Kind of checked out today. It was extremely nice. My husband came home to find me sitting on the couch eating, no, not bon bons, but popcorn with M&M's (for the sweet/salty effect) and watching "Are you smarter than a fifth grader?" (which, I will have to say, I am not.)
It's nice to check out of life every once in awhile. I must say, it's not easy when two little ones are running around the house (or is that running the house?) Anyway, for some reason the kids decided to play quietly in their rooms for awhile - an hour or more to be exact. Don't know what got into them, but I took full advantage of the peace and quiet and indulged myself.
It's not easy for me to take a break. I always feel there's something I need to be doing, which, of course, is usually the case. We are so busy anymore, aren't we? Running here and there, doing this, that, and the other thing. Why is it so hard to just rest sometimes?
I like the story of Mary and Martha. When I was little, I remember thinking, 'I will never be like Martha.' After all, Martha was just plain silly. I mean, who would be working so hard when Jesus was there and she could sit down and chat with him for awhile? Well, when I was little it was easy to be more like Mary. I really didn't have that much to do; ride my bike, hang out with friends, clean my room every once in a great while. No, life was pretty easy all in all.
But on my way to becoming a grown-up, things changed. Life got more complicated, more complex. And the older I got, the more I had to do. Like a balloon, my days just filled up and filled up and filled up. The more I had to do, the less time I felt I had to rest. Suddenly, as a grown-up, I was identifyng more with Martha. I understood why she was "worried and upset about many things." I got why she was so irritated with her sister.
I'd like to say that I'm so much wiser now, that I've learned how to be more Mary-ish these days. But the truth is that each day there is a Mary/Martha struggle going on inside of me. That's when I try to remember the wisdom of creation. Each day was set aside for something specific to be created; not too much, not too little- just the right amount of stuff created each day. All in good time, all in good order. And then, when it was all said and done, what did God do? He rested. I'm sure he didn't have to (he is God, after all.) But, I think he was setting an example for us. Yes, work is important. But I think, in its own right, rest is equally important. A time to relax, rejuvenate, reflect; who couldn't do with a little more of these things in their life?
So, find some time to be more Mary-ish this weekend, and I'll see you back here next week.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Hope
Oh, the joy of spring. The kids are outside playing, and, from where I am, I can watch their every move. So much better than putting them in front of the TV while I write!
Today's topic: my struggles with bipolar
I am much more stable than I used to be. It wasn't until I was 31 that I was diagnosed and my treatment plan began. Life before my diagnosis was pretty miserable. I knew there was something wrong with me, but I honestly didn't know what. Somedays were a complete struggle. Depression was the worst - still is. From dragging myself out of bed, to going through the motions of the day, to the time when my head hit the pillow again, each day was so difficult. If I were to describe what it's like to be depressed, it's like carrying a ball and chain around with you wherever you go. Yes, you can still function. But it takes that much more effort to carry on. Somedays it just didn't seem worth the fight. There were many days when I could easily have pulled the covers over my head and stayed in bed all day long.
Admitting this is hard, but I think it's important to put it all out there. I did contemplate suicide many times. I always say that I'm so glad to have faith. Because of it, I knew that ending my life would be so very wrong. God showed me that I would hurt so many people, and that, if my attempt failed, the road to recovery would be very difficult. Ultimately, I think what held me together was hope.
I hoped that someday things would be better. I hoped that life wouldn't always be so painful. I hoped that somewhere along the way the struggle to function would come to an end; that I would come out clean on the other side. And you know what? I have. No, life isn't pain-free. I still have my difficult days, but they're nothing compared to what I used to face. So, if you feel like the struggle you're burdened with will never come to an end - hold on to hope. It will never let you down. Because, in God's hands, hope never disappoints.
Romans 5: 3-5 Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not dissapoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit whom he has given us.
Today's topic: my struggles with bipolar
I am much more stable than I used to be. It wasn't until I was 31 that I was diagnosed and my treatment plan began. Life before my diagnosis was pretty miserable. I knew there was something wrong with me, but I honestly didn't know what. Somedays were a complete struggle. Depression was the worst - still is. From dragging myself out of bed, to going through the motions of the day, to the time when my head hit the pillow again, each day was so difficult. If I were to describe what it's like to be depressed, it's like carrying a ball and chain around with you wherever you go. Yes, you can still function. But it takes that much more effort to carry on. Somedays it just didn't seem worth the fight. There were many days when I could easily have pulled the covers over my head and stayed in bed all day long.
Admitting this is hard, but I think it's important to put it all out there. I did contemplate suicide many times. I always say that I'm so glad to have faith. Because of it, I knew that ending my life would be so very wrong. God showed me that I would hurt so many people, and that, if my attempt failed, the road to recovery would be very difficult. Ultimately, I think what held me together was hope.
I hoped that someday things would be better. I hoped that life wouldn't always be so painful. I hoped that somewhere along the way the struggle to function would come to an end; that I would come out clean on the other side. And you know what? I have. No, life isn't pain-free. I still have my difficult days, but they're nothing compared to what I used to face. So, if you feel like the struggle you're burdened with will never come to an end - hold on to hope. It will never let you down. Because, in God's hands, hope never disappoints.
Romans 5: 3-5 Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not dissapoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit whom he has given us.
Monday, April 4, 2011
much ado about everything
Been thinking about what I've been writing in my blog lately. Much of it centers on God, and I often use verses in the bible to make a point. So, I wondered today - should I be sharing more about my bipolar and less about the God part of my life. But, you know what I decided? If it were not for my faith, if it were not for God, I would NEVER have made it this far in life. He is my rock when everything else fails, and I can't help but write about him. So, if you expected more about bipolar - I apologize. I'll write about that, too. But be prepared to expect lots of "God talk" in my posts. Just warning ya!;)
Anyway, potty training is going suprisingly well. She's mostly getting the hang of it. Other than the occassional three-year-old tantrum, she's pretty willing to go in the toilet. Yay!
My issue of pottying (sorry, but I'm into that term now) is getting better. Slowly, but surely. Yesterday, I was feeling pretty stupid. I mean, who can't sit on the toilet and pee. How ridiculous is that. But, I stopped listening to the Liar and thought about what God says about me. Felt better after that. It's a battle in my mind, sometimes, and I have to decide what I'm going to listen to - the lies or the truth. Lies are easier to believe, easier to give into. But, in the words of Jesus himself, the truth sets me free.
2 Timothy 1:7 (NLT) For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love and self-discipline.
Be encouraged friends and have a great week. I'll try to write more as the spirit moves (HA!)
Anyway, potty training is going suprisingly well. She's mostly getting the hang of it. Other than the occassional three-year-old tantrum, she's pretty willing to go in the toilet. Yay!
My issue of pottying (sorry, but I'm into that term now) is getting better. Slowly, but surely. Yesterday, I was feeling pretty stupid. I mean, who can't sit on the toilet and pee. How ridiculous is that. But, I stopped listening to the Liar and thought about what God says about me. Felt better after that. It's a battle in my mind, sometimes, and I have to decide what I'm going to listen to - the lies or the truth. Lies are easier to believe, easier to give into. But, in the words of Jesus himself, the truth sets me free.
2 Timothy 1:7 (NLT) For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love and self-discipline.
Be encouraged friends and have a great week. I'll try to write more as the spirit moves (HA!)
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Perfectly Perfect
I've been struggling with a positive self-concept since the day I was born. I probably came out of my mom's womb wailing because I didn't have the perfect nose. So I guess this idea of being perfect is still rolling around inside my brain.
A book of the Bible that I've been thinking a lot about lately is the Song of Songs. Really a hard book to understand, but if you take the time to look into it, it's quite beautiful. One verse that has become a particular favorite is Song of Songs 4:7 You are so beautiful, my beloved, so perfect in every part. (NLT) There's that word perfect again. But for some reason, in this verse, I'm glad it's the word that's chosen - perfect. What must that be like to be viewed by God as being perfect, not kind of okay, not tolerable, not just good, but perfect. Perfect to the very fiber of my being.
In my last post I looked into this idea of perfect versus good, writing about how hung up I get on trying to be perfect. But in this case it's not me who's hung up on perfect - it's God. He's calling me perfect, not just perfect, but perfect in every part. And lest you think me bold to say that God thinks I'm perfect, take a look at another verse. Hebrews 10:14 because by one sacrifice [Jesus] has made perfect forever those who are being made holy. Yes, I'm still a mess in many ways as anyone who reads this blog can clearly testify to, but because of Jesus' sacrifice I'm now viewed by God as being perfect. No, not just viewed; I am perfect.
You know what? That kind of takes the pressure off. It kind of gives me hope. It definitely tells me that I am deeply and dearly loved. And you want to hear the best part of all of this; YOU, are so beautiful in his sight, too. YOU, are so perfect in every part, too. After all, this is a verse to share, not to hoard. It was meant for all of us from the very beginning - to be perfectly perfect. Not just now, but for eternity.
A book of the Bible that I've been thinking a lot about lately is the Song of Songs. Really a hard book to understand, but if you take the time to look into it, it's quite beautiful. One verse that has become a particular favorite is Song of Songs 4:7 You are so beautiful, my beloved, so perfect in every part. (NLT) There's that word perfect again. But for some reason, in this verse, I'm glad it's the word that's chosen - perfect. What must that be like to be viewed by God as being perfect, not kind of okay, not tolerable, not just good, but perfect. Perfect to the very fiber of my being.
In my last post I looked into this idea of perfect versus good, writing about how hung up I get on trying to be perfect. But in this case it's not me who's hung up on perfect - it's God. He's calling me perfect, not just perfect, but perfect in every part. And lest you think me bold to say that God thinks I'm perfect, take a look at another verse. Hebrews 10:14 because by one sacrifice [Jesus] has made perfect forever those who are being made holy. Yes, I'm still a mess in many ways as anyone who reads this blog can clearly testify to, but because of Jesus' sacrifice I'm now viewed by God as being perfect. No, not just viewed; I am perfect.
You know what? That kind of takes the pressure off. It kind of gives me hope. It definitely tells me that I am deeply and dearly loved. And you want to hear the best part of all of this; YOU, are so beautiful in his sight, too. YOU, are so perfect in every part, too. After all, this is a verse to share, not to hoard. It was meant for all of us from the very beginning - to be perfectly perfect. Not just now, but for eternity.
Monday, March 28, 2011
taking off the mask
I'm a perfectionist. Like, I mean to the core. Chances are, once I've finished writing this, I will read and reread it until I've got it to my version of "perfect." Which, of course, it will not be (especially when it comes to commas). But I will give it a valiant effort nonetheless. I've been thinking about perfectionism this morning, wondering why we, as a society, seem obsessed with it. Is it possible that anyone is perfect or are we seeking the unattainable. I know I often look at someone who appears to have it all together. I feel envious and wonder, will I ever be that "perfect"? Well, I have to say that after thirty-seven years of living on this planet I have yet to create the perfect me. Any illusion I give off that I am perfect is just that, an illusion. Much like a magician, I can perform my best tricks. But in the end, I know in my heart that these "tricks" aren't fooling anyone - least of all myself.
When I was in college I lived with a gal who, when we prayed together, would often ask God to help us take off our "masks." I think of that phrase whenever I try to create the perfect me - perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect smile. Who am I trying to kid? Every other person on the planet knows what I am often reluctant to admit to myself, that I'm not perfect. So if that's the case, why do I keep this mask on? Why not take it off and show myself, warts and all. These days I'm trying to be more vulnerable, share more of my struggles, ask for help when I need it. But it's never easy.
When it comes to this idea of being perfect, I think back to the story of creation - pre-fall, and never once after God had created something, did he ever delcare it to be "perfect". Instead, in my translation, it says that he called everything good. Fascinating isn't it? God is holy, completely without sin, perfect to the core of his being. But he doesn't use perfect in talking of his creation. He calls it good, even very good, but never perfect. And you know what? When I look at a tree I see that, in a pure definition of the word, it isn't perfect. I mean it's not like a tree has perfect symmetry, equal number of branches on every side. But I think it's beautiful because it's not perfect. I like that the branches stick out everywhich way. I like that there aren't the same number of leaves on each branch. I even like the scars that show the tree is a mighty warrior- standing up against the test of time. And it makes me glad, because, ultimately, I don't think God wants me to be hung up on pefectionism. So I think, for now, I'll pursue goodness. I like the sound of that word better anyway.
When I was in college I lived with a gal who, when we prayed together, would often ask God to help us take off our "masks." I think of that phrase whenever I try to create the perfect me - perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect smile. Who am I trying to kid? Every other person on the planet knows what I am often reluctant to admit to myself, that I'm not perfect. So if that's the case, why do I keep this mask on? Why not take it off and show myself, warts and all. These days I'm trying to be more vulnerable, share more of my struggles, ask for help when I need it. But it's never easy.
When it comes to this idea of being perfect, I think back to the story of creation - pre-fall, and never once after God had created something, did he ever delcare it to be "perfect". Instead, in my translation, it says that he called everything good. Fascinating isn't it? God is holy, completely without sin, perfect to the core of his being. But he doesn't use perfect in talking of his creation. He calls it good, even very good, but never perfect. And you know what? When I look at a tree I see that, in a pure definition of the word, it isn't perfect. I mean it's not like a tree has perfect symmetry, equal number of branches on every side. But I think it's beautiful because it's not perfect. I like that the branches stick out everywhich way. I like that there aren't the same number of leaves on each branch. I even like the scars that show the tree is a mighty warrior- standing up against the test of time. And it makes me glad, because, ultimately, I don't think God wants me to be hung up on pefectionism. So I think, for now, I'll pursue goodness. I like the sound of that word better anyway.
Monday, March 21, 2011
toilets, and potty chairs, and air vents - oh my!
Potty Training - Day 1
6:30 am - Wake up bright and early! (Lay in bed as long as possible dreading the fact that pt-day has finally arrived.)
6:35 am - Take a very soggy pull-up off a little bottom and throw the smelly, disgusting thing in the trash. (Are we finally done with those nasty things?)
7:30 am - First accident in the bathroom (Good, no carpeting, I can handle this.)
8:00 am - First successful attempt at pottying in the toilet. (Yay, high fives all around.)
9:00 am - Drag a screaming, kicking three-year-old to the toilet. (She goes; it was worth the fight.)
10:00 am - Dress the cooperative (not) little girl in her favorite dress, telling her that if she doesn't go in the toilet her pretty dress will get all wet.
The rest of the morning - accident free (woo-hoo) the Pretty Dress Scheme worked! (Yes, I know - I'm brilliant.)
12:00 pm - Fill the girl with chocolate milk hoping her little bladder will cooperate so that she will have to "go" before nap time
12:45 pm - Chocolate Milk Scheme not so successful.
1:00 pm - Nap time. (Yes!)
3:15 pm - Nap time is over. (Boo!)
3:45 pm - Discover that my daughter has just peed into one of our air vents. (I thought it was a little suspicious that she was sitting directly on the vent, but figured she was just enjoying the hot air coming up.)
3:46 pm - Note to self: Keep her away from all vents in the house from now on.
4:30 pm - Go for a bike ride. May as well, it's probably the only time she will get to ride a bike naked from the waist down. (Don't worry, she was wearing a dress so that none of her "private parts" were showing. I'm not that bad of a mom.)
5:15 pm - Fourth accident of the day, in her brother's room no less. (That's all right. He's christened it a time or two late at night when he was too groggy to make it to the bathroom.)
6:00 pm - First bowel movement in the potty chair. (Smells nasty when I dump it, but I'll take it any day over wiping the squishy stuff off her little bottom. Sorry, TMI?)
7:30 pm - Prepare for bed. (Unsuccessful attempt at pottying one last time.)
8:00 pm - Put night-time underwear (that's code for pull-ups) on her (not me), and breathe a sigh of relief that Day 1 is over!
Taking a Break
I may be taking a hiatus from writing this week as I'm beginning to potty train my three-year-old. Will let you know how it goes. Hoping it goes well, but if it doesn't at least I'll have some good stories to share!
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