability.

Truthfully, I'm okay. I'm awesome, actually.

Maybe you'll think less of me after reading this post. I mean, afterall, we're going to be missonaries, we should have it all together, right?

Wrong.

What I'm going to write is the truth. It's how I feel somedays.

Not every day. But some.

Usually after a night of little-to-no-sleep. Usually after (or during) an incredibly challenging day. Usually when I'm at my wit's end with a behavior from a certain precious child who will not stop throwing her food on the floor or after a sweet little boy throws his 4th tantrum in 30 minutes.

Or when I wonder why in the world God saw fit to give me, virtually, two sets of twins so that I could deal with negative, age-appropriate behaviors in two scoop helpings and it's almost more than I can deal with to say it twice, twice in 10 seconds to two different people because copy cat #2 felt the need to mimic copy cat #1's nasty behavior even though #1 just got a consequence.

It's those times that something washes over me and I realize that something else it taking a hold of me. Something that could have such a grip on me that I could understand why people slip into the recesses of the unspeakable.

It's nasty and I'm not proud of it.

Anger.

Not a flippant passing aggravation that makes me want to turn on cartoons for the next 2 hours and pray my children focus on the TV so I have some friggin' peace and quiet.

Real anger. Anger that makes me wonder who I am and how I got all these kids and if I really knew what I was doing, or better, if God knew what He was doing when he handed me these blessings because I'm seriously about to flip out on them.

Anger that causes me to drag my child to his (or her) bedroom while (s)he's kicking and screaming and wailing at the top of his lungs and then gingerly sliding him in and closing the door behind him. Anger that makes me stand at that same door and hold it shut while my child tries to pull it open because if we were to have another interaction right then, it would not be pretty.

Anger because it's meal time again and again we are having a battle of the wills over whether or not he will eat the food I've prepared. Food he likes but is currently rejecting because he apparently doesn't care if he eats today. So he sits and scowls at me from underneath furrowed eyebrows, rejecting all of the food on his plate because I dared to put a tiny bit of something green on the same surface as the rest of his food. Or, rejecting it because he threw a fit 10 minutes ago and consequence of a toy being taken away is still fresh in his mind.

Anger because, again, they've woken/disturbed/upset an otherwise peaceful baby, again, and so now, again, I must drop everything and console the (what would have been a content) baby because a brother or sister couldn't keep their hands to themselves. So lunch will take 45 minutes to prepare rather than 20 minutes which means that everyone will be so hungry and cranky by the time I finally get lunch on the table that fights will ensue and food will be flung and I will lose my cool. Again.

But as a Mom (or a Dad) it's taboo to talk about that kind of anger, isn't it? Because in our politically correct culture, if you actually talk about being angry at your kid then someone will surely call Social Services on you and they'll take your kids and put you in a 6 week anger management program.

We used to be foster parents. We are familiar with the programs for parents who have abused and neglected their kids. They are needed. They are a genuine route to recovery for the parents who actually have habitual anger management issues.

But, am I really "managing" my anger if I choose not to discuss it? And, in choosing to shove it to the recesses of my heart, am I allowing those emotions the attention that's needed to deal with them appropriately? If I've found out anything in my short time as a mother it's true that, "If I'm feeling/experiencing/struggling with something, chances are someone else is/has/will too." But all too often we take topics that are taboo and shove them to the deep dark corners of our hearts and pray that they don't surface when anyone else is around.

Because if anyone knew that you really felt that way then surely they'd think less of you, or wonder why you chose to have so many kids or be a stay at home mom or blah, blah, blah...

I'm tired of reading blogs and being around people who claim they never lose it and paint the picture of their perfect life. I lose it. Not everyday. Sometimes I make it a whole week. But I lose it. Often.

Why is it so taboo to talk about less-than-rosey-lovey-dovey feelings for your kids? Why is it unacceptable to say, "Somedays, I don't like my kid. In fact, some days when I hear them waking up from naps, I get frustrated with them for no reason."

I feel that way. Sometimes. And while I'm not advocating that anyone should ever discipline while they are in the throws of anger nor am I saying that anyone who has habitual anger or depression issues should never seek counseling.

What I am saying that these feelings are real and I feel them. Not everyday. But sometimes.

I get angry with my kids. I get tired or I don't spend enough time in the Word and the anger washes over me before I realize what's happening. And then I beg my kids and the Lord for forgiveness.

I will end with saying that I've had the majority of this post written and saved in my drafts since May of 2010. Not because it's not true, but because I was afraid of the backlash I'd receive by posting it. But if I'm honest with myself and deny that I don't struggle with occasional anger issues then I'm not being truthful with myself. And again, I believe that if I'm feeling these emotions of motherhood, surely other mothers feel the same way as well.

In the 8 months since this was originally drafted, I've prayed for the Lord to take away my anger, to help me pass it over to Him when I feel it welling up within me. But I've found that my ability to pass it over to Him is directly related to the amount of time I spend in fellowship with the Lord. When I get slack and don't make time with Him a priority, the enemy uses my tired brain as a short fuse to spark the fire of my anger.

So I confess. I sometimes struggle with anger. Do you? If not, what do you struggle with that's Taboo among Mommy and Christian circles? I'd be willing to bet, that more times that not, other Moms are struggling as well.

I want to leave you with a verse I found nearly 3 years ago and that has stuck with me and I have claimed as my life verse:

Not that I have already obtained this (righteousness) or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

(Philippians 3:12-14 ESV)

I'm praying for each of you reading this, that you will press on through the ugliness that plagues your heart, strain toward King Jesus and move forward to a place of repentance and healing. I'm praying that for myself too.

A Ramble of Raw Emotion

The social worker who does Baby D's visits called bright and early this morning at 8:00am. I have come to know what an 8:00am call means. The birth parents canceled the visit...again. Since January 1st, they have canceled a total of 5 out of 7 visits (so I was off 1 on my last post...oops). For the 1st three they canceled, birth dad has a stomach virus (that spanned 1.5 weeks). Then, they canceled because it was too cold outside. Today they canceled because birth dad has strep throat.

Now, I know I'm the LAST person who needs to question anyone when it comes to being sick, but COME ON! I don't know, maybe I'm just jaded when it comes to them telling the truth. I mean, they claim they are doing EVERYTHING to get their son back, yet they CLEARLY are not. As I said in my last post, they cannot stop doing the ONE THING that brought him into DSS custody in the first place.

Also, I caught them in a lie last week (you know, when the social worker picked him for one of the two visits he's had this month). A while back at an agency review I asked them if they smoked in front of Baby D because he was coming home smelling like smoke. They assured me that they were not and even went so far as to claim that they DID NOT smoke in their house. Well, I've known this was a lie for some time now, however they have continued to claim that they do not smoke in their house. (Which I mean, WHY LIE? As long as you aren't smoking in front of him....who cares?)

At any rate, whatever I send with Baby D to visits comes home smelling like a chimney. Lately I've been sending a hand made blanket that I received as a shower gift when I had the twins. I send it because it's the heaviest blanket I have that isn't PINK. Anyway, I asked the social worker if she would please make sure that they didn't spread it out on the floor because I am having to wash it a lot and I'm afraid it will begin to wear. I asked her if she thought they smoked in their house and she said,

"I know they do. When I bring him in for his visit they move ash trays and stuff."

I just stood there, letting the new knowledge sink in, wondering why it shocked me so much. I KNEW they were lying.

This isn't the only time they've been caught in a lie, and I'm sure it won't be the last.

As I continue this journey, I never cease to be amazed at the raw emotion I feel toward these people. I know I should encounter them with grace, love and mercy but for some reason, those are not the emotions that spring forth from my heart when they come to mind.

I know at a time when my own family cannot shake a month's worth of sickness, I should not be questioning someone else's health, but it's just so stinkin' hard to believe ANYTHING they say.

-----------

As for OUR health, Lucas spiked a pretty high fever last night, but so far Ashlee has been fever free for almost 24 hours. Yay! Of course, now that I say that I'm sure she will begin to puke or something else totally gross. I am feeling MUCH better (upon the advice of my Mom to start some vitamins ASAP). Thanks so much for your prayers for my family's health.

Now, if you'll just pray for my MENTAL health, I'm sure everything will work out just fine and my blood pressure will return to normal!

The Slow Fade

I hope you all are ready for this. I am about to probably blow any pre-conceived ideas you have of me right out of the water. I'm gonna have some serious confessional time and I hope you all will see that the comments you've made about me being "strong" or "wonderful" or "amazing" are not what you may think.

Everything in me that is good is from God and His power working through me. Let me prove it to you.

Today, I'm pretty ticked at my husband. Actually, it started last night. In truth, he hasn't done anything wrong. I've simply picked out something, twisted in my mind to be totally out of context, not explained my feelings to him, and yet I've expected him to read my not-so-wonderful body language and completely decode the thoughts in my head.

Yes, quite unfair.

Luke is doing a paper route for a friend. That means he must go to bed insanely early (like 9:00pm) and wake up at 2:00am. He runs the route from 2:00ish until about 4:00am. This isn't bad, is it?

However, in my mind, it goes like this:

I CANNOT BELIEVE he is doing that paper route. Doesn't he see that I've had a cold for 4 days and I'm exhausted?!? If he'd like to be awake from 2-6am, I can give him something to do. He can take care of this baby and let me sleep!!

In reality, I have the most remarkable husband on the planet. He, so graciously, agrees to take the shift of feeding, holding and changing from 4am until he leaves for work at 7:30am so that I can sleep. When he gets home from work, he IMMEDIATELY changes from his tie into clothes that can handle the kids. He dives right in feeding, bathing, playing and changing and never complains. I don't think I know just how good I have it.

However, in my mind, it goes like this:

Oh great! He just got home and he disappears into the bathroom for 30 minutes! Doesn't he see I'm trying to get dinner ready? Wait! Did he just give a sigh of being tired? Oh, I'll show him tired!

Yes, I know, even as I type it I realize how stupid it sounds. The frustration does not end with my husband. My children have also seen the brunt of it today, specifically this morning.

Luke started the kids on their breakfast this morning before he left. I come into the kitchen, still half asleep (but still grumpy). I'm greeting by squeals that normally melt my heart, but this morning, they just ticked me off.

After Luke leaves, chaos begins. First, Baby Girl needs ANOTHER bottle. Luke just fed her 2 hours ago, what's her problem? (That's a joke, she still eats every two hours.) While feeding her, Baby D decides he wants to get hungry as well.

What I forgot to tell you is that I have Bible study on Tuesday mornings and I need to leave the house by 8:45am. As of Baby Girl's feeding, it's 8:05 and I've yet to shower AND all 5 kids still need to be changed, dressed, teeth brushed and groomed.

I feel the frustration mounting. I finish Baby Girls' bottle, but not before she poops twice, each time into a clean diaper. I get Baby D situated so that he can eat while I shower. However, he is unsettled and I realized that he's pooped. Annoyed that my shower is being delayed further, I change him.

Finally, I'm off to the shower. Elizabeth is trying to get my attention, but instead of listening to her, I raise my voice, telling her to stop talking and EAT!

After a quick shower, I come back into the kitchen to find that Elizabeth (my FOUR year old), has helped the twins finish up their breakfast, unbuckled them from their booster seats and had carried all 3 cereal bowls to the sink. I walk in on her wiping off the table.

Thinking about it now makes me get tears in my eyes. I realized, as I watched my little girl working so hard to help me out, that I have had some serious issues with anger the last two days.

I could blow it off and say that lack of sleep does funny things to my body. I could pass it off as being in a high-stress environment. I could even say that it's my time of the month, but it isn't.

My problem is deeper. The amount of time I've spent with my Savior the last month has totaled maybe 20 minutes. The enemy knows that when I am tired, I am the most vulnerable. He is attacking me and I am allowing his evil whispers to penetrate my heart and hurt the people I love.

How could I be so blind? How could this happen all the sudden? The truth is, it didn't. This past Sunday, Michael continued his sermon series on Fireproofing your marriage. He spoke about how things can slowly fade into your life and marriage, causing it to crumble. At the time, I seriously thought,

"Oh, I'm not addicted to pornography or gambling or alcohol. Those things don't apply to me and my marriage."

The truth is that the enemy will attack us where we are weakest. Pornography, gambling and alcohol are not weak areas in my life. For me, sleep is precious. I've always needed lots of sleep to function, even before kids.

Over the past month, it has been a slow fade from my Lord. Instead of daily time with him, I've offered myself to the Serta gods. I've placed other things in areas where God should be. It has effected my entire family and even the state of my heart.

I praise God that He is incredibly slow to anger, and so unlike me. I praise Him for taking me back time and time again. I praise Him that I have a forgiving husband, who as I type this, texted me and asked,

"You ok? I'm worried about you."

I praise God that tonight, after a conversation and a huge apology on my part, my husband will forgive me and I can rest in the hope that tomorrow will be better.

I am so far from perfect and I hope that each of you continues to see that EVERYTHING within me that is good and right comes straight from the One whose Spirit dwells within my broken body. I praise Him because He is good and He never, ever changes.