Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Recap of 08

After a couple blogs I frequent did year end recaps, I began to recap MY year. At first, thinking about my past month or so, I thought I did not want to recap, but as I began to look through the 88 posts I published this year, I realized it may be worth listing the highlights.

So here it is. 2008 experienced by daphne in one neat little blog post:

  • I had major surgery with even more major recovery needed including a botched boob job.
  • both my love and I were able to check off a goal we set last January. I will have read through the bible in a year and he finally got our credit cards under control and we NO LONGER USE THEM!
  • I blogged and shared my Testimony with a Moms bible study at my church and did not even get asked to leave. ; )
  • I discovered SCL, Twitter, & Facebook. Love all but Twitter!
  • Got a fab new Tat that was even in a contest that I did not win but I feel like I made the finals.
  • My family and I dressed as pirates and went to a Pirate Festival for Mother's Day
  • I followed the rise and fall of Todd Bently
  • I discovered archery and love it! My goal for 09 is to shoot a squirrel!
  • I decided cussing was fine then my pastor preached strongly against it and now I cuss almost as bad as when I was in the army. Not sure what that is about.
  • Wii Fit kicked my ass but then I started mastering it before the power went out for over a week and wiped the memory clean and I was too lazy to start again from the beginning.
  • I listened to The Last Lecture. This was his last year to give it before he died.
  • I celebrated the 10 year mark since my first daughter was born and died.
  • Our family attended a real and true family reunion and I learned about my family roots and history
  • My love and I learned about a kid in foster care named Leondre.
  • I attempted to up my efforts to go green.
  • With my girls almost 5, almost 7 and 9, we have had more talks about the birds and the bees and also race.
  • We fostered Yorkie puppies and it was hell but so fun. Like it to having a newborn but on a much lesser scale.
  • Gustav hit us HARD.
  • I splurged on a pair of high heeled Crocs and I Love Them!
  • Despite my aversion to Christian trends, I read The Shack and got hit below the belt with it.
  • My oldest discovered arm pit hair.
  • And finally it snowed in the deep dirty south!

Being in such a dark, cold winter season of my life right now, the snow covering the ground in Southern Louisiana was quite symbolic. I called a friend that is in her own blizzard and can handle my foul language and told her I was pretty sure we had brought down the wrath of God because the tree that the hurricane uprooted in my front yard was covered in snow.

After confirming I had not in fact missed the Rapture, I realized while things seem impossibly bad for me, this too shall pass. I may show my ass a lot on the journey and through the process but I will come out of this and I look forward to 2009. Thats what Im talkin bout, baby!!

Monday, December 22, 2008


My girls and I are huge fans of the TLC tv show Jon & Kate Plus 8. I have always admired the family and could see they had a faith in God despite their secular tv show. Maybe it made me like them more because instead of Jon & Kate Plus 8's Bible Verse Song Sing-a-long they chose a wider path to tell their story.

When I saw they had a book out, I asked for it for Christmas. While I was interested in the read about a family I have grown to love, I wanted a way to 'support' them as well.

As I started the book while avoiding the rage that threatened to boil over and as a way to steer clear of the bible, I was hit rather hard by the fact that God continues to speak to me no matter how hard and fast I try to run from Him. I guess Tarshish is all booked up this time of year.

I have almost no circumstances, no details to match that of Kate or even Jon Gosselin, yet page after page of the book spoke directly to what I face today. Who knows. It may even carry me to the next moment I am believing the lie that I have, despite all the power and sovernity that is God, found a way to seperate myself from His Love for me.

I say we have no sameness, but that is not really true. Just the major points of their story are not the major points of mine. But like Kate, I am a control freak who has an action plan and tons of to do lists to help me map out my life. When God's plans are different, that can be hard for personalities like ours. And while I have never really faced infertility, I remember what is feels like to believe that all my dreams had ben stolen and left me empty, betrayed and broken.

Kate mentioned Psalm 139:16 which says all of our days are fashioned for us before we even live one of them. God knew what was going to happen to me today. And He knows how I will move through this winter into more barable spiritual tempatures. I loved when Kate talked about how she reacted to her sickness during pregnancy with her twins that kept her in and out of the hospital. She felt she had paid her dues and should not have to suffer again in this way. It was not fair and she whined and complained the whole way through.

She shared about an adoption she had to walk away from that broke her heart and how knowing a decision is the right one to make, does not make the sting of the consequencs any easier to bear. Kate also shares about her many face to face confrontations with the Why me? monster. I mean, I am so sorry for all that family had to go through to get to the cute little 30 minute show we watch on tv, but I still find some comfort in the recording of her journey. Right before Kate was admitted to the hospital with the sextuplets, Jon lost his job because his company did not want to pay insurance for the family. Even after the courts admitted this truth, Jon still lost the hearing and was out of a job. That must have been horrible! We have been there, just on a much different scale. But Kate talks about how it grew them as a family and enabled Jon to be there for their twins while Kate was in the hospital for months. They realized God had a bigger plan than they could see. It felt like a nightmare at the time but in hindsight turned out to be a blessing that taught them trust in a God worthy of trust and so much more.

I am only 50 pages or so in and I have found what I need to finish today and start tomorrow. I accept the comfort my God is offering me and trust when I am next drained, He will continue to be faithful. That's what Im talkin about.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

The Way Things Are

I believe a good indicator of the future can be the past. Factor God in and anything can happen. I am not so cynical to believe things will never change. But I am a realist.

Right now because of a loophole, we are fighting to prove we own the home we live in. I told my love while I do believe we will get through this, something else will come up as long as my mother is alive. I believe this about sums up the Christian's life too. It must suck to not be a believer in Christ and hear that if you decide to become a Christian, things may not get better. I can say there is a difference to my trials and hardships now than there used to be. I can find hope and joy among the difficult things I face. I can find peace in knowing I am loved with a Love nothing can ever destroy. I find comfort in the fact that one day my life on earth will end and I will enter paradise.

But man, I am wasted. Just when I was getting over the holidays being traumatic, I am back to the way things are. I was talking to my mother-in-law about what is happening to us and she says she can not wrap her mind around it all. I told her I could because it is just my life. It is what I have known and what I am used to.

I tell you the difference this time; compared to 10 years ago, or even 5, the rage boils internally but Christ gives me a sliver of self control so I do not have to heap guilt and condemnation on my brokenness. The blackness of rage feels so sick as it swirls around a home Christ dwells in. It is so hard to walk into a church service, or talk to the Pastor's wife or do all the other cute little things Christians do and not let the darkness show through. Then there is the idle conversations with her about traffic and whatnot after she just said she was going back on her word and she owns everything I thought to be mine. To be honest, it is all fucking exhausting.

It matters not if we are right or wrong. It matters not what we suffer or what our children are put through. It matters not what is true or just. There is a price to pay when you sue your mother to keep your home. Especially if it leaves her with nothing in the process. On the outside, people will look at me different and on the inside, because I have daughters of my own, what it does to the inside is vile.

Thursday, December 04, 2008

Hatein on Joyce

I was introduced to Joyce Meyer veeery soon after becoming a Christian and have followed her ever since. It helped that my church likes her and has her over (to speak, not for a pajama party or whatever).

I bought this teaching of hers a while back even though I almost never do that. I am a reader. I can not 'get it' by listening but I watched her on TV one day and thought the teaching would be helpful to someone else in my life. Maybe my sister. Don't even remember and I never got around to giving it away. Funny, right?!? So I put it on for positive background noise while I worked like mad on my non-profit stuff and it was about the exact things I have been thinking about so here is an email to a few choice friends that resulted;

So I am listening to Joyce M because I am trying to not sit around and think of ways to make my mother disappear and I got some conviction which I guess is good because it means I can still hear Him.

She said something that pissed me off and I thought it good enough to share. She said if your life is crap (I am paraphrasing) change your thoughts and attitude. She said even if nothing ever changes and gets better or even gets worse, if you choose to think on Good, ie God and His Word, even if your life is still crap, you should feel better because of the power of the Word.

So I think to myself, Joyce is nuts. She don’t know. But then I go to read my bible reading o’ the day and it is Psalm 121 (because I have been busy premeditating murder instead of reading my bible and I am behind) and I think to myself, do I believe this or not? Not how do I feel but do I believe it is True. I say yes. So I read it a few times and thought of all my friends that I can not even encourage and support because I am in such a hole and I prayed the Truth for yall.

I may not believe Joyce or believe that things will ever get better for me or you but I still have enough faith to believe the Word is True, even if only on the other side of heaven.

Psalm 121
I look up to the mountains – does my help come from there? 2 My help comes from the LORD, who made the heavens and the earth! 3 He will not let you stumble and fall; the one who watches over you will not sleep. 4 Indeed, he who watches over Israel never tires and never sleeps. 5 The LORD himself watches over you! The LORD stands beside you as your protective shade. 6 The sun will not hurt you by day, nor the moon at night. 7 The LORD keeps you from all evil and preserves your life. 8 The LORD keeps watch over you as you come and go, both now and forever.

Things are shit right now. Some of the things my friends are facing are vile. I hate it! I hate drug addiction and divorce and bad economies and sickness and doctors that can not heal and red tape keeping a child in an orphanage and parents that have children but abuse and I am gonna stop before I start cussing but I hate it. But I guess I still think my God is Good. And He is gonna have to be enough. Thats what Im talkin bout.

Monday, December 01, 2008

Psalm 19:14

I do not feel it, I do not even really want it, but how can I deny a God Who sends me so much support and encouragement when I am at my worst?

I am still in the Word and have chosen to say out loud as often as I can Psalm 19:14 May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing in Your eyes oh Lord my Rock & my Redeemer.

Thanks to each of you for holding me up when I could not do it myself. Yall are gold.

Sunday, November 30, 2008


Since I wrote last, I have hit a wall so hard and so high I can hardly breathe from the impact. It was almost exactly 5 years ago that I found myself in this very similar situation and it hurts so bad to be back I wish for the sweet release of death. No I am not suicidal. My heart is just turning to stone. Blackness is covering my soul and my being is so filled with rage and hate that I can. not. see. straight.

My mother was always very clear that she loved me but she was also very clear that she despised all that I was. I do not know what it feels like to be mothered, to be safe, to feel cared for, to not be a burden and a disappointment. My mother in law showed me to an extent. It was way cool. But she has a granddaughter that she has raised off and on that will always have priority over me. I do not hold that against anybody. It is what it is.

My mother does not even live next door yet but her poison and venom towards me has me so sin sick I feel like I would rather eternal damnation and forever separation from a God I have loved for the past 10 years over doing His Word.

I continue to read The Word and feel the powerful Truth bouncing off of me and leaving me prayerless as I realize I am not willing to Love Him enough to do what it asks of me. I can not love my enemy. I can not pray for those who curse me. I can not bless those who hurt me. I can not turn the other cheek or forgive 70 times 7.

I understand I do not deserve to be hurt like I have but how can I say I love God and believe in the Cross when I use free will to refuse It's Power? I have heard stories and testimonies of others who have been abused much more than me and they overcame the power of sin and death in their lives. Even if they still fight it, they do not consider eternity in hell as an option over forgiveness and love.

If I were only fighting my feelings this would not be so hard. I believe God's Truth trumps my feelings and emotions. It is my actions that are the problem. I chose to say vile hateful things to the woman who gave birth to me and have no remorse for it later. I even want to do it again and hurt her more. I want her to suffer and feel pain that came from me. 10 years of trying to follow my Lord and this is where I am. Hopeless, heartless and hurting. Unable or unwilling to prove my love to my Jesus by obeying Him. Where the hell am I supposed to go from here? Where the hell. Exactly.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Home Part 2

I called Mr. Florida, broke it off and told him I was not coming back. I had the temp job but needed to make a living so I tried waiting tables. If you have gotten any idea of my personality through reading me, you will understand I did not do well at that job. I could not make my bills and support my habits that way.

While still in the Army, I had began moonlighting as a stripper (again, a bit of that in My Testimony) and since waiting tables did not work out, it made sense to slip back into that situation. That job also made it easier to self medicate. It is an atmosphere that combines the sex trade with mind altering substances and illusions of control and adrenaline producing power. Oddly enough, it was my waitress job that offered drugs first. I had no reason to say no at this point in my life when alcohol was no longer enough to get me through to tomorrow.

My Gram was in a nursing home and while her house was barely standing with no heat or a/c and only half the outlets working sometimes, I stayed in her house to have some privacy but still be on the family property to help take care of things at home. I was not home much anyway and when I was it was usually to sleep off a high.

One night after the strip club shut down, another dancer and I went out looking for some X. She spotted a guy she had dated that dealt in coke but may be able to hook us up. He got us what we wanted and then began pursuing what he wanted. He started coming to the club I worked at and we started talking. I was not interested in a relationship and he said he was not either but we seemed to be drawn to each other regardless.

Within 3 months of meeting I was pregnant. I offered him an out. No strings. He wanted in and we both wanted to clean up. The baby was our reason. We could not afford his place for a lot of reasons and after much debate borrowed money from my mother to buy a trailer and set it up on her land. She had gotten a settlement from my brother's death otherwise she never would have been able to help us. I was raw and feeling maternal and thought it would be great to have my mother there for me.

She informed me she could not be because the baby was half black. But we had our start of a family and a home and my dreams were coming true in the most warped of ways. Fast forward to 5 years later and I am pregnant for the 4th time. Married now,we had paid back what we had borrowed with interest that was beyond any monetary value, not in love with living by my mother anymore but living a life with Jesus, I know it is going to be ok.

Then hell broke open. My mother split with her husband for the 5th time in 4 years and was living alone in her 4100 square foot 25 year old falling apart house. She offered it to us. I was not willing to pay her prices again. I had learned that my first pregnancy had stirred some feelings in me that made me face the realities that I did not have the mother/daughter relationship that Hallmark profits from. I begged my husband to turn down the offer but he refused saying he would make it worth it to me. He did. But we both, along with our children paid a price higher than we ever imagined.

Regardless of the difficulties that came with acquiring the house I grew up in, my love and I settled in to raise our daughters. I delivered our 4th daughter less than 3 months after we moved in and I lived each day in awe of all the beauty God created from my ashes.

A year and a half after I moved back into the very home I had run away from about 12 years earlier, hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans, Louisiana. Because we were in such a large home so far from where the storm made landfall, we were able to offer a place to stay for all my love's family who lived in NOLA. Right after Katrina, Rita hit where my sister and her love lived. She brought friends here to stay also. It was hard. We had 13 people move in with us. I had a 1, 3 & 5 year old. I had a part time job with our church. My love worked hurricane hours. But being able to offer his family, my family, our family a place to be safe made it all worth it. I knew God had called me home for this. Besides all the healing I had faced just coming back on my own, I could offer something to others I loved as well.

We had people staying with us right about 3 months before everyone began to start their lives over in various places. The next year, the other side of my family needed me. My Nanny who is my mom's sister and had lived next door all my life got cancer. She needed me, her kids needed me, her husband needed me. I was able to be there because I lived right next door. Ned died. I blogged about it a bit. I am thankful to have been here for her and her family through something so difficult for them. That was 2 years ago.

Now my mother needs a place to live. She is a bit toxic but my mother none the less. She is not happy about the terms we are asking her to live under but I can not help but believe I live here for a reason. I live where I never wanted to for God's will to be done. I have no doubt it will be difficult. It already has been. But I trust God today. Unlike 16 or so years ago when I chose crack heads and no hot water (did I mention the trailer I lived in had no hot water, ever?) over this very house. Unlike when I had no hope and no plans for a future. Unlike when I did not live loved by my Savior. I will live where I never said I would again because I know that this is not my permanent home. My True Home is being built. That's what I'm talkin bout baby.

Saturday, November 08, 2008


I joined the Army the day after I turned 18 for a reason. I tried to join at 17 but needed BOTH parents to sign even if they were not involved. No exception unless they were dead. Unfortunately for me, they both were alive and kicking.

I moved out of my mother's at 17 into a healthier although not ideal environment. I lived in a piece of shit trailer with 3 30 something crack heads. Pun intended. It was the first time I saw grown adults crawling on the ground eating whatever was on the floor in case it happened to be a rock. That enforced my desire to say no to drugs which I held to until my resolve was broken by death. Read that story in My Testimony. Somewhere around January 08. No idea how to link.

I resolved to leave the small town in Southern Louisiana as soon as I could and vowed never to return. I knew by the time I was 18 that my drinking was out of control so collage would be a waste of money and possibly the death of me. I was interested in Law Enforcement and was told military experience helped that career. That was where I got the idea of a free ticket out of town.

I left less than a month after graduating high school for Alabama. I made it through Basic Training and began my specialty schooling to be a Military Police officer. I had my ideas for what I thought I wanted to do and I made these cute little plans in my head. Not really knowing how things usually went down, I was hit pretty hard with my orders for my first duty station.

Almost everyone got sent overseas. A few did not but were going to highly deployable units which meant they may be based in the States but got sent overseas where ever there was action. It was Saudi at the time. There was a single mother of 2 and a married guy with 3 kids that got nice little assignments but when it came down to it, we either were going to Saudi, Germany for a 3 year term or the one I got; Korea for a year. I was devastated at the time, not having a clue how good I had it.

Korea is a whole other story.

From Korea, I got a cush assignment in Georgia. I was in a relationship with someone higher in rank that knew the ropes and pulled some strings for me. I loved Georgia. I was there a while too. Maybe over 3 years. I considered staying there after I got out. But by then I was in a different relationship with a guy from Florida and the beaches were calling out to me. So when I got out of the Army, I headed to Florida to try to find a life there.

As I type I hear the Casting Crowns song playing in my head because I lived it. The one called Does Anybody Hear Her
She is running a hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction
She is trying but the canyon's ever widening in the depths of her cold heart
So she sets out on another misadventure just to find
She's another two years older and she's three more steps behind
Does anybody hear her? Can anybody see?Or does anybody even knows she's going down today
Under the shadow of our steeple with all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that's tucked away in you and me
Does anybody hear her? Can anybody see?

She is yearning for shelter and affection
That she never found at home
She is searching for a hero to ride in
To ride in and save the day
And in walks her prince charming and he knows just what to say
Momentary lapse of reason and she gives herself away
If judgement looms under every steeple
If lofty glances from lofty people can't see past her scarlet letter
And we never even met her

While there was a time in my life I counted the cost of following Christ too much, I must be growing up because now the thought appals me.

So I am in Florida staying my with boyfriend's sister, knowing things will not work, yet embracing denial until it pries this newest dream out of my cold stiff fingers. I am now the ripe old age of 22 and feel old and worn out. I was dying.

This was mid-May and I found out come June, my brother was going home from collage and my sister would have the summer off from high school and I had this desire, this urge to go home and see my family. The family I ran from. The family that found a way to continue to suck me dry from across the world. I loved my siblings and knew I had abandoned them so Guilt was ingrained in me. It was me. So I went home to Louisiana for a 'visit'.

I actually enjoyed being with my siblings so much I wound up staying more than a few days. It was the first time in over 4 years we were all home at the same time. I will never thank God enough for those days because they were Joy. They were Peace. They were healing.

I had been home about 2 weeks and was at a temp job I had taken with my sister. A neighbor was opening a store and asked us to be on the opening crew. We painted, cleaned and trained the new employees. I answered the phone on June 13th and was told my brother had been in an accident and I needed to come to the hospital. I refused to let my little sister come with me and made her stay at work because I did not want her to see my brother if he looked bad.

I remember every detail of that drive to the hospital.

I arrived and told the info desk worker about my phone call. I was ushered into a tiny room that was packed with my family members. I do not remember who told me or what they said but he was dead. I screamed NO a few times then decided I needed to pull myself together for what had to be done. I said 'where is he? Where is the one who killed him?'. I was told the other driver was dead also and later found out that was not true at the time but was was soon. Good. So I did not have to kill him myself.

I realized I would need to stay in Louisiana to take care of my family once again. I cried only in the shower and slipped back into the role of caretaker like I had never left.

Friday, October 31, 2008


As a person who emotes almost solely in anger, I am learning to look past the surface when I get angry to see what the true issue involves. I just have so little time that surface cleaning has become a wasted effort. I almost need to go straight to soaking my heart in bleach. Or Jesus. Depending how mature I am acting on a given day.

One of my daughters is a Tinkerbell fan. I actually like the little wench myself. While goodness usually triumphs in fairy tales, Tink is not sweet and kind and is actually much more realistic than most characters. There is a new movie out about Tinkerbell and in it she is given a voice for the first time since she was introduced in 1953 in the Peter Pan movie. That made me mad. It was all I thought about during the entire movie. While my daughters are pointing out the facts of the movie that are unbiblical, I am pissed she has a voice in this movie. I realized I felt the same way when Blue from Blue's Clues was given a voice. I also remembered when I was in Korea, a girlfriend and a Korean woman convinced me I needed to get my eyebrows done.

At the time I sported a unibrow and never thought much of it. It was what it was and I do not think the skinny brow was a thing yet in the states anyway. I was so stinkin mad after my eyebrows were waxed! It looked so different I actually had people comment on it. What is different they would ask. Shut the eff up! I would yell at them and turn away. I hated it for one reason. It was different. A change.

Today I keep my brows groomed and while do not go for the super skinny brow, I feel uncomfortable when I need to let them grow out a bit before I go in for a professional appointment. Just so ya know.

I think I am mad about the movie because it is a change. Why is change so hard? Even change from a bad to a good situation is hard. I had been in many relationships that had ended and while it was always hard, the one I had the most trouble with was the one I wanted out of most. I found a way out of an abusive relationship that lasted about 3 years and even though I had wanted out for a long time, I had the hardest time letting that one go. I was appalled at my reaction and knew I not only needed out but wanted out but I had trouble functioning outside of the relationship for a long time. It baffled me to react that way and I can only think it was so hard because it was such a big change.

I love what Jon from Stuff Christians Like wrote recently about our comfort zones in post #429. Our definition of comfort is so different than God's it is truly an injustice to allow us to play the Almighty and create our own comfort zones. I want to change. I need God to change me otherwise I will not have the same attitude as Christ (Phil 2:5).

I heard a teaching on inner core pain once that said the bad has to come out in order to have room for the Love and Good that is God to go in. Maybe when I feel the anger rise up in me over a change, I can let it come all the way up and out and let it leave me so I can have room for God to equip me with the change He wants to bring to me.

I feel some changes coming in my life and I can not just allow the anger to consume me this time. I want to embrace the adventure God has called me to and trust Him to be my Comfort through whatever comes. It will not be easy but maybe it is time to drop anger as my protection and defence and accept the change that God has in mind for me. Skeery.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

5 years later in the shack

Since I am not generally a fan of Christians, I do not often jump on the bandwagons than seem to ride unchecked through Christianland, so when The Shack was the latest book 'ya gotta read!!', I was like, NAA.

But I have this friend, see, that somehow can talk me into stuff I am not into on my own. She talked me into a facebook account of all things! And she talked me into reading The Shack once she started reading it. I can understand why more than she realizes. It is an emotionally traumatic read that will strip you raw and then dump some salt on you.

By page 2 I was naked and shaking at the relatableness of the story. A parent who had a horrible childhood loves his kids but now lives with grief. The word imagery is an incredible description of life with grief and I find myself on my knees at the relief that someone, ANYone can understand my guts. My friend wanted someone to understand what she carried from reading this book and I get that so much. There are things I carry, we all carry, that we want someone to understand but that is not always an option.

As a human, I think it is a natural (albeit fleshy) desire to want to be understood by another human. God is my Creator, of course He understands and while that can be enough, at times, it is not. Right or wrong, it is hard to live with thousands who do not get you. Is it good and beneficial to not be understood, but I am just talking about basic carnal wants.

So the words I need to use up today are about another area of me I have never been able to share adequately. Ironically, it happened almost exactly 5 years ago.

My girls were 7months, 2 & 4. The baby and I had gone to WalMart to do the weekly shopping and my husband was 'babysitting'. Reluctantly. I had been a Christian just about 4 years and my love was still wrestling with the concept. Life was not easy then and I was still in a lot of pieces from an extremely traumatic year during the pregnancy with my youngest. I had bounced a lot the previous year between thinking it was too hard and cost too much to love Christ and knowing deep that my Savior was the only lifeline worth even reaching for.

My love faced his own demons daily and I am ashamed to say, I was not exactly fighting on his team all the time. I was on my way home when my phone rang. It was him telling me he could not find Emery. I screamed into the phone something like do not call me and say that. Do not say that to me. If you mean it you call 911. Then I hung up on him.

By the time I got home, he was outside running around and I left the car full of groceries at the end of the drive where it would sit for the next 2 days. The cops arrived soon after I did followed by fire, friends, family, neighbors and lots of emergency responders.

Nothing made sense. We had an alarm system installed recently when death threats were made against me and the girls and she was 2. Mem was not the type to wander off and Kenneth had been playing video games in the front room. Add in his extreme paranoia and someone sneaking into the house made no logical sense. Nonetheless, I slipped into crazy irrational mode.

I avoided my husband and he avoided me. I avoided the kitchen where there were knives. I was afraid if he looked me in the eyes and I could get a hold of a knife, I would try to hurt him. I had a baby on my hip that wanted to nurse and was tired and reacting to my emotions and a 4 year old by the hand that kept asking what if we never find her sister.

I remember a police officer telling me to start looking in the house for her and I began looking where ever he was looking. He shooed me out the room he was in and I just wandered around my house praying and cursing God. At times when the 4 year old would say what if we never find her I would scream at her 'do not say that because in Jesus' Name, we WILL find her' thinking He owes me that. After all I had been through, after all I had been through because of Him, how DARE He take another of my daughters.

I shudder now at my lack of fear and I shudder at His Love and grace for me for allowing me to spew my venom all over Him.

She was found an hour and four minutes after I was told by my husband he could not find her. In those 64 minutes my mind took me down many road full of horrific possibilities. I was sick that ANYone who did not love her would even touch her soft brown skin and disgusted at the idea that she may have called out for me or her daddy and felt let down. I remembered the death threats and the books I had read, movies I had seen and news stories I had watched.

I remembered thinking not her, not this one and being horrified that I even considered the thought that it would have been better to be one of the other 2 girls.

I got put on daily anti anxiety meds not long after this because some of the places my mind went were too evil to deal with while attempting to function outside of padded walls.

When she was found asleep in my bed wrapped in 3 king sized comforters, I fell to my knees. Someone grabbed the baby from my arms and the 4 year old from my side as I gave in to full blown hysteria.

I remember going into the fetal position and violently releasing everything that had held me together the last hour, maybe the last 20 years. I have no idea how long they let me go on but eventually an officer told me to pull myself together. He said 'mom you need to get up and get yourself together, you have 3 little girls who need you to take care of them'.

So I did. I dried it up, inside and out, sat up with my legs out in front of me and all 3 girls were given to me as I sat there. I did not speak and I did not move for at least a couple of hours. Kenneth was told outside and people started to clear out slowly.

I was so weak and drained I could not speak or get up but I remember some emergency responder who was a woman telling me she understood how I felt. If I had the strength, I wanted to get up and beat the crap out of her then drag her to the cemetery where my daughter was buried and slam her face in the dirt covering all that was left of my baby and ask her if she still understood me. I never even lifted my head to see her face above me. If I knew what she looked like and I saw her again, I would hate her.

Hear me when I say I am just barely scratching the surface. I remember not speaking for a day or two until everything was tucked away nice and tight on the inside as I righted my house that had been torn apart during the search. As I put things away on the outside (every cabinet and closet had been emptied) I stuffed things away on the inside too. I had little to say and just as uncharacteristically my husband had so much to say.

He does not read so I can not ask him to read The Shack after I do but I wonder if his internal closet would explode and spill it's overstuffed content at the trigger of this book.

5 years later I have grown a lot and I still have the safety net of my medication. My relationship with my husband and more importantly our God has grown and matured.

I kept looking at my Mem with her narrow beautiful features and the huge gap from her 2 missing teeth that is my favorite and remembering that for one hour and four minutes I questioned if I would ever have today. I thank God over and over that I do. And I break for those who do not.

I may need more than a weekend at my shack with my Papa. At least now, 5 years later, I trust Him enough to allow Him to help me clean out my closets.

Friday, October 10, 2008

a broken book

I have been reading Jeremiah for about a week now and I have the same reaction I often do to God's chosen people.
What a bunch of sorry losers!

I mean really yall. You got to walk through the parted red sea, you have prophets to tell you what to do and not do. The terms seem easy to understand; follow God and be blessed or don't and die.

I know. Why I have not been struck by lightening is beyond me.
I guess I just can not get away from conflict and confrontation.

I have been praying for increased conviction and to let go of control and to trust God. Ballsy, I know. I am what I am.

The problem is, I am being called out. As I read Jer. 16:10-13, I wondered if God ever thought that about me?

16:10 "When you tell the people all these things, they will ask, 'Why has the LORD decreed such terrible things against us? What have we done to deserve such treatment? What is our sin against the LORD our God?'
Tell them that this is the LORD's reply: It is because your ancestors were unfaithful to me. They worshiped other gods and served them. They abandoned me. They did not keep my law.
And you are even worse than your ancestors! You stubbornly follow your own evil desires and refuse to listen to me.
So I will throw you out of this land and send you into a foreign land where you and your ancestors have never been. There you can worship idols all you like – and I will grant you no favors!

I have all 66 books of the bible to guide me but I still am blind in so many ways.
One example? Well, instead of asking God to give me a healthy relationship with my parents, I try to just get by with niceties and hope they die sooner than later. Sad, but true.

I think God is asking me to love my mother and maybe even become a little vulnerable with her and I would almost rather be taken into captivity by Babylon.

If I do not yield to and obey the Holy Spirit's leading in my life, my soul can not be conformed to the image of Christ which will keep me from carrying out His purposes.
I may as well just set up a statue of buddha.

I know me loving and possibly supporting my mother will not go over well with those who love me and know the risks but the Word also says in Jer. 15:19 that I am to influence them and not let them influence me. Or the Holy Spirit in me anyway.

Sometimes I wish I had a prophet that would come over and scream at me and tell me what to do. That is just how I like to roll.

Saturday, October 04, 2008

Arm Pit Hair

My oldest will turn 9 this month. Her little breast have started budding and this week we found arm pit hair. Mercy.

I was 9 when I got my period. (sorry men.)
You hear so often how fast your children grow up but sometimes it is hard to see the forest through the trees. 9 is pretty much a half way mark. 9 years down and I have 9 left to parent my daughter and equip her for life and the world.

Have I done enough? She is a great kid but she does not read her bible daily or want to be a missionary in a foreign country. Not having any kind of parental example to follow and becoming a Christian later in my life I am unsure about so much.

I easily get overwhelmed by the complexity of the Christian subculture I live in. I have so much to work on myself and so much to pray about between all the people I know about that need prayer, it can consume me to the point of not serving. I can serve so much and so hard I get sucked dry and to the detriment of my spiritual health.

Here is where I hold on to; Love. 1 Corinthians 13:13 says the greatest is Love. I know Christ loves me no matter what I have done, am doing or will do. I feel the same for my girls. I may not deal the right way with arm pit hair but I will love the crap outta my girls. That has to count for something. That must count for a lot. I know My Father's Love for me is enough.

So I bought her pink shaving cream and pink razors and helped her shave her pits. I also reminded her this was a sign of her growing up and we talked again about what is to come. She asked for some books to read on getting her period so I went to the library and got her some.

I never thought arm pit hair could be so provoking for me. Who knew?

Saturday, September 27, 2008

The Freedom I long for

If this year ends and I am not living freer than I was at the beginning of the year, I think that is a problem. I have no good excuse to stay in bondage when I have been given the Truth that will set me free.

I have started sleeping with my house temp. set at 77 which is NOT an even number or a multiple of 5. I have let go of that control. I also do not even look at the digital dial as I lower or raise the volumn on my radio. I just turn until it sounds good. More freedom.

While I am a firm believer that you never can know how you will react in a situation you have never been in before, after my Pastor raised the question 'what would you do if you knew Jesus would be coming to your house in one hour?', I felt my answer was pretty free. I would need to clear some places for people to sit, I would chill some wine and I would invite over people who need some Freedom Jesus as much as me. I would not want to lock up my kids or clean house or cook or change my clothes. I am ok with who I am and while I know I need improvements, I feel free to be who I was made to be without apology.

I was praying on the toilet this morning (my children have a rule to not ask me a thing while I am on the toilet so I throw up popcorn prayers there) and I prayed how I talk. I cussed in prayer. Not like 'Come the F on, Jesus, bless the sh!t outta me, Man!' but real me. The free me. The slightly angry, defensive, lover of my Savior, tryin my best me.

I was tempted recently to follow a posting trend to come clean about my faults and shortcomings but I just did not think that was the direction I needed. There is value in confessing your sins 'one to another' but I would just rather focus on where my freedom takes me today and where I want to try and go tomorrow.

Tomorrow I want to be able to listen to some slamin older favorite music and not flash back to swinging naked around a pole for money. Tomorrow I want to be free to forgive my loved ones that hurt me daily every. single. time. Tomorrow I want to take down another layer of defence and not want to fight for a change. Tomorrow I want to rest & be still and not keep looking over my shoulder. Tomorrow I want to be freer than I am today, no matter what it costs.

Thats what Im talkin about, baby.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Mark 7:24-30

Mark 7:24
Then Jesus left Galilee and went north to the region of Tyre. He tried to keep it secret that he was there, but he couldn't. As usual, the news of his arrival spread fast.
Right away a woman came to him whose little girl was possessed by an evil spirit. She had heard about Jesus, and now she came and fell at his feet.
She begged him to release her child from the demon's control.Since she was a Gentile, born in Syrian Phoenicia,
Jesus told her, "First I should help my own family, the Jews. It isn't right to take food from the children and throw it to the dogs."
She replied, "That's true, Lord, but even the dogs under the table are given some crumbs from the children's plates."
"Good answer!" he said. "And because you have answered so well, I have healed your daughter."
And when she arrived home, her little girl was lying quietly in bed, and the demon was gone.

I enjoyed church today. The set up was Pastor asking if we were told Jesus would be coming over to our home in about an hour, what would we do. I think I would put a bottle of wine to chill. I would not really worry about cleaning up because that would be hypocritical and He is Jesus. It is not like He does not know how my house often looks. I would clear some places for Him to sit and wipe down the table in case we sat there. No reason to get syrup all over Jesus.
I may also make beer bread. Because it is so fast and easy and it is fresh, hot bread.

So back to the verses in Mark. The woman was not only a Gentile and a woman, but was of mixed races, which made her even more undesirable. You gotta love a mom that risks going to a distant land that does not welcome her. Then Jesus calls her a (female) dog. *giggle*

It was shocking what Jesus said to her He but He wanted to see if she was for real. She was quick and persistent. She did not care what Jesus called her as long as her daughter got help. If she had gotten offended, she would have been no use to her daughter.

See, that's the kind of mom I want to be. No matter what names I get called, no matter if I am not accepted, no matter if I am not 1st choice, I never want my feelings to control my destiny. I do not want to get offended about something that is temporal and lose a miracle for anyone in my family.

I just thought it was a cool picture of a mom that I could relate to and a great lesson to remember.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

The Good, the Bad...and the Bitchy?!?

My oldest has a birthday coming up and we are planning a cupcake party. We will decorate cupcakes, play pin the cherry on the cupcake and have a cupcake eating contest.

She requested a cupcake t-shirt and we went on line and found some AWESOME ones that were a million dollars (that means 20ish in my world) and some $8 ones at Target. It said on the website they had them in the store so I went to Target.

While I did not find the t-shirts at all, (here comes the GOOD!) I found CUPCAKE bath & body products for .25 each! They have body wash, glitter lotion, lipgloss, bath salts, etc. It was perfect!!!

Here comes the bad, altogether I spent $65 on clearance items.

ANNND, the bitchy. I am in the check out line and look down at about where my 2 little ones would be eye level and there is a magizine that says 'How to be just bitchy enough'. Look right on the cover girl's left boob. Yep. Thanks Target.

Maybe I can blame them for the fact that my youngest is out playing in the rain singing 'Its raaaiiiining, its whooooorrrrring'.

Thats what Im talkin bout, bitches!

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Im Blue/Abba dee abba dii abba dee abba diiii

So my mom's yorkie had 4 pups and she moved and could not take the parent and 4 pups to her new place so my newly widowed uncle next door took them but during the hurricane I realized he can still hardly take care of himself so I took the 2 pups that were not sold when they weaned off the tit.

Today we found the little girl's mouth was blue. No. Idea.

I married a dog lover.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Romans 8:1

I became a Christian while pregnant with the daughter that will turn 9 next month. I was about 25 I guess. Those 25 years before were chock a block full of some dirty, nasty, freaky sin. I even went through a phase where I purposely tried to rebel & sin against God. So when I became a Christian I had to accept some heavy grace. I had to set my mind on the Truth that Jesus loves me despite what I have done and He has made me so fresh and so clean and now I am a new person all together. No matter what happens, I will never deny that Christ loved me enough to take on every one of my sins and pay the full price for them until death. I have that Truth in a death grip that whitens my spiritual knuckles because I need that to survive.

Because I can hold on to that Truth, I find it easy to tell people who are battling guilt that there is no condemnation for those of us in Christ. I figure, He can forgive me, He can forgive you and us wallowing in that muck will do nothing but keep us from doing His will. Looking back keeps us from moving forward so leave that shit behind and let's GO!

So why am I now camped out in condemnation? The title of this post links to some pics of the aftermath of Ike. Galveston Island is where my love and I 'honeymooned' back in '99. I was pregnant with the oldest (NOT the first, we married between the 2).

There is a couple at our church campus my love and I like and they just got power back this weekend. Almost 2 effing weeks without power!!! There are people around here (my neighbor included-posted a pic of his house in an earlier post) that sustained serious damage! Our insurance company finally made it out yesterday and chances are, our damage costs will not exceed our deductible which means out of pocket because it is so minor. Then I look at what Ike did to Galveston and I want to cry.

I want to cry and I am so pissed I was such a baby about my 5 or 6 days without power! I think Katrina and Rita was easier for me because of how much my family sacrificed. We moved 10 people in from Katrina and 3 more for Rita, most of which were here almost 3 months. My girls were 1, 3 & 5 and we gave up their bedrooms and all 5 of us stayed in my room. It was hard. I also was able to reach out to other families affected and even offered childcare, friendship and practical support to some strangers that evacuated here and knew no one. I loved on people at church and prayed for people. Basically I did some works that alleviated my guilt for not losing anything other that some privacy at home.

I do recognize my reaction to our loss of power and water was probably so strong because I felt so out of control. I am really starting to see how much I try and control and how directly related my emotional well being is connected to it. I think I need to go back and face a little more of the abuse I experienced and maybe I can learn to trust God a little more. I want to learn how to let Him be in control and let go of it myself.

Can I just say I totally do not get that whole 'let go and let God' saying. What the hell does that mean? How in the world do I do that? When people say that I just get angry because I can not process that. Show me. Tell me in a step by step process. Lay it at the cross. That's another one. The hell? What?!? I do not GET THAT! Where is the translation for people like me? Seriously. You may as well tell me it smells like the color nine.

So if you read this, please pray for those affected by Gustav and Ike. And pray for me to let go and let God. That's what Im talkin bout.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

You know you are from Louisiana when...

you wear high heeled crocs! Yes. I know. But it makes sense now. See, when they first came out I remember thinking NEVEERRRR!

They were ugly, more than I like to pay for shoes and they were ugly. I heard they were comfortable but as much as I love comfort, they are ugly.

So then I realized that young children can put them on by themselves and if they accidentally tee tee on them selves, you can just rinse the shoes off!

Brilliant! All my girls got a knock off pair.

They were everywhere! Women wore them to church even! Now, usually they were the ones with the sparkly diamondy things in the holes so they were 'dressy'.

My aunt that lived next door wore them and when she passed away, I inherited my first pair. I loved her a lot and wore them often around the house. They were perfect for walking the girls to and from the bus, putting the trash out, burning trash, cutting grass. LOTS of things! They slipped on and off easy. You can wear them with or without socks and when they get wet or dirty it was no big deal! And they were comfortable.

Still, I never left the house with them on, well, not on purpose anyway.

Then we went on vacation with my sister and her husband and she had croc flip flops. They were not that cute (not ugly really but not that cute) but WOW they were the most comfortable flip flops I ever wore PLUS they can get wet and clean up so easy!

Still, for the money, they had to be something I would want to wear out the house which they were not. Until now!

I found these cuties and they are so berry comfortable and I can wear them outside without worrying about the weather or where I am walking. I can even walk the acre and a half gravel driveway toting the trash cans in them. Perfect for southern Louisiana!

That's what I'm talkin bout baby!
ps..that is my love's feet in the first pic with mine and yes, he is wearing 2 different flip flops. He could not find their matches. Next I am buying the Lenas for my winter pair.

Sunday, September 07, 2008

Better is one day in His Courts

I was able to go to church today. I was not sure how that would be because my church has been serving the community and being the hands and feet of Jesus like crazy and I could hardly take care of myself.

Only a few cords into the first worship song and my world was made right. As soon as I turned my face towards my God, the grime and guilt for not being impossibly perfect washed away as easily as the dirt and sweat did during my first shower after 3 days with no water and power.

So many people that I looked at as powerhouses for God said some of the same things I did. A friend even confessed in a hushed tone that she only made it through each night because she was taking Zanex and was concerned she was addicted.

I laugh at her addicted and told her I drank at night hoping to usher in sleep and when that did not work, I chased the alcohol in my bloodstream with strong coffee until the 2 drugs mixed and countered and fought against each other until I added more of one or the other in a crazy dance that had no real rythem.

Everywhere I went, the conversations revolved around one fact; power. Do you have power? When did you get power? Who do you know that has power? I go to a megachurch and during service we were asked to raise our hands if we had power back. Only about 40% of us did. Then those who did not have power were asked to raise their hands and to look around the massive sea of hands raised was almost like getting hit in the stomach. This would be day 7 for them. My mother and brother are included in this group.

I alternate between walking around without turning on the lights because after the first 2 days when you keep flipping switches and getting nothing you learn to stop, and turning on anything and everything whether I need it or not.

Here I was trying to go green and most of the time now, that is all out the window. I turned on 4 lights to make my coffee this morning. Absolutly no need but it is almost like I am trying to make up for the light I missed out on. I turned the a/c lower than I normally have it on and I tried to make brownies on the stove (damn you Pancake Puffer!!!) and told my daughters I could not do it because the heat was making me angry. Then I put them in the oven and forgot to set the timer and burned the crap outta them. So sad. Burned brownies is sad.

I saw a friend who is a counsiler and asked when the PT SD support group was and she was like, yeah, we all need that! At least I am not alone in my crazy. I know I was up close and personal with Katrina but I did not loose everything I owned. Good thing because this experience may very well have been harder for me. I am starting to feel a little back on track though and at least now I remember that better is one day in God's court than a thousand elsewhere.

Thursday, September 04, 2008


small tree down across my driveway
lots of work for my pool boy
this is what it looks like under a tree
Tree on and through neighbor's home. They had evacuated.

Pecan tree uprooted in my front yard.
Tree snapped in my back yard. I walked out my back door almost into the tree

The pictures do not come close to capturing the power...
I went out during the height of the storm and the wind was moving me where it wanted me. It was insane.

The View 3 Hours from Home

Perspective. I must like the word. I use it often. I feel it is educational to see things from another view. I teeter between the prideful/humble thought that my perspective is not possibly the only way or the right way.

I recently began fasting on Mondays for the orphans everywhere and as my flesh curses my will, I remind myself my slight hunger pains in perspective to what some African orphans feel must be a joke.

I lasted 3 days at home with no power and water before I left. 3 days, only 2 nights, and still I fought panic attacks, pity parties, whining, complaining, not to mention I got drunk.

I drove 3 hours to my sister's home and am so pissed at how the people here are acting. I know Rita got Lake Charles good. I see the PT SD rage through people around New Orleans at the mention of a serious hurricane. I had Rita victims move into my home so I am sure that is here too. I am just frustrated that everywhere I go in this town people talk about how bad they have it. Limited menu at McDonald's, delayed delivery trucks at grocery stores, the inconvenience of having to evacuate for the day the storm hit. They have power! They have water! And supplies and gas!

At home people lined the shoulders of the roads for MILES to wait H.O.U.R.S. to be allowed to fill gas cans only. Not you tank to your vehicle but the small portable gas cans. Friends and family that are not getting paid as they sit home with no power can not keep filling their generator with gas when no paycheck is coming in even though we are being told it will take weeks to get power back.

Then I realize what I ran from is better than the best days some of the children I pray for have. My heart breaks as I think of mothers trying to offer their babies comfort as I tried to offer mine in the heat and in the dark. My heart breaks that my weaknesses and sin surfaced so fast in the slight trial we are facing. My heart breaks that only now as I sit clean and in a house with A/C in front of a computer drinking my gas station coffee that I get the idea to look up. To look up to where my Help comes from and see a different perspective.

I am still tired, physically and emotionally. I feel like once I get a little more sleep, a little more coffee, a little more of my meds and spend a little more time with Jesus reminding me He will forgive me for being such an ass and He loves me anyway, I will be ok. I mean I am ok. I am better than ok. I can just be better. I can change my perspective.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Leandre, Lord

Today my love and I attended an adoption workshop our church put on. My husband was still saying 10 years but I just prayed for both of our hearts to be wide open to whatever He had to say to us.

I will be honest. I did not really feel we belonged to this group. Not that I felt we were out of place exactly, but our hearts were going in a slightly different direction. I mean, we have had a family and did not have a desire left unfilled like some couples facing infertility and such. We got pregnant 4 times in 5 years and have done the newborn thing and while we would do it again in a heartbeat if a child fell into our laps, I just did not feel our desires were quite like those of the other families there.

Kenneth and I are both more interested in the foster care system and that was not touched on as much as I hoped it would be. I was very glad to be there and felt Kenneth was too even though we had circumstances that could have made it difficult. My love is not one that can be dragged along to pursue a passion of mine without silently protesting louder that a two year old's temper tantrum. He seemed to want to be there as much as I did. It was time well spent together but as we gathered our things to leave, I had no new direction to take my prayers.

There was a display in the back of all these profiles of kids in the foster system that needed homes and I have no good reason for not going look. The display had recently been featured at church and I missed it then also. It was information I had hoped for but never went after so when it was time to go, I said 'wait, let me go look at the profiles first'.

My love had already looked and said so. I said well now I need to. He said see if you can figure out which one I want. I said if I do, can we have that child? He said SURE because there were so many to choose from the odds were STACKED in his favor. You know where this is going. I picked the exact child he did.

His name is Leandre and he is 6 years old. He loves Cheetos and hopes to have a puppy one day. I have no idea what this means. If nothing else, that child will be prayed for like he is mine.

Now my love who said 10 years this morning said if the youngest was 8, he would take him in a second. That is in 4 years. 6 years sooner that his original plan. He also said a few other things that got my heart racing.

Now as I prep my home and family for the hurricane, I wonder where Leandre is. I wonder if storms scare him and if he has been hugged today. I wonder who will tuck him in tonight and if he will wake tomorrow smiling.

I took a profile of his and there is a number on there to call but I do not think I can yet. Until my love tells me to bring him home, I can not do more than pray. There are too many children that will not be hugged today or tucked in tonight or wake up smiling and my heart can not handle that. So for now I pray for Leandre. And all I can say is Leandre, Lord. Leandre, Lord. Leandre, Lord.

Again, I do not know what this means but I do not believe in coincidences and all my spirit says over and over is Leandre, Lord! That is my new direction. Leandre, Lord.

Monday, August 25, 2008

It's Just Another Manic Monday

Recently my pastor featured a couple at church and the wife has a http://www.thewardrobeandthewhitetree.com/ blog.

I decided a couple years ago to face some sexual traumas from my past and I began blogging my way through that insanity. I had all this crap to get out but did not want to share my ugliest demons with anyone I had to look into the eyes so I blogged and assumed no one read. I assumed that because I had never found a personal blog I would like to read. Once I posted a comment on our church blog and a good friend of mine informed my dumbass that a comment would link directly to my blog. ERASE!! Eventually I started a less XXX-rated blog and was emailed a link to Stuff Christians Likestuffchristianslike.blogspot.com. I wish I knew how to make the words be a link but as noted earlier, dumbass on the keyboard. I would respond and a few people checked me out and thus begins my blog addiction.

I am now interested in reading other blogs so when my pastor mentions this woman has one, I looked her up. She is cool but I do not want to respond to her blog because she was featured by my church. I am not as much of a dumbass as I was in all things blog so I just figured her blog is getting lots of church attention right now and I am attempting to NOT be center of attention in my church because that does not often turn out how I expect and is often a painful lesson in humility.

So this featured woman links to another blog and this is where my point (and title link) come in!! *WOW, I can spiderweb!! It is a gift.*
I go to this other blog and she is talking about fasting on Mondays for the orphans. I am so in!!
Here is why, one thing I want to do this school year is fast more often and more regularly. Also I need to lose 10 pounds because my clothes do not fit and I like pants with buttons on them.

Also, for whatever reason, orphans have been on my heart a lot. In this way;
  • I came up with a God sized dream that was about helping orphans
  • my church called me and interviewed me about my dream (WT...! Of course I spiderwebbed the hell outa my dream and the lady was done with me and I had never gotten back to my original point so not sure how that will turn out)
  • I committed to 40 days of Prayer with Children's Cup, all for the orphans and stuff relating
  • my husband and I are attending an adoption seminar this weekend (WHAT?!? That is GOD people!!)
  • The first mentioned blog is kinda orphan related and then the fast on Mondays thing
  • I got a letter from the child we sponsor through Missions of Mercy
  • I am hurting more over the daughter I lost. It is intensified and I feel it is related

I dunno, I just do not believe in coincidences. It is a lot of focus in one area for me. I am excited to see where this goes.

If you are interested, click the title of this post to find the blog that started the idea. I feel something supernatural around me. Like anticipation and excitement or something. Come on in boys, the water's fine!

Saturday, August 23, 2008

The number 4

I am not that great with numbers. My girls have even been known to say things like 'mom is not that good at math'. Also I have that weird thing with numbers I can see being even or a multiple of 5. Then all alarm clocks (which I hate and are of the devil) must be set on odd numbers. Then there is the number 4.

Middle child actually has a birthday on the 4th and she is the non-official favorite if such a thing were allowed without CPS being called and if the other 2 were grounded enough in my love to not need therapy later in life. Anyway, her birthday is the 4th and that is a weird dynamic because it is the very same birthday as my mother. My mother turned 50 the day I had a baby and I chose that induction date because she wanted it that way but I almost feel like I will pay for it the rest of my life. Middle child is the sweetest thing ever in the whole wide world. God still reigns.

Sometimes the number 4 hits me like a soccer ball to the bagina and knocks me on my ass. That is what happened yesterday. I have 4 daughters. But I do not get to be a part of the 'I have 4 children club'. There are only 3 car seats (boosters) in my van, 3 pair of pink cleats littering my kitchen floor, 3 kisses goodnight, 3 different voices saying my name.

Sometimes the number 4 hurts. And sometimes it just represents.

Every year my oldest has been in soccer, I have made a t-shirt to wear to games. Avery's Biggest Fan or Avery's Soccer Mom. This year all 3 are playing. I have been trying to decide what to do because I need a shirt for all 3. My love calls me from work to say he found a deal online and is getting me a professional shirt this year! I am stoked as we talk about options. We decide on Team Haynes and some other things and he asks if I know what my number will be. I take a guess and with a touch of pain in my voice (from getting slammed in the croutons earlier) I say I guess 5 because that is how many we are. My love says, "No. Your number is 4".

Oh, that man knows my heart! DAMN!

My Father knows it too. Sometimes 4 hurts and sometimes it represents. That's what Im talkin bout BABY!

Thursday, August 21, 2008

The End

So for the last 3 nights the Oldest has had some confession to make. It seems she was sword fighting a boy with a pencil and had lied the previous 2 days about the details of her offence.

I am so disappointed she did not trust me with the truth and she lied. And lied. And lied..

Really, I could care less about the trouble she got in. I just do not get why she did not trust me with the truth. I can even understand lying. I mean I struggle with telling the truth and I am an adult. But she lied to me.

I want her to trust me and I think she needs to be punished for lying so much. My husband does not agree.

This sucks.

She is taking it pretty hard and I am glad. I pray my children can not tolerate sin in their lives. I still feel my prayers are being heard and answered. This just hurts my pride. Which I guess can be a good sign. I do not want to raise up my children in the way they should go so I can be admired as a great parent. It should be for God's glory.

Looks like we both need to move our pin.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008


She did not do it! She chickened out and did not even give the teacher the note. Knocked me off my high horse right quick. Now I gotta punish her and talk to the teacher and it was supposed to all be over by now. CRAP! CRAP CRAP CRAPP!

Heavy Hearted

It is with a heavy heart I sent my oldest into the world today, equipped with a pack of tissues and an encouraging note full of scriptures to stand on.

I do not claim to be a great parent but I feel I do a decent job considering the facts that when I was not raising myself, the verbal and mental abuse I suffered made me crave the streets and/or alcohol. I try hard, that is for sure. I do my best to educate myself with parenting books and teachings. I ask advice from women I admire in the area of motherhood. I beg my God to help me not screw up too bad. And I love hard. My love for my girls is fierce, almost an angry love. All my 'feelings' include anger, a defence mechanism I am working on. I know I love them enough to give my life for them and even more, to do what is right by them. Even when it hurts.

Kenneth and I actually had a situation with the youngest recently and I told him I was clueless. Despite all my studies I was not sure how to handle the daughter that is so like me. I often remember how traumatic the pregnancy for her was. It was one of the hardest times in my life. It was insane what I went through while she was in utero and on occasions I think she may need some sort of deliverance exorcism Holy Ghost smack down but to be honest, I am too fearful to even go there.

I recently listened to a teaching on inner core pain and how it has to come out and be replaced with Love and I have this vision of becoming vulnerable and letting my walls down and releasing that pain and if anyone were there that was a seer, they would see demons. Yeah. Deep shit. So what do I do? White knuckle it and keep my secrets and pain to myself. It is better to keep my demons secret that to risk people knowing what I really live with. Pretty effing stupid, I know.

So last night the oldest says she needs to tell me something. She is crying and I know her. This will take hours. She, like her daddy, has trouble expressing herself in words when deeply troubled. Basically, she had a sub. who told her to move her pin for shaking her pencil. This is a child who has NEVER in all of pre-school OR 3 years of primary school ever had to 'move her pin'. Her teachers adore her, her subs usually adore her and see me in the school and run up to me to tell me how great she is. Considering the history of this child and my angry emotions, I think 'how dare that bitch!'.

I ask oldest child to show me exactly what she was doing with her pencil and if the teacher was upset. Was the entire class giving her a hard time? Did a lot of people have to move their pins? It did not make sense to me. Then she tells me she asked a question that took a while to be answered and by the time she was done with the question, she forgot to go move her pin. Now by this point, much time has gone by so I say you have to tell the teacher what happened. But I knew the teacher did not have this much time to invest so I suggest we write the teacher a letter. We do and I think it is over and put her to bed and it is not long before she is back in my room crying because she was not honest with me. She did not forget, she just did not want to move her pin. So we have to re-write the letter to be more truthful and deal with more snot and tears and prayer.

I so wanted to tell her, let's just keep the story about forgetting because this is getting exhausting. I seriously considered it but just as my daughter could not sleep on her sin, I could not condone it either. While she knew she had to do the right thing, she wanted me to do it for her. I wanted to do it for her! I want the teacher to let her off the hook for being honest and because the original offence seems stupid to me. So what if she was shaking her pencil! Give her a warning if you have some sort of whacked hang up about shaking pencils but do not mar my daughters perfect record and cause her emotional distress you CRAZY PSYCHO SUB! LET'S TAKE THIS OUTSIDE BECAUSE YOU MUST WANT TO FIGHT!

The oldest does not go to this class where it all went down till after lunch. This will be a long day. Anticipation almost paralyzes my oldest. I dare say the day will be almost as hard for me as it will be for her. What I have going for me is increased faith that my prayers are heard and answered because I pray for them to not be able to tolerate sin. If this is any indication of what kind of person she will be, my fears that my children will make mistakes like I did are vanished. That's what I'm talkin bout baby.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

How I am Saving the Planet

When I was in highschool, my contrabution to saving the planet was a bumper sticker on my car that said 'Save Water, Bathe with a Friend'. That and I used o.b. tampons.

Now that I am a grown up with children that need a nice planet to live on, I have started trying to find ways that I can go green since I no longer have a uterus and that bumper sticker may or may not be appropriate.

One of the things I have done that takes a bit of a commitment is to purchase some recycled totes to shop with instead of paper or plastic. They were a dollar each and I bought 4, figuring one for each of the girls and me. Plus, I think I just had a five dollar bill and had to factor in tax. The cashier that sold them to me said she thought they should have been free but I felt it a good investment.

My church serves coffee in paper cups but from now on, I will bring my own mug each week. I did it last week and they were cool with it since it is to save the planet our God created and all.

The other thing I have done is my favorite. I now tivo Battleground Earth (title links to the show site)! Being an ex-rocker, I very much enjoy watching Tommy Lee from the Crue and while I have never been a fan, Ludacris is very easy to look at. I have only seen one episode so far but I am COMMITTED and plan to watch them all! I do it because I care.

You're welcome.

Friday, August 08, 2008

How missing my kids reads

aka..how crazy I am. So my older two girls started school today and I am trying to clean my nasty house (and by nasty I mean I do not blame the roaches for blogging about the all you can eat buffet at my house) and I saw some gum I bought for my girls and this is the thought process I had;

I hate gum. Gives me a headache. Unless I am taking X and there are no girls to kiss. Then it is good.
I wish my girls could take a pack of gum to school to remember I love them and buy them gum.
Remember that bitch who wrote me up in the 4th grade for eating candy at school that time? (candy, not gum but whatever)
If my girls ever get in trouble for something stoopid I will prolly buy them more gum.
That and I will want to fight the teacher that wrote them up.

Unfortunatly I am serious. I ran into the teacher that wrote me up for candy after I had grown up and was an adult and had children of my own and the entire time I am talking with her I am thinking 'really bitch? It was a stoopid peice of candy!'. Sorry for the excessive use of the word bitch for the 3 of you who read here. Gum makes me say bitch a lot.

So now I am all anxious about anti-gum/candy bitchy teachers who will try to hurt my children and I feel the need to get out my punching bag or box on wii fit because I am all angry even though my girls have no gum/candy paraphernalia on them.

When they get home I will hug them and give them gum and tell them not to worry about mean people ('bitches' in my head) because I got their backs and they can have all the gum they want.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

The Birds and the Bees

Did I blog this? We read Superfudge this summer and after telling the older 2 how babies were made I got a book from the library detailing and illustrating the point. Not being able to leave the youngest out, I read it to her also.

There are times in my marriage when I am pretty sure my husband totally disagrees with me about something but he is just not into confrontation. I think this is one of those issues. He made another comment today and the book is already returned after a 2 week stay at our home.

I think I am right. SURPRIZE! I think my girls need to know the truth so when they are confronted with lies they will be equipped. Unlike I was. Ooohh. Am I projecting? I started my period at 9 and thought I was dying when pressure did not stop the bleeding. My mom did not know till I was 13. I want open lines of communication. I think my husband just does not want to deal with girl things or all things sex because he does not want to think of their sexuality on any level. My thoughts are what can I do to give my daughters a healthy view of sex and let them know we can discuss anything and everything.

We had a last day of summer family fun day. Well, we were supposed to anyway. Some certain male in our family did not soo much enjoy our idea of a fun day (window shopping at the mall). It is funny. I think he would rather me spend all his money that force him into quality time situations. Speaking of money. I so very much will one day spend $50 plus on a pair of high heeled crocks. I wanted them so bad today but I am an adult. They were like sex for my feet. If you like sex which I do.

I should have bought the shoes. Not only is it the last day of summer for my older 2 but football has started. At least my feet could be having sex.

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

40 days of prayer and perspective

Recently I was asked to share a dream of mine. Something big that was beyond myself. I dream of a clean house and freedom from debt and a retirement plan in Orlando with a part time job at Disney World (THE happiest place on earth! Seriously. The church can learn a thing or two from Disney). I was asked about a dream beyond what I could do. Something God inspired.

So here goes. I dream to visit orphans in Africa (specifically Mozambique where we have a church plant) with my entire family to do missions work. Like, for a year. I know. My husband hates to fly, to work hard, to not have all modern conviences within arm's reach, to sweat and to be face to face with things that may invoke feelings. My children are 4, 6 and 8 and cried for their own beds after 3 nights in a posh Disney suite. We have a mountain of debt (Matthew 17:20). I can hardly stay saved around my mother. I know. It is a God sized dream. And since He reigns and all...

And listen. I understand how long a year is. I am not trying to set a time limit but I just do not feel a 6 day mission trip to anywhere other than Orlando is where my heart is. I was in the Army. While my best friends were getting drunk at Senior Frogs in Cancun, I was getting up before 4am to get screamed at while I ran agabazillion miles with a ruck on my back almost as tall as me and only about 50 pounds lighter than me. I was shipped straight out of basic training to Soul, Korea at 18 years old without even a pair of underwear that was not basic issue.

I understand what it is like to not understand the main language spoken and shove a wad of foreign money at shop keepers and pray they do not screw me too bad as they take 'what I owe' for my purchases. I understand how after a while, the thought of an Exxon gas station or a WalMart can make a person cry from a new level of homsickness. I am just an all or nothing kinda girl.

My family sponsors a boy named Tokozoni through Mission of Mercy and it makes me a little sick as I sit at my 19 inch hot pink Dell loptop shoving a buttered toasted bagel (breakfast for supper night) in my overweight mouth but I try not to go there. I cant really. I just thank God for the geographical grace He gave my family to be a 'rich American family' and join in on things like Children's Cup's Forty Days of Prayer. And I dream.

Pray with me. Dream with me. Let's move some mountains.
Ps..that child belongs to us. It is the middle child at about one year old on a day her daddy was in charge. *giggle*