Keeping Positive and Rolling With It

Life continues to be interesting. In the immortal words of my good friend, Bernie, “Life is not for the weak!”

Indeed.

I’ve found it moderately hilarious that things will go awry when you are already in somewhat of a spiral, there is a full moon coming, and two months have back to back Friday the 13ths (what even in the heck?!?)

But that is neither here nor there…

On top of it all, this week, Satan decided to attack my Bible streak on the You Version app and make it look like I skipped a day. The very nerve. We got that fixed, like, right away. Minor panic attack. I know it seems silly, but sometimes those silly things can really throw you (me) for a loop.

I’m in the midst of some interesting health… things, we’ll call them. One thing has led to another, then another, and all of the sudden I have four new specialists and a full-time follow-up career with appointments and consults and tests. This was the perfect time for my dad to start having some health issues as well, so I had to pause my health-interesting-journey in order to come help him with his. And of course the timing is just “perfect” (imagine the eye roll/sarcasm/deep sigh) because, well, life. 

Again, not for the weak.

My theme song, when I was an unstable, overworked, anorexic, underpaid, severely understaffed ICU nurse was “Roll With It, Baby” because- what else could you do but try to keep your patients alive and give your heart and soul to the families of the patients for twelve hours on night shift so you could go home,, crash for a few hours, have nightmares about all the things you might have forgotten to do, and then return to do it again(?)…

That is kind of how this feels… Everything in the world (albeit my world) imploding, disappointing situations, hard realities, trying to heal, pain, and me giving and giving and still giving…and I’ll do it until I die… so I’ll just roll with it. There is no other way. I roll with it, and pray, and God is God, and I am not, so… roll with it.

                                                 

And, no matter how things may play out, there will be no regrets. My dad gave his all for me. He’d do it again. He still tries to. It’s a privilege to be here for him and to be able to care for him. He is almost eighty-two years old, and time is short- I get that. I don’t want there to be any doubt that I didn’t give him my all, when he gave me his. I want to be here.

                                                  

Silver lining: while it was in the 30s and sleeting/freezing rain back home , it was in the 60s and 70s here, and the sun was shining!

                                                 

Parents, You Are Seen…

 I see you…

You, parents, are on my heart and in my prayers.

While trying to avoid being overstimulated by social media, the news, the radio, all forms of communication, ETCETERRA, and AD NASEUM, it is impossible to completely not be aware of the news, and the consequences of last week’s events. The blame game has commenced, the politicians who have been calling those of us on the right threats to democracy, fascists, nazis, bigots, racists, and evil doers are starting their gaslighting campaign, OR doubling down on their rhetoric and celebrating.

I am bereft. I am appalled. I am disgusted.

I am also a Christian, and loving. I also seek common ground. 

I have been caring for my elderly father this past week, away from my husband, away from my support system of friends. I am absolutely, one hundred percent ALL IN with helping to take care of my dad. I wouldn’t have it any other way. He, too, has been very teary and angry about the assassination of Charlie, and the fall out that has followed. We’ve cried together, raged together, and reminisced. A lot. It is especially meaningful that as I draw closer to my dad and visit more often that we are able to have really deep conversations, share memories, and, for me, soak up every bit of wisdom that I can.

I’ve said before that no childhood is perfect. My brother and I moved every three years, my dad was often deployed for months at a time when we were young, and very married to his job as we got older. Mom was nurse, on shift work, or commuting to and from DC while we were in high school. Kyle and I are Generation X- and all that entails certainly describes us. I raised my brother for a time, and he certainly played the part of big brother/ protector when situations called for them. I never doubted my parents’ love. They did a great job. They supported us unconditionally. My brother and I were little grown-ups before we needed to be, but we’re better for it.

So, I heard on the news today a commentator lamenting about “where are these kids’ parents?”  Of course referring to the kids  (and adults) who are celebrating the demise of Charlie Kirk, the death of a United Health Care CEO,  and the violence culture that is becoming a new and sad reality in this country.

Let me say this about that…

We are dealing with our own daughter who is among the leftist culture. I would like to believe she is not celebrating anyone’s death, however, I don’t know. I know she hates the right. She hates Trump. She has chosen to have “no contact” with us… for why?  We don’t even know why. All of this came out of the blue.

My point is this: She was raised in a good home, she was homescchooled, she was brought up in church with a strong Christian moral compass. She wanted to be a missionary. She went to a conservative Christian college. We gave her music lessons from the time she was eight until she went to colllege. She played some sports. We took her to workshops and practices. She danced. We constantly told her how talented she was, how beautiful she was, how much we loved her, valued her. 

SHE made the choice to draw away, and come up with this narrative that we were awful. She decided to walk away from her faith. She decided to walk away from her family. 

And I’m heartbroken. I cry every day. This week while commentators and the Governor from Utah were imploring people to hug their families, and talk with people they disagree with, I thought, “Well, I’d love to.”

But I can’t. And it hurts more than anyone could imagine. 

I do blame social media, and I blame the algorithms that lead children down these dark, dangerous holes of “self expression” and the encouragement of hatred of self and families, and violence. In some cases, I’m sure, parenting may be to blame somewhat- but in the case of the assassain? Everything I’ve seen so far looks like he grew up in a regular family, and changed when he left home. I may be wrong- I’m obviously not on the case, or an investigator, or even watching the news 24/7. 

It’s not always the parenting. We (my husband and I) were far from perfect. We fought, and went through some very challenging times, including a short separation. But our kids had a front row seat to witness communication, love, conflict resolution, repentance, redemption and forgiveness. No one is perfect except for the Guy who walked on water. We parents… we are hurting.

I want to echo the sentiments of the Governor from Utah: Seek non-violence. Seek discussion. 

Be like Charlie. Speak truth in kindness, but boldly. Go to church. Seek to learn something. Do not be silenced. Be kind. Love your family.

#iamcharliekirk #parentingadultchildren #whenithurts

Enough

Yesterday was a hard day.

It’s been a hard week, really. The revelation that a young, beautiful refugee from Ukraine was stabbed in the neck by someone who had MULTIPLE prior arrests was bad enough. This kind of FAILURE of the justice system is unconscionable. 

The assassination of Charlie Kirk is devastating, heartbreaking, and horrific. 

This man used his words to galvanize young people toward Christ, toward values, toward becoming  people that stand up for the right. He didn’t put people down, He spoke truth. He spoke common sense. He spoke openly, and yes, critically, of the dangers of pushing harmful hormonal treatments and performing radical surgeries on young people- people too young to make major life decisions, too young to vote, and often too young to even drive. He spoke Biblical truth about marriage, family and Godly living. He spoke truth about the dangers of not having a moral compass to guide decision making on a personal level, and then broadened that idea to leaders and government officials. Shouldn’t people representing the people in our government also be guided by Godly príncipes?

He was effective at reaching people across all generations, but he especially had a heart for our youth.

And someone killed him for it.  A faceless coward took the life of a young man and orphaned a young family. 

And ignited the righteous anger of A LOT of people in this nation, in this world. 

ENOUGH

It is so interesting to me that the party of:

coexist

unity

get along

tolerance

everyone belongs

no guns

no violence

is the party that is killing and attempting to kill people that dare to speak common sense, and bring common sense back to this nation.

This is a country. We have borders. It is not inhumane to enforce our borders and our laws. Every other country in the world does the same.

This is not a socialist country.. or a fascist, or a nazi one. Nor is our President. Read your history books, and dictionaries.

I don’t recall the “right” calling for the assassination of any of the left leaders during any of the last administrations that were Democrat lead. I’m appalled at the merchandise for sale that call for the extermination of our president.

I’m horrified that people are celebrating the killing of not just Charlie, but of the encouraged inciting of violence toward conservative republicans, and the celebration of the assassination attempts, the killing of the United Healthcare CEO, and the suppression of news stories that don’t fit the mainstream media’s narratives.

We are not a threat to democracy- politicians on the left need to stop touting that. Democracy is not one sided. It is debate, discourse, voting, free speech, and freedom from oppression. 

KILLING YOUR POLITICAL OPPONENTS OR PEOPLE YOU DON’T AGREE WITH IS WHAT THE FASCIST/NAZI/CORRUPT GOVERNMENTS DO.

Again- you don’t see the conservatives killing or silencing people or calling for it.

Or looting or burning cars or cities, for that matter.

ENOUGH.

May God comfort Charlie’s family and friends, and all of us who mourn his loss. May God heal this country and the people that seek to destroy it. May Jesus be with all of us, surround us, comfort us. May the Holy Spirit Guide us and fill us.

Actively Trying To Process

What kind of person condones watching one human being cause the suffering of another?

Let’s take it a step further: what kind of parent supports their child’s spouse causing harm to her own parents without trying to figure out what is going on? What kind of parent tells another parent that they need to give their child space, and to back off? What kind of parent is ok with watching an adult child tear apart their nuclear family, their own parents, with no explanation and seemingly condone this type of behavior?

Would you condone some girlfriend/boyfriend/fiancé/spouse of your child being mean to and blocking contact with their own family without any reason? And be supportive of this behavior? Is this a new normal? Is this OK?

How do people solve problems if they won’t discuss said problems? We don’t even know what the problems are.

I tried to reach out to my daughter’s “in-laws” and was told she needed space and that I should leave her alone. That was back in February. Today I found out that they (my daughter and her “husband”) aren’t even legally married. The hits keep coming.

So, this all got me thinking about what kind of person it takes to be ok with watching someone self destruct. 

As a parent, especially, I would imagine that the “in-laws”- the other family- should be able to  put themselves in our (my husband’s and my) shoes, and understand the FRANTIC DESPERATION we feel for our daughter. And how much we miss her. And love her. And just want her back in our lives. I know I’d do it for them. If the proverbial shoe were on the other foot, I’d at least have a conversation. Or attempt to.

I guess my question is, “Can you really be neutral in a situation such as this?”

When this nightmare began, I respected that my other kids were claiming neutrality, but I’m beginning to see that if you are “neutral” and still speaking to the person who is actively causing harm to another family member, you can’t possibly be neutral. You are condoning the harmful behavior. 

And there in lies a huge, glaring issue: the kids (my kids) aren’t neutral, they’ve picked their proverbial sides, as the saying goes. Not that I’m trying to get anyone to choose a side, but I AM trying to get them to see that they aren’t helping the situation by being “neutral” - they are only further contributing to this division. They, too, are condoning the behavior of no contact and yes, it is mean, the notion of just up and telling the family that raised you, gave you all kinds of opportunities, and love, love, loved you in a way you couldn’t possibly comprehend, that well, you simply just don’t matter anymore.

I am so very sad. I suspect my daughter is morbidly sad. I feel it. I’m a high-functioning empath, after all. I feel everything. I feel my huge sad emotions, my husband’s, her’s, and even her siblings’.

And the more I try to find a solution, the worse it gets.

SO… GOD… Thy will be done, Thy kingdom come. I feel undone, and I am fully relying on YOU.

Peace.

                                       

Grieving Is Not Linear

I was reading my devotional- but first, actually, I was on Instagram. For all of three minutes, and that was long enough to spike the heart rate, blood pressure, anxiety, and anger, when I felt God nudge me gently (may be not so gently) to NOT start the day this way, and to look up. 

So, I felt like not rebelling, and tried obedience instead, and moved on to my devotion. I’m doing a lot of devotions on grief right now, because I am, once again, in a season of heavy losses. I was incredibly sad when my mother and grandmother died within six weeks of each other in 2019. That grief cycle was expected, and very hard to process. The two most important women in my life were gone, and gone in the wrong order, and gone rather unexpectantly (in my mother’s case). The grief, sadness, and guilt I felt took forever to process. But GOD… and a very good therapist helped me process and got me back on my feet again. This time,,, it’s.. something else entirely.

I feel, most of the time lately, that life is just a mounting series of losses. Some people experienced them harder than others, some are more resilient, some are not. Growing up as a Navy Brat (represent!), I learned very early on to be resilient with moves every three years, changing schools, friendships, relationships, communities, etc. And I’m better for it. Growing up with faith, and in a church certainly formed a worldview that centered around things of Heaven, and not things of this temporary Earth. These types of grief and dealing with the day to day, year to year changes, and yes, sometimes losses, were easier to process, feel, and move on. Life is, after all, a circle of sorts.

But, one cannot escape grief.

THIS season, is so very hard. It is so very painful. I and my family are so hurting and confused and blindsided that not only are we sad, but we don’t understand. None of us. It’s like someone died, but she didn’t, and we don’t know why, because she won’t tell us or talk to us, and we can’t reach her. No one thinks she is OK, and it would appear that she doesn’t care that we are worried sick for her.

It’s hard to process grief, and sadness, when you can’t even comprehend the why behind it.

Which brings me to my Bible devotion this morning, and a little bit of an a-ha moment, a tiny epiphany, and maybe a little, quiet Hallelujah.

Jesus knew He was on Earth to die on the cross for us. He knew it His whole life- for thirtyish years, He was aware of God’s Plan, THE PLAN. 

The night before He was going to die, though, He took His best friends with Him to the garden and told them how scared He was- ‘grieved- even to the point of death.” Which, He knew was coming. His friends, I’m sure, were confused, but worried, and a little exhausted, obviously, because they fell asleep when He went further on without them to pray. 

Jesus asked His Father if there was any other way, if there was any conceivable notion to to change the part where He had to die on the cross, If, there was somehow, some possible way to escape this part of the story, could it possibly happen? 

Then Jesus says, “BUT Your way, not Mine, be done.”

Your way. Not mine. Even Jesus had to step forward in faith, trusting His Father’s will. 

God ALWAYS has a plan. Always. He sees me. He sees us. He sees her. He is in control.

I do NOT like right now. I do not feel like all is well with my soul- even though I sing it, hoping that if I sing and praise, and give the words to Heaven, that I’ll start to know in my head, what I do believe in my heart is true. I’m human, with very human thoughts and feelings, but I do know my faith, and my God is bigger than this.

I need to keep moving forward. I need to keep praying. I need to trust.

Thy will be done.

It is SO NOT EASY.

It still hurts. It still sucks. 

But, GOD.

Oh, January

As per usual, January was a s**t show (don’t let that picture fool you, it’s from February). I don’t know why we can’t have a calm January, but , there we were. Last year, January started with my worst bout of covid yet, a broken foot and a tree crashing through our house (that took months to fix). This year, the drama was more emotional, but still devastating, and I was  recovering from my second back surgery in three months. It was also one of our longest, coldest, iciest January months we’ve seen in these parts for quite a while- like two weeks in the twenties!

So, in February, when my husband got to travel to a warmer environment (say, like, Ft. Lauderdale), I asked if this was a can-your-wife-tag-along trip? He checked, and the answer was yes (yay!!)!! 

Praise God! For real! In all things, yes, even the trials, which is so hard, but, wow, was I happy for a little break! And, yes, I’m a comma girl.

So, I packed up all my sad, anxious thoughts sand put them in a Drop-Dead-Fred box, and prepared to head South. 

Of course, a few days before we flew, the terrible Potomac crash happened. I’m already a nervous flier, but this amped up those feelings, in addition to the overwhelming feelings of the tragedy of it all. Then the Pennsylvania crash happened. Terrible and Sad. Then there was another crash. Anxiety. What was also so somber feeling, is that we have peripheral connections to the community of the people involved in the crashes (and recovery efforts), especially the Potomac one. Passing the area where the recovery operations were set up was sobering, and from the airport we could see the crews, with their equipment, working out on the water.

When we finally took off, I was sobbing in my seat. It wasn’t from the fear or the anxiety, though. I could actually feel the heaviness and sorrow from the site on the Potomac. Being an empath is hard. Sometimes, these overwhelming feelings surprise me. Prayers.

Landing in Ft. Lauderdale was surreal. It was around 45 degrees when we left DC, and it was sunny and 76 degrees when we landed. Making sure the Drop-Dead-Fred box was secure on the shelf, I set out to seek active relaxation (so not good at that), continued recovery (nurses are the worst patients ever), and good old reflection and rest. 

It’s a work in progress. Trying to come to grip with the reality that one of my children is suffering greatly, and she blames me, and coming to terms with not being able to fix some things, is devastatingly, overwhelmingly painful. I know that it is not all me, and I know she is casting blame, and I know God loves her more than even I do, but… It is hard to be in this space. 

Along those lines, there is something about physically being in a different location to control-alt-delete. This trip was not about living it up in sunny Florida. This trip was a pause. A take a breath. A recharge (like, literally, I solar-paneled recharge). A long talk with Jesus.

It was good.

I know it is going to get worse before it gets better, and I am so not looking forward to it. However, as always, I do have my faith. And I don’t quit. 

Still…. I realize

Once again, I am looking to the hills, where my Help comes from, the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth. I desperately am reminding myself of who I am, Whose I am, and Who loves me. I am drawn closest to God when I am hurting. I feel His presence most acutely when I am clinging desperately to His promises.

It’s been a ride, people. I swear, every year comes and goes and I think, “Geesh! Well, that was crazy!”

This year has been that and so much more. I have spent the greater part of today writing and publishing a pretty detailed, very painful, very private post about the last few months of this year and how they have impacted me. Then, in talking about said post with Mr. Mark, in which he (very rightly) pointed out how some of that information is nobody’s business, and what did I have to gain by putting “out there” on the internet for “everyone”? Needless to say, I took it down. My angsty mind and hurt, angry emotions were very much on board with “it’s my business, and whomever else has heard about it from other sources’ needs to hear about it from my point of view, and  if one is going to act a fool, and play me ass a fool even unwittingly, one may as well get the whole damn truth out there…”

Alas. here we are. Just know that when you get hurt by those whom you love the most, God still calls you to be His and act accordingly. No matter how hard that may be, I think it falls under the love your neighbor (your children, your family, your spouse) rule. Plus, acting out says something about your character. Good or bad. 

So, here is a little tidbit about mine:

Those of you who know me,  KNOW that I love fiercely. I am all in. One thousand percent. I have raised my family this way- with all the fierce love. I have made sure every one of my kids knows that they are loved fiercely. My friends know I love them fiercely, too. So, can I tell you exactly how I am so crushed and that I take it so personally when I am accused of anything less? Well, it sucks, for one. It hurts unbelievably to me that someone close to me could possibly fathom that I would not move mountains for them in a second if that is what is required for the situation. But, that is neither here nor there, apparently, because someone has forgotten who she is, Whose she is, and Who loves her (and I’m not talking about me, here).

Lesson of the year:

To be clear:

Remember who you are.

Remember Whose you are.

Remember Who loves you.