I've got spirit! But is it the right one?

The last post I wrote was the day my Nana died. *sigh* I didn't realize that until just now. Fitting, though, since, when I was bawling my eyes out on my front porch yesterday, I wanted to call and talk to her SO BADLY. But of course, that's not possible...so more tears.

Ya'll God moved in my life and heart yesterday in a way that sinks way down deep into my core.

I have been struggling a lot lately. I can't seem to connect sometimes...a lot of the times. Not with the kids, Josiah, or even with God. I'm trying and PRAYING, but to no avail. 

It came to a head yesterday...thus, the boohooing on my front porch after SCREAMING at my kids, a scene that's been all too common this week. I've noticed that the angry episodes and inability to connect are getting worse, particularly, prior to and during my monthly cycles.

I contacted a friend who asked me to meet for lunch, and on the way, I returned a call to my upline, Wendy. We talked about business for a few minutes, and then I spilled my heart out to her. I told her about it getting worse around my period and because of that, I'm thinking about getting my Mirena IUD taken out. I started to go into why THAT scared me when she stopped me...COLD.

She told me about a friend who had Mirena, who had the exact same symptoms. She said the doctor told her there was NO way it could be the IUD, so they tested her for all kinds of things. Finally, she had it removed...and it righted a vast majority of her issues.

I knew immediately that's what I needed to do.

I started to tell her that, but I also told her I was REALLY scared because I'm afraid of getting pregnant again, which makes me feel even worse because I KNOW Josiah wants more babies if possible...but I don't know that I do. I mean...I would LOVE any baby I have, but ugh...mother of SIX?! I'm just terrified.

She stopped me again.

She said, (and I paraphrase), Alissa, I know you love God and how dedicated you are, but all I hear from you right now is a spirit of fear, not trust in our Sovereign God.

And oh...how I cried.

She's right. I knew it immediately, DEEP DOWN in my soul, I knew she was right. I am living with a foreign object in me that is wreaking havoc on my body because I don't trust God enough to give me the right amount of babies. I don't trust him to give me what I need to handle any situation he gives me.

Oddly, I wrote about this just over one year ago (you can read that here). I remembered as soon as she said it, and I felt peace...the peace that passes all understanding. The peace that you get when you truly hand your worries over to our Sovereign God.

Peace.

My friend I met for lunch confirmed some of the stuff she was telling me, and then I called another friend who did the same.

THIS, ya'll...this is why you just can't be a lone reed, drifting through this ugly, dark world. We need other like-minded and like-souled individuals to guide us, to show us where we're being blind to our own sins and failures...so we can grow.

I am so grateful.

Let it also be known, that I tell people to "just trust God" All. The. Time. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of my heart and mind, I knew what I was doing wrong, but sometimes it's so easy to turn a blind eye to our fears. 365 times the Bible tells us not to be afraid...and yet...I think it's what Christians, the people who should struggle the least, wrestle with most.

So, I'm going to to make an appointment to get this Mirena out. I don't know what's going to happen from there, but I know God will guide us and helps us, no matter what. It's a REALLY good feeling.

I urge you. Today...right this minute...take a look at what you're consumed with right now. What are you worried about? What can you not stop thinking about? What have you turned around a million different ways to find different outcomes?

Take whatever that is, and place it before God. Trust Him to handle it...and don't be like me. Don't snatch it back, assuming YOU can do a better job of handling it than the Creator of the universe.

Remind me of that, the next time I do it...and I'll do the same for you.

Counting...and dreading...my blessings

**Disclaimer - this post is about some very personal decisions. It is not about YOUR personal decisions. I pass no judgment on anyone else, just me. If it makes you uncomfortable, search your heart and make sure that doesn't come from God...because I'm writing about decisions for OUR family. Now...let's dig in.**

My pastor is in the midst of a sermon series right now called "Break Away," and it's all about how we normally focus on our decisions and their outcomes, but we sometimes forget that what we believe determines our decisions, and once we've decided, we have far less control over the outcome than we imagine.

And sometimes our actions say far more about what we believe than our mouths. 

The main passage we're going through in the sermon series is Romans 12:1-2:

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters,

in view of God's mercy,

to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice,

holy and pleasing to God-

this is your true and proper worship.

Do not conform to the pattern of this world,

but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.

Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is-

His good, pleasing and perfect will.

The other passage he concentrated on yesterday was Proverbs 3:5-6:

Trust in the Lord with all your heart

and lean not on your own understanding;

in all your ways submit to him,

and he will make your paths straight.

He noted that this is one of those passages that we kind of take for granted: Yeah, of course. I trust God with everything. I trust Him to know what's right for me.

Do we really though? Do we really trust God to know what's right...for us? 

We say we do, but if we REALLY trusted God to know what's right for us...in all things...then we would follow His word at all times, without question, right?

But there are some things...some things we just have such a hard time letting go of. We don't actually say we know more than God. How presumptuous would that be?! Instead, we silently take control out of His hands...sneaking it back into ours...because just this once, we know what's best. 

Sound familiar?

One of the things the pastor mentioned in his long list of areas where we tend to take control away from God was "how many children to have." 

Booooo!! That's something I've been trying not to think about because, quite frankly, every time I think about it, I get stressed out.

Not that I could really avoid thinking about it.

As a 35 year-old woman (which is, according to modern medicine, advanced maternal age) who is pregnant with her fifth child, I get quite a few questions and raised eyebrows.

Is this the last one?

Are you going to have more? 

or my favorite - You're done after this, right?

My answer to all these people...I. DON'T. KNOW.

I laugh it off, but inside, this is really causing me some serious inner turmoil.

My children are all blessings. I love them all dearly, and I am beyond thankful for each and every one of them...

BUT. There is always a but. Even as I write this, as I look at my youngest beam at me with joyful eyes from under gorgeous blond curls and feel the baby inside me kicking in the womb, I feel tired.

The thought of going through this process God only knows how many more times makes me want to cry. 

On top of that, I feel super selfish because, just after my second child, I was diagnosed with PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome), and A LOT of women with that diagnosis have a very difficult time getting pregnant.

Apparently, I'm not one of them.

And those women, the ones who can't have babies, they aren't any LESS blessed by God!! They are simply blessed in different ways!! 

The question is, though, if I can have babies and God would provide them if I allowed it, am I refusing a blessing He would give? Am I saying, "God, I know you might bless me in THIS way, but I want to be blessed in a different way. Can you just give me a different blessing, please? The one you've chosen isn't good enough"?

The Bible never talks about women not wanting to have babies. Conversely, they were always wanted, always a blessing (except in Isaiah where he talks about the forthcoming judgment of Israel). Here are just a couple of the passages on the matter:

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,

the fruit of the womb a reward.

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth.

Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them!

He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.

Psalm 127:3-5

Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house;

your children will be like olive shoots around your table.

Behold, thus shall the man be blessed who fears the Lord.

The Lord bless you from Zion!

May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem all the days of your life!

Psalm 128:3-5

The Bible speaks of God opening and closing the wombs of certain women, which begs the question, should I simply trust Him to open and close mine?

Society says, "no." When I was about 30 weeks pregnant with Phinehas, the doctor asked, "do you know what type of birth control you'll use after the baby is born?" The question wasn't if, but what type.

Today, there's rarely a question over whether a woman will control how many children she has, and those who choose to leave it up to God are often viewed as zealots...even among believers.

WHY then, if the Bible is so clear that babies are always a blessing, is my heart so torn?

I mean, after all, a lot of the other stuff I want to do...the stuff that's very difficult to do with tons of children in tow...is really GOOD stuff. It's ministry stuff!! It's GOD stuff!

*sigh* stuff...children...or other stuff. 

Actually, now that I'm writing it down, it's really not a question of if, is it? If God wants me to do ministry stuff, He'll provide the when and how, won't He? It doesn't really matter how many children I have...because I can do all things within His will through Christ who strengthens me (Philippians 4:13).

Josiah is pretty solid on the subject. Babies are a blessing. He sees my children from my previous marriage as a blessing, the children we've been given together as a blessing, and any children we might have in the future as a blessing.

A lot of women would say, well, it's easy for him to see them as a blessing, but he doesn't have to carry them!

Well, no, not for nine months in the womb. And yes, I'm the one who's majorly responsible for teaching and loving throughout the day, but he will carry them in many other ways throughout their lives. He's the one that's responsible for caring for them financially and for leading our household. He doesn't bat an eye at the responsibility...

if only his wife were as steadfast.

Furthermore, despite the fact that many would argue that it's my body, and therefore my decision, the Bible is very clear that's NOT the case:

The wife does not have authority over her own body

but yields it to her husband.

In the same way, the husband does not have authority over his own body

but yields it to his wife.

1 Corinthians 7:4

Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord.

For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church,

his body, of which he is the Savior.

Now as the church submits to Christ,

so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

Ephesians 5:22-33

Gotta love those two verses. They make women's libbers all over the planet anywhere from super uncomfortable to downright incensed.

They are neither unclear or muddled: I'm to submit to my husband. My body is not just mine anymore, but his, and I should trust him to care for it and make decisions for it. 

So, here's the question...will I trust God in this area? Will I trust the Lord with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding? Will I dare to defy conforming to this world, renew my mind, and experience true and proper worship by presenting my body as a sacrifice?

That's straight out of scripture, folks, and the answer seems clear. I don't necessarily like it, but it's clear as day.

I might be wrestling with this decision for nothing. There's a possibility that I won't even be able to have any more children. Nevertheless, now that I've written my heart and the scripture down, I strongly feel - for our family - handing the possibility over to God is the only way to go.

How do you feel about this matter? Has your family made a different decision? I'd love to hear about it!

OR what about other areas of your life? I'm wrestling with this, but is there something else you're wrestling with? Are you silently ripping control from God's hands in some other area of your life? Are you saying to Him, I know best in THIS one area?

If so, I pray you'll examine your own heart and motives and seek His path and His glory, so He can make your paths straight.

Kids are people?!

I've had a revelation, and with that revelation came some conviction.

The revelation: our kids are TOTALLY people!!

I know, it sounds foreign, and as much as my father-in-law is convinced kids are plastic (family joke), I have discovered they are, indeed, flesh and blood people.

I know you're confused right now. As always, I have a story...

I have been very upset with a couple of adults lately at church because it got back to my child that they were speaking ill of her.

She used to love going to church and now, she still enjoys the Word, but heaviness hangs over her when she's there. She feels whispers around her, probably even when none exist...because you know, that's what gossip does.

How dare they!! Despite what they may think, our children are people, too, and talking about them is gossip just as much as speaking about an adult is. They're hurting my child! 

And then, the Holy Spirit swooped in with conviction for me...as He often does.

How often have I spoken ill about my children to other people? How often, when someone is sharing about their teenage daughter woes, have I (in an attempt to sympathize) said, "I don't really have those problems with Des, but man are we scared of when Emily gets there!" and many other things about all of my kids.

Ya know what? That's not nice. 

I learned before Josiah and I were even married that I should cover him in my speech (Time Warp Wife), but unfortunately, I didn't learn the lesson about my kids...until now.

Should we revisit what the Bible says about gossip?

Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths,

but only such as is good for building up,as fits the occasion,

that it may give grace to those who hear.

Ephesians 4:29

Whoever slanders his neighbor secretly I will destroy.

Whoever has a haughty look and an arrogant heart I will not endure.

Psalm 101:5

If anyone thinks he is religious

and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart,

this person's religion is worthless.

James 1:26

...and MANY more. Ouch.

Now, please don't misunderstand me. I know sometimes we need parenting advice; we need prayer for this journey. However, if that's the case, then we should following the same rules for that as we would for getting advice and prayer for our marriages - seeking wise Christian counsel in confidence, always being aware that we should still speak respectfully, even in times of trouble.

As a general rule - when seeking advice concerning anything that concerns another person, follow exactly the same guidelines you would want them to follow were they seeking advice about you.

What? You wouldn't want them talking to 20 different people to ask for advice and "get prayer" about you? You wouldn't want them to talk to people who wouldn't protect your relationship and may jump on the "ill-speaking" bandwagon?

Huh - interesting.

It's the golden rule, folks. "Do to others as you would have them do to you" Luke 6:31.

And, as it turns out, this doesn't just apply to grown-ups or people you haven't birthed. 

I guess I have some apologies to make. How about you?

Linking up with:

Time Warp Wife

Juana Mikels

Simply Beth

Playing with Razors

My little Ryan hurt himself yesterday. Although he's been told many times not to, he decided to touch his sister's razor in the bathroom.

Sometimes, it's just hard to be a little boy with sisters.

He came to me with a bloody thumb and tears in his sad, little eyes and wailed, "Mommy it hurts!"

I bandaged his little digit and gave him hugs. In this situation he'd already gotten punishment enough, but he did get a little speech.

We talked about why mommies and daddies have rules: to keep their children from getting hurt. We also talked about God's rules for us: they are for our benefit, and keep us from getting hurt. Emily chimed in at that point and said, "And to keep us from hurting other people."

*sigh* I don't know if she knows the weight of her statement

My sister-in-law, Jamie, wrote a beautiful blog post recently about her walk with God, and it so mirrored mine. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I just didn't get it. I had no idea how to go about living it. I thought there were "good Christians," and then there was me, and I tried, but I just couldn't be that good. I was too dirty. 

I made decisions for my life and never once consulted God because I prayed, but I had no clue how to hear His voice in my life; so why pray about decisions? 

I was flying on a wing and a prayer. My plane was in bad shape, and all my instruments were down. I didn't know where I was going, but I hoped I was still sort of in one piece when I got there.

Just to let you know, that's not a good way to go through life.

But then, God brought people into my life that showed me how to walk with Him...and it changed my life forever. He bandaged my wounded heart and continues to every day.

Last night I had dessert with my gorgeous young friend and her wonderful boyfriend. We talked about the blog and church, and she said she's trying to find God for herself. She's had some bad experiences with religion and church and hypocrisy and seeing unfaithful Christians, and now she's trying to work out her faith.

Oh my heart.

I told her I was proud of her and she needs to find Jesus for herself. Hear this: you cannot own someone else's religion. It has to be yours, in your heart. I have faith that she'll find Him, and I'll help her any way I can.

But it made me think back to when I was younger...all three years ago or so. I thought back to all the times I was claiming Jesus and clamoring around in the dark. I think again about people I may have misled or turned away from the gospel. I've asked for forgiveness, and I know it's been granted, but often accepting it is the hardest part.

Please understand this, and I say it not with condemnation but from experience - if you are claiming Jesus, but walking in darkness (not reflecting His light), then you are actively working for the other side. I see that now. There is no middle ground. I wasn't helping, so I was hurting...that's just how it is.

This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, 

that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. 

If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, 

we lie and do not practice the truth. 

But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, 

we have fellowship with one another, 

and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.

(1 John 1:5-7, ESV)

So, if you're there, walking in darkness, and you want to know how to walk in The Light, contact me. Email me (alissaandjosiah@yahoo.com); facebook me (https://www.facebook.com/daizygirl1979); comment here; heck, send carrier pigeons, whatever it takes. If you don't want to talk to me, call or email my pastor, Jim Weston, at Menchville Baptist Church (757-877-4532; pastorjim@menchvillebaptist.com).

Just don't go another day without claiming what is already yours! All you have to do is reach out and take it! There may be a cost (there is with every decision), and it probably won't be painless; I won't tell you a lie. But I will tell you this: it is always worth it. HE is always worth it. The relationship with Him is always worth it.

Life has many "razors", and unfortunately, most of them look like they'd be fun to touch. God's Word is there for us, not to hinder us from having fun, but to keep us and others, safe. We all have scars from the razors we've played with, but God is waiting, hearing our desperate cries saying, "Jesus it hurts!" 

But He's still waiting: to dry our tears, bandage our wounded hearts, and teach us the lessons we so desperately need. Let Him.

Do not fear, for I am with you;

Do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you, and help you;

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

(Isaiah 41:10, NIV)

Linking up with:
Simply Beth
Juana Mikels
Time Warp Wife

Taking the Plunge...in a BIG Way

Many of you are already aware that I plan on homeschooling Emily and Ryan in the fall.  There are many reasons for that, and I'll probably cover most of those in another blog, but this blog is about my scary, fantastic, revealing trip to the HEAV convention in Richmond and a decision I made because of it.

For those of you who are unschooled on the homeschooling, HEAV stands for the Home Educators Association of Virginia.  Each year they have a three day convention at the beginning of June in Richmond.  This is a big deal, and in a lot of cases, a family affair.  Families from all over the state come to attend the many workshops offered (both for parents and children), to browse and shop the exhibit hall filled with vendors, and nab deals at the used curriculum sale.  I was mainly going for the three free workshops they offer for beginning homeschoolers.

I was so delightfully excited and terrified leading up to it.  Each day ticked by like a roller coaster slowly ascending the hill leading to the first big drop...click, click, click.  I had been warned about the convention by veteran homeschool moms.  I knew it would be overwhelming, so I went in with a plan...and a binder.  

Binder and program from the convention

I was prepared to be overwhelmed, but one thing blindsided me.  After the first session, I was smacked with an intense desire to homeschool Destiny, too.

WHAT?!

I know what you're thinking.  No one takes a well-adjusted high school kid in the pre-diploma phase of the International Baccalaureate program and decides to homeschool them AND two other children at the same time.

I thought the same thing.

After the first of three sessions, I ran around desperately looking for friends I knew were attending the seasoned homeschool people workshops.

As luck (aka God) would have it, they were in the room right next door.  I spotted one friend from the hallway, navigated hurriedly through pockets of conversing parents, and attacked her in mid-conversation with her friend and fellow attendee.  I do mean attacked...arms flapping, half-laughing, almost in tears, and blurting "I need support!!"  Luckily, my friend knows me and my dramatic nature well, so she didn't mind too much.

After the workshops I entered the 7th level of hell for the new homeschooler, otherwise known as "the exhibit hall."

I jest...sort of.

The exhibit hall is actually awesome.  It's filled with all sorts of vendors; you can see curriculums and ask questions, buy supplies, get college information, and more.  For the beginner, though, it's total sensory overload.  I'd been prepared for that by friends and knew in advance I would buy nothing.  This was a scouting trip only.

It helped that a friend recommended this blog beforehand containing tips on organizing your convention binder.  One helpful suggestion was printing out the exhibit map and noting vendors you really want to visit and then putting that in the back of your binder.  As you can see, mine is color-coded based upon subjects (the legend is at the bottom, but hard to see).

This was really helpful because, while I wanted to see all the vendors, it gave me direction when I hit sensory overload.  I knew exactly where my next stop should be if I wanted to skip to it.  I did a great job scouting, too.  See?

Just a portion of the information I picked up from various exhibit booths.

Those are just some of the brochures I picked up from different vendors...and this only consists of information from about 1/20 of the exhibitors.  It was awesome...and nuts.

As the evening progressed, my thoughts veered more and more toward Destiny's educational destiny (haha), and little discoveries pushed me closer to the edge.

'Oh, they have homeschool OM teams.' (Odyssey of the Mind)

'Oh, they have a Christian Forensics league, and there's a base in Yorktown.'

'Oh, you can take AP classes and/or exams, as well.'

'Oh, there are actually more AP classes available because you're not limited by what the school offers.'

Oh.

Each vendor starts with one basic question..."what ages are you teaching?"  

I started by saying "Probably just my 10 and 6 year olds, but I have a 15 year old, as well."

Then I graduated to, "I was thinking of just homeschooling my 1st and 5th graders, but now I'm considering my 10th grader, as well."

And finally, "1st, 5th, and 10th grades."

With each person I talked to I started to feel more like this was something I could (and should) do.

On my drive home from Richmond constantly yanked back tears so I could see the road.

My Destiny.  On her way to 10th grade...only 3 years left before college.

What am I thinking??  She's begging me to be homeschooled. She's begging for time with me and her siblings.  She's gotten knocked around as collateral damage in two fights already this year, had to step through blood in the hallway afterward, and has seen cockroaches and rats.

WHY WOULDN'T I HOMESCHOOL HER?

I used her IB curriculum as an excuse since I first began considering homeschooling.  Now, armed with new information, it felt like the only thing holding me back was my own fear.

I prayed.

I prayed for wisdom for myself and for Josiah...because I was about to go home and unload this on him and toss the ball in his court because I didn't want it anymore.

After hearing the new information, he thought it was a good idea, too.

But what about her dad?  Would he be on board.

Yup...after hearing about it, he's on board, too.

But what about Destiny?  Maybe she just wanted to homeschool because it wasn't a possibility.  Teenagers are experts at wanting something simply because it isn't available.

Nope...Destiny is still totally on board. I made her think about it all day before she made her decision.  She came home with her decision firm, her mind made up.

So, unless something huge comes along to change our minds, we will be homeschooling everyone next year, and I'm so excited.

It just didn't feel complete before.  How could I start this amazing adventure and leave a member of the family behind?

Now, I'm triple scared, but triple excited!!  I know it will be difficult, but I'm ready, and I am so happy my Desilu is coming along for the ride. :)

Panic and Peace

I had a thought in the shower this morning.  Come to think of it, I do a lot of thinking in the shower.  That may be because it's some of the only time I get alone to think.  Anyway...

I thought about the movie we went to see last night ("Oz the Great and Powerful"), and I sort of sighed to myself, "I guess that's the last movie I'll see for a while."

And for just a moment, I freaked out a little bit about having a newborn again.

What else wouldn't I be able to do?  Have I forgotten how much work infants are?  It will be forever before I have time away again!

And then I thought about my gorgeous kids.

How beautiful Destiny gets every day.  She'll be 15 tomorrow.  Wasn't it just yesterday she was a baby sleeping on my chest?

My girls with their Nana.  This picture was in the Lynchburg newspaper today because my mom wrote and published a children's e-book and my girls illustrated it.

And little Emily...she's not so little anymore.  She's 10 now, and I feel like I can almost SEE her growing, and she's becoming a gorgeous young lady.

And my Ryan.  When did we stop calling him "the baby"?  I know just yesterday or the day before someone told me we'd have to stop calling him that eventually...but no...that was a few years ago.  He's 6 now.

I realized in those few short moments that the teeny weeny bit of time we get to be tied to them, when they need us for everything, is a blessing, not a burden.

I'm so excited to meet our new addition.  I can't wait to hold that precious little creature in my arms. It's going to be wonderful to share the experience with Josiah, too.   God gave me the best person I could possibly imagine, and He allowed us to create a new, little life.

I am blessed.

And I am grateful.

Just Write: I want to cry, but I can't.

I want to cry, but I can't.

I'm tired and frustrated, feel overused and under-appreciated.

I want to cry, but I can't...hold it together, Alissa.

"Alright, guys, it's bedtime.  Let's go."  Bite your lip and refuse to think.  Refuse to think about how you have to go back to work tomorrow...to the job that pays the bills.  To the job that keeps your family alive.  To the job that's driving you insane.  Paper, paper, paper and more paper.  The seamless flow of never ending paper.  No project ever ends and every day the same as the one before.  Groundhog day...again and again.

Everything is irritating me.  Is it really that the kids aren't behaving, or do I have a short fuse?  Did I love them enough today?  I don't remember.

I shuttled them to Daddy's early so I could get to work.  I got off work early so I could shuttle everyone to the dentist.  Cleaning, cleaning one by one.  Shuttle to the grocery store to buy something for dinner because Mommy couldn't remember to thaw the chicken.  So, what's for dinner?  Chicken...Farm Fresh rotisserie style.

"Please stop talking so I can decide what vegetables to get.  Please get over here.  Please get off the cart.  Please don't touch your sister.  Please stop antagonizing your brother.  Please!  Stop!  I CAN'T THINK!!"

"What did I do?  Why am I in trouble?  All I did was....  All I said was...."

Whining and crying all the way home.  Disrespectful faces and harsh words.  Now we're home, and it's time to prepare dinner and oh yeah, spankings all around.

Dinnertime.  Dear Lord, thank you for this food and help me with the nervous breakdown please.  More peas?  More chicken?  More pasta?  More, more, more.

"Did you make the cake, Mom?  Is it ready?  Can I ice it?  Is it cooled?  How long to cool?  Now?  Now?"

Josiah is here.  YAY!  Hugs for Josiah.  Make him a plate.  Is it warm?  Is it enough?  Does he like light meat or dark meat?  I can't remember.

"Josiah, your dinner is ready."  Where's Josiah.  What's that squealing?  He's playing with Ryan.  Ryan is giggling and laughing and playing.  Josiah hasn't eaten; he's barely walked through the door.  And yet, and yet, he's still found time to get down on the floor and play with my son.  I love him.  I love them.

Did I play with my son today?  Did I love the kids enough today?  Did I give them what they needed?

I don't remember.

Now they're asleep and it's all too late.  Assignments to do.  Bathrooms still aren't clean.  Laundry still isn't put away.  Kitchen isn't all the way clean.  More, more, more, more.

And I won't think about the job I have to go to tomorrow.  The job that pays the bills.  The job that keeps my family alive.  The job that keeps me in a windowless hole for 8-9 hours per day.  "The light!  It burns!"  The job that slowly makes me feel like I'm dying inside.  The job I used to really like.  The job that keeps my family alive.

Did I love my kids enough today?  I don't remember.

I want to cry, but I can't.

Alissa's Lesson of the Day: Be Grateful for the Time You're Given

Time is such a hot commodity...and it always feels like my stock is low.  It always seems no matter how much time I get or have, I always want more.  I have the same amount of hours in one day as anyone else, and yet, it feels sometimes like I'm still missing some.

I did get to steal some time with Josiah for DAYS this weekend, and I truly appreciate that.  We visited my parents and Friday during the day he took me back to Harper's Ferry, WV and Saturday we went exploring in downtown Lynchburg.  I love "us" so much.  The way we are together is so peaceful, and yet it also feels like every day is a new adventure.  *sigh*  There is something so beautiful about being with someone for days and then, when you finally part ways, you feel like something is missing.  Nevertheless, back to our lives we go...

It was great to get the kids back today.  We visited Menchville Baptist, and I really enjoyed it.  It was a different service for everyone though because the pastor and the praise band were on vacation AND THERE WAS NO CHILDREN'S CHURCH!  When the lady told me I said, "that's fine" but on the inside I screamed...LOUD.  I wasn't angry or anything, but I went into a bit of a panic thinking about all the whining and wiggling I'd have to deal with for the next hour or so.  I envisioned a fierce battle ensuing, with whining coming from Emily on my left while Ryan makes a desperate effort to crawl around on the floor with only my fierce grip on the back of his shirt stopping him.  I pictured us leaving later looking completely disheveled and apologizing to everyone within 50 feet.

Ya know what happened?  They were really very good!  Ryan was a teeny bit squirmy, but he's 4, and Emily watched the entire sermon quietly.  I just had to remind her to remove her thumb from her mouth every now and the...which she did...without complaint.  I was VERY thankful and I actually remembered to tell them that, which I don't always do.

We came home and had lunch and took a really long nap.  Emily and I were the first up so she helped me make dinner.  A lot of times I'm in a rush to just get dinner done, and I have such a SMALL kitchen, so I don't want anyone in my way, but I realized recently that if the girl is begging to help, I should probably let her.  It gives us some one-on-one time together and teaches her a few things in the process.  She really does have such a helpful little spirit sometimes.

After that we had movie night.  We rented "Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Roderick Rules" and "Race to Witch Mountain" from the redbox.  It was nice to just cuddle with them and watch the movies.  Then it was showers and bedtime for them and a little computer time for me. 

Which brings us to a few minutes ago when I found myself sitting at the computer with tears streaming down my face reading a couple blogs written by stay-at-home moms.  I read about entire days spent with their children and wonderful daily routines.  Sure, there are struggles, but they get to see all their triumphs and hear all their little laughs, and I realized just then how truly jealous I am of them.  I'm jealous not just of the time they spend with their children, but of the fact that if they crave time away from them then they have a valid excuse.  I, on the other hand, spend a ton of time away from my kids working, volunteering, etc., and then when we DO spend time together, we have a tendency to try to cram in fun.  We run and run and run and run some more to the point where even though I don't get to spend a lot of time with them, I still want time away.  So here I sat, tears blurring the screen, with my pouty "it's not fair" attitude and ya know what word popped into my head?  Covetous.

The Mirriam-Webster dictionary online defines the word "covet" as a, inordinate desire for something belonging to another.  In this case, I covet time.  I realized quickly, though, to be jealous of the time these other mom's have with their children makes me ungrateful for the time I DO get with my children.  Today God gave me children who obeyed (for the most part) and patience when they didn't.  He gave me special time with Emily, lots of hugs and kisses from Ryan, and even some snuggling with Des.  He gave me wonderful time with Josiah this weekend and some absolutely gorgeous scenery, both of which recharged me and made me miss the munchkins so much, which is a really good thing.

The last thing I want to do is swallow whole all the blessings God has given me without so much as tasting them only to cry for more.  So today I am thankful...truly and deeply thankful.  I am grateful for the people I love and who love me, and to God for so quickly showing me the error of my ways so I can correct them and learn from them.  He is a gentle, loving, and merciful God, and for that I am the most thankful.

(For anyone who wants to see pictures of the trip, I'll be posting those tomorrow, here and on facebook.)

*Correction: Mommy Murdered ALL Things Magical

Yup, that’s me apparently.  I talked to Destiny a couple days ago about my decision to not have Santa visit Mommy’s house, and I became the Murder of All Things Magical.  *sigh*  I can’t necessarily say I blame her.  This is a rough enough time for her.  I’m dating someone, and it looks rather serious.  Her father is dating someone else, too.  He is becoming ever more the atheist, while my household is looking more and more toward the cross every day.  She is thirteen and vacillates daily between tossing aside childhood and all its wonders, and embarking on this great adventure of responsibility we call adulthood.  Therefore, I should have expected the tear-filled, horrified reaction I received.  We’ll get through it, and I think she’ll understand eventually, but it’s not going to be right this second.

I have to admit, part of me is still clinging to the Santa myth, too.  Christmas is one of my favorite times of year.  I love the magic and the feeling of hope and love that accompanies it.  I think this was one of the major deciding factors for me.  My heart is clinging to the wrong magic…and if mine is, then my children’s will as well. 

Destiny argued that I was taking away everything magical.  “Are you going to make him stop pretending to be a dinosaur, too?!  That’s lying right?  Pretending is lying, too!” she cried at me with tears pouring down her poor, little face.  I countered that pretending is rooted in knowing something isn’t real, but using the imagination to explore a world that doesn’t exist.  She then yelled that he watches Spiderman and thinks that’s real…do we tell him EVERYTHING is fake?  Do we kill all his little childhood delusions?  That one actually stumped me a little.

I’ve spent the last couple days mulling that, and I think the answer is “no.”  I do not need to destroy all his magical fantasies at 4 years old.  Thus, if Ryan wants to pretend he’s Harry Potter and I’m Hermione Granger, then we will flourish our wands and yell with intensity “Wingardium Leviosa!”  If he wants to pretend to be Max from Where the Wild Things Are (Maurice Sendak), then we will create mischief and will dance with the monsters while they roar their terrible roars and gnash their terrible teeth and roll their terrible eyes and show their terrible claws and he will be “king of all the wild things.”

But when he comes to me and asks me about Christmas and Easter, I will tell him the story of how God sent his son to Earth to dwell among us.  I will relate the true story of how he lived a sinless life, died a gruesome death and dove into the depths of hell for each of us, and then rose again to prove the glory that was his birthright as the Son of God and prepare his disciples that would spread the Word to the ends of the earth.  That…that is an infinitely wondrous amount of magic.

“And if it seem evil unto you to serve the LORD, choose you this day whom ye will serve ; whether the gods which your fathers served that were on the other side of the flood, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell : but as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.”  Joshua 24:15 (KJV)

Mommy Killed Santa

About four years ago, when Destiny was nine, I decided it was time to tell her the truth about Santa. It didn't seem like a giant shock for her. She is a smart girl, very level-headed, and pretty intuitive. Later that day we were driving towards the mall and I heard her small voice mutter from the backseat, "Santa is dead." I, of course, immediately went into panic mode thinking I had permanently ruined my little girl's psyche and envisioned endless trips to a therapist because "Mommy killed Santa." I asked her to explain her statement. It seemed an inflatable Santa on top of a restaurant rooftop had deflated a bit and fallen over. Thus, Santa was dead. Hahaha...tragedy averted. She was fine.

On the other hand, Mommy killing the Easter Bunny for Emily this year was a different story. She cried and wanted to know why we lied to her. She said, "the next thing you know you're going to tell me Santa and the Tooth Fairy aren't real either!" Um...uh oh.

Why do we do this? Especially those of us who are Christians? Who decided it was a good idea to Celebrate holidays surrounding Jesus with fictitious characters bringing children presents, which then completely detracts from the true meaning of the holiday?

Please don't misunderstand me, I'm not condemning those who celebrate this way. Obviously, I'm right there alongside them. Josiah and I were talking about Christmas this year, and he suggested that Santa not bring toys to Mommy's house for Ryan (since he's the only one the myth would still apply to). Santa didn't come to Josiah's house when he was growing up. Sure, they had Santa figurines and they knew who he was and they still got presents. However, his parents are very strong Christians and they simply chose to focus on the birth of Christ in their family. Huh...there's a concept for you.

On the other hand, when I was growing up, Santa TOTALLY came and I loved it. Heck, my parents still mark "from Santa" on their presents to me. I went to school and Santa visited all of the people there, too (at least as far as I knew...I'm sure I'm somewhat mistaken in that memory). When Josiah mentioned Santa NOT coming to see Ryan, I immediately had a negative reaction. "He's only four! I have to take the magic away so soon?!"

That was when it hit me. Here I am talking about the taking the magic away from him if I take away Santa, but in all reality as a Christian, the REAL magic should be in God sending us His son as a Savior, right? How's that for magic?

I still couldn't agree with Josiah right away. I had to mull it over a bit. What about when Ryan goes to school and the other kids talk about what Santa brought? How much flack would I have to take from family and friends over this? My entire life I've just looked at it as no big deal. After all, I've taught my kids what the holiday is actually supposed to be about, right? Nevertheless, in scrutinizing my reaction to the suggestion of removing Santa, I see where my own focus has been. While I taught my children what Christmas is supposed to be about, I'm sure I've spent WAY more time every year perpetuating the Santa myth.

Josiah also brought up very valid arguments to assuage my fears in other areas. Santa will still visit because I am not the only parent they have, and since their father doesn't even believe in God at this point, I'm thinking he doesn't have a problem with Santa coming to his house. He just doesn't have to come to mine. Furthermore, I may get catch a good amount of flack from him and other family and friends for making this decision. They may say I'm taking this whole "church thing" a little far...and I think I'm okay with that.

At some point, I have to let go of wanting everyone to like and agree with me and just do what I think is best. I have made a commitment to focus on my spiritual growth and I think this is part of that road for me. No more myths of men in red suits and bunnies carrying baskets...I'm a big girl now, and I think it's time for me to teach my children where the magic in these holidays truly lies.