Getting healthy: Stop Comparing

I did it!! I stepped onto the scale. To be honest, I was a little nervous at first, not knowing what to expect but I figured that I need a baseline, right?! (And we allllll know that the scales at the doctor's office always add least 7-10 pounds, right? So my weight from last week's visit didn't "really" count).

I am not as far off as I thought I was but the hard facts, the number...well, they never lie.

Three days strong now...on my path to becoming healthy. I had many food successes yesterday and had a lot of inner-battles surrounding the snack drawer but overall, I am very pleased. I also had only two cups of coffee, one of which was DECAF! Yes, you read that right...can you believe it? Movement successes abounded yesterday & today too...I chased my kids, danced more when I played music. jogged on the treadmill this morning and found my fitbit (which is still not charged...on my list to do today). Spiritually: still trying to figure this one out. Maybe I should start by finding 10-15 minutes per day to just pray, maybe read? This goal seems doable.


HONEST CONFESSION:

I want to preface that this blog is (hopefully) not (seen as) a platform of my complaints, but rather encouragement for you and me for the sake of growth & for my personal accountablity (which, by the way is working!).

The start of this journey (months back) was rough. I saw other moms with two, three kids or more, looking fabulous. I was jealous. I did not have the time (what I am finding now it was really lack of motivation), to get my "smokin'-hot-momma body" back--(which by the way, at no point in my life have I actually, truthfully saw myself this way). I was comparing.

This journey is not about comparison.

It is rejoicing in the successes of others (and for myself, rejoicing in the small victories like drinking water with every meal yesterday) and realizing that we ALL have some type or insecurity/struggle--be it our physical health, our marriages, finances, balancing our work, traumatic birth experiences, loss of loved ones, complicated child/adulthoods or the pesky hair that grows on our chins (did I really just type that!?!). There is always something we want to strive towards changing yet we often forget to CELEBRATE the good stuff that is happening. So let us stop comparing. Lets start celebrating! (OH---sounds like a great party theme!).

Months back, I found find myself thinking that I was not good enough, strong enough or that somehow others have it figured out way better than I did (motherhood, working out, meal prep, ect.). But these thoughts are all false. I caution you: do not fall into this spirit of comparison...it will only hurt you deeply and take your eyes off all of the glorious things you are, you have and you do.

When I take a step back from my, "I am so alone, no one likes me and understands what I have gone through" mindset, I realize that who ever is reading this right now is dealing with something---maybe to the same degree, maybe more, maybe less, maybe something entirely different...regardless, we are all doing the best that we can do.

It is NOT about comparison. It is about encouragement!

A few weeks ago a friend suggested that we join a gym together. The first thought was, "Oh, no, she will now really see just how out of shape I am." This mindset has been with me since junior high or maybe even before: never show weakness, push through, fake it until you make it. I am glad I realized this about myself. It is okay to be weak (I said it!) in some areas...this is an opportunity to grow, improve and ENJOY the process. And enjoying it I have (at least on day three). :)

I hope this blog empowers you to enjoy where you are and moves you towards where you want to be. Until the next post!

Learning to See: VT- My Fears

How can you explain to someone who has lost a leg that they will be able to walk again? That it is actually possible to walk, run, jump. Perhaps go to places they previously were not able to go to due to a missing limb. How do you explain that performing daily activities could be easier, less complex, even less daunting then they are currently.

It might seem impossible. The accommodations and adaptations have become second nature to this person. Navigating through the world has become bearable. Pathways formed and an understanding, even a full acceptance, of these limitation are now just the norm of life. In some ways it seems more difficult to explore the vast options and possibilities that an artificial limb could bring.

This is the best way I can describe what I am sensing right now.

Is there really a different, perhaps better, way to view the life I engage with daily? What does it mean to see 3D and how is that different from how I see now? Is it possible for my eyes to really work together? Could there really be a day when I don't have to "pull-in" my right eye because someone doesn't know if I am look at them? Could it be a reality that I could ACTUALLY catch a ball? Or even see a fast moving baseball once the batter has hit it (with my current vision my eyes can't keep up with the ball so all I see is the initial contact and then players scrambling to catch what I presume is the baseball [or football])? Will there be a day when I can go see any movie, any time, regardless if it is 3D or not? Will I be able to unlearn the emotional stress my eyes have brought me as I drive to new locations or in the rain?

There are so many unknowns as I begin this journey. Is it really worth it? Will things really change?

I guess I will never know unless I try.

This is not a journey to be taken lightly. It will require a one-45 minute session every week for 6-12 months. It entails daily homework/visual exercises. It requires a financial sacrifice since my insurance does not cover this type of medical therapy. And in the midst of dealing with the medical problems with our youngest, is this the best time? Will I be able to fully commit? Will the outcome be worth it?

More than anything, it is humbling to admit that I cannot do something. It is humbling to learn to see in the same stages that my 7-month old is learning to see as his eyes develop in infancy.

It is scary to think about living in a world that is visually different than what I have known all my life. In my previous VT experience, my life was disrupted. It was just me, living alone in all of my singleness. I could "afford" to look stupid doing my daily exercises. I wasn't endangering anyone if I fumbled down the hallway, running into doors, or stumbling out of bed because I misjudged where the floor was. Now the stakes are higher. Can I afford these same type of "mishaps" with an infant or toddler on my hip? Am I emotionally strong enough to face the ridicule of my toddlers as I wear an eye patch around the house? Once my eyes begin to work together, what if my new 3D vision "clicks in" while I am driving my kids around and I become disoriented?

These fears are real.

After reading several accounts of adults who had monocular vision and completed vision therapy, they describe anywhere from 6 months to a year of re-learning how to live in their worlds after VT was complete. How I would love to talk with them and ask them if it was worth it. Some experienced my fear of having their 3D vision "click-in" at inopportune times. Others commented on taking leave from work or reducing their workload, even laying with eyes shut for most of the day, so that their eyes and minds could make sense of their new worlds or simply recover from the new stresses of using both eyes.

Up to this point in my life, I feel like I have been the medical exception to everything. Taking a new medication? Of course I will have EVERY side affect no matter how small. Going in for a medical procedure and there is a 1% chance of a complication happening...yup, that is me. I will experience it. This is yet another reason why I am so fearful of starting this journey. No one can predict how my brain and eyes will react (and at what rate) to this new therapy. Maybe I am making a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be. Maybe I am obsessing over it too much. I just don't know. It is exciting, scary and unknown all at the same time. I am curious, intrigued yet afraid.

So, the next step? I have an official exam in early December. At that point the doctor will have a better idea about the condition of my eyes and how drastic my monocular vision really is. We will hopefully discuss a treatment plan. Then the decision...should I begin VT and embrace all it might bring...the good, the bad, and the seeing.

Now, I wait. I pray. I seek God for direction. I give thanks to God and his use of Dr. Ford who performed my initial surgery to help me see when I was a toddler. I wonder. I ponder.

Just like you, I have no idea what the ending will be. If you are following me in this, I invite you to pray too. This is a big, scary leap I am about to voluntarily take. I hope I don't fall, fail or force myself into something just for the sake of trying it again. Yet if I don't try will I always wonder?

...Stay tuned. Next blog post after my exam in early December.

Learning to See: The Back Story

From birth I have never viewed life with binocular vision (seeing out of both eyes at the same time). My parents made this discovery when I was 2-years old. Having rearranged the furniture in the household, I suddenly began to run into things, cried often, become quickly agitated. My whole demeanor changed instantly. As a young mom, my mother knew something was wrong but in her youth many doctors did not believe her. At one point they even sent in a psychologist to have HER evaluated. I passed the typical vision tests and my case was quickly dismissed. Clearly, something was wrong with my mom and not me...was the thought of many of the doctors. My mother, age 18, however, kept persisting until she was finally referred to Dr. Robert Ford, an ophthalmologist in Chehalis, Washington. After a short exam he broke the news to my parents:

"Your 2 1/2 year old daughter is legally blind." 

I can only imagine the thoughts going through my parent's minds. Could she really be? How did we miss this? What now?

Up to that point in my life, my life was a series of routines: I got dressed the same way everyday, sat in the same chair at the dining room table, took a bath in the same order, I would easily snuggle into my mom for story time and "read" with her...everything was predictable until the furniture was moved.

Shortly after my diagnosis, I was taken to the hospital between the ages 2 1/2 and 3 for a surgical procedure in which one of my eye muscles would be shortened. The goal was to "restore" my vision from seeing blurbs and blurs to seeing actual shapes and outlines.

Even at that young age I remember being in the hospital...board stuck to my arm; watching "sleepy" cartoons (which I now presume they had me watch as they put me under). I remember the blue Care Bear blanket my grandmother brought me. It was blue with a blue satin ribbon at the top. On that blanket, I remember the brown Tenderheart Carebear with the red heart on his chest. I remember receiving the baby doll that cries when you flip it over onto its back...which I still have. I remember red curtains and the hospital bed with rails. I remember feeling confused as I laid in the hospital bed and looked up to see my grandma and mother looking down over me.

Although I do not recall the moment I saw actual images for the first time, the surgery was a success. I could see.

My parents worked hard at catching me up in terms of learning the world around me. For example, from birth my parents talked about the trees, leaves and flowers...the colors, textures and shapes. So theoretically I knew what these things were. I just never experienced it for myself until after the surgery. In essence, I had to re-learn about the world around me and engage with it in new ways.

Although I always loved school, it proved to be difficult for me. I had to spend extra time focusing on a task because my eyes do not coordinate. Even now, I suppress the vision of my right eye and my left eye does most of the seeing. You could imagine how difficult it would be to learn how to cut paper following a line or trace a line without the use of one eye. This also effected my comprehension and my ability to learn how to read. I spent lots of extra time in the chapter reading lab or being pulled to the back of the classroom to work on "special" exercises separate from my classmates. Although it might sounds awful and difficult and strenuous, it was all I knew. My little eyes and brain learned how to adapt to the world around me. I knew nothing else but seeing with monocular vision.

In second grade I was almost held back but my parents stood by me and encouraged me to progress with my classmates to the third grade. I did fine! In fourth grade as we learned more complex math I had a wonderful teacher-aid who realized that I simply was just not getting "it." She taught me "touch math." It made ALL the difference in the world. To this day I use this strategy when counting, paying a bill or adding a tip to a receipt. There is no other way I can do math.

Moving forward, I have been able to succeed at most things in life, despite taking a unique approach or even taking a little longer than someone with binocular vision. I graduated high school and college on-time and with honors. I completed my graduate degree in a year and a half while working multiple jobs and earning high honors. Everything just take more effort, but I do it.

Despite these successes, life for me is not without challenges. Often people don't think I am looking at them (only using one eye at a time, my suppressed eye can and does often wander out making it unclear if I am indeed looking directly at someone). Driving is painstaking. I avoid it at all costs. It requires so much focus, attention and strain on my "seeing" eye. My peripheral vision is compromised. I can only see about one or two cars in front of me so things seemingly come out of nowhere and easily scare me. This is why I take the same driving path (even if it takes longer) and why I stay in the same lane on the freeway (even if it is going 20 mph slower than the posted speed limit). Driving to new places terrifies me because I am unsure where I am physically in relation to a new space. Either I worry, study the map, go the day before (or make excuses why I can't go) so I know for sure how to navigate to the new place...or better yet I have my husband drive me past it or if possible just have him drive me. Parking garages? Forget it!! Unless there are three or four open spots all next to each other I don't even try. I know for sure that if there are 3-4 open spot together I can get my car parked in one of those spaces without damage to myself, my vehicle or those around me.  On a similar note, I will park four blocks away from where I need to go just to have a "safe" parking spot to place my car. Walking up and down the stairs I tap my heels or toes to ensure I don't miss a stair. I use shadows and shade to determine where it is safe to walk or drive. The recent solar eclipse threw off my spatial awareness so much. One of my reference points, the shadows cast by the sun, was gone. Most recently, my husband asked me to clip our son's toenail while he held his foot. I realized I could not do this without touching the toe its self... a physical point of reference. My sense of touch has helped me overcome my monocular vision. After thinking about it, subconsciously in many ways I use strategies that many blind people use. I use my sense of touch as a way of "seeing" and navigating though my physical world. Up to this point, I never realized this. Once I did, I started noticing how much I rely on physical touch to help me in everyday tasks that most people with binocular vision can't even imagine.

It amazes me how the human body adapts and how the brain makes accommodates to operate in the world when one of the senses isn't fully functioning.

In the mid-2000's I decided to try out vision therapy (VT).  I was a 23-year old graduate with a master's degree and I was fed-up with the occasional double vision and migraine headaches. I heard that VT could help, especially given my history. I remember walking into my first session. I was emotional, terrified and felt stupid for not being able to perform simple tasks that most other can do... like catch a ball. My therapy seemed haphazard and disorganized. Maybe I didn't fully understand the purpose or maybe I just didn't connect with my therapist but either way it was a stressful experience. I had maybe 5-6 sessions. I was asked to hold a pencil to my nose while I held out a string with beads on it. The goal was to get both of my eyes "turned-on" and working towards the same goal of only seeing one bead. I had to wear a black pirate like patch over one of my eyes, making me feel more stupid than I already did. One exercise required me to put black blinders on the lenses of my eye glasses. There were other exercises like pointing to objects on a moving field or looking into a teal colored lamp. One of the last session, I was taken to a dark room with an old-school overhead projector. The therapist displayed nursery rhyme characters (again, making me feel like a child), yet the purpose of this activity was to get both eye working at the same time, fixated on the same object, to see three-dimensional...something I have never seen before. After several frustrating attempts, my eyes and brain connected. I saw Nate King Cole's belly jump right out towards me. It was the first and last time I have knowingly seen 3D. It was the strangest, most disorienting feeling. Over the course of my treatment, my life was disrupted. The headaches remained. My stomach was upset from the shift if visual perception. I found myself running into doorways in my house (which I had never done before) or stumbling out of bed because I "missed" the floor. Everything I knew, all of the visual information I used, was changing. My body struggled to adapt to this new way of seeing. Although I did see progress and saw 3D for the first time, my therapy did not continue after those initial sessions. I felt like a failure. I felt defeated and the "stupid" feeling remained. This time with an altered perception of the world. I felt like I was worse off.

Over time I forgot about my VT experience and continued to live life as I always had---going on to get married, travel Europe, earn a lecturer position at a university and in the past three years start a family (three kids ages 3 and under).

My most recent pregnancy was difficult which led to the premature birth of our third child. Six-months postpartum I realized that my prescription glasses no longer offered the clear view of the world as they once did. I blamed my recent pregnancy and went to the eye doctor for an exam. Everything was routine. I was given a new prescription which was available in a few weeks from the exam date. Having picked up my new lenses, the world around me still was not clear especially out of my right lens. I went back for a re-exam. We decided to switch to another prescription which, a few weeks later, led to adding prisms back into my lenses (something I had about a decade ago). This still did not fix my seeing problem. I went back for a fourth time. After tweaking my prescription again using the phoropter machine I was given this news from my eye doctor:

I'm sorry Brandi. This is as good as it gets. 

It was still slightly blurry and unfocused out of my right eye. As of current, this is my "new" prescription, as frustrating as it may be.

In previous seasons of life I would have written this off as tiredness (I mean, come on, having 3-kids so close together, who wouldn't be tired). But this news felt different. It reminded me of the words Dr. Ford spoke to my parents more than three decades ago as he told them that their daughter was legally blind.

I could not accept this new "diagnosis."

So, I prayed. I researched. I internalized all of my past feels and emotions. I became brave. I found a vision therapy office that happened to be near my home. I made a late-night decision (what good comes from late night decisions...from an exhausted mind that is not clearly thinking) and I signed myself up for a free consultation with the local optometic physician. It was two-weeks out. I dreaded this appointment more than an appointment for a root canal. It brought on so much stress and anxiety. The day after making the appointment, I sheepishly told my husband...like I had done something bad or was confessing some horrible offense against him. Not fully understanding the bravery it took for me to even THINK about VT again, he shrugged his shoulder and said, "good. Go for it. Let me know how I can support you." Really?! That was it? Wow! Some tension was release but I was still anxious for the pending appointment.

The day of the appointment finally arrived. I pretended all day that it was not happening until about 45-minute prior. My husband looked up the address for me, coached me on how to get there and assured me everything would be fine. He stayed home with all three kids.

I found the building, first entering through the wrong doors (STRESS). I quickly found the correct set of doors, located the elevator and made my way to the second floor...10 minutes early.

The office was locked! Oh boy.

The staff was out to lunch and promptly arrived as stated on the "We will return at" sign. 2pm.

Deep breath. Here we go.

Once the doors opened, I walked up to the front counter, handed over my paperwork as I held back tears and my anxiety. The wonderful receptionist offered me a bottle of water, which I gladly accepted. It was a great distraction and it "gave me something to do" as I waited. Shortly after I was checked in the doctor came out...with a big smile, friendly face and eager to hear me story.....

to be continued...

Maybe I Stopped Caring

...or maybe I am just too overwhelmed to notice.

Nothing in this year has gone as we had planned. We found out we were pregnant, lost a loved one, our basement flooded (TWICE!), discovered medical complications with my pregnancy which lead to a very stressful delivery followed by 28 days in the NICU. We are facing some other difficult, emotional circumstances on top of this as well. Life is not easy.

I find myself numb some days, going through the motions while trying to manage three very reliant children (of course all needing everything from me at the same time). Moments of rest are few and far between. When I do get rest, I worry that my youngest, only 5 weeks old, will stop breathing...which he does on occasion.  We are on high alert all of the time. This, of course, does not help with my "healing" c-section site.

We feel exhausted and isolated, trying to do what we can to reach out but understanding that everyone has their own woes to deal with. It is tough.

I am thankful these three children have made me a mother. They challenge my patience and reliance on God more than any other person has. When I grow weary, I know that God gives the extra strength. When I go through the motions (or fall asleep while bottle feeding our son), God is there to protect, guide, lead, be my beacon of strength.

I find that the simplest daily activities can cause me to be overwhelmed...the dish, laundry, bathing our children. Still facing physically limitation, this does not help. Our sweet youngest refuses to nurse. This causes me to spend at least 2-4 hours a day sitting at my breast pump, doing an enormous amount of "pump" dishes on top of the time is actually takes to bottle feed him (at least 30 min - 1 hour per feeding). Add in diaper changes on top of the needs to two others at 2 1/2 and 16 months, it can get pretty rough.

So all this to say...I continue to try to adopt the saying "it is what it is." My life circumstances may not change any time soon so I need to change my outlook on my circumstances. I may not get a solid night sleep any time soon but I need to take advantage of those sweet moments of rest (what I am doing writing this right now?!?). My son may never breastfed. My other two kids will fight with each other. The dishes will pile up as will the laundry... Embrace it. This is life. This is reality...three precious darlings that I love so much and a husband who is fighting the fight with me.

Even though it might feel like I have stopped caring, the real truth is: I care too much.

Growing a boy: My Raw Emotions

The emotions have finally hit.

Up to this point, I feel like I have dealt with the struggle of our preemie growing boy pretty well...taking each new surprise and challenge in stride. But now it is where it gets tough.

Yes, it is wonderful to have our youngest closer to home yet at the same time it pulls at my heart even harder to have to leave him. Maybe because he is more alert, maybe because I know that he is only 12 minutes from my house and I can just pick up and drive down there with minimal planning. I feel like the relationship with my other two kids has been compromised...focusing more on when/how I can make it down the road rather than enjoying time with my other two.

The big challenge...the road block that needs to be removed before coming home... breastfeeding. Honestly, I did better emotionally when they told me that the surgeons were going to cut open my son's chest to remove a mass/portion of his lung then I am with teaching my preemie how to breastfeed.

My milk production is not the issue. Me knowing how to nurse is not the issue. It is my son's lack of skill that needs to be learned. I know this in my head but my heart aches that he is just not getting it. (Knowing also he is just 36-weeks gestation and this skill will take time to learn).

My mind wonders, "It has to be me." "Maybe he just doesn't like me." "Maybe I am too loud." "Maybe I really don't know what I am doing."

I get emotional. I cry. I secretly get frustrated at myself (thankfully not at my son).

"I must be doing something wrong."

Although the last few days have been great having him closer to home, it has also separated me and my husband...taking shifts to be with him after our other two go to bed. In many ways this is good...the one who is home gets alone time and the other gets to snuggle and stimulate our son (who would otherwise just be laying in a silent hospital room by himself).

This part of the journey for me is the toughest. I was not expecting that. I feel more exhausted (or maybe is it the last 18+ days catching up to me). I feel more worn. I feel less able to deal with the household things that need to be done. I am overwhelmed.

I know it is just a season. I know that whether my son has to be fed my breastmilk via a bottle or by my breast (or even by formula), he will survive. He is a fighter. The ultimate goal is to breastfeed him but the "ultimate ultimate" goal is to get him home...whether that means bottle or breastfeeding.

So...there you have it...my ugly raw emotions in type.

Please pray for us, our marriage and our kids during this challenging time. Yes- it is just a season. Yes- this too shall pass. Yet standing in the middle of it, it feels like sinking sand.

Much love.

Firehoses & Aimless Driving: Momma Needs a Time-Out

It is only 10:30am and what a day it has been already! The husband decided to go on a hike today. I was scheduled to bring both kids with me to my eye doctor appointment at 9:30am. Oh boy!

This morning I encountered an episode of the terrible two's! Running, hitting and tantrum throwing accompanied getting both kids dressed and fed while packing the diaper bag and loading the car... all in hopes of getting out of the door on time for my eye appointment. (Seriously child, pants are NOT optional, little human, when we leave the house).

Arriving on-time with both kids intact: Mission One Accomplished.

Despite my daughter pulling off all of the pink framed glasses at the eye doctors, things went surprisingly well. With the help of crackers and her toy iPad, she was mostly entertained. My sons sat in his car carrier half asleep and half awake as sister jostled him about in his car seat. It was hard to pay attention to what the doctor was asking as my daughter insisted on the NEED to be in my lap. (I think I answered all of the doctor's questions?)

Completing the eye appointment without children throwing a fit: Mission Two Accomplished.

The reward for being well-behaved at the doctor's office was "fa-fee" at Starbucks. My daughter loves the steamed foam (aka her version of fa-fee -- coffee) and scoops it out with a spoon...getting most in her mouth. I had to nurse my son in the busyness of the Saturday morning at Starbucks, but overall it was success.

As I loaded both the kids in the car after our epic morning adventure, my daughter insisted that she drive the car instead of me. I obviously had to veto this for a variety of reasons which caused a series of more two-year-old tantrums. Reluctantly, I promised her that she could "drive" when we got home.… With the car turned off, keys out of the ignition and parked safely in our driveway.

Getting the kids in their proper seats without losing "it" too much: Mission Three Accomplished.

To be honest, at this point, I needed a mommy time-out. I decided to take an extended route home… Honestly driving way far out of my way just to have a few moments without my little ones needing me to do anything for them. So I drove around in a nearly silent car. I am so thankful for crackers and the library and the "Under the Sea" lift and flap book that we checked out a few days ago. I am so thankful for the still hot cuppa coffee I purchased at Starbucks. And a sleeping baby.

As I drove, I had time to reflect again on my purpose as a mother. I fall short every day at being a stellar mom. Today I overreacted to my daughter's multiple tantrums at home. I used harsh tones and unkind words to her as I was trying to get her dressed (the whole "I don't want to wear pants" thing). And I became frustrated at the littlest things that on a normal day really would not be that big of a deal. As I drove, God reminded me of the things He endured to save me from sin and death. He reminds me daily that in Him I am purpose to be a great mother. When I try to rest on my own strength & I don't rely on his power and His word, I fail... fail miserably. I'm thankful that His mercies are new every day. And I'm also thankful that every day He reveals Himself to me! He also reminds me that He has made me to be the perfect mother for the children that He is given me. So despite all of my shortfalls, my bouts of frustration, and overreactions, my children still love me and God is still showing me His grace.

Refocusing on what REALLY matters: Mission Four Accomplished.

So, I got right with God on my extended, out-of-the-way-home mommy time-out. I apologized to my two-year-old for my "tantrums," and was ready to go back home. I had no plans for today besides the eye appointment. My neck was still a little stiff/sore from a recent trip (...about a week ago I couldn't even move it!) so I figured home would be the best option. As I was driving, I saw a street closed. A small-town street fair!! Literally, a gift from God...to help us all refocus on what is truly important...relationships! Faith into action. I want my kids to know me not only as a loving and fair mother but a FUN momma too! So, impromptu.....street fair! I loaded my kids out of the car yet again. This time my daughter wanted to "run, run, run" while brother lounged in the stroller. The first thing we saw as a police car (lights and all!... the real crowd pleaser) and all of the tactical gear for the kids to touch and learn about. So fun! About a block away was the fire truck! My daughter just laughed and giggled as she climbed inside and sat in the driver's seat. The firefighters even had the hose out for kids to spray a few targets! Oh, what a great way to spend a morning and what great redemption God brings.

Allowing God to work on my heart & loving on my kids by making them a priority: Mission Five Accomplished.

So for all of you mothers out there, you are not alone! When days get long and children get cranky and your temper overflows, just know that God's grace is more than enough! God has gifted us mommas with the ability to endure trials of various kinds for His sake so that He might be glorified in our lives! He gives us moments to stop, pause, reflect and reset. The Holy Spirit is kind and gentle to correct us and even if we fail today..God's mercy and grace renews everyday! So mothers, be encouraged you were not alone. In HIM and with His strength we can do ALL things.

Happy Saturday.

Life with Jesus: ONE TRUE GOD

A life with Jesus is not always perfect, easy, or quick to adapt to. It is, however, eventful! My life with Jesus has evolved so much since I first really began to walk with Him in middle school. I reflect back on all of my "hardships" as a 13-year old and compare God's faithfulness to my hardships now as an adult.

God's character is still the same.

Yesterday and tonight I was asked to give my testimony on the boundaries that God has placed on my life. Many topics came to my mind including both emotional and physical boundaries God has given me. It is so encouraging to discover that other ladies ALSO have boundaries that God has given them too, despite being different than mine.

Tonight, I feel victorious in the Lord. I stood in front on how many women and confessed my stubbornness  pride, frustration and all the like about on boundary...now I feel free! God calls us to confess our sins and also to carry the burdens of others. In fellowship, conversation, and pray this is accomplished.

I am SO grateful that God has given me ladies who I can trust, exposing these boundaries to. I am so grateful for the LOVE God Himself gives me as I trust in HIM to provide for my every need and bring me protection along with comfort.

So, I end this blog tonight feeling encouraged, blessed, excited, and wanting more than ever to keep sharing my story so that people can see the ONE TRUE GOD through it.

May God receive all of the glory.
~AMEN~

Convictions from a Lazy Heart

Hello Dear Ones-

It truly has been a long while since I have posted. My confession: my lazy heart.

In September, I committed to join and study the Book of Genesis with a Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) group. I did great.....until week nine came around. Yikes!

The typical things got in the way and the common phrase, "I am really busy" became my excuse. Yes, I was busy, but to my dismay, my busyness lead me to push out God.

So, now that I am on "break" from my job until January, I thought I would catch up on the 4 lessons I have missed, starting at Genesis chapter 10--- the Tower of Babel.

As I began to read the BSF notes on chapters 10 and 11, I felt a sadness in my heart for the people who deliberately chose to forsake God for their own selfish ambitions. They desired to be known and worshiped among their peers. They wanted the power and recognition  They wanted to be in control. They worked long and hard to build this beautiful and tall tower....for their own selfish confidence.

To be honest, I was appalled at their decision to chose selfish gain and selfish confidence over God. And then.......God showed me that I have been very much like these people that I loathed.

God revealed to me my personal expressions of pride, situations where I have called attention to myself (and away from God), and moments where I purposely chose to honor my own heart instead of God's heart.

How can we humans fall into the same repetitive traps (and so quickly?!?!)? How do our hearts become so lazy yet pride full?

The BSF lesson notes asked some very pointed questions:

• How have you taken satisfaction in other people's support more than in God's closeness?
• What are you doing right now that might really be for your own advancement and not for God?
• Where have you deliberately chosen NOT to exalt God's name or His Word?

These are all good questions to ask no matter where you are in your relationship with God. I know that my lazy heart has caused WAY more harm then good! Are you aware of the areas in your life that you tend to put off because of laziness, pride, selfishness, etc.?

God calls us to present ourselves to Him FULLY! I am more convicted of this then ever especially as we enter this special season of Christmas when God purposely sent His Son to live on this earth among the lazy-hearted.

The best gift that you can give this Christmas is a clean, pure heart with obedience, trust and faith. Jesus is waiting to receive this from each of us......

~B~