It's just one of those nights cause it's just been one of those weeks. And now I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep because I reached for the caffeine pick-me-up too late in the day so I'm all jittery. Today - well, yesterday, really - was my dad's birthday. It's been almost 2 years now since I've seen him. Sometimes I wish dates didn't stick with me so well; I doubt I'll ever forget the date I last saw all of my family. But on the positive side of the whole 'numbers-sticking-with-me' thing, I remember positive dates, too, such as Paul's & my first date 10 years ago. The anniversary was Wednesday.
So, anyway, I find myself awake at an unfortunate hour, rehashing, rereading messages, reliving pain, and unable to stop the whirlwind exploding in my mind. I'm hoping that writing this all out will help the voices to die down. I'm feeling hurt, as I'm sure everyone in this situation feels. I guess my pain only seems more real, more tangible, more immense because I, obviously, experience it first-hand, instead of trying to empathize with the other parties involved.
I was looking forward to the holidays coming up; not Halloween so much. I don't really care for Halloween, but I do enjoy Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. Over the last few weeks I had been feeling really positive - generally speaking - about life. We've paid off some debt, I've been canning Grandma King's garden abundance, Paul just killed a deer a few days ago, Christina is printing T, H, and I, Hope is starting to talk a bit more, and trying to take a few steps here and there. We have much to be thankful for this year. And it hit me tonight that I'll likely not see my family again this year. And that makes me sad. I guess by now it's a mutual decision. I'm fairly certain my parents won't be changing their stance on things, and I'm not changing mine, so we're at a bit of a standstill. It is what it is, but it doesn't make it hurt any less.
We have church in the morning, thank goodness. Church usually helps me gain perspective again and realize that I really am blessed, even when I'm feeling surrounded by darkness. Here's hoping a happy attitude returns with the morning light.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Sheesh. I haven't blogged since the end of July? Yowza. I'd like to say it's because everything is finally resolved, I have reconnected with my family, the pain has melted away, and all is right with the world. However, I'm embracing truth, and the truth is that life is not always so easy. Life is messy, and though there is forgiveness, there also exists fallout. Fallout for right actions and fallout for wrong actions. Karma. Consequences. Whatever you want to term it, that's what I'd say I'm living right now. I think about this often, forgiveness and consequences and fallout and aftermath. Think about insanity and indecisiveness, pain and confusion. Feeling lost.
Thankfully most nights I can cast away these thoughts and just be lost in God's comfort and promises. Tonight, however, is one where I simply cannot get my mind to switch off. No matter how hard I try (and that is probably the problem - that I am *trying*) I simply cannot call off thoughts awhile. Cannot give comfort rootroom. Bleh. I keep replaying conversations, situations, scenarios. Keep imagining responses to possible confrontations that will likely not happen within the next year. I suppose in a way it's funny, but I'm not seeing the humor at the moment.
On a positive note, I have started some Rx treatment for the RA that was a pain in just about every joint of my body. AND the Rx seem to be working. I can fit into my wedding rings again; I hadn't been able to wear them since around Christmastime last year because they would cut off the circulation in my finger, causing it to go numb. So, I am very happy to be able to don the oftentimes only jewelry items I wear. However, taking the Rx means that I had to wean Hope, which was so much more painful - emotionally AND physically - than I remembered it being when I weaned Christina. I guess I blocked that pain just as effectively as I blocked labor pains. And I think weaning Christina was probably less emotionally difficult because it was a much more gradual process, instead of cold-turkey. I imagine it was physically less painful because I simply transitioned from breastfeeding to being pregnant, so everything was tender, anyway. And now that my body has almost gotten the point that it does not need to produce milk anymore, I am left with two very empty-looking breasts. I never thought I would be one to lament breast size, but this has really been difficult for me. I told Paul the other day that I looked like a steamroller had run over me. He responded by reminding me of the Ron White joke about the old biker chick. NOT helpful, though he was just trying to make me laugh, I know. I'm not even sure why I'm blabbering along about this, other than a blatant attempt to get someone to say, "it's okay, Chrystal. Size doesn't matter. Be happy that you nursed your babies" and all that. And I am very happy that I nursed my babies; I knew going into this that my body would change and things would shift around, blah, blah, blah. It's just not very comforting to tell myself "I told you this would happen, why are you all upset about it now?" Paul reminds me that the RA has been pretty hard on my body, too, and I've dropped A LOT of weight, so my body fat percentage is probably all out of whack and as I continue to get healthier, I'll probably put the weight on and feel better about myself. Maybe he is right, and maybe I just need to go invest in some nice padded push-up bras.
That was all probably an over-share.
Another positive note is that I've been canning again this year. I started canning during the fall of '07, I believe it was. And I canned at least a little - salsa, tomatoes, spaghetti sauce, pickles - every year since then, except I didn't can AT ALL last year. I was simply exhausted carrying Hope around in my tummy 24/7, and chasing Christina around during the waking hours. But Kellie, my wonderful MIL canned quite a few jars of tomatoes and tomato juice for us, which was so thoughtful and helped stretch the food budget a bit this past year. So far this year my canning activity has included the following: tomatoes, grape jelly that probably will need to be reprocessed as it still has not jelled, apple halves and slices, applesauce (which tastes SO much better than the store-bought stuff, even if running it through the food mill did wreak havoc on my shoulder - I DO NOT like peels in my applesauce), apricot sauce, and juice base (I canned the liquid that I boiled the apples and apricots in - Paul's aunt says it makes an excellent foundation for party punch, so I figured it's better than letting it go to waste). Tomorrow we will tackle tomato soup as well as another batch or two of tomatoes. Later this week we will probably tackle peaches, too. Next year I may grow a little garden of my own - probably a few tomato plants, fresh herbs, and maybe green beans - so I'm not just limited to relative's garden surpluses.
Anyhow, if anyone out in blogger-land was wondering where I've been, for a while the RA was too severe and typing on the computer for any length of time was quite painful, so I neglected my poor, lonely blog. Within the last few weeks I've been feeling much better and have been much busier than previously simply because I am feeling SO MUCH BETTER, so again my blog went neglected. Tonight's insomnia was too insistent for me to lie in bed hopelessly awake, so I decided to search for coupon deals on the interwebs and post an update . Happy October, everyone. :)
Thankfully most nights I can cast away these thoughts and just be lost in God's comfort and promises. Tonight, however, is one where I simply cannot get my mind to switch off. No matter how hard I try (and that is probably the problem - that I am *trying*) I simply cannot call off thoughts awhile. Cannot give comfort rootroom. Bleh. I keep replaying conversations, situations, scenarios. Keep imagining responses to possible confrontations that will likely not happen within the next year. I suppose in a way it's funny, but I'm not seeing the humor at the moment.
On a positive note, I have started some Rx treatment for the RA that was a pain in just about every joint of my body. AND the Rx seem to be working. I can fit into my wedding rings again; I hadn't been able to wear them since around Christmastime last year because they would cut off the circulation in my finger, causing it to go numb. So, I am very happy to be able to don the oftentimes only jewelry items I wear. However, taking the Rx means that I had to wean Hope, which was so much more painful - emotionally AND physically - than I remembered it being when I weaned Christina. I guess I blocked that pain just as effectively as I blocked labor pains. And I think weaning Christina was probably less emotionally difficult because it was a much more gradual process, instead of cold-turkey. I imagine it was physically less painful because I simply transitioned from breastfeeding to being pregnant, so everything was tender, anyway. And now that my body has almost gotten the point that it does not need to produce milk anymore, I am left with two very empty-looking breasts. I never thought I would be one to lament breast size, but this has really been difficult for me. I told Paul the other day that I looked like a steamroller had run over me. He responded by reminding me of the Ron White joke about the old biker chick. NOT helpful, though he was just trying to make me laugh, I know. I'm not even sure why I'm blabbering along about this, other than a blatant attempt to get someone to say, "it's okay, Chrystal. Size doesn't matter. Be happy that you nursed your babies" and all that. And I am very happy that I nursed my babies; I knew going into this that my body would change and things would shift around, blah, blah, blah. It's just not very comforting to tell myself "I told you this would happen, why are you all upset about it now?" Paul reminds me that the RA has been pretty hard on my body, too, and I've dropped A LOT of weight, so my body fat percentage is probably all out of whack and as I continue to get healthier, I'll probably put the weight on and feel better about myself. Maybe he is right, and maybe I just need to go invest in some nice padded push-up bras.
That was all probably an over-share.
Another positive note is that I've been canning again this year. I started canning during the fall of '07, I believe it was. And I canned at least a little - salsa, tomatoes, spaghetti sauce, pickles - every year since then, except I didn't can AT ALL last year. I was simply exhausted carrying Hope around in my tummy 24/7, and chasing Christina around during the waking hours. But Kellie, my wonderful MIL canned quite a few jars of tomatoes and tomato juice for us, which was so thoughtful and helped stretch the food budget a bit this past year. So far this year my canning activity has included the following: tomatoes, grape jelly that probably will need to be reprocessed as it still has not jelled, apple halves and slices, applesauce (which tastes SO much better than the store-bought stuff, even if running it through the food mill did wreak havoc on my shoulder - I DO NOT like peels in my applesauce), apricot sauce, and juice base (I canned the liquid that I boiled the apples and apricots in - Paul's aunt says it makes an excellent foundation for party punch, so I figured it's better than letting it go to waste). Tomorrow we will tackle tomato soup as well as another batch or two of tomatoes. Later this week we will probably tackle peaches, too. Next year I may grow a little garden of my own - probably a few tomato plants, fresh herbs, and maybe green beans - so I'm not just limited to relative's garden surpluses.
Anyhow, if anyone out in blogger-land was wondering where I've been, for a while the RA was too severe and typing on the computer for any length of time was quite painful, so I neglected my poor, lonely blog. Within the last few weeks I've been feeling much better and have been much busier than previously simply because I am feeling SO MUCH BETTER, so again my blog went neglected. Tonight's insomnia was too insistent for me to lie in bed hopelessly awake, so I decided to search for coupon deals on the interwebs and post an update . Happy October, everyone. :)
Friday, July 29, 2011
Giving Up
I just realized I need to give up something. I pick at things. Peeling paint. Scabs. My scalp when I'm nervous or stressed. Actually, Paul has pointed this out several times, especially picking at myself when I'm nervous/stressed. However, I just realized I also tend to pick at my emotions. I re-live unpleasant conversations/situations and the way I felt about them. Not just once or twice. Repeatedly for years after.
If anyone else has noticed a struggle with similar issues, how have you dealt with it? What has helped or is helping you?
If anyone else has noticed a struggle with similar issues, how have you dealt with it? What has helped or is helping you?
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Playing Dress-up
Am I the only woman who remembers playing dress-up? Christina loves to play dress-up; she'll sneak into the clean laundry and put on one of Paul's or my shirts and prance around in her "gown" (she thinks she's one of the Disney princesses). She's been obsessed with shoes - particularly mine - since she figured out how to walk, and loves clopping around the house in my abandoned heels. As she struts around she beams at me, "Mommy, I'm a PRINcess!" It's delightful. I love the sparkle in her eye; I love that she feels beautiful and knows Mommy agrees she's beautiful.
A couple days ago I celebrated, if you can really call it that, the second anniversary of my 25th birthday. This summer will be 10 years since my relationship with Paul began. I have two beautiful daughters. And I feel like I'm still playing dress-up
Twenty-seven *shudder* just sounds so old. Life certainly isn't what I thought it would be by the time I was in my late 20's. For one thing, I figured I'd have another child or two by now. I thought I'd have my college loans all paid back (keep in mind, a lot of these "thought I'd have"s are from my blissfully idealogical teenage years). I just assumed I'd own my own home by the time my 30s were approaching. I guess I just thought I'd be more "put together" than I currently feel.
I look in the mirror and notice a few wrinkles around my eyes. I haven't found any gray hairs yet, but that could be due to the wonderful job my hairstylist does with highlights. I see the ever-present dark circles cradling my eyes. But as I look at this tired reflection, I feel like if I passed myself in the grocery store, I'd never guess I had two kids. Or that I'd been married almost 7 years. In some ways, I suppose, I still see myself as an care-free teenager. I remember when I was almost finished with college and bought a couple nice business suits for the interviews that were sure to follow. I felt like I was playing dress-up. Like I was some little girl posing as a powerful businesswoman. Today I feel like a little girl pretending she's a good mommy.
A couple days ago I celebrated, if you can really call it that, the second anniversary of my 25th birthday. This summer will be 10 years since my relationship with Paul began. I have two beautiful daughters. And I feel like I'm still playing dress-up
Twenty-seven *shudder* just sounds so old. Life certainly isn't what I thought it would be by the time I was in my late 20's. For one thing, I figured I'd have another child or two by now. I thought I'd have my college loans all paid back (keep in mind, a lot of these "thought I'd have"s are from my blissfully idealogical teenage years). I just assumed I'd own my own home by the time my 30s were approaching. I guess I just thought I'd be more "put together" than I currently feel.
I look in the mirror and notice a few wrinkles around my eyes. I haven't found any gray hairs yet, but that could be due to the wonderful job my hairstylist does with highlights. I see the ever-present dark circles cradling my eyes. But as I look at this tired reflection, I feel like if I passed myself in the grocery store, I'd never guess I had two kids. Or that I'd been married almost 7 years. In some ways, I suppose, I still see myself as an care-free teenager. I remember when I was almost finished with college and bought a couple nice business suits for the interviews that were sure to follow. I felt like I was playing dress-up. Like I was some little girl posing as a powerful businesswoman. Today I feel like a little girl pretending she's a good mommy.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Calloused, or Steadfast?
Oh, it's been a while since I've posted here. Besides the busy-ness of family life, we've had a death, a graduation, a birthday celebration, and a Mother's day celebration. These are not much of an excuse, though, since they actually all happened within about 2 weeks of each other. Oh, my. By the time life seems to settle down, I think I'll be well into my 70s or so.
I've been thinking lately about my decisions regarding my family - not having contact with them. To me, I feel like I am being steadfast in doing what I believe is best for me, my children, and my husband. But to the outsider looking in, I wonder if I appear cold and calloused. We do not invite my parents or siblings to our family get-togethers. I'd really prefer that they actually don't know where I live right now. I trusted my mom to not give my mailing address to the guy who molested me, and within a couple weeks of her promising she had not given it to him, I received mail from him. I cannot trust her to keep her promises (this is not the only time she has defaulted on her word to me) so I feel it's saner for me to just not tell her where I am living.
I get sick of people preaching tolerance for immorality. I've heard time and time again that I ought to forgive my offender because Jesus loves him and Jesus will forgive him if only he asks and repents. This is true. I believe that God has the power to forgive anyone of any sin if that person is truly repentant. I also believe, however, that there are still consequences of our sin. I don't believe that God just hands us cherry-flavored lollipops all day long, no matter what we do or don't do. I think we screw up and we have to deal with the outcomes.
Paul & I were discussing something along these lines over brunch yesterday. Specifically, that Jesus did preach to adulterers, tax collectors, Samaritans, those people that were not fit for the leaders of the synagogue, and whoever all else, to talk to. But he called them to change, to cast down their nets and follow him. He didn't tarry in the bad parts of town. He might stop and preach a bit, maybe heal a person or two, but he kept on the move. He was very nomadic.
It's a complicated idea, I guess; how God loves us just as we are, but at the same time calls us to change our ways and turn away from our sinful nature. I don't believe that we should surround ourselves with immoral people, or people who surround themselves with immoral people. Iron sharpens iron; like dissolves like. I still feel like I am doing right for my family - my kids and my husband - I just wonder how it appears to the outsider looking in on my life, who maybe doesn't have all the facts. It doesn't really matter, I guess, since if I KNOW I am doing what God has lead me to, all other opinions fall to the wayside. But still, I'm curious. Like a cat. It's why my friends call me whiskers. ;)
I've been thinking lately about my decisions regarding my family - not having contact with them. To me, I feel like I am being steadfast in doing what I believe is best for me, my children, and my husband. But to the outsider looking in, I wonder if I appear cold and calloused. We do not invite my parents or siblings to our family get-togethers. I'd really prefer that they actually don't know where I live right now. I trusted my mom to not give my mailing address to the guy who molested me, and within a couple weeks of her promising she had not given it to him, I received mail from him. I cannot trust her to keep her promises (this is not the only time she has defaulted on her word to me) so I feel it's saner for me to just not tell her where I am living.
I get sick of people preaching tolerance for immorality. I've heard time and time again that I ought to forgive my offender because Jesus loves him and Jesus will forgive him if only he asks and repents. This is true. I believe that God has the power to forgive anyone of any sin if that person is truly repentant. I also believe, however, that there are still consequences of our sin. I don't believe that God just hands us cherry-flavored lollipops all day long, no matter what we do or don't do. I think we screw up and we have to deal with the outcomes.
Paul & I were discussing something along these lines over brunch yesterday. Specifically, that Jesus did preach to adulterers, tax collectors, Samaritans, those people that were not fit for the leaders of the synagogue, and whoever all else, to talk to. But he called them to change, to cast down their nets and follow him. He didn't tarry in the bad parts of town. He might stop and preach a bit, maybe heal a person or two, but he kept on the move. He was very nomadic.
It's a complicated idea, I guess; how God loves us just as we are, but at the same time calls us to change our ways and turn away from our sinful nature. I don't believe that we should surround ourselves with immoral people, or people who surround themselves with immoral people. Iron sharpens iron; like dissolves like. I still feel like I am doing right for my family - my kids and my husband - I just wonder how it appears to the outsider looking in on my life, who maybe doesn't have all the facts. It doesn't really matter, I guess, since if I KNOW I am doing what God has lead me to, all other opinions fall to the wayside. But still, I'm curious. Like a cat. It's why my friends call me whiskers. ;)
Monday, March 21, 2011
Fantasy and Reality
After weeks of thinking about my last post, I've decided I really need to provide some clarification. I said I miss my parents and wonder if they miss me. What I *really* miss is the idea of parents, if that makes any sense to cyberworld. I miss an ideological, fantasy version of our relationship; I don't miss the actuality of our relationship.
It would be great if my kids could know my side of the family and if they could have a close relationship with my parents/grandparents/brothers/aunts/uncles/cousins. It'd be great for my family, too; they really are missing out on some pretty amazing kiddos. Christina's not even 3 years old yet, and she's learning to read and write. I think that's pretty amazing, even if I am a little bit biased.
Yeah, it would be wonderful if we lived in a perfect world and my kids could know all of their grandparents, uncles, etc. But I don't live in a perfect world. And I'm choosing not to live in a fantasy world, where I just ignore problems and pretend like everything is okay. I'm living in reality - the reality that my parents showed no signs of caring that I was abused for the foundational years of my childhood. And the reality that they continue to pursue a relationship with my abuser. No, I really don't expect them to cut the guy out of their lives. I did expect, however, that they would show at least a tiny bit of concern for my feelings; a tiny bit of respect for my decisions. I hoped that they wouldn't just toss aside and ignore something that is core to who I am and how I view the world these days.
Maybe people think I'm cold-hearted or stubborn. Heck, some people would probably even say I'm wrong or I'm selfish. But when I look at reality - the words that were actually said and the situations that really took place - and when I let go of the fantastical relationship I wish I had with my parents, I'm better off - and my kids are better off - leaving that behind. We don't need the disrespect, the pain, or the emotional trauma.
I still wish I had that fantastical relationship with my parents, where they could come over for dinner, birthday parties, Christmas. But I'm accepting that this is only a wish and is certainly not the reality I've been given.
It would be great if my kids could know my side of the family and if they could have a close relationship with my parents/grandparents/brothers/aunts/uncles/cousins. It'd be great for my family, too; they really are missing out on some pretty amazing kiddos. Christina's not even 3 years old yet, and she's learning to read and write. I think that's pretty amazing, even if I am a little bit biased.
Yeah, it would be wonderful if we lived in a perfect world and my kids could know all of their grandparents, uncles, etc. But I don't live in a perfect world. And I'm choosing not to live in a fantasy world, where I just ignore problems and pretend like everything is okay. I'm living in reality - the reality that my parents showed no signs of caring that I was abused for the foundational years of my childhood. And the reality that they continue to pursue a relationship with my abuser. No, I really don't expect them to cut the guy out of their lives. I did expect, however, that they would show at least a tiny bit of concern for my feelings; a tiny bit of respect for my decisions. I hoped that they wouldn't just toss aside and ignore something that is core to who I am and how I view the world these days.
Maybe people think I'm cold-hearted or stubborn. Heck, some people would probably even say I'm wrong or I'm selfish. But when I look at reality - the words that were actually said and the situations that really took place - and when I let go of the fantastical relationship I wish I had with my parents, I'm better off - and my kids are better off - leaving that behind. We don't need the disrespect, the pain, or the emotional trauma.
I still wish I had that fantastical relationship with my parents, where they could come over for dinner, birthday parties, Christmas. But I'm accepting that this is only a wish and is certainly not the reality I've been given.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Missing People
Today is my parents 33rd wedding anniversary. I haven't seen them for almost a year and 4 months. I haven't talked to them on the phone for almost a year. I miss them. I wonder if they wonder about that; I really do miss them. I wish there was a way to fix our relationship, but I really don't see how we could do that. I've made a decision that I KNOW is best for me and my kids, and I feel like my parents have shown complete disregard for that decision. I WILL NOT have anything to do with the guy who hurt me for so many years; my requests to not hear anything about him and not see him were not respected over and over and over again until, finally, it was too much, too hurtful. So I stopped answering calls, responding to texts, answering emails.
But I still miss them. And it's sad that they don't know their grandchildren. They've never seen Hope. Mom& Dad's loss. But it still hurts when I think about it, so I try not to think about it for a while, but then I get nervous that I'm just burying the pain again and setting myself up for another emotional blow-up a year down the road. So then I MAKE myself think about it and life's tough for a few days, and then I make peace with the situation all over again. I am reminded that everything works out in God's timing, not mine. "Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord." "Blessed be your name when I'm found in the desert place, though I walk through the wilderness... on the road marked with suffering, though there's pain in the offering." I sing worship songs more often now than I think I ever have before. While I'm doing the dishes, cleaning the kitchen, folding laundry, changing diapers. Christina sings along and I LOVE it. Sometimes she even has special requests. :)
Someone asked me once what I would do if my parents tried to make contact again; asked if they could come over or if we could meet at a park or something. Honestly, I'm not really sure. I'm so hurt that part of me just doesn't want to risk being vulnerable; I don't want to get my hopes up that maybe we could establish a healthy relationship, just to have those hopes dashed all over again. But then there's another part of me that says the relationship will never heal unless I take a chance. Then the "Mama Bear" inside me rears up on her hind legs and makes me feel wary of letting someone into Christina's & Hope's lives when I'm not really certain that those people are going to be positive, consistent influences. I've seen a child make strong connections with people only to have those people leave; I do not want to see one of my children go through that.
So I'll stick with my current plan, I guess. Continue to pray for guidance, direction, and understanding. Continue to wait upon the Lord and turn ever blessing back to praise. My sweet Aunt Cammie reminded me earlier this week (after lamenting potential changes due to increase rheumatoid arthritis pain) to focus on positive things. I have a Savior who loves me in spite of my flaws. I have an AMAZING husband who continuously supports me and sacrifices for me. I have two of the most beautiful children a mommy could ever ask for. I have a wonderful support network of family and friends. That's more than enough to help me get through my days.
But I still miss them. And it's sad that they don't know their grandchildren. They've never seen Hope. Mom& Dad's loss. But it still hurts when I think about it, so I try not to think about it for a while, but then I get nervous that I'm just burying the pain again and setting myself up for another emotional blow-up a year down the road. So then I MAKE myself think about it and life's tough for a few days, and then I make peace with the situation all over again. I am reminded that everything works out in God's timing, not mine. "Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord." "Blessed be your name when I'm found in the desert place, though I walk through the wilderness... on the road marked with suffering, though there's pain in the offering." I sing worship songs more often now than I think I ever have before. While I'm doing the dishes, cleaning the kitchen, folding laundry, changing diapers. Christina sings along and I LOVE it. Sometimes she even has special requests. :)
Someone asked me once what I would do if my parents tried to make contact again; asked if they could come over or if we could meet at a park or something. Honestly, I'm not really sure. I'm so hurt that part of me just doesn't want to risk being vulnerable; I don't want to get my hopes up that maybe we could establish a healthy relationship, just to have those hopes dashed all over again. But then there's another part of me that says the relationship will never heal unless I take a chance. Then the "Mama Bear" inside me rears up on her hind legs and makes me feel wary of letting someone into Christina's & Hope's lives when I'm not really certain that those people are going to be positive, consistent influences. I've seen a child make strong connections with people only to have those people leave; I do not want to see one of my children go through that.
So I'll stick with my current plan, I guess. Continue to pray for guidance, direction, and understanding. Continue to wait upon the Lord and turn ever blessing back to praise. My sweet Aunt Cammie reminded me earlier this week (after lamenting potential changes due to increase rheumatoid arthritis pain) to focus on positive things. I have a Savior who loves me in spite of my flaws. I have an AMAZING husband who continuously supports me and sacrifices for me. I have two of the most beautiful children a mommy could ever ask for. I have a wonderful support network of family and friends. That's more than enough to help me get through my days.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)