No Getting Weary...

I have anxiety. I have been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder which sorta compounds my anxiety at times. I also am not a runner. I think those are the three flaws that are needed for this blog post. Super way to start! Not very positive, is it?

Let's focus on the anxiety. I worry about everything! I always have. And I'm sure I've written about it before. I remember being five years old on the top of the diving board at swimming lessons chewing my fingernails off knowing that my turn to jump into the water below was coming next. Or the stress and anxiety I would feel the night before a final or a mid-term in college. Yikes! I get butterflies in my stomach just thinking about making the trudge to the chemistry building for midterms. Blah...

I have been doing pretty good with breathing and turning to God for help with my anxiety and things are getting better. But I have one anxiety that I haven't been able to get on top of. Running! So. Much. Anxiety! I'm not sure where it comes from. I've always been heavy, but I used to be muscular and athletic. I was a three sport letter winner for much of my high school years. I was off-side hitter in volleyball. I was a lefty playing basketball for many years. I threw the discus and shot put in track. I played volleyball until my senior year at the University of Washington as part of an intramural team. And then...stress, no time, grad school and soon I just didn't do anything. I'd try every once in a while. 

But recently, I have found my drive again. I'm exercising daily and feeling so much better. Except for the anxiety I have about running. I think it has to do with a fear of failure.  I'm working through this Couch to 5K app and it tells me when to walk, when to run, how long to walk, how long to run. And each week as I conquer another set of intervals, and move foreword to a longer running time, I panic and freak out. Last week as I increased to week six I saw that I was expected to run for eight minutes...twice. Wait...what?!  Eight minutes? I can't do that! That's too long! I'll never be able to do it! (Obviously I'm really good at the positive self-talk that I preach to my kiddos all the time.)

Well, I did it last week. I'm running more than I'm walking, and I've finished enough of the app that I'm halfway to being able to run a 5K. As I was thinking about my anxiety, losing sleep over the number that's on my app for the next morning, I smiled. Each week I'm terrified to wake up and run whatever my app tells me to run! But each week I'm able to do it! I have risen to the challenge each and every week so far. I was panicked when it increased to two minute intervals, never thinking I could run it. I couldn't believe they expected me to run for three minutes solid. Five minutes?? What were they thinking?! And then eight minutes...which I accomplished last week. And cried when I did it. 

Over the last few weeks, I have had a connection to eagles. Every lunch at work when I walk, there's an eagle that circles above me the whole time I'm on my walk. As I'm walking I have been reminded by my Heavenly Father of the Bible verse, Isaiah 40:31. "But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles," Now there's a comma there, but for some reason every time I would read the verse I would stop there. Smiling that God was sending me an eagle to remind me that He was renewing my strength, both physically and spiritually. 

This morning as I was running on the treadmill, already having anxiety about my running for next week, I heard His voice say "Would you please read the rest of that verse? THAT'S the part I wanted you to hear!!" So when I was finished with my workout, I pulled my Bible out of my drawer and read the rest of that verse: "They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint."

Ahh! There is the message in my mess. I have been absolutely panicked about my runs. Worried that I could never run for three minutes, five minutes, eight minutes...when all along I have had someone right by my side to help me run the race and not grow weary!! I have succeeded with my runs every week for ten weeks now. Each week adding more distance and more strength and more minutes. Each week getting stronger and faster and closer to my goal. And I will continue to be just fine because of His promises in Isaiah. I will run and not grow weary, as long as I have faith in His plan for me. In His promise for me...

The eagle that circles on my lunchtime walk is my reminder of the beauty of God's creation, but he is also a reminder of God's promise to renew my strength and to keep me from growing weary. Both on the treadmill and in my spiritual race. So, I will wake up with new hope, new belief, new relief in knowing that I'm going to finish my race! I'm going to make it to the next set of intervals, whether those are ten minutes, twelve minutes, even fifteen minutes! Or whether it's God's next step in my spiritual life. 

I will continue on the training journey that I have followed so far, both physically and spiritually. And my strength will be renewed each day! Amen!

Because of You...

The blame game is an easy trap to fall into. It starts early in life. Every morning I have playground duty at school I feel like I'm witness to the blame game. Little kids start yelling and pushing each other. I go to break it up. They both are yelling "he started it" or "she called me stupid." It is somehow an ingrained behavior to point fingers at the person next to you. It happens with our siblings. It happens with our peers. It happens. 

I am guilty of the blame game for sure. Not necessarily to someone's face, but over the years I have found myself blaming a whole string of people for things that have happened. Sitting here thinking about those things, I can hear the phrases that I have thought or said. 

Because of you I am not a confident person. 

Because of you I'm not going to medical school. 

Because of you I have a hard time trusting people. 

Because of you I'm afraid at night. 

Because of you I feel like a failure. 

Because of you I'm in debt. 

These have all run through my head at different times. And the sad thing? I even started having those sorts of thoughts towards God. Because of you I don't have a husband. Because of you my girls are going to grow up without a Father. Because of you my life course has been altered several times and I feel lost and alone. It's hard to admit that. I'm sure I'm not the first person, or the last to have those sorts of thoughts. I'm not proud of them. But I am proud to say that I have changed. 

When you change your heart and start to press deeper into our Heavenly Father, your perspective changes. Your outlook is different. You start to see little blessings everywhere. Even the negative things that happen you can look at and find the message in the mess. And it brings peace and joy to your heart. It brings a new sense of calm in a world filled with anxiety. It gives you a sense of purpose in this world. 

I have been through a lot in my 38 years on this Earth. Things that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Things that I'm still working through with an amazing therapist and by the grace of God. I walk each day with newly-opened eyes to the beauty and peace that this life has to offer. 

I'm still playing the blame game. But the messages I'm getting and releasing are so much better. 

Lord, because of you I am a survivor.  Because of you my soul wounds are being healed. Because of you I have a new-found purpose in this life. Because of you my chains are broken and I am free. Because of you I have defeated inner demons and real demons that have tormented me - but no more! Because of you I have victory over sin and death and the devil. Because of you I will have eternal life. 

Because of Him, I have found true peace and true happiness and so many earthly blessings. And I believe that He placed me on those paths for a reason. I have found my message in my mess. I know my purpose in going through the things we have been through. I get to help others. I have been placed for the purpose of bringing others to see the light that I have seen. Laying bloody and broken and with soul wounds was not the end of my story, but rather an awesome new beginning. A chance to rise out of the ashes, dust myself off, and do great things for Him and His kingdom. So I share this with you this morning, and hope that you too will find your message in your mess. And if you can't I hope that you can come to me and I will help! I will share the blessings that I have found. The peace that has found me. 

Don't play the blame game! Don't blame others and don't blame yourself and don't blame God!  Ask for God's plan for your life and ask for His help in dusting you off and finding your purpose on this earth, the purpose behind your story. We all have one! Ask Him to help you figure out where you're supposed to go with it! 

Thank you, Father! Because of you...

No Time for That...

Yesterday at work, I was reading a story with one of my students. It was an Arthur book and I was having her practice her articulation sounds while she was reading. I was taking data on the sounds as she said them, writing pluses and minuses as she spoke each sound and taking notes while she was reading. When we got to the end I had her take an Accelerated Reader (AR) online reading test on the story. As I started to log her off, I asked her if it would be ok if I checked something really quick. I quickly typed in the name of the book that I had read with Amelia the night before, Mae the Panda Fairy. I wanted to see if it was an AR book so that Amelia could take the test on it at her school the next day. Then I asked if I could check one more book, a Magic Treehouse book. My student asked "Does Amelia just store up books before she takes the tests on them?" I explained to her that we had read each of those books in the two previous nights. My student's mouth dropped open. "You read that fairy book in one night?" I answered that we had. And then she asked, "And Tonight on the Titanic?" I replied that we had read that the night before together. "In one night?" I smiled and said that, yes, we had read each of those books in one night. That we really enjoy reading together and sometimes when the book is really good, we can't stop reading. She looked me in the eyes and said, "My mom does not have that kind of time for me."

My heart broke. I sat there and pictured their household and my poor little student sitting alone in the corner of her bedroom, most likely playing some electronic device...alone. And I began to judge that family. How could they? They have these precious gifts given to them by God and they don't have time to read a simple book to this little girl. And then I stopped and my breath quickly left me. I was ashamed. For that little girl could have very well been my little girls in certain snapshots in time. 

My closest friends know. They know my struggle. They know that I have literally been to hell and back over the last few years. They know that it took every ounce of energy I had in my being to make it to work and look as normal as possible. They know that I sat at my desk at work and worked with children while inside my soul was shattered with grief. My brain was fried with seizures and seizure medications. And when I came home I had given everyone else's children my all, and my own were not as lucky. 

My mom and dad know that many nights I would call them to give the girls a bath, and put them to bed because I didn't feel well. Marilyn knows that sometimes we lived out of piles of laundry because that was the last thing on my mind. Michelle knows that toys would pile up on the floor throughout our house and I didn't have the strength to pick them up. But that I could lay on the floor in the pile of toys next to my children and think that I was being a good mom and spending quality time with my children. Melody knows I walked through days like a zombie, summoning the strength to smile and act like I had it all together in front of others. But honestly? Grief is exhausting. It physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually hurts. And also suffering with uncontrolled seizures added another layer. And then add in that being that vulnerable opens the door to demons to come in and suck away whatever peace and joy you have left. Who am I to judge?

Who are any of us to judge? I know that talking to other moms I am not alone in my inadequacies. We all have those moments where we just can't. But I judge every day! Like yesterday with the mom that doesn't read a whole book to her daughter! Or talking to a teacher about how horrible it is that this kid never does his homework. If he just had a mom who cared. Or the little ones who come to school every day wearing the same sweatshirt that just gets dirtier and dirtier. I've stood with colleagues and talked about "those moms" when in reality, there's a pretty blurry line between "those moms" and me in certain points of my life. In certain points of all our lives, I imagine. 

And yet, our children love us. Dote on us. Want nothing but our love and approval. And even though I was a hot mess for many years of their little lives, my two beautiful daughters still love me and want me and depend on me and think that I am the best mom in the whole world.

I  am lucky! I get a second chance! A second chance to love the two little gifts that God has given me. A second chance to read to them and do homework with them. A second chance to start over and make up for lost time. 

Many times I cry and feel guilty about the existence I was giving my babies. I feel terrible that I wasn't always present with my girls in every second of every day. I grieve over the lost years from the past, when my babies were so young and I was in such turmoil. But I can't!

My Heavenly Father was with me for each and every second of those darkest days, holding me in His loving arms and carrying me through the days I couldn't walk myself. He was with my babies, keeping them safe and warm. Sending us earthly angels to take care of all of us. Friends and family that were there for our darkest hours, our most difficult moments. 

I could dwell on the past. I could continue to feel terribly about how non-functional I might have been in some of those moments. I could kick myself and never forgive myself the difficulties that we faced. But I am forgiven. And it's time to embrace that forgiveness and be the best I can currently be for my sweet girls. 

Don't judge! We are all fighting battles. Grief. Pain. Addiction. Illness. Divorce. Rape. Suicide. Death. Cancer. I'd like to believe, besides in cases of abuse and neglect, we do the very best we can as parents. And if we have moments where we are not our best, we ask for help from our Heavenly Father, forgive ourselves and move forward. 

We could hold it over ourselves forever. Judge other parents as we struggle on our own. Beat ourselves up for our past mistakes. But why would we do that? No time for that...

All or Nothing...

There was a conversation a few weeks ago in my Weight Watchers meeting. We talked about all of the self-defeating things that we do to sabotage our weight loss journey. There's the "I'll start paying attention to what I eat on Monday" attitude. And Monday never quite comes... Or there's the "well I blew it at lunch today so I should probably just keep eating for today" attitude. And soon that logic is carrying you all the way to 280 pounds or more. But there was one in particular that resonated with me. One that I think has sabotaged me on many journeys, not only to getting healthy but other areas in my life. The all or nothing principle. I am a goal oriented person and once I have a goal in mind, I will accomplish it. But, if there's a point where I go off plan or a point where something doesn't go the way I think it should, I get mad and throw in the towel. It's all or nothing. Either I don't eat any ice cream, or I'm going to eat the whole 1/2 gallon. Either I'm going to run the entire mile at the fastest speed possible, or I'm not going to run at all. This has been my sabotaging factor in the past. 

With this last round of getting more fit and losing weight, I have worked hard at not making it an all or nothing. I have allowed myself the occasional Big Mac. I still eat chips. In fact, when I finish this blog post, I am ordering pizza! Because it's about small changes. Moderation. Not giving in to the all or nothing that usually gets me. 

And the fitness portion of my journey is also changing. It's not all or nothing. I signed up for a Couch to 5K program, but was afraid that I would be so stuck on the structure of the routine that I would quit when I couldn't do the next step. It's an 8-week program, to take you from being a couch potato to running a 5K, which is 3.107 miles. I'm thinking that their couch potato didn't include an almost 280 pound spud. But rather than throw in the towel when it got too difficult, I've repeated weeks. I'm on week eight right now. I should be running a 5K, right? I just finished week four, and got my "badge" for being halfway there. I'm halfway to running a 5K. And I still sobbed with tears of joy and pride when I saw that badge. Small changes. Running or walking no matter how tired I am. Not giving in to the all or nothing that usually gets me. 

The same principle could be applied to the spiritual journey I am also currently on. All or nothing. What should I be doing? I should be studying my Bible every day. Taking communion. Going to church every Sunday. Walking through my day in prayer. I should be asking myself if the activities that I participate in are Godly. Are they good for my mind and my soul and my spirit? I should be in constant prayer and conversation with God. I should be fasting and cleansing my life and following the commandments. I should not be swearing at others when I'm in traffic. I should not be listening to certain types of music. I should not be watching shows that I watch.

So, I am not doing any of those things right. I don't pray when I should. I really look forward to sleeping in on the occasional Sunday instead of going to church. And the way traffic is lately there is no way that I'm not going to be contributing to a swear jar if we had one of those. 

I should just give up, right? All or nothing, right? God expects perfection in following Him and I am failing. So Nevermind!

Wrong! God expects sinners! God expects me to swear. God knows I love Blink 182. God knows that the scandals and sex lives of Grey's Anatomy make me smile. He knows that I am perfectly imperfect. I forget to read my Bible. I often run to friends instead of turning to Him first in troubles. That's what this season of Lent is all about. Sinners. Imperfect, swearing, Bible-forgetting sinners.

Does this give me free license to do whatever I want to do? No. It shouldn't. It should help me pause to think about what I need to be doing better. Amelia and I have had many conversations about this. The shows that are available to children these days are terrible. Scooby Doo isn't the same show I watched when I was a kid. There are scary, demonic characters that make even me uncomfortable. So Amelia and I have started discussing these things out loud. "What would God think about you watching this show? Is it something that He would want for you?" I was satisfied with this method, until my smart 8-year-old turned the tables on me the other day. "What would God think about you watching Gray's Anatomy?" I paused. There are certainly many themes and many shows that are not pleasing to God. So, where is the line?

In prayers and conversations with God, I have come to the conclusion that faith does not have to be all or nothing. It shouldn't be! All or nothing sets you up to sabotage even your spiritual journey. I have made so many amazing changes in my faith and prayer life. I am proud of the changes I've made and I'm at peace with where I am going in my faith. I do pause to think "is this something that will honor God or bring me further in my walk with Him" and sometimes the answer is honestly no. Do I do it anyways? For now? I do! And I know that God loves me and forgives me as the perfect sinful mess that I am. I continue to take those baby steps forward with Him. I continue to grow in my faith. And I continue to learn about this journey and this process. 

It can't be all or nothing! That sets us up for failure and negative feelings about faith and religion. Do the best that you can. Have faith! Repent your sins! Walk with Him! Be kind! Read your Bible and pray.  Make little changes. Don't sprint out of the gate for this race. Run for endurance and run to win!

I'm still going to watch Grey's Anatomy. My girls are still going to enjoy dressing up as wicked witches and pirates and dragons. And I can't wait to read Harry Potter books to them one day. But we will always bring it back to our Heavenly Father. And how He is our Lord and Savior and that we give all honor and praise to Him alone. Growing in our faith! Not all or nothing. But baby steps to success!

Pieces of Me...

Tonight in my quiet time with Father God, I cried through most of it. This isn't an odd occurrence, as I often cry in my deepest moments with Him. And the conversations that I have had with Him lately have been incredibly powerful. He has been stripping me down to my core and has been walking me step by step through my past. I almost close my eyes and watch Him work, bit by bit, picking out the pieces of my heart and slowly, gently, putting the pieces of my heart back together. Sliding each piece back to where it came from, making it shiny and new. It is hard and it is painful. Reliving the moments that have brought me to my knees. Seeing painful parts of my college years and Brian and difficulties with friends and family and demons and all of the moments that have inflicted so much pain on my heart. But I'm not afraid. And I don't get overwhelmed when I see these things. I know that God is showing me these moments, so I have the opportunity to see Him in each and every moment. As I replay painful episodes of my past where I was lost and in pain and suffering and being treated how no one should ever be treated, I see my Father, standing over me, protecting me, loving me, tears in His eyes, he was with me. And when I flashback to just a few years ago, a time that seems just like yesterday and forever ago all at the same time, He is there. Over my truck as I raced to Sequim to get what would be Brian's final words to me. Standing in between my friend Melody and me, holding us as she scooped me off of the floor from a puddle of tears as I realized he had hurt my baby girl. Walking with me and bringing me the ability to think so clearly in those first few moments, and bringing me back to who He needed me to be for my girls. Standing in the doorway of rooms that were filled with anger and fear and terror. Giving me solace in Him as I navigated through my schooling, trying to figure out how I was ever going to survive. He was there in the corner of my office as I reached for my phone to call for help, knowing I was going to have a seizure and knowing there was nothing I could do about it. I didn't see Him then. I didn't have hope then. I didn't know the plan that was unfolding in my life, and how that plan might impact my family. Or my parents. Or my friends.  Or my girls. Not knowing why we were walking down this path together. Searching for medical answers. Reeling in emotional pain. Lost and alone and hopeless. But now, walking through all those moments again, seeing Him at every turn. Seeing His hand in everything that has happened. Seeing Angels' wings covering me through every step...the light in my shadows. 

The girls and I walked to the castle park a few Saturdays ago. On our way there, we stopped on the side of Fairgrounds Road to look at the something in the ditch. It was a large mirror, broken into a million pieces. And as I was staring into the pieces, I heard my Father's voice. He told me to look closely. To look at the mirror. To look at the little, tiny shards of glass that covered the bottom of the ditch. All I could see was a useless mirror. Seven years of bad luck. Broken shards. I heard Father God's gentle laughter as He said "Look closer! See how the light hits the shards? See how even the tiniest scrap of glass is still functional. It's a mirror. It's job is to reflect. And no matter how broken it is, no matter how small the pieces are, it is still able to do its job. Just like you, my daughter. No matter how broken you are, no matter how worthless you think you are, you are still able to do your job for my kingdom. You are still able to do your job as a mother, as a friend, as my child!" I reached down and picked up a piece of the mirror. I looked into the glass and saw my own eyes, full of light and life that hasn't been there for a long time. I smiled, and dropped the glass back into the ditch, regretting my decision to not keep that shard ever since. A tangible reminder of a lesson from my Heavenly Father. 

What joy I have found! What joy fills my heart! What peace surrounds me, even as the world is crashing down all around me! For years, many many years, I have merely been surviving, walking through each day with my only goal to make it to the night where I could rest and be alone, only to then have it be my goal to survive the terror and loneliness of the night and see the light of morning. Praying once again that God would end my life. Not seeing my purpose or why He was keeping me here on this earth. What was my purpose here? Why was He leaving me here to suffer? He wasn't...He was guiding me to the point in life where He wanted me. He was choreographing my life's dance to the beautiful music that He conducted just for me. He was lining everything up just perfectly according to His plan. I am blessed that He stuck with His plan and not my plan. 

The horrible things that have happened in my life? I know exactly why they happened. He was there. He was with me in college, and with my family through the Brian mess, and with me when I was in despair.  In these visions that God is walking me through a light switch flipped on. A light switch that said that I have survived the unspeakable. I have held my faith together the best I could over the years and that I am finally seeing His reward for me. His presence in my life is my reward. Knowing that I am going to walk hand in hand with Him from this point forward and one day I will be in His heavenly kingdom! I'm never too broken for that! He is picking up my shards and putting me back together, one tiny piece at a time. And as He works on me, I work on me too. In prayer. In talks with Him. In reading my Bible. In pressing into Him deeper and deeper. I work on me, learning to simply be one with Him. To do His will for my life. To give myself and my girls a bright future, filled with love and joy and peace! No more broken shards! Only pieces of ourselves that give glory and honor to Him! Only pieces that do their job, reflect His love and grace and peace onto others. No more broken shards!