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What do you chase after?  The things that I chase have change over the years.  As a young woman I chased boys, as a young mom, I chased kids.  In my career I chased promotions and success.  In my marriage I chase contentment and love in the chaos.  As I get older, I know that the things I chase will change, but the one who chases me will not.  Even when I’m lost.  And right now…. I’m lost.  Matthew 18:12 talks about the parable of the lost sheep.  We’ve heard it before.  The Shepard has 100 sheep, one goes missing so he leaves the 99 to go find the one that is lost.  This is how God pursues me.  When I am lost, He finds me and reminds me that I am important.  I am worth the chase. I am in a season of extreme discontentment in my life and sadly it has pulled me away from God.  Or I have let it pull me away.  I don’t spend time in the word like I used to, or pray, or seek God first.  And my life is reflecting that.  I have gotten so wrapped up in pointing the finger and saying that someone else isn’t doing right and have become the most hated word for a Christian to be called…. a hypocrite. Ouch!  For the record, I just pulled my head out of my behind and came to the realization that I am even more of a mess than normal.  So, if “knowing is half the battle GI Joe”, what am I going to do about it?  I’m going to let God be God!  Sounds pretty simple, but words always do.  Actions are much harder. First, I gotta stop pointing a finger ya’ll!  I can’t nag and preach at my family to do things that I’m not doing.  I will not be a fake witness.  I will not tell someone to step up when I’m not stepping up myself.  Pretty easy.  Check yourself before you wreck yourself isn’t from any scripture, but you get my drift.  Next, I am going to be obedient and spend time daily in the word.  I am a squirrel with the attention span of a chipmunk (basically feral), and I need guidance.  So today I started a daily Bible Study plan.  Plans or study guides can be very useful, and they are everywhere.  You can get them electronically or through an app, but I prefer a good old fashion paperback that I can write in.  I write my questions or how a certain statement pertains to me.  This helps me to be enveloped in the word while also being structured in the heart issue I am asking God to guide me through.  I have so many books on my shelf that I have often looked back on and seen how present God was in a tough season of my life.  Then I’m gonna pray!!!  Mother Theresa was once asked how often she prayed each day, she answered with “once, from the time I wake up till the time I lay down my head I’m talking to the Lord.”  Now, I do not believe being the next Mother Theresa is God’s plan for me, but I do believe He wants me to be in constant contact with Him.  When my spiritual life is out of whack, so is my prayer life.  Can I get a witness?  Now again, I’m feral, and focusing is hard for me, so I am using a journal.  I’m writing my prayers like letters to God.  I’m putting pen to paper and laying it all out there.  And it ain’t pretty ya’ll.  Did I mention I’m a mess.  But God wants my mess.  He wants the me that is Broken just as much as the me that is whole.  God doesn’t want me to come to him in a pristine way that avoids all the real issues in my heart.  He’s God!  He can handle it!  And I’m going to be Elsa and “Let it go”!  Let go of the hurt that brought me to this place where I am not prioritizing God.  Let go of the things I think other people need to do in my life.  Let go of the expectations I’ve put on the world and embrace the expectations God has for me.  I John 1:8-9 tells us to confess our sins and move on without sinning again.  Here I am confessing my sin of hypocrisy and asking God for His forgiveness and I am moving forward. What do you need to move forward from?  Are you chasing God the way He chases you?  I’m with you.  It’s a hard world to live in.  Hills and Valleys come and go like the ebb and flow of the ocean, but through it all God is steady and in pursuit of you always.  Stop chasing whatever it is that has become your focus and let Him catch you as you fall into His embrace and begin living a life chasing Him and His plan for you.  From one feral squirrel to another, stop running, there is no race, Jesus already won!

Yesterday I didn’t cry…. Yesterday I wasn’t sad.  I didn’t isolate myself from my family.  I didn’t get quiet or make any random outbursts.  Yesterday I spent time with my family, and I allowed myself to be happy.  Yesterday was usually a day I dread.  Yesterday was a day I usually have nightmare the week before. But yesterday came and went and yesterday I didn’t cry. Yesterday was the 20-year anniversary of my brother passing away.  That’s forever and not very long at all.  Losing him has been the biggest loss in my life.  A hole that I never think I can fill.  A void that would last forever.  And it may still last forever, but yesterday I didn’t cry. Recently I’ve decided that I don’t want to be sad anymore.  See, for 20 years, I’ve been unintendedly making myself feel bad.  For what?  For the actions of another person?  For being alive?  For being happy?  All the above. A clinician friend recently told me “Your brain won’t make you do anything that you aren’t getting something out of.”  I know right?  Ya’ll, what have I been getting out of being sad for a month every year and have nightmares for a week anytime anyone mentioned a gun?  So, in true me fashion, I started questioning my life. Thing is, there were actually a few things I was getting out of it.  However, none of them were healthy.  Fear, Guilt and self-loathing; all lies. First, I was giving into the fear.  Fear of what may or may not happen to my children.  Fear of what choices someone else I love may make.  Fear of losing and hurting like this all over again.  And fear is a liar.  Fear is like the enemy that gets into your heart, and you mind and builds a wall between you and God.  Saying “don’t be afraid” is so easy.  Not being afraid is a lot harder than that.  At least it is for me. Thing is, I’m not afraid of a lot.  I’m the YOLO mom that will try just about anything.  I drive my Jeep down the freeway with no top and no doors with the “flow of traffic” setting the speed.  I’ve driven across the county by myself.  I’ve traveled alone with 2 toddlers.  The military took me to 28 countries and I explored with no fear.  I live my life with my head held high know that God has a plan and I’m along for the ride.  But my brain wasn’t buying it.  My brain kept telling me that I had to be afraid or else I’ll lose control.  And truthfully, control is an illusion.  God has all control, I have none. Then there is the guilt.  I should feel guilty because I left and went to the Navy.  I should feel guilty because I didn’t realize how much he was hurting.  And the biggest guilt of all…I should feel guilty because I bought the gun.  (breath in, breath out) Ya’ll it just got deep and I will be raw by the end of this! Guilt is defined as “the fact of having committed a specified or implied offense or crime.”  What offense did I commit?  What crime did I commit?  I didn’t do either.  The Navy was a choice I made for me.  No one was “left” behind out of spite or lack of love.  I just moved forward with my life in the way I wanted to.  That wasn’t about anyone but me.  When a person is hurting, how do we know?  Truly, we can only know as much as they tell us.  I was there for him as much as I could’ve been.  After reading and studying everything I’ve come across about suicide, I learned that once a person gets to the point of desperation that he was at, not much can pull them back. My biggest guilt…the gun.  But my house was full of guns growing up.  I know because I inherited them all.  We were straight up ready for the zombie apocalypse.  If he was ready to take that step, he had a way.  Nothing would’ve changed that.  Not me or any other gift I could’ve given him instead.  The gun wasn’t what took his life.  He took it. Now we get to the biggest of the lies my brain was telling me.  Hold on tight because this is a doosey! If I am not sad in the weeks leading up to my brother’s birthday and for the month between his birthday and the anniversary of his death, like I deserve, I’m a bad sister. Told ya it was gonna get raw.  We were so close growing up.  In high school, we had the same friends.  I still keep in contact with my “boys” that looked out for me when my bulldog mouth overloaded my chihuahua butt.  I was a good sister, and he was a good brother.  For years after his death, I would be so angry at him because he left me.  Then I’d make myself miserable because I was a bad sister if I didn’t mourn him. And mourn him I have!  For 20 years.  20 very long sad years.  But it is okay for me to be happy.  June 22 each year does not have to be a day of mourning for me.  Will I always miss him?  Of course.  I’ll even have days when I wish he could see my life now and know my kids.  My family has learned to walk on eggshells around this time and I am tired of making them do that. Making a conscious decision to change the way you think and react to something is hard.  It’s easy to say, “I’m going to do better,” but it’s so much harder to apply.  Until you’re ready.  And I am ready! The Bible verse Ecclesiastes 3:4 states, "A time to mourn, and a time to dance". In this verse, King Solomon is reflecting on the emotional seasons of our lives, contrasting a someone dying to a celebration.   Mourning is a natural process of working through the heartache that follows a significant loss. Key word here is “working through.”  And it has taken me 20 long years to work through it.  And yesterday I didn’t cry.  For the first time in forever, yesterday was just another day.  And I’m ok with that.

I remember a country song that said, “I wanna talk about me, wanna talk about I, wanna talk about number one.”  But, as moms, how often do we really just think of ourselves.  How many times do we put ourselves on the back burner for our children or our husband or even our jobs?  Do we even know who we are?  Our identity can so easily get swallowed up in our family and their needs.  Disclaimer, I am in no way telling you to neglect your family, but I am telling you not to neglect yourself.  If you run your car out of gas it stops. In the same fashion, you can burn yourself out to a point that you have nothing else to give.  Or you get so overwhelmed, you stop giving at all.  That’s what I did. For twenty years and five days (because each day counted) I served in the US Navy.  I loved my job.  I was a Command Career Counselor, so basically a guidance counselor for the Navy.  Helping Sailors was my calling.  Then I retired almost three years ago.  Now, I’m going to stop right here because three years has gone by way faster as a Retiree than it ever did as an Active Duty Service Member.  I remember seeing these cartoons with the Retiree pressing their face against a window and someone from the inside telling them to go home because they were retired.  Ya’ll I laughed at this with the best of them….and then I became the guy on the other side of the glass. Nothing could have fully prepared me for the loss I would feel when I no longer put on that uniform.  Some call the military being “institutionalized” and it’s valid in some ways.  Now before anyone gets up in their feels.  I love the Military and strongly believe in its necessity.  But I did not realize the invisible structure that it brought to my life until it was gone.  I had more choices than I knew what to do with.  In true me fashion, I went drastic with a few things.  For example, my hair.  I bleached it, shaved the sides and back so that I only had about 5 inches of hair on the top of my head and dyed the roots hot pink.  Needless to say my husband was not a fan.  But I loved it just because I could. I had to figure out all kinds of things.  Little things like not getting phone calls for help really make me feel unneeded and fully irreverent.  Who was I if I wasn’t a Navy Career Counselor?  I had no clue.  And reinventing yourself at 39 years old isn’t as easy as you would think.  While I was ready to retire and settle in one place with my family, I was very comfortable in my position.  So, in true me fashion, it was everything wrong and nothing wrong at the same time.  I spent eight months on the couch before I applied for my first job outside of the Navy. I taught Transition classes for the Military for right at a year.  And I loved it!  But I was driving 56 miles each way through the HRBT (a tunnel under water for my non-Virginians).  It was so bad.  If the tunnel was backed up or there was an accident, I could very well be stuck in traffic for hours.  Typically I got to work in just over an hour but it took almost two hours to get home.  I was exhausted!  I got home, cooked and went to bed.  No family time, no husband time and especially no me time.  And we all suffered.  During that time, my son was also struggling with some challenges and me being gone so much did not help. I’d like to insert a side note here because my husband is literally a Saint on a mission from God for being married to me.  We are hitting 15 years of marriage this month and he has definitely been the rock I needed in my life.  He has always stepped up and filled all the voids I have left in our home.  Whether it be the kids or the house, he’s on it.  He is truly the best thing that has ever happened to me, even if he is a little sassy at times.  I used the analogy of an empty gas tank before, well he always make sure my tank never goes empty.  Like for real, I don’t pump gas!  He pumps for it me!!!  So, when I said that I wanted to leave my job as a government contractor and take a two thirds pay cut to be closer to home, he never batted an eye. I believe that God puts you where you need to be when you need to be there.  For six months I was employed by the local high school.  The job was easy and allowed me more time with my family.  I also had two months off over the summer to spend with my children.  While I did not hate my job, I didn’t love it either.  I missed working with Service Members.  There are those who retire and never want to work with the Military again and then there are those who miss the comraderies and connection.  So on to my third job after the military! Currently I am working reception at a Military Family Readiness Center much closer to my home.  I love the people I work with and that I get to assist Service Members and there families.  But again this isn’t where I want to be.  On average, it takes three years and six job positions for a Retired Veteran to get into the job they want.  Ya’ll I’m almost there.  I am currently a government contractor and my goal position (also government contract) became available seven months ago.  I applied, interviewed and was selected for the position 5 months ago….then the contract was cancelled and they decided the position would be converted into a government position. If you know anything about government and government contract positions, you know that the conversion is actually a good thing.  Better benefits, more money, better retirement.  So I waited, and waited, and waited.  Then a week ago, the position finally posted.  I feel like a light has finally broke through the clouds.  It seems like my life is finally coming to the place I want it to be.  The job I wanted!  But I am terrified!!!  There is no guarantee that I will get the position.  No guarantee that the job that I have wanted since before I retired will be mine.  My stomach is flipping as I type.  Ya’ll them butterflies are real!!! So, how does all this tie into me taking care of myself?  Glad you asked.  My choices in jobs and life have gotten to me.  I have become anxious and depressed.  At my house, we call it “going dark.”  It hurts me to say that because it means that I have “gone dark” so many times that my family and I have a name for it.  But I have made the conscious decision to pick me.  To make sure that I’m good.  Not “fine” but actually good.  Here are some ways I’m picking me. First, this blog.  I started this blog in August 2022.  I decided to post under my mom’s name as a tribute to her and how she always supported me.  I also did that to protect the privacy of my children.  It was supposed to be my creative outlet.  Then I went dark.  Life happened and I just stopped writing.  But truth be told, I love to write.  And if one person reads my blog or if one hundred people read my blog, it doesn’t matter, because I am doing this for me. Am I the best writer?  Nope! But I don’t have to be the best.  The “intra-webs” allows me to do what I want!!! So my goal is to post a couple times a month or just whenever I feel like it, because it’s about me. Next, self-care!  Can I get an “Amen” from all the moms who get hit with the mom guilt?  Nobody can make you feel selfish like the mini person you created.  But it’s not selfish.  Be real with your kids.  Help them to understand that, just like they want to do things they enjoy with their friends, you do too.  Before I was wife and mother, I was me.  And me is important.  Have those moments when you silence the phone and just sit with a friend or even by yourself.  Just be you.  And if you find that hard, try new things to figure out who you are now.  I, for one, know that who I was before I was married with kids is not who I am now.  I’ve grown and matured and my interests have changed. Then, but definitely not last, be true to you.  Ya’ll I am too old to fake it.  I do not have the time or the energy to be anyone but me.  And the more I give myself grace, the more I like me.  In all of this, I look to God’s timing.  Would my life have been easier if God had put me right into the position I want as soon as I retired?  Absolutely!  But His timing has put me where He intended me to be.  And I trust that.  Even if the answer to my prayers is “no”, still I will pray and trust.  I look to the Bible for guidance and I love how the hot mess sinner made clean, Paul, helps me to understand that life is not always flowers and unicorns! “I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.”  Philippians 4:11-13 NIV

Mother’s Day was last week end and I am probably on the short list of Moms who do not enjoy Mother’s Day.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my children and I am so blessed to be their mom.  My husband always make sure that, on this day especially, I am spoiled rotten.  But in all the love and spoiling and celebration of me, I’m sad.  Why?  Because almost six years ago, my mom left this world for a much better one. So, like the spoiled brat that I am, I want to stomp my feet and say “it’s not fair!” Can anyone relate?  The unfair?  What a place to get stuck!  And trust me, I get stuck there more than I would like to admit.  And on Mother’s Day, its at an all time toddle fit high.  Yes, at 42 years old, I just want to throw a tantrum because I want my mommy.  However, that is frowned upon and I have to be an adult.  Booooo!  Growing up was the biggest trap!  So what do I do to get through?  So glad you asked. First, I let myself morn my mother.  She was worth it.  It doesn’t have to be all about me all the time.  Giving yourself the time and permission to let yourself cry is therapeutic.  Even acknowledging that your flawed human heart feels like it’s unfair is okay for a time.  Just don’t get stuck there.  In Psalm 73, the Bible talks about unfairness and bitterness.  The Psalmist tells us how they got stuck in the bitterness and the unfairness of life.  Then they reveal how they turned it all over to God.  Knowing God is always with you and knowing He can take your burden away gets us unstuck.  Does that mean I don’t relive this process from time to time?  Absolutely not.  The bitterness creeps in like a bad odor and it stinks, but through prayer and obedience, you can clear the air so to speak. Raising parents is hard work.  At least that’s what they say, whoever “they” are.  Some days I felt that after mom moved in with us, but most days I truly enjoyed her being there with us.  She had two and a half good years before our lives forever changed.  And it changed fast!  We found out mom had breast cancer and 88 days later she was gone.  It wasn’t even the cancer that killed her.  People survive breast cancer every day.  But mom also struggled with a rare muscular disease that caused her muscles to seize.  Her body gave out.  We were so focused on cancer that we didn’t focus so much on the other issues.  I never thought she would die.  And then she did.  And that’s not fair. Second, I remind myself that I am who I am because she was who she was.  Now, for some, This can go either way.  My mom was not perfect.  She, like all of us, had her flaws.  But she was a great mom!  She never abandoned me or abused me in any way.  She loved me and for most of my life was my best friend.  The last three years of her life, she lived with us and that was the most precious time of my life.  I am the mom that I am because she was the mom she was.  Again, this can go either way.  Some women struggle more with motherhood.  They make more mistakes due to their own choices or even to circumstances that are out of their control.  Positive or negative, your mom played a part in your motherhood.  Own that and give credit to her for the positive influences and to yourself for the obstacles you have overcome and the cycles you have broken. My other parent, aka my dad, wasn’t the greatest.  I’m not going into that because that would be a whole other post or two.  He was a great provider, and we didn’t want for anything but we, my brother, mom and I, were never his priority.  And until I was in my late teens, I didn’t even know he wasn’t great…because she was so amazing.  My mom was like one of us.  She made sure my brother and I knew she always had our back and was there for us.  She showed up to everything!  We had food on the table and a clean home and love.  Lots and lots of love.  She was my best friend and biggest cheer leader for most of my life.  And the absolute best Grammy to my babies.  I am the mom I am because she taught me what a mom was supposed to be.  Yes, I do some things differently because, even though I am raising mini me’, no two kids can be parented the same.  She would laugh so hard when I’d tell her I should have named my children “justice” and “payback”.  She wished that on me.  Mom 2 points, me zero! Third, be honest with your children about your mom and your feeling toward her.  Granted this is an age-appropriate step.  My children are aware that Mother’s Day makes me sad, but they also know that that does not take away from how blessed I feel to be their mom.  I tell them stories and remind them of the time they had with her.  Being vulnerable with your kids helps them to understand that you are a safe place for them to express their vulnerability.  It makes me think of the old saying “boys don’t cry”; in fact, boys should cry.  It’s not a weakness people!  It’s the body’s natural way of releasing emotions. I am an emotional person.  I feel hard and I love harder.  I hurt when others hurt and cry for joy when other people succeed.  Growing up in the deep south taught me a very stupid lesson, “hide your emotions and your feelings and they’ll pass.”  Yeah, that’s a really dumb piece of advice.  If you keep shoving stuff down it’s going to overflow into a big old mess at some point.  Let your children see your emotions.  Within reason of course, we don’t want to traumatize them.  My kids know I cry for joy or sadness or in church when a song is sung that just moves my soul.  And even if I mess up, I tell them the truth.  Mom messed up!  Say it with me!!! MOMS MESS UP!!! Lastly, I connect with other moms who are struggling with not having their mom here with them.  When mom died, I got so mad at a dear friend who said, “I know how you feel, my mom died 23 years ago and I still miss her every day.”  My response, “great, so what you’re saying is it never gets better?”  I later apologized for the outburst, but the truth is that it never gets better.  It will always hurt.  Not having a mom will never feel natural and that simply is not fair. But God!  He brings you back to that solid rock of His foundation.  Hebrews tells us that “He will never leave or forsake us.”  Even if you are stuck in the unfair for a while.  Or in the sad or lonely or just blah!  God is there with us through all our emotions.  He can take them.  Peter reminds us that we are to “cast our cares upon the Lord.”  He never intended us to carry this world’s weight alone.  And when we think we have no hope of forgiveness or grace, we have Jesus.  Our sinful, bitter, human fleshy ways can get the best of us, but Jesus brings us that peace that passes all understanding and sets us free. Do I still miss my mom?  Of course, I always will.  And from time to time, I will go right back through this vicious cycle of self-loathing, and Jesus will pull me right back out.  Just like that.  God didn’t take my mom away from me, he took her from the pain and the sickness to a place where she waits for me.  And even when that doesn’t seem fair, I know God’s goodness is greater than any unfairness this world can throw at me.

Ya’ll, I am a lifetime miniseries waiting to happen!  I have lived through traumas that I may never be able to discuss, even with my therapist.  I’m actually convinced that I am the reason that my therapist sees a therapist!  As all survivors know, trauma has a way of forming who we are and how we approach things.  Recently, my son told me “I do not think it’s fair that I am punished for something someone else did.”  Wow!  Just slap me in the face!  In my eyes, I wasn’t punishing, I was protecting.  But when does that go too far?  When are we applying our trauma to someone who is innocent and had no part in our hurt. The hurt and fear in this case is probably one of my most protected losses.  In 2004, my brother committed suicide.  He was a firefighter and was traumatized after not being able to save an unknown man in a burning car out of his juris diction.  He had been the designated driver for his friends and just randomly came upon a burning car on his way home.  He called it in but had no gear to get the guy out of the car.  Watching someone burn to death was something he struggled with.  At the young age of 24, his life ended. He is a very big part of why I am such an advocate for mental health awareness.  He was a member of a volunteer fire department in a very small southern town.  There wasn’t anything in place to help him through the mental anguish I know he must have been experiencing.  Would it have changed his mind?  Maybe…maybe not.  There are things on this side of heaven that we are not meant to know. Now here is where my son feels like I punish him.  Guns.  I know.  There are a lot of opinions and thoughts on guns, and I feel you.  But we’re southern so it’s genetic for boys to be interested in guns.  Recently, my brother-in-law started taking my son to a gun club with him.  They teach gun safety and how to learn and respect weapons in a controlled environment.  Caveat, I am very particular about how we store and lock up the weapons in our house.  Rules are tight. For his 14th birthday, after much discussion, we bought him a 22 handgun.  Enter shiver and panic attack here.  You see this is the real “punishment” part.  My brother shot himself.  That was probably easy to figure out.  But what most people don’t know is I bought him the weapon, for his 24th birthday.  This was just a month before he took his life.  See why I’m struggling? Wow!  Never thought I’d share that part of my story.  I’ve protected my brother, even in death.  Small towns like to gossip and boy did ours.  There were so many rumors about why and how.  Well, there you have it.  But now I must navigate trusting my child but also protecting my traumatized heart. Ya’ll this mom thing is hard work.  Adulting sucks.  I don’t want to be a rational and grown-up person all the time.  I want to be the one who stomps my feet and cries.  But that’s not an option.  Booooo!! First things first; I must trust my child for the person he is and not let fear take over.  So far, he has followed all my rules.  The weapons in my house are locked and the ammo is locked and stored separately.  We do a double safety check to ensure the weapons are empty.  We are safe.  He has been taught to be safe. Next, I must not place my brother’s choices on him.  I do not have the fear that my child is going to hurt himself on purpose.  I know that most people, who know me, think I’m crazy, but I trust he isn’t going to walk down that path.  Giving a 14-year-old, who is on the high functioning end of the spectrum, is a big leap of faith.  But I’m real with him.  I’ve talked to him about my fears and why I worry the way I do.  He gets it and I trust him when he says he will not hurt me that way.  Again, mental health is a topic we discuss often in my house.  We call each other out when someone goes dark, and we work together to make sure no one goes to a place they can’t come back from. Also, there is the safety aspect.  I can’t watch him shoot.  I want to, but I can’t.  This is a hard thing for him to understand and I am working through it.  I am so thankful for my brother-in-law.  He is a fantastic uncle and I love him so much for the way he loves my children.  The club that they go to has been so good for my son.  He has not only learned how to clean and fire the weapons, but also what it feels like to fire them.  The curiosity is gone.  That helps to pull me out of the fear of his curiosity getting the better of him and an accident happening.  And he is learning all this in a controlled environment with people who know what they are doing. Finally, and probably most importantly, I have to listen to him when my fear and overprotective ways get the better of me.  I have to step back and rethink my approach when he feels like I am putting someone else’s actions on him.  He is his own person, and I must see that…of course all while still being mom and protecting him appropriately. How do I plan to get to this point of non-trauma driven fear?  Prayer.  I talk to God…a lot.  And He is the only thing that gets me through the tough days.  And there are a lot of them.  I like to think that all things really do happen for a reason.  I truly identify with Joseph.  That dude got knocked down and got up again over and over. Imagine being your dad’s favorite and having a dream that your brothers would bow down to you.  Then, when you tell them, they throw you in a pit.  But wait, that wasn’t the end, they sell you into slavery instead.  When things looked up and you feel like you are finding some peace, you get accused of messing around with a woman who’s advances you turned down.   You land straight in prison.  People show up and you interpret their dreams, and they promise they’ll remember you.  Yeah, they remembered, but it took what seemed like forever.  Finally, you a set free to see the Pharoah and he puts you in charge as his right-hand man. Wow!  Just wow!  So here you are, saving grain and saving lives.  Your brothers show up.  Remember them, they threw you in a pit and then sold you?  Here is your chance to get revenge.  But you don’t.  You use the place you are to save your family and reunite with the father who was told you were dead.   Well, isn’t that nice.  If only all stories had happy endings, right? Unfortunately, we don’t all get the chance to see the good that comes from our suffering.  Our traumas hit us and hit us and hit us again and we have no idea why we end up where we are.  And we most definitely do not understand why we had to go through the things we do. I will never know why my brother had to die the way he did.  So young and so full of life.  But I have accepted that I don’t need to know why.  What I do know is that God’s plan is so much bigger than I am.  Again, there are some questions I will not get answered on this side of heaven.  Yet every day I push forward trusting God will never leave or forsake me in any trauma I am experiencing.  The walk may be hard, but I will never walk alone.

Let’s talk about the “D” word. You know the one. It’s the word we don’t say because it will make us seem weak or unequipped to be a good mom. If we say it out loud, then we aren’t a good wife because we should be happier in our marriage. And we especially don’t want to mention it at church, because it’s a dirty word that insinuates our lack of trust in God. Let’s just rip off the Band-Aid and say it together, “DEPRESSION”! Ya’ll depression is a real thing. How do I know? Because I fight through it daily. Almost every day of my life, I have to force myself to get up and function. It’s a choice that I have to make no matter how difficult it is for me. And sometime “functioning” just looks like a move from the bed to the couch. Sometimes functioning is accomplishing nothing that day except maybe a shower. It’s not that I want to feel this way. I don’t wake up and think to myself, “hey, let’s be lazy and stare at walls today.” Instead, I give myself pep talks to motivate me to keep going. Truth bomb, I would like to be isolated from everything and everyone for a few days. No responsibility and no purpose. Just me and my thoughts and a blank wall for me to stare at. I know, that sounds out there. But this is where I am some days. And it makes me feel so selfish and ungrateful for my amazing life. You know that evil question, “what do you have to be depressed about?” As a mom, I am terrified what my depression is going to do to my children. Are they going to know that mommy is trying her best? What if I screw them up?!?!?! Truth is, we all get screwed up by our childhood, one way or another. I have learned that the best way to deal with this is to be honest with my children. Mental Health wasn’t something we discussed in my family. I literally grew up in the Miranda Lambert song “Mama’s Broken Heart”. For so long I worked hard to “hide my crazy and act like a lady!” But why? People get sad just like people get happy. When I was diagnosed with depression, I was ashamed because that’s what I was taught to be. Now, I’m not dissing on my parents. They taught me what they knew. But I know better. I know that depression is a real thing and it can affect all aspects of your life. Even your children. Little eyes and hearts see all things. I show them my flaws, my weaknesses, and my struggles. We share things and try our best to always be honest and transparent. We don’t hide crazy, we give it a coffee mug and put it on the front porch for the world to see. My husband is my biggest supporter and my reality check. I’m lucky in so many ways for having this man. He knows me and loves me anyway. It’s like he has a superpower that makes him in tuned with people. He knows from the first meeting if someone is what they present themselves as and he knows from the look on my face where my mind is. I can’t count how many times I’ve fallen short as a wife. After I retired from the Navy, I spent six months on the couch with the dogs doing nothing. For about eight hours every day I did nothing. It was great and not so great at the same time. Some days it was because I was so deep in myself that I couldn’t do anything. Other days, I was recovering from the exhaustion that depression brings me. Then in comes my husband. The guy who didn’t and doesn’t complain when I am home all day yet don’t “feel” like cooking. The man who will rewash his work clothes after I left them in the washer soaking wet for three days. And he is the man who makes sure our kids do their homework. I’m the wife that just exist some days. Feeling like I’m standing still and everyone else is living life around me. Even though he isn’t someone who shows much emotion, he is good to understand when I need him to be more because I feel like so much less. Paul wrote, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” So, we should be good, right? The typical believer spends about 4 hours a week or less inside a church setting. This can be life-group or Sunday worship or however you meet with other believers. A seven-day week contains two hundred eight hours. With eight hour s of sleep per night (I wish) that comes to one hundred fifty-two hours awake. That comes out to less than three percent of the time you are awake is spent gathering together corporately with other believers. Why am I doing all this math? Because, if you’re like me, you can put on a happy face for three percent of your week. And we do. “Fine, great, we’re good! God is good! No complaints!” Sound familiar? We never want to be the one to say “I have a great life and an amazing family. I know and trust that God is good. But I feel so heavy and weighed down by absolutely nothing and can’t seem to shake it.” The Psalms tell us “Cast your cares onto the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never let the righteous be shaken.” This is such a powerful statement. It shows both God’s love and protective nature. But sometimes depression isn’t a care or a burden that can be names. It’s nothing and everything at the same time. And you know what? It’s going to be okay, and even if it’s not, it’s going to be okay. Use your tribe. Lean in on the people God has given you on this earth. Don’t hide or be ashamed of your struggles. We were not meant to be alone. Let your church family love you. Depression can be destructive. If not properly addressed, you can let it destroy you and the things you care about. It can destroy your children and their ability to come to you and be honest about what they are feeling. It can destroy your marriage if you do not communicate with your partner what you are going through. If they are truly in it with you, they will go through it with you. And depression can destroy your testimony. You cannot live two lives putting on a different face for different people. COVID was a hard time for me. I need people and contact. I love the church as a community that comes together and meets. Right before everything shut down in March of 2020, we moved to a new town where we knew no one. We had not had a chance to visit any new churches or make any friends. I wasn’t even sure what stores were around us. It was so hard for me. Challenges kept coming. My kids were out of school and I was teleworking to be with them. Can I just stop right here and acknowledge how hard virtual learning was? Ya’ll! It was rough. Then the masks! It was like I could just hide my depression behind a piece of fabric. I didn’t have to fake happy. I could just mope through. Be aware of what mask you may hide behind. Now for a big one, medication. If you have high blood pressure, you treat it. Maybe even take medication. So, why are we so ashamed to be on medication for our mental health? Why is “antidepressant” such a taboo word to say? Normalize getting the help you need! If that’s meds or exercise or just a break. You do you boo! Because this Blessy and Messy world can get you down! Don’t let it! Fight back! Fight for your kids, your marriage and for a God who has your back and has huge plans for you.

Momming is hard! It’s even harder when your child faces challenges that are out of your control. My son is on the Autism Spectrum. He is what they consider “high functioning”, whatever that means. Sometimes he is rude and disrespectful while being loud and cussing like a Sailor. He isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Actually for most people he’s more of a burning shot of Whiskey. This makes friends hard. Not just for him but for all of us. We have had to make the decisions, as a family, to step away from churches, organizations, friends, and some family members in order for him to feel comfortable and to remove negativeness from our lives. It challenges us all different and I feel like it’s a constant fight for people to understand and accept him. Because no matter what, we are always a team! And when it comes to him or a friend, I will always pick him! One thing that happens a lot is people don’t think he “looks” autistic. So, what does autistic look like? Ya’ll, this burns me up! Just because you can’t look at him and see his challenges doesn’t make them any less there. Friends and family both have eagerly shared their opinion on how “spanking” him is all he needs. These are the people we remove from our lives. The people that can’t see past their own nose to see how wonderful he is. The people who do not understand that spanking him is the worst thing we could do for him. Now I’m not pro or against spanking. But I do feel like it’s a personal choice you have to make in your home and it really isn’t anyone else’s business. What works as discipline for some isn’t going to help for all. OK, stepping off that soapbox! He loves building things. Anything! And I’m not talking Legos. He likes building things out of wood. Desks, Planters, birdfeeders, you name it! I love watching the wheels in his mind roll around. He can look at a picture of the latest DIY I get in my head and then build it. He does all the measurement in his head and drags up to Home depot at least three times a week. But people miss that part of him. The part they see is the meltdown or the yelling when he gets overwhelmed. They don’t see a child that does long division in his head in seconds, they see the child who is blunt because he doesn’t know social ques. People see what they want to see, the surface. But he’s an onion…with layers peeling back each day. My daughter defends him all the time. She has lost friends because they have said rude and ugly things about him. She has been excluded from things like birthday parties and play dates. Many times, I have held her while she cried because she just doesn’t understand why people are mean. Granted they fight like cats and dogs. Sometimes they love each other and sometimes they don’t! But at the end of the day, she is his protector. She makes me proud! To my husband, he is the shadow that is a constant. They take the “like father, like son” saying to a whole new level. From the moment he was born, he has wanted to be just like dad! A year ago, we made the decision to homeschool. A classroom setting was too overwhelming for him and this has turned out to be a better option for us. Him and dad do school together and take breaks when he needs them. This man shows more love and patience than I ever imagined. I love him more and more every day that I watch them together. Me, I feel like I fail him daily. Each time a friend of mine decides he is “too much” or wants to exclude him from a birthday party because they are afraid he will “ruin it”, a piece of my heart breaks. When he is aware of this person’s opinions, its even more heartbreaking. And don’t kid yourself, he is very aware. So, here are some ways to be a friend to the mom with the special needs kid. The kid that doesn’t fall into your cookie cutter idea of what “normal means”. Meet her where she is. Loving someone through their challenges is the definition of friendship to me. I can go days without reaching out to people when we are going through an exceptionally challenging time. I have my own challenges with depression and anxiety that are increased when his anxiety is increased. It’s a vicious cycle that spirals out of control faster than I can blink. My true friends shine through during this time. They text, they call, they show up even when I’m trying to come up with a way to blow them off. They don’t open their door for me, they bust through my door, even in the rain, and love me where I am, not where is comfortable for them. Sometimes I just need someone to say, “I see you!” Do not criticize her child to her. Every heard the saying, “if you can’t say nothing nice, don’t say anything at all”? Well, Thumper the rabbit had a great point! Even if we are laying on your couch and crying while listing the many ways our child has made our life harder that day. Stay neutral and just listen. Be there. We don’t really want you to fix anything. There is nothing “wrong” with my child. He just sees the world differently. I don’t need fixed and my child doesn’t need fixed. We need friends that love us through the drama and provide a sounding board when we need to vent. Recognize that you have no idea what her life is like. What works today may be out the window tomorrow. Its an ever-changing world in my house. Each day is different. We have to go with the flow. This is hard for a lot of people. Even though we thrive on structure, we must be fluid to the stimulation that each day brings. I don’t even pretend I understand what other moms go through because every day, every family, every home and every child are unique and amazing in their own way. You just have to get over yourself enough to see them. Be honest with her. Sounds simple, but it’s not. And I’m not going to lie, I have been offended and went into full mama bear mode on people who come at me in the wrong way. Please remember, I am also a work in progress. There is no manual! If you are concerned about how my child will handle a potentially over stimulating situation, just be real with me. Love and respect me enough to be honest and do so with love and not condemnation of how difficult my child may seem to you. The worst thing is for your child to tell my child what you said. Then it causes a conflict for the kids that are just victims of adult immaturity. Siblings of Special Needs kids have it hard enough without carrying around adult perspective too. I’m sure I could sit here and list a thousand more ways you can support a mom like me. A thousand ways you can help my daughter not feel like she has to be a bodyguard. Or my husband like he isn’t being the strong head of the family. Or the mom like she isn’t enough because you don’t understand. I can even list millions of ways my child gets hurt because he knows he is different and sees the sacrifices we make for him. But at the end of the day what matters is that we are a team. We do not sacrifice, we stand together wearing the full armor of God battling through this life God chose for us. And what a miraculous joy it is to know that God chose me to be his mom. That God chose us to be his family. And with an open mind and an even more open heart, we can all be friends.

Webster says that Comparison is “a consideration or estimate of the similarities or dissimilarities between two things or people.” How often do we compare ourselves to another person? Her hair is prettier than mine. Her kids act better in public. Her family pictures always come out great. I could go on and on with ways that we, as women, fall face first into the comparison pit. And it really is a pit that once we fall in becomes deeper with every passing moment or passing swipe. Social Media has made it so easy to feel terrible about yourself and your life. My Social “Me”dia accounts are a reflection of only the parts of my life that I choose to show. And I’m sure yours are too. Let’s be honest, we want it to look like we have it all together. We clean the hardest in those 20 minutes before our guests show up. Our Mother-in Law may never know just how much laundry we have piled on top of the washer in baskets to fold. Our Life group may never see behind that guest room door that houses all the things we need to get around to putting away. And our kid may never know that the red shirt they wanted to wear was tumbled with a dryer sheet instead of being washed. Don’t judge me! You’ve either done it or at least considered it. And filters! I love filters!!!! The one that smooths out my face and makes me look airbrushed is my second favorite. My favorite is the one that gives me dog ears and a tongue! Life filtered isn’t real life. Remember that when you log on. How we filter our life can vary. I have moved stuff to one side of the counter to make sure my background looks clean. Key word here is “looks.” Because we know what it’s really like. I have a friend from High School who frequently posts the funniest stories about her boys. They are one hundred percent boy and she embraces the wildness. I also often post funny stories about my children. I remember sending her a message telling her “I win” because my son took the cake in the wild child awards. At my mother’s funeral, yes you read that correct, my child decided he wanted change for the coke machine. He thought he had hit the jackpot when he realized that there was a fountain just at the edge of the cemetery full of “free” coins. So…. he dived right in! My brother-in-law had to bribe him by trading him bills for the coins he had pulled out so they could be put back. Two things here; first, it was my mom’s funeral and I didn’t know where I was let alone where he was. Second, his daddy was supposed to be watching him. We laugh about it now, but I was mortified! That’s why I messaged her instead of posting it. I filtered out my life to someone who would see the story as funny, not take it as a chance to judge my parenting skills. Or lack there of! How often do we face God with a filter? I’m gonna let that sit for a second. When we go to God, with our prayers, do we filter out only what we want to admit? Ask only for the things we think are worthy of Him? Only the things we feel like are “Godly” requests? Do we go to Him with the wins and the losses? Ya’ll! These are some hard questions my friends! Transparency is my motto so I’m going to tell you my answers. Sometimes I filter out what I think is “big enough” to ask God for. I have my hidden personal sins that I hold tight to for absolutely no reason. He already knows me. He knows that hidden space in my mind and heart and life that I don’t share with anyone. So, why do I do it? Comparison. I compare myself to what I see as appropriate. I compare my prayers to those who speak more eloquently than I do. I am literally the filter that is keeping me from fully giving it all to God. My worst enemy is the voice between my ears. The “me” in “media” is what fuels the comparison game and makes me feel less. Less as a mom, less as a wife and less as a woman all in for God. It’s a vicious cycle that never stops spinning. So, lets jump off! After all, comparing yourself to others is just another way of serving them instead of serving God. Galatians 1:10 says “For am I trying to win the favor of people or God or am I striving to please people? If I were trying to please people, I would not be a slave to Christ.” Who are you serving? What are you a slave too? I know what you are thinking; and no, I do not think we should all give up social media. I feel like there is value in the platforms that connect us when we use them in a healthy way. Post the messy stuff! Trust me, it helps other people to see that you are a real person too. All of our houses get messy. Laundry and dishes are never completely done. No one has kids that behave all the time. Some of the stories about our children can make others smile. When you are blue, people can pray with and for you. And when you need a pick me up, your tribe will show up and carry you until you feel steady again. Post pictures that have laundry in the background. Laugh about the exercise bike that is now a clothes rack. Stay in your pajamas all day and enjoy it! Be you. Not me! Not her! You!! You are the best version of yourself. If your show others the truest version of you, then they will feel safe enough to be the truest version of themselves. Kids are wild and are capable of things I would have never imagined. But they are also funny as all get out. Was I embarrassed that my child went coin diving in the cemetery fountain at his grandmother’s funeral? Absolutely! But it was also hilarious!!! His little 8-year-old self diving headfirst into the fountain was probably just the comic relief we needed at that moment, even if we didn’t realize it. He was soaked! And when I asked “why?” He just smiled with his bright blue eyes and freckle face and I just laughed. In one of the hardest moments of my life, the wet mess that was my child, made me laugh. God showed up unfiltered. I sometimes play games on my phone to pass time. Probably not anything abnormal. But when I win a level, on my favorite game, the word “victory” pops up. I immediately sing to myself (most of the time just in my head) “Oh, Victory in Jesus…” I know it’s a little corny. But I contribute every win to Him. He is the center of my wins and the rock in my losses. I sometimes wonder if my life is the comic relief that makes God laugh. And yes, I believe God laughs. After all, why can’t the source of all joy feel joyful? Ya’ll if you could see inside my head at all the silly things I imagine, you would laugh too. My internal dialog never, literally never, stops talking. And sometimes its British. See, you laughed, didn’t you? I laugh at myself often. I encourage my children to laugh at themselves. Life is messy. Real life doesn’t have a filter option. In the words of my husband, ”it is what it is!” And its going to be ok, and even if its not, its still ok. With God we can do anything. Remove the filter between you and God, and the filter between you and the world, so you can let other people in your life. The real you. You might realize you aren’t as alone in this Blessy and Messy world as you thought you were.

I am a planner. Okay, maybe not a planner in the conventional sense. I like to make list and I am obsessed with calendar planners. Especially the ones with the stickers! Yes girl! Bring it on! It’s like a little mini scrapbook. I will even add items to my list after I do them just so I can check them off. You wouldn’t believe how excited I just got typing this paragraph. Problem is, I hardly ever stick to the plan. So, I’m actually more of a “fly by the seat of my pants” kinda girl. Through time and experience, I have learned to be flexible. Why? Because it seems like every time I make a plan, God redirects me to where His plan is taking me. Now for the fun part. How do we react when the “wrong” door opens? What is our response when our plan and God’s plan doesn’t line up? Paul is my homeboy! I love Paul! He is a true redemption story. He was literally on a path to Damascus when he met Jesus! A path! How perfect is that? As someone who killed and persecuted the followers of Christ, I guarantee that wasn’t his plan for the day. He was redirected big time. Then look at his life. In and out of prison. Writing all these letters to all these churches telling them “Don’t be like I was!” and “Open your eyes!” I’m paraphrasing of course. The thing that sticks out is how easy his life was before Jesus overtook his path. He was wealthy in a worldly way and was feared and revered. Then he wasn’t. But then he was. In his letter to the Philippians, he said “I have known what is like to have plenty and I have known what it is like to have nothing and I have learned to be content in any circumstance.” Hold up! Any circumstance? Yes, he said “any!” Sounds great, but how do we live that out? I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to wait for Jesus to descend on a path in front of me try to figure it out. It’s so easy to grumble and groan when things are going wrong. We, as humans, tend to focus on the negative. It’s in the news and on social media and all around us. We don’t always see the good in people until we have already sized them up and determined their flaws. Often, we are less likely to go to God with our prayers of thanksgiving than we are with our prayers of want. I confess, I’ve even prayed my want prayers in a way that made them sound like thanksgiving. Twisted as it may sound, I’m human. I few years back I was in an auto accident. I was entering an intersection after stopping at a red light. A car coming from my right did not stop and hit my back corner panel. When I opened my eyes, I was still inside my vehicle and the pavement was outside my driver side window. My brand new, 6-week-old, hadn’t made a payment Jeep Wrangler was destroyed. Thankfully, the roll cage did its job and I crawled out the busted top and stood up. I had bruising from the seatbelt and where my knee hit the dash, but I was so lucky. The fireman asked me how old the Jeep was because he could see the undercarriage was spotless. He also asked what type of vehicle I had before the Jeep. When I told him a minivan, he said that the Jeep saved my life. You see, a Wrangler is made to fall over. A mini van is rounded and would have continued to roll into oncoming traffic. The Jeep had a roll cage made to take an impact. The mini van would have crushed in around me and they would’ve had to cut me out. Moral of the story…buy a Jeep! Just kidding. No seriously, Jeeps are the best! The thing is that was not my plan for the day. A friend and I had shared lunch and I had, thankfully, just dropped her off. I absolutely loved my Jeep and was so sad. But look at God work. He put me in that vehicle at that time for a reason. I was able to walk away for a reason. A man at the scene was trying to help me gather up my belongings from the center of the road. I practically live out of my vehicle and the contents of my Mary Poppins purse were strewed across the street. All I was worried about was my Bible. It was important to me. I had notes and names and prayers in it. In it, was so much of my testimony. He found it and I just held tight to God’s promises. A few months later, I left it on the table when I went to work. My precious and perfect dog that hasn’t ever destroyed anything, destroyed my Bible. I was sick to my stomach over it. I gathered up the pieces into a plastic bag and just couldn’t even think about it. When I finally decided to look through and see how much was destroyed, I realized she was a New Testament believer because she ripped out the Old Testament and shredded it. And the book of Leviticus, was completely gone. Not my plan. But God showed me beauty through the tears and reminded me that my faith wasn’t about the book, it was about my trust in Him and His promises. And although my testimony was documented on those pages, I was living out my testimony by the way I trusted Him. So, I got a new Jeep and a new Bible. And I love them both. I could not even list all the times my plan was derailed and God showed me His way was better. I mean, I know it is, but I sometimes choose to forget. He tells us to “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. (Proverbs 3:5)” Truth Bomb! I lean on my own understanding way more than I like to admit. And every time, I’m like the kid who was told not to touch the hot stove and got burnt. When things get stressful in my life or with my kids, I will say “Jesus take the wheel!” My children have started adding on to the last word drawing it out to “wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeellllllllllllllll” in an extremely high-pitched voice. It’s awful, but most of the time it lightens the mood. Sometimes we will even yell out “wrong wheel Jesus!” But think about it…Jesus never has the wrong wheel. Its never the wrong path and He never leads us to places He can’t bring us back from. He’s like a roll cage for my crazy life. Things like Jeeps and Bibles can be replaced. What can’t be replaced is the place Jesus holds in me. He is in me therefore I trust Him. And trusting isn’t always easy. Sometimes the faith it requires passes all understanding. So, how do you do it? No idea! I’m still working on it myself. I die to self-daily in order to live for Him. My daughter once asked me, “mom, how is it that you trust God so much?” You see, my children struggled with God when my mom died. They couldn’t understand how I trusted someone that let mommies die. I had to explain that God and I had history. A relationship built over time. Sometimes it’s full of reward and sometimes its full of consequence for my choices. But it’s always full of the love and joy that I can only get from God. Happiness is temporary and of this world. Joy is from God and can not be shaken or taken from me. That is what my trust is built on. I have learned to be content in any situation because God is in every situation. He’s God, so I don’t pretend that I actually “let” Him do anything, but I welcome Him into the day to day of my life. I choose Him over me to follow. Now sometimes that may be lived out rolling across an intersection or spending time on my knees for hours in bookstores looking for a new Bible. God is good all the time, and all the time, God is good. Even in this blessy and messy world, He never takes the wrong wheel. You just have to choose to let go and let Him have it.

Do you ever look in the mirror and not recognize the person looking back? Or maybe you look at a picture from sixteen years ago and ask yourself, “where did she go?” Ya’ll, I have a picture of me that was taken a month before I met my husband. Let me tell you, I can fully see what he fell for. I was a looker! I was also fun and carefree and twenty-four. And if I am completely honest with myself, I wouldn’t trade places with that girl for a million dollars. This life is hard and over the last sixteen years, we have faced trials and troubles together. But the ride has been worth it. Yet that blasted mirror still gets me almost every day. Not because my body has changed, it has, but that’s not what I see. I see a mom who has no idea who she is or what she enjoys. I can tell you that my son loves to build things and going camping. My daughter is part of a ballet company and works harder than any eleven-year-old I’ve ever met so that she can get her point shoes next year. My husband is a phenomenal bowler. The type of bowler that you don’t want to bowl with because they are so good. Don’t get me wrong. I have hobbies. I read, a lot. I like to craft and I’m obsessed with my dog. But I don’t consistently make time for myself to do anything just because I want to. The last few crafts I have done were in a haste to create a beautiful gift for someone else. I’m not unhappy. Anyone who knows me would tell you I am full of happiness and joy. This isn’t a pity party. Its just a reflection of how we lose ourselves sometimes. Our purpose becomes our family and we like it that way. Being a good mom and a good wife are at the top of our list of things to do. But I’m exhausted trying to keep up with myself. I am currently involved with 3 in depth Bible studies, I volunteer at church, I’m on a media committee for the ballet company, on planning committees for a church event and I work forty hours a week. My commute is fifty-four miles each way. I love my life, but sometimes I feel like I’m on a roller coaster going ninety miles an hour and I’m terrified to step off. Can I get an Amen? Like most women, I take on too much and say “yes” to just about anything someone asks me to do. I think about Jesus and The Sermon on the Mount. He told the crowd, “Let yours yes be yes and your no be no. Anything that is more than these is of the evil one.” (Matt 5:37) Most people read this passage and think about not being a “lukewarm” believer. I see it as “say what you mean and mean what you say.” Recently I had planned to attend an event. Then on the day of, I just didn’t feel like it. Not going wouldn’t affect anyone but me. It wasn’t like anyone was depending on me to be there. I had no real reason to skip out other than I just didn’t want to go. So, I stayed home. Ya’ll, I felt so guilty. Like I was lazy and a bad person. I know you can relate. It’s the pressure we put on ourselves to be everywhere. That “the church doors are open so they need me to be there” feeling. I spent the evening at home reading a book on the couch with my dog in my lap, but I was running through ideas in my head of what excuse I would make when someone said the predictable line “we missed seeing you.” Basically, I was trying to come up with a lie to cover myself for just not wanting to. But why? At forty years old, I’m grown! Or at least I think I am. Why can’t I just say, “I decided not to” and opt out? Truth bomb!!!! I can!!! And you know what? You can too!!! Deuteronomy 15:10 says “You shall freely and generously give to Him, and your heart shall not be resentful when you give to Him, because for this generous thing the Lord your God will bless you in all your work and in all your undertakings.” He isn’t just talking about our money ladies; He is also talking about our time. God doesn’t want us to do things begrudgingly and out of an exhausted heart. He wants us to give freely and generously. So, here are few things I am trying to implement in my life to help me be more of a “Yes Girl for Jesus” instead of a “Yes Girl for the World.” First, I say “trying” because that is what I do daily. I try! I try to be what God wants and not what I want. Once again, I encourage you to give yourself grace. Forgiving others comes easier to me than forgiving myself; but why? Why can’t I give myself the same grace I’d give you if you just came out and said that you just didn’t want to do it. And it can be anything! Tell the girl scout and the boy scout at the door to Walmart that you aren’t interested instead of promising to catch them on the way out and then sneaking passed out another door. I am so guilty of this. I am probably one of the very few who hate girl scout cookies and I do not need any more tin cans of popcorn. I simply say, “no thank you” and go about my day. Next, own your “no”! My mom used to have a saying “N-O spells no, it means you can’t have, can’t do, can’t go!” My brother and I knew that her “no” was final. No going back. No wavering. Be that person. “The Godly walk with integrity; blessed are their children who follow them. (Proverbs 20:7)” What example are we setting for our children if we say “yes” in public but grumble in private. Little ears hear it all. I for one do not want to be teaching my children that you must agree to things you don’t want to do. That can lead to very dangerous habits. This is the same reason I haven’t forces my children to take pictures with people dressed up as characters or Santa. They have the right to say “no.” Then, find your thing. The thing that brings you true joy and allows you to serve the Lord while still being the best you can be for your family. Self-awareness in what you enjoy and need are important. Now make time for it. You’ll be a better version of yourself. Will there be people who don’t like it? Of course! Especially when it comes to volunteering to help in a place of need. I am not a kid person. I love my children but being in charge of a room full of other people’s kids gives me major anxiety. When asked to volunteer in the children’s ministry, I said “no” because I did not want to dread my day of service. I was able to find a place that I wasn’t in a room with kids but still was able to fulfill a need. God isn’t calling you to every opportunity that is placed in front of you, He wants you to make a choice that glorifies Him. Finally, be nice to others when they use their “no.” Grace my friends! Grace! God says to “love Him first and then love others as we love ourselves.” Loving God is easy. Loving others can be challenging sometimes. But do it anyway people! When this life is blessy and messy, just be kind and love like Jesus!

Confession time! I have hidden in the pantry while eating a candy bar. Ok, not just a candy bar. Also, a glass of wine, or the last soda, or a bag of chips, or any snack that I just felt like I wanted to eat in peace and not share. Alone time, as a mom, is basically nonexistent. From the time our children are born they are literally latched onto us. Pun intended! I would even pull a bassinet into the bathroom so I could see the baby from the bathtub. My husband and I would bath one child in the shower with us and then trade each other for the next one. My daughter sat in foam baby chair thingy on the counter while I cooked. Togetherness was efficient. Then I got tired ya’ll! Tired of always sharing. Creating boundaries with our kids is so hard. Mostly because, when they are babies, we want to have our eyes on them constantly. No wonder they attach themselves to out leg when we drop them off at daycare. Then there is the most dreaded feeling a mom can feel, guilt. We feel guilty for wanting time away from our children. Afterall, we chose to be moms. We wanted this job and we love it. Our children are the lights of our life. But even Jesus took some time to Himself. The Gospels often talk of Jesus sending away crowds so He could spend some alone time in prayer. Even the night before He was to die for our sins, He took some time alone. He understood the value of His purpose, here on earth, but He also understood the value of recharging alone. I came to realized that my alone time with Jesus was one of the first things I neglected as a new mom. Those five-minute power naps that infants are notorious for taking, only lasted long enough to transfer the laundry from the washer to the dryer. How do you fit it in? “Get up earlier” was the common advice. It never failed that the earlier I got up, the earlier the kids woke up. Again, boundaries are hard. Gender separation was so freeing for me. You know, when the kids are getting to the age that they start to notice they are made different and you can no longer combine bath times. My daughter has always been a self-entertained child so she faired pretty well. My son, not so much. He is really my clingier child who wanted (still wants) to follow me everywhere. This new rule allowed me to go to the bathroom without him. Of course, he still stuck his fingers under the door an knocked a hundred times, but that closed door was my momentary shield from all obligation. It was also the heavy wall of guilt that I felt crumbling down on me. There’s that word again. So, where’s the balance? How do I take care of myself and not feel like I’m not taking care of my children? How am I the mom that I think I’m supposed to be while being the person God had designed me to be? You’re probably reading this thinking, “whoa there! That’s a lot of questions!” And you’d be right. These are questions that we ask ourselves over and over until we are so exhausted that we are no good to our children or our husbands or ourselves. Here are some answers that through different seasons have worked for me. No is ok. You can say “No, mommy is going to take a bath alone.” Or “No, this is mommy’s snack.” Will you have to deal with a tantrum, almost certainly the first few times. But eventually, you will establish a healthy boundary. Imagine this, you are at the park and you child is playing with their favorite toy or eating their favorite snack and another child comes up and wants them to share. They can say “no, thank you.” After all, if I’m sitting on a park bench reading a book and having a snack, I’m not going to say “here, you wanna read with me.” And if you read over my shoulder, I will think you’re creepy. It’s ok for your children not to share as long as they are kind. Same goes for you. Don’t yell or get angry with your children. Just speak to them in a kind and polite manner letting them know what the boundaries are. Does it aways work? Absolutely not! But sometimes it does and then it starts to become the norm. Use your tribe. There was an eight-month period, when my children were one and two, that my husband lived in another state. I was planning to separate from the Navy and he had moved back to my home state to start getting our life set up there. Active-Duty Military is a hard life. Active Duty alone with two small children is an extremely hard life. Shout out to all my single parents and military spouses out there. You are my heroes! Who are my other heroes? My tribe!!! My tribe is a group of people who have been there for me when I needed them. The little things truly do matter. Once a month, the kids and I would either take a long weekend trip to see my husband or he would come see us. One trip back was awful! Typically, I could do the drive in nine hours, easy. This trip took almost thirteen. Yes, thirteen hours in a small crossover SUV with two dachshunds and two toddlers. Jesus, take the wheel! By the time I got close to my house I was determined that I would not get them out again. But I had no milk at my house. Being the problem solver I am, I went through the drive through at a fast-food restaurant and ordered six of their happy meal sized milks. Sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do! When one of my tribe found out, she started making sure there was a gallon of milk in my fridge before I crossed the state lines. Another one of my tribe cut my grass. Another folded the pile of laundry and did the dishes while I took a much-needed shower. Ya’ll leaving the conditioner in your hair a few minutes really does matter. Shaved legs matter, even if you are the only one to enjoy the feeling. One of my tribe even picked up my two kids from the daycare and took them to my house with her three kids and a super-sized order of chicken nuggets because I had surgery and my bladder wouldn’t wake up. Get a tribe! Church small groups fill two purposes. First, you are spending time in the word and growing with other believers. Second, those beautiful humans who are willing to love your children during this time. We all have our spiritual gifts and where we feel called to serve. I still keep in contact with the ladies that I would graciously hand my babies to every Sunday morning. They would inevitably take the huge hair bow off my daughter and shoes never made it to pick up, but I knew without a doubt that they were safe and loved. The first time is always hard, but its healthy for both you and the child to get a break. And nothing is sweeter than the toothless grin that you get when you pick them up. Ask for help! Friends always say, “let me know if you need anything.” But do we ever tell them for real. I’m going to let you know, part of my paying it forward is living out that statement. If I am able, I will be there for you. I am part of the tribe. I will cook you a meal or walk the floor with a crying baby or whatever you need at the moment. During a thunderstorm, I had friends show up with a gallon of milk and a bottle of wine! I can be that girl. But I do not know what your struggle is if you don’t ask for help. No shame in the game! Friends, this mom thing is so hard and so great at the same time. I like to sound poetic and say, ”it’s the most exhaustingly rewarding thing you’ll ever do.” And it is, but again….its worth it. So, live out your blessy messy life and learn to take care of the one who takes care of everyone.

How many times have we stepped back and asked ourselves that magic question “how did it happen?” Or better yet, “how did we/it get here?” Unfortunately, the answer we often get from our children and ourselves is “I have no idea!” God tells us we are all here for a reason but that can be hard to swallow when the going gets tough. So, how do we cope? How do we lean on God and trust Him when we have no idea how we ended up there? Let me tell you a story. When my son was five, he was like a wrecking ball! A friend, from church, once told me that we needed to wrap the child in bubble wrap! Truth be told at twelve, he hasn’t really outgrown it. We were living in San Antonio and he came home from kindergarten like nothing was going on. We played, ate dinner and just as I was getting ready to tuck him in bed the words “Mom, I think there might be something in my nose.” Think and might? How do you not know? I took my cell phone flashlight and shined it in his nose. Side note, the cell phone flashlight was a genius invention. Sure enough, there was something black way up in there! So much for bedtime. He wouldn’t let me try to get it out with tweezer no matter what I bribed him with. Yes, bribery is a thing in parenting. Don’t judge, you’ve either been there or will be there one day. This very smart and strong-willed child of mine also loved to go to the emergency room. We were such frequent flyers that they knew us when we came in. Not the place you want to be known. And it was a military hospital with a high personnel turnover. All the way to the ER I kept asking “How did it get in there?” and “Do you know what it is?” Of course, he had no idea what it was or how it got there. Pulling up to the ER, I grab my mom bag, you know the one with extra snacks, bottled water, a book, extra socks, a hoodie, and phone charger in it; and in we went. First thing our favorite nurse says “hey Buddy! What have you done this time?” Picture me hiding my face and shaking my head. We got checked in and she took his vitals. We were eventually escorted to our “usual” room. It was typically a request from my man child that he have the room with the biggest tv. And let me tell you, those big blue eyes and freckles are hard to say no to. He flips channels to get to his favorite, because by now he knows what the channel number is by heart. He lays the bed back and puts the foot up like he owns the place. Then we wait while he is snuggled down in the warmed blanket that favorite nurse always brings. This is just one reason why she is his favorite. Just as his blanket cools and he is about ready to bolt, the doctor comes in to check him out. First thing the doctor asked was “How did it get in there?” and “Do you know what it is?” Again, the smiling little red head is clueless. Then the doctor pulls out the long skinny tweezers that they are going to use to pull this thing out with. By now, I just want to get it over with and go home so I am willing to sit on him if I have to. When I say this child freaked out, that is an understatement! He started to hyperventilate and scream. The doctor decided to sedate him a little. We first tried the very nasty “mom blows in one side of his nose to dislodge the other side” method with no movement. I thought I was going to puke and he thought it was so funny. We do what we do for our children. The drug of choice for this procedure was some kind of gas. He loved it!!!! He put that mask over his face and sucked in like a plunger in a toilet! Then the giggles started. He was hilarious, even if it was 10 pm and we were in the ER on a school night. And yes, he was going to school the next day. If I had to go to work, he had to go to school. Fair is fair. Once he was calm the doctor came back with the tweezers and we were on our way to figuring out what exactly was up his nose. Ya’ll, it was a rubber washer! This led to some very confusing questions. How did he get a rubber washer? What did it come off of? And how did it get up his nose? His answer, “I don’t know!” Isn’t that how we face our life? How did I get here? How did I let life and sin distract me so much that I couldn’t see what God saw? In Proverbs, we are told to “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.” But still, we don’t know where we went wrong. That night, I was not planning for my path to take me to the ER at bedtime. I was not expecting to have to help restrain my child while a doctor pulled a rubber washer out of his nose. And I certainly did not understand how it could have gotten in his nose without any explanation or clue how it got there. I was actually feeling like I was winning as a mom that night. Everyone was agreeable and bathed and we were on schedule. But this was God’s path that night and I trust that He had His reasons even if I never fully know what they were. The storms hit when we are least expecting them. About a year later, we were talking about what we called the “mysterious rubber washer” and he came clean. Apparently, he had found the washer on the playground at school. He wanted to keep it and had no pockets. So, he stuck it up his nose for safe keeping. Completely logically! Now we sit back and laugh, but this was a little scary at the time. The “what ifs” can drive you crazy at a rapid pace in the moments we have no idea how we got to. But just like him, we get ourselves into these messes all on our own. We lean on our own understanding and get to a place we didn’t want to be and face consequences we don’t want to face. We are in a scary place of what ifs that freak us out! But sometimes we have to laugh through it. So, what did this teach me? First, sometimes things are going to end up where we think they aren’t supposed to be. But even in the chaos, we are told to trust God and His plan. Nothing! Let me say it louder for the people in the back, NOTHING! Nothing is a surprise to God. He has a plan for each and every one of us. Second, Own it! Whatever it is, own it. Most of the time your situation is a direct result of your choices. Choose wisely, but if you can’t, own your choices. Romans 10:10 reminds us “For with your heart you believe and are justified, and with your mouth you confess and are saved.” Confess it and own it even if it’s a year later and you decide to lay that burden down at the foot of the cross. Lay it down! And if it is painful like a pair of tweezers in your nose, and it may be very painful, give it to God. He is the only one who can heal you. Third, Laugh through it! Act like you’ve got a gas mask feeding you laughing gas and just go along for the ride. Redirect and keep going. God doesn’t want us to stop or get stuck. Not stuck in our sin or our drama and definitely not our nose! He wanted us to learn to lean on Him fully and completely. It’s like dancing in the rain, you’re going to get wet and there may be a mess to clean up, but the moment is worth it. Trusting that God can wash away sin like the rain washes us clean is worth the journey. Again, this isn’t always easy. Life is hard and it gets in our way. Sometimes we simply get in our own way. Lean on your tribe. You know that group of women in your life that you can call and say “wanna hear what child A did today?” and both of you can laugh through it knowing you aren’t alone in this blessy and messy world. Even if you don’t know how you got to the place you are stuck in today, God can get you out.