Strands of Insecurity

When I was a little girl, my mom spent much time teaching me how to use yarn and a crochet hook to make things; such as, blankets, scarves, and pillows. I loved the process of taking a new skein of pretty colored yarn, making it into a ball, and then starting the many hours of crocheting the strands of yarn into something usable and pretty. It was usually a pillow or small blanket that I would make, only to take it apart to create something else, or make the same type of item in another way. My parents didn’t have a lot of money so there wasn’t an endless amount of yarn to work with, so I would just keep ‘recycling’ the same skein of yarn. My mom tried to teach me how to knit; however, I just couldn’t get the first few rows right so I would just crochet. I preferred crocheting to knitting anyway because progress was seen much quicker with crocheting and I have always been about seeing progress in what I do. It’s always fascinated me how I could take a very long strand of yarn and make something so beautiful, so useful, so warm, and comfortable. And how something so simple as a strand of yarn could make something so strong and durable like a blanket, scarf, or pillow.

During my childhood, there were some other strands that were being woven together that created something very strong. It seemed to be warm and comforting, and maybe useful at times; however, that turned out to be a lie just like the things that I believed about myself. The strands of lies that I believed created something, but I wouldn’t call it beautiful like the things that I crocheted out of yarn. The strands of lies created within me an insecurity. The lies falsely advertised that they were correct, that they would keep me safe if I just trusted them, that I couldn’t trust others; even if they claimed to be safe. The garments that these strands of lies created were cloaks of shame and hiding and guilt. This was not something that I knew I was choosing; I was just a little girl, but it; nonetheless, was what I chose to create with the strands that were provided for me.

The garments that are created by lies are anything but beautiful, warm, comforting, useful, or durable. They are a false covering, a false sense of security, a false surrounding, a false …….; you can fill in the rest I am sure. The garment of shame says “I am bad” and it can lead to feelings of inferiority, to destructive behaviors, self-pity, passivity, withdrawal or hiding, living with a drive toward drivenness, codependency, self-loathing, and/or a distorted body image. The garment of guilt says “I did something bad,” and it carries with it feelings of being dirty, ugly, unworthy, and unlovable. The garment of guilt likes to hang around with the garment of shame; they are best buds and enjoy building on each other. The garment of guilt likes to camouflage itself in relationship issues, in personal struggles, in distorted perspectives, and in misplaced motivations. The strands (lies) that are woven together to create these false garments infect the entire garment and the one wearing it. These garments are so different from the beautiful, warm, comfortable, useful items that I created out of yarn; but are they? Both start with a strand. Both are woven together over time. Both are created at the hands of humans. But they are different because one is meant for good and the other is meant for evil.

I know that even what is meant for evil can be turned into good; in the Hands of an Almighty God. Over time, those same garments of shame, guilt, and hiding; when placed into the Hands of God, can be redeemed for acceptance, love, and grace. The lies that I believed as a child; over years, became woven garments of shame, guilt, hiding, etc.; however, I placed these garments in the Hands of my Almighty, Sovereign, Victorious Warrior God and what He’s given me is the most beautiful red velvet ball gown to wear. He’s placed the most magnificent gold; with diamonds princess crown on my head, and He’s orchestrated the most majestic ball in my honor so that He and I can be together for eternity in His majesty. The most fabulous thing about this is that God has had this celebration planned for all of time. He has been pursuing me, just as I was; icky garments and all! Just like it took much time and patience for God to retrain the Israelites after their long season of slavery in Egypt, God has been patiently pulling the strands of lies from my own life and He’s creating me to be the beautiful masterpiece that He planned long before I was conceived in my mother’s womb.

What about you? Have you placed your icky garments into the merciful Hands of God so that He can bestow upon you your beautiful garments and royal crown? When we give Jesus our ashes, He gives us His glorious Beauty; God’s Word says so.

#BeautyForAshes

CELEBRATING A LIFE

A year after my mom died, in 2005 my dad had to have one of his kidneys removed because it was full of a cancerous mass. This seemed to be the start of many health issues with my dad. He was diabetic, had COPD, congestive heart failure, and developed renal failure because of his body fighting the other issues with only one kidney. He also had both knees replaced; his right knee went through two artificial knees and two medicated spacers, all this because of him developing a nasty infection in the first knee replacement. We almost lost him to sepsis after the first replacement in his right knee. My dad was such a fighter that he just kept going even when it took all that he had to just go through a day. He was very determined to not give up. I spent much time with my dad in the last year of his life, sitting in the hospital ER department because the fluid in his body was too much and he was struggling to breathe. He was in the hospital and rehab more than he was out in the last several years of his life. He spent the last seven and a half months of his life taking dialysis three times a week. During this time, I was able to spend time in sweet conversation and some stressful conversation with my dad. On one occasion, I spent a day with him. That is such a sweet memory for me. My dad struggled with much anxiety and how he would relieve this anxiety would be going for a ride in the country. My dad grew up a farmer and farming was his first love. Driving around the countryside that he knew his whole life, brought him much joy and helped to ease his anxiety. On this day that I spent with my dad, we went for a drive because he was feeling like a caged animal. This drive was one of the sweetest times that I have ever had with my dad and it serves as a great memory for me; just hearing him tell me who owned what property, what crop was planted in the fields, and the families that had owned the different farms. His love for the countryside came out in his words.

On November 15, 2021, my dad fell while leaving his house to go to dialysis. He fractured seven ribs falling on a wooden flower box. Like I said, my dad was determined to keep fighting; he still went to dialysis not knowing that he fractured seven ribs; he just knew he was in pain. When I picked him up from dialysis, he asked me to take him to the ER because he was hurting really bad and he was sure that he had ‘cracked a rib.’ I knew that he was in bad shape because he had me go into the dialysis office to walk him out and he never did that; he always walked himself out to my truck. To walk out of the building he needed my help as well because he had to walk with a walker always and that day he couldn’t push the walker very well because of the pain. At the hospital, we learned that he had fractured seven ribs on his right side and he had to be transported to a larger hospital with a heart center ICU and where he could receive his dialysis treatments. The nurse shared with me that he was in pretty bad shape but I didn’t know just how bad until later. With everything my dad had been dealing with for years, I knew that he was nearing the end of his earthly life but figured he still had some time. Once he was on his way in the ambulance, I went home because my sister was planning to meet him at the other hospital an hour away. I needed to get home to watch my granddaughter because my husband needed to go to work and I had committed to watching her that night and next morning. It was pretty late when I arrived home and I didn’t get much sleep between caring for an infant and taking many text messages and phone calls about my dad from my sister. The next morning, I was awakened with multiple calls about my dad; from my sister and the hospital. My dad’s condition was so bad that forced air oxygen and some pretty heavy-hitter meds were the only things keeping him alive. My sister and I had to have a pretty tough conversation with my dad about the fact that this time he just wouldn’t be able to bounce back like he had done so many times before; his body was just too beat up and it couldn’t continue anymore. My sister and I had to have a similar conversation prior to our dad’s starting dialysis just over seven months earlier. I hate those conversations! In the end, my dad decided to stop fighting and we were able to be with him as a family when he entered eternity very early on November 17, 2021.

I was thankful to be with him in these last hours. In the last months, one of the things that kept my dad fighting was that he had many things not taken care of and he didn’t want to leave them for my sister and I; but we ended up being left with them anyway. Dealing with my dad’s ‘loose ends,’ kept me from starting the grieving process. I felt; wrongly, that we needed to get all of these things taken care of and then I could grieve and mourn and heal from the loss of my dad. All this did was create friction in my extended family and much unneeded stress for me. By the time that I realized I needed to let the issues go, I had pushed the grieving aside and didn’t face it. It took several months for me to realize how I had not allowed myself to grieve my dad’s passing. This has taken an ugly toll on my mental state and emotions. I realized that I was mad at my dad for many of his choices through the years and for all the things that he left behind for my sister and I to deal with. And then it felt like my sister was struggling so much with his passing that I thought that I HAD to DO it ALL on my own. Such lies I believed! Much too late I realized that the stuff could wait to be dealt with; I just needed to BE with my Heavenly Father and my family and let God help me to heal, the rest of the stuff would work itself out in time. Instead, my push to get it all worked out made for a more miserable Thanksgiving; he passed about eight days before Thanksgiving. While I am thankful that I have begun to actually mourn my earthly father’s passing, it’s still really hard to face that both of my parents are no longer ‘here’ with us physically. Now it’s up to my sister and I to keep our family connected.

#LossIs Hard

TODAY’S WORDS CAN BECOME TOMORROW’S TRIGGERS.

What’s in a word? Letters. Emotion. Attitude. Sadness. Hate. Regret. Life Lessons. There’s so much in a word. It is said that in face-to-face communication, 55% of what we convey is the nonverbals; such as, our body language, 38% is our tone, pitch, and volume, and only 7% is the actually words that we speak. While; by these findings, the actual words that we speak have little impact in our communication, the truth is that the words that we speak to children absolutely have a huge effect on children. The nonverbals and the vocal components of our conversation add a great amount to the impact on children as well. As adults, our words to child can build them up and encourage them and give them life. Our words can empower children to strive to succeed. Also; our words can belittle, squash, condemn, and curse children and the rest of their lives. Each child; each individual, was created by God with a specific purpose, when the adults in the life of a child speak cutting words to them and over them, their lives are impacted permanently; or until their hearts are connected to the God who created them.

I have personally been impacted by words spoken over me as a child. The same question asked to me almost every day for years; or maybe it just seemed that way, the question was burned into my mind so deeply that into adulthood it was a struggle for me to accept that God’s promises are for me; like they are for every other person. The question I was asked is not the point; the point is that the tender God-created heart of a child is a precious important part of who they are. The physical heart supplies the needed nutrients to the rest of the body. When it isn’t cared for and nurtured it doesn’t work properly and tends to break down. The spiritual heart is very much the same. When a child has cutting words spoken to them or over them, their spiritual heart is deeply wounded; not cared for or nurtured. As the child grows into an adult, they find themselves walking around with that same wounded uncared for heart. Several outcomes are possible. They may strive to be perfect so they will be accepted, loved, and belong. They may become criminals, become hard-hearted, become people-pleasers, or they may work themselves beyond human capacity. Of course this is not an exhaustive list; I just wanted to share some examples.

The enemy of our souls loves to play in these situations. He likes to tell us; in our own voice (in our minds), that we don’t deserve to be loved, we have to go 90 miles an hour with our hair on fire or we won’t measure up, or your just stupid and worthless; whatever it is that relates to what was spoken to you as a child. The heart of a child is so tender and wants so much to be loved and cared for; words spoken really do matter.

Scripture warns us to guard our hearts because it is the wellspring of our being and that we are to watch our tongue because it is like a two-edged sword. Words can cut like a knife. The difference is the physical wounds heal and become a distant memory that we share when we want to compare ‘war stories.’ With words, you can’t see the scars but they are very real and continue to hurt long after the dust settles.

I realize that this is a pretty bleak post. I want to share hope. I have found so much healing through freedom ministry and handing over wounds to Jesus. He takes such great care of them and me! I still deal with triggers and sometimes it still hurts; but I know that I can run to Jesus and He’s going to carry me through until the hurt subsides. For years; I just buried everything, thinking that it would go away or magically be healed because I didn’t want to deal with all that stuff anymore. One of the things that Jesus has shown me is that I can use my own; albeit, difficult story to help others who have experienced something similar. I also have been determined to do my best to not speak cutting words over the children in my life. Of course I am far from perfect and have a long way to go; however, I am at peace knowing that my Great God has His mighty Hands all over my life.

If you have experienced a childhood with condemning words spoken to you or over you and you just need to talk it out, I am here with a sympatric ear and a tender heart. May God use what the enemy has intended for evil, for our good and His glory.

#ShutUpSatan

REFLECTIONS

Reflecting on the celebrations of the Fourth of July look a little different for my family than other families. I have heard several times Happy Fourth or Happy Independence Day! While I celebrate the blessings of living in a ‘free’ land, I also grieve the loss of my son on this day. It’s with mixed emotions that I venture into this day. I am so grateful for my independence as a citizen of the USA and I am; at the same time, sad for the missing part of my family and grateful that I can know that Tad’s in the presence of our Heavenly Father and not spending eternity separate from Him. I hate that I can’t be with Tad and I miss him more than I can speak; however, truly he has always been God’s son first and mine second so I am thankful for the 22 short years that I had the privilege of being his mom. Of course, there were times when I really wanted to string him up by his toes because he pushed me to my breaking point; but I still loved him with all my heart.

Tad liked to live on the edge; of what, I don’t know but always on the edge. He loved much. He liked to make people laugh. And he always helped me to not take myself so seriously. Boy, I miss his hugs. (I know, random thought.) Anyway, grieving the loss of my son has been a journey in so many ways. I have seen God work in more ways than I could ever imagine. I have had people pray for me that I have never met. I have experienced a pain like no other pain I have ever experienced before; and at the same time, a love like no other because it comes from my Abba Father. Grief is a wild ride.

The reason that I share all of this today is because today; the Fourth of July 2022, marks eight years since my Tad went to be with the Lord because of a motorcycle accident. The day began with a celebration of my husband’s birthday. His birthday is July third and he had to work on that day so we; as a family, celebrated on the fourth. God blessed us with a fun day of playing with Emmett at the ‘frog park’; as he called it, and then we went shopping together. My husband took his Harley out for a ride while our kids and I made his favorite meal. After dinner, Tad went for a ride himself on his dad’s Harley. When he left for that ride, it was the last time we saw him. As anyone who has experienced something like this knows, the details of such days tend to be forever implanted in your mind. Sometimes they get a little jumbled, but they are there. Tad’s son Emmett was three years old when he lost his daddy. It’s been a journey for him as well. Emmett is now 11 years old and is so much like his dad. I know that Tad would be so proud of the man that he is becoming!

Emmett and I have had some interesting conversations where he shares with me his thoughts on things of life and I felt it fitting for him to share from his perspective.

Question: What do you wish people understood about what it’s like to be a young person whose lost his dad at a young age?

Emmett: It’s not easy only having one parent especially when the one that died was your best friend and the only one left you don’t really get along with.

Question: How is life without a dad to guide you through life?

Emmett: It can be hard at times. Sometimes I think it’s not fair. But I always remember this is all part of God perfect plan.

While the people around us celebrate with fireworks and parades, we just work to get through the day and remember how blessed we are for the loved ones that we still have with us today. One of the things that makes me smile is remembering how Tad would have been happy that he went to Heaven with a bang because fireworks were happening in the area of his accident. This may seem like a strange thing to smile about, unless you knew Tad.

His Story, My Story

No matter our relationships, our loved ones are part of our story. The part of my story that I will share with you involves my son. He is my first born and only son. My sweet happy baby boy turned into a very active toddler with some behavioral issues. After talks with our doctor and a counselor, we saw better days with help of behavior modification and a medicine. This part of my mothering journey was prior to my relationship with Jesus. Now I know that prayer would have been a great resource for me back then.

At the age of four, my son was unofficially diagnosed ADHD and so began my journey to learn all I could about ADHD and what may possibly help us work through this. I explored meds, natural remedies, and book after book about the ADHD and child rearing in general. Trying to mother this boy was a roller coaster ride through the ups and downs of emotions and fits of throwing every toy out of his toy room at me in the kitchen. The times of being hugged and told “I love you” and in the next breath “I hate you;” this was my daily life. I remember the cycles of about six weeks of life being okay to six weeks of constant behavioral problems. The sweet times were so awesome and then the other times were so trying. Anyone with a child living with ADHD can probably relate.

When my Tad was ten years old, it was the greatest year! He was so compliant and happy. It was the reward before the punishment of the preteen and teen years. Those preteen and teen years were more of the roller coaster ride with the ups and downs surrounded by teen boy hormones. I saw my compliant boy turn into someone who attempted suicide; thankfully by weak means and no harm was done. Unfortunately, it was years later that he shared with me about this attempt so I couldn’t seek help for him, again. He began to get into fights at school, torment his younger sister, fight with me over every little thing, and become someone I didn’t recognize.

In high school Tad started hanging around students that smoked pot and who knows what else. Of course, most of what I know about his teen years came out much after high school. So why do I share all of this old story with others. As I process much about my son and his short life here on earth, I sense a huge nudge from God to share about Tad’s story as it relates to my story.

With a string of choices that Tad made, my life has been altered; not only by giving birth to him and co-raising him, but for the rest of my life here on earth. Out of protection of others I will not share at this time publicly all the details of Tad’s life; however, I will share that he learned first hand about having to deal with the consequences of his choices. Consequences were something that I; through his growing up years, couldn’t get him to comprehend. As an adult, he learned rather quickly how his choices led to things that he would regret down the road. Not only that, but those choices also impacted others around him.

Tad became a daddy to our wonderful Emmett at the young age of 19, without a way to financially support him.

Tad got his GED because he didn’t finish high school and didn’t want to go through adult education.

Tad quit college before he finished.

Tad attempted for years to self-medicate to battle the thoughts in his mind.

Tad was tormented every day by the choices that he made through his life.

Tad died at the age of 22 driving his dad’s Harley Davidson motorcycle; leaving his; then three year old, son to grow up without his daddy. (This accident was not his fault; he was hit by someone who ran a red light.)

My sweet happy baby boy was created by God for a purpose and God had a plan for his life. Tad brought his mama smiles, laughs, and great hugs. He also brought me along on the journey of his choices because they also impacted my life, my story. His story is part of my story. I thank God that Tad and I are both part of His Story!

Through the years since Tad’s passing, I have been thankful for the signs that God made sure were in place so that I could know that I will see my son again when I reach Heaven.

Here’s my prayer that I am inclined to share; only God knows why it is important for me to share this publicly.

Heavenly Father,

You gave Tad to his father and I for a season. That season was shorter than I expected but I so appreciate the love, laughs, and joy that you gave to me through my years of being Tad’s ma’. Oh how I hated that he called me ma’ but now I miss it so! I am so thankful to You for the miraculous way You worked in Tad’s life in turning him back to You in the last year and a half of his life here on earth. Thank you for the fabulous day as a family that You gave to us before he went to be with You in Heaven! Thank You for bringing me to a point that I can share with others about my story that includes Tad’s story! Lord God, You know how my heart aches and the tears sometimes flow because I miss Tad so. You also know better than I do the torment that Tad experienced every day because of the choices that he made earlier in his life. Jesus, as much as I miss Tad, I am glad that I can know that he is with You in perfection. Selfishly I want him with me but I would rather he be with You, the Savior of his soul. I love You, Lord God.

In Jesus Name I pray! Amen.

Why A Blog

Why am I starting to blog? I have come to a point in my life where I am asking myself and God what good is the knowledge of my life experiences going to do if I do not share it with others? I have heard over and over from young people that they want to make their own mistakes and not learn from the mistakes of others; well okay, I think I can understand that but I think it might be an option to learn from the trials and tribulations of those gone before and not repeat the same goofs and just plain stupid mistakes. So, here I go on this journey of sharing what my life experiences and my choices have taught me.

Most recently, my hubby and I were doing a video Scripture study that centered around The Prodigal Son in Luke 15. By the end of the video, I was near tears considering the potential heart and life damage that can happen to the siblings of ‘prodigal children.’ They are; at times, left in the shadows to watch in fear of what their sibling will do next, just hoping to get some of their parent’s attention. What if they are so used to being in the shadows that it has become the norm? How will this affect them as adults? Will there be consequences from the ‘prodigal child’s’ choices that alters the siblings life? I have seen this personally and it can be like shackles around the ankles of the ‘prodigal’ and the sibling(s) and the parents. Being a parent is the hardest job I have experienced and I know that I have done the best I can; however, in my more mature years have realized that when I was a young parent I had no idea how my choices from those; and my teen years, would impact my children. Do we ever stop and think about how our choices will impact other people; especially those we love and have been entrusted to care for?

This realization can be difficult. Okay, so I have messed up as a parent; what can I do about it now that my kiddos have been raised? In Scripture I have learned that when I mess up I need to admit my goof and ask God for forgiveness and He will forgive me. I have decided that this is what I will do in my family when I realize that I have messed up; I will admit to them that I goofed up and that I am truly sorry for any hurt I have caused them. I have also decided that I can release those in my past that have hurt me. This is a whole other post.

Blessings to You!

Hope's Table

What do we do with Life Experiences?

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