I'm not crazy!

I recently admitted my history of self-hatred to you.  I was full of terror when I put that out there, and I still want to take down this post because it's just a little too honest.  I'm fairly certain that's the self-hatred creeping back in, telling me that people think I'm crazy or worse--that they feel sorry for me.

I struggle with accepting myself.  I'm emotional.  I actually think of myself as a bit of an emotional freak, as I feel everything intensely.  It can be exhausting.  I have wished my emotions away, often thinking life would be so much easier if I were a robot.  I said that to my husband once, and he told me he admired my ability to express emotions.  I had never once thought of it as something that could be a good trait, until he said that.

In the past year, I've come to realize that emotions, in themselves, are fine.  Healthy, even.  It's letting my emotions run my life that is the problem. I've learned that I can't base my actions on my emotions.  When my emotions are in charge, my head is full of lies, and that is when I am most likely to hate myself.  I am working to learn how to feel things in a healthy way.  I generally stuff every feeling I have until I'm so overwhelmed that I release a flood of crazy.  Kind of like this:

The fact is, I'm sensitive, emotional, introverted, and quirky.  I used to look at those traits and think they made me a freak.  And, well, maybe I am not like everyone else. But I do know I am who God wants me to be today.

In the end, I have to rest in the knowledge that self-acceptance is going to be a journey.  I can't just decide overnight to completely change, and actually change.  Only God can do that for me, and so far, he hasn't.  I'm okay with that, because I know that he knows far better what he's doing than I.  He sees a big picture for my life that I do not see.  I trust it's a good one.

Valentine's Day Challenge

I've been doing the Women Living Well Valentine's Day Challenge.  I was afraid that I'd see how I need to do better in this area, and that has been the case.

If you buy into the love languages, I can tell you that Hub's languages are touch and quality time.  I don't mean the quality time that I like.  Instead, he likes for me to sit on the couch with him while he plays a video game, or go with him to play disc golf.  He just wants me to be near by.  My love language is words of affirmation.  We really couldn't be more opposite.

This challenge is out of my comfort zone.  Hub doesn't especially respond to words (that I have ever seen), but that's not a good reason not to do it.  I want to remember the little things he does for us.   This challenge has become more about what I focus on. It's easy in the busyness of life to forget just how perfect he is for me.

He works hard, even when he doesn't want to, or he's sick.  He plays Monopoly with the kids.  He does the dishes and sweeps the floor when I need a little help.  He reminds me that I am a good teacher when homeschooling is hard.  He is faithful.  He loves the Lord.  He balances me out when I'm about to go off the deep end.  He listens to me think out loud.  He holds me when I cry.

He's pretty awesome.

Lessons from Grandma

When I was very, very pregnant with our oldest son, my grandma came and stayed with us.  Hub and I were both 25.  I can't speak for him, but I had no clue what it was going to be like.  None.  I had read all the books, but you just can't begin to grasp parenthood at all until it happens to you.

Thank God my grandma was there.  She was there when my water broke in the middle of the night.  Hub and I had been up so late, watching one of those crazy double-overtime hockey games.  We were exhausted.  Hub took me to the hospital, and my grandma stayed home and prepared for Scrappy's arrival.  When we got home, she held him, and rocked him, and convinced me I had to sleep.  Just like me, my grandma has never been a great sleeper at night, and she was up anyway, so I thought I might as well let her snuggle a little baby.  So I did, and she was so good to me.  She made me food, and made me drink water, and just loved my new little family.

A year later, I was pregnant with Funny, and my grandma was there, again.  She kept Scrappy and took care of him while Hub ran back and forth to the hospital.  She stayed for a few weeks afterward and helped us all adjust.  I remember sitting with her during one of Scrappy's nap times watching Bridget Jones' Diary, and she just was laughing and laughing.

My grandma has a great sense of humor.  She isn't easy offended, and appreciates an inappropriate joke.  One of the times I remember seeing her laugh the hardest was at an SNL skit starring Justin Timberlake.  (I'm a lady, so I'm not posting it.)  She loves to laugh.

My grandma taught my mom how to cook.  My mom and grandma taught me to cook.  We are connected through food, and I think that's the main reason why I love cooking so much.  I feel connected to my family and to my past.  Grandma taught me to make an awesome southern breakfast.  I can't make a biscuit without thinking about her hands, showing me how to be gentle with the dough so the bread would turn out right.

I remember when my grandfather was sick with cancer, and how my grandma took care of him.  My mom told me that it wasn't the first time my grandma had nursed the dying.  My grandma always took care of everyone.  She has taken in members of my family who needed a place to live.  I've moved around a lot, and wherever she was, was home.  I still look at her house in West Virginia as the place where I'm from and where I can always go.

In her younger days, she worked at the library.  She used to know mobsters when she lived in Chicago.  She grew up in a coal town in West Virginia, and my grandfather used to follow her around trying to get her attention.  They had 6 kids, including a set of twins and a special needs son.

I have never seen my grandma cry. But I have seen her laugh, and put others first.  I've seen her take care of things just because they needed doing, without complaint.  I have seen her love her family.

My grandma has been very sick and in the hospital for a few weeks.  I'm going down to see her next week, and I can't wait to tell her how much I adore her.  Thanks for letting me share it with you, and for letting me "think out loud" about her influence in my life.  I'd love to hear a stories about your grandparents.

The Me I Am Becoming

The person I am today barely recognizes the person I was at the
beginning of this year. It's rare that I get the occasion to see
myself with enough clarity, casting off the lens of self-criticism I
typical view myself through, in order to see how much I have changed.
One of my recurring prayers is that God will make me want to be
obedient, and that he'll make me better. I tell myself at least once a
day, "I want to be a better person."  My false reality--the one in
which I am composed entirely of negative characteristics and cannot
find one good thing about myself--has ruled my life for over 30 years.
 This occasionally alternates with another lie, in which I am so
awesome that I cannot comprehend why someone wouldn't love me, or take
my advice and just do what I said, or want to be like me.

In both instances, where I puff myself up, and where I beat myself
down, I am drowning in pride.  My self-centeredness scares me.

As this year has progressed, it's become evident that it's time I stop
believing lies. I'm not actually worthless, horrid, and hideous.
Neither am I the person with all the answers that everyone should be
listening to. I have spent more time this year in intense Bible study
than ever before.  For example, I've read and reread and outlined and
discussed Philippians, because I want to choose joy. I want to know
what to do and then act on it. I cannot tell you how often I've read
Proverbs 31, looking for a glimpse of myself.  I've spent the better
part of 2012 filling my head with the truth in order to recognize and
combat lies. It was no accident I ended up in a small group studying
The Truth Project.

I need to hear and believe the truth.

At one time, I thought the me of 12 months ago was crazy, weak,
pathetic, sad, and heartbroken.  That was my identity and I lived that
out.  I could not comprehend why I could not control my thoughts, be
different, be better.

Early in 2012, I prayed often for God to make things different. I
wanted him to just take away my problems. I yelled at God a lot.  I
questioned his wisdom and didn't trust him.

Finally, finally, God got me to settle down and be quiet long enough
for me to hear the truth. I was trying to change things. I would do
this or that and things would be different. Everything in my own
power. No wonder it didn't work.  Rather than cling to the truth of
God, I clung to my fear.

I still fall so short of who I am going to become.  No, I don't like
that God has placed a spotlight on my pride.  But I know it's what I
need.  I need to see that by believing I was unimportant and unloved,
it was, in essence, my way of telling God I knew more than he did.
I thought, he says all these good things about his children, but he means
everyone BUT me.  I was calling God a liar.  That's pretty arrogant.

While I don't like seeing how critical and bossy I can be, I have hope
that I won't always be this way. No longer am I crippled by my
negative thoughts.  I'm beginning to learn to be humble and obedient.
I am not always excited to change, because I know it's going to hurt.
That anxiety is something I keep giving to God.  I pray he will make
me want to obey him.

I can't change, but God can change me.

And now, I wait.

Music is my friend

I like music.  Okay, I lied.  I actually love music.  It's more of a violent passion, really.

I've been known to say ridiculous things like, "I'd like to curl up inside that song."  I am positive that someone else out there can relate to this.  Music helps me feel feelings that I ordinarily would lock away and ignore. I can feel sadness, anger, frustration, joy, happiness, and hope.  "On the Surface" by Rosanne Cash fills me with grief, "Monster" by Skillet tells me I'm not the only one struggling with anger and sin, "Eagle When She Flies" by Dolly Parton reminds me that I'm strong, "When Mercy Found Me" by Rhett Walker Band makes me feel loved.  Music is my friend, holding my hand, singing to me, "Let it out, baby.  Let it out."

I struggle with what people think about me.  (Everyone does, right?  RIGHT!?)  I want to be liked.  I'm not sure I'm quite likable, but I'm charming.  Once I love you, I develop a great concern about your opinion about me.  So much so, that when it looks like I might be making a genuine friendship, I throw up a wall and start to panic.  I start to push away, because while I love Florence + the Machine's "Breaking Down," I imagine that people do not want to hear that I relate to it.

Clearly, this is my issue, and I admit it.  Trust is not my forte.  I like my friends to think they know me, and then they just stay there where I put them.  At the same time, someone who will take the time to nudge me into a real relationship is priceless.  I do know that.  It's just so scary to me.  In the end, I just don't want my heart broken.

I have been blessed with some true friendships in my life.  Believe me, whether they realize it or not, I tried to run away from every single one of them.  My head is full of whispers that they don't really like me, they will betray my trust, they feel sorry for me, and that's just the tip of the iceberg.  But I think that a friend is much like a song, if I would let it be.  Sometimes I just want someone to wrap their arms around me and tell me I'm loved, and maybe whisper, "Let it out, baby.  Let it out."

Letting go of dreams

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a rock star, a teacher, and a writer.

Let's face it.  I had no chance of ever becoming a rock star.  I can't sing.  I quit the clarinet, and really, what rock band is looking for a woodwind player anyway?  Plus, I really don't want the rock star life.  I can sing in my car at the top of my lungs, and that makes me happy enough.  I let go of the rock star dream a long, long time ago.

I did end up becoming a teacher, though not at all in the way I had envisioned.  I was going to be a Social Studies teacher, and then I was going to be a school librarian, and then, well, it seems I became a homeschooler.  Trust me, that was not really on my radar until a few months before we decided to take the plunge.  So here we have a dream come true.

The third one, however, is a tough one.  I have an abundance of thoughts swirling in my head at all times.  Sometimes they are stories about made up lands and made up people, and sometimes I am really afraid that I am supposed to tell my own story.  I cannot even begin to tell you how terrifying that is to me.

I've always expressed myself best through writing.  I have a hard time being really open and real face-to-face.  Some of you are going to psychoanalyze that.  Anyway, it's so much easier for me to make sense out of all the noise in my head when I can take the time to write.  I'm not quick enough for most arguments.  I say the wrong thing ALL THE TIME.  Not just something that offends someone, or hurts someone's feelings, but I literally say things I don't mean, and then chastise myself for doing so.  I have to think out loud, and if someone isn't willing to listen to me go through that process, then there's a communication breakdown.  And believe me, it's not a trait that I am especially pleased to possess, but it's how I am wired.  My point is, writing helps me think out loud, but I can backspace and erase half of it and start over.  Verbal communication doesn't work like that.  I prefer writing.

When I was younger, I wrote constantly.  I wrote short stories.  I wrote (terrible) poetry.  I started writing a novel in junior high.  I journaled, a lot.  Really, this blog is my journal every now and then (like today), but I rarely journal anymore.  I did NaNoWriMo last year, and felt like a massive failure.  I wrote.  And wrote.  And it was just garbage.  Horrid.  I never let anyone read it, and I deleted it.

I have been thinking about becoming a writer, and maybe it's time for me to just let it go.  I mean, I got the teacher thing.  I feel like a rock star when I play Rock Band.  I don't need to hang on to being a writer.  I tell myself it's okay; I don't really have anything to say.  No one would want to hear it anyway.

On the one hand, I think I should just give up, and grow up, and let go of childish dreams.  On the other hand, I think dreams are one of the best things about life.  Writing has been that thing that I'll do one day.  I think this dream is part of who I am.

The other day I saw one of those cheesy quote things on Pinterest:

I realized something when I read this.  I am afraid of letting go and putting myself out there for critique and criticism.  I do not take criticism well at all.  I'm hard enough on myself that I can barely stand anything extra.  Fear is a terrible reason for me to stop dreaming about becoming a writer.  Quite honestly, I realized that I am already a writer.  No, I'm not a great writer, and that's okay.  But I do have something to say.  I have worlds to create, people to tell you about, and stories to share.  Maybe even my own.

I'm keeping this dream.

I'm Just in the Way

I often find myself disappointed and discontent.  I just spent an entire year studying contentment using Calm My Anxious Heart: A Woman's Guide to Finding Contentment.  Great book, by the way.  She really emphasizes that my failure to set my eyes on things above is leading me to discontentment.  So true.  It's very easy to do in the busyness of life:  keeping house, teaching kids, ministering through MOPS and at church, rinse, repeat.

I don't know how to correct this failure in myself other than reading my Bible and praying.  Even making myself busy at church doesn't necessarily mean that I am focusing on God, and not on myself.  Lately I am doing it on autopilot.

I find myself frustrated by this answer, like it isn't somehow going to work.  I haven't made any time for reading my Bible in a long time.  I have been praying almost every day, but my prayer life really is suffering and I know it.

I have also noticed that my expectations are often WAY too high.  I am a perfectionist.  Not that I will work at something until it's perfect, but that I have a vision of how it should be and if it isn't that way, then (a) I won't even make an attempt so as to avoid failure or (b) I'll be miserable because it's WRONG.  See, that is just expectation.  Someone wise once told me that if I use the word "should" a lot, especially about myself, it means I am expecting way too much.  I have high expectations of myself that I can never realize, and so I am disappointed in myself, frustrated, and discontent.

In this scenario, it's all about me.

There's where I've gone wrong.  I'm focusing on self.  What can I accomplish?  How can I change?  Instead, I need to focus on God, which would turn my questions into:  What can God accomplish through me?  How will God change me?  How can God be glorified through me?

I think that is exactly how I want to pray.  I know that I am called to be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let my requests be made to God.  There's the answer.  I have to share my heart and soul with God (even though he knows, he likes to hear).  I have to pray about my needs.  And do all of if with thanksgiving.  It turns out that time with God really is the answer.

I really over complicate things sometimes.

I've Got It Together

I find myself often frustrated by the lack of transparency amongst those I know (including myself).  I wonder, why don't people want to be who they are?  I think that sometimes we are afraid to admit our problems and struggles.  We can be afraid that the person who we are pouring our hearts out to will look at us blankly.  Or worse--in judgment.

I am a person that people tell their stuff to.  I have wondered how this happened to me--that people started telling me their problems.  I don't think it's because I am some kind of all-knowing advice-giver.  I don't think it's always because I am a good listener (still need some work there, too).  It isn't because I am extra-spiritual or godly or holy (if only).

It might be because I am imperfect.

You heard me right.  I am not perfect.  I can easily admit to you that I struggle with controlling my words.  With more difficulty, I admit that I struggle with all sorts of temptations.  If Hugh Jackman brought me a giant plate of bacon right now, I would have a hard time remaining calm.

There is value in being real.

We are all longing for someone we can talk to.  It's wonderful to think, This person gets me!  And...still likes me!

Isn't that what we all want?  I am like everyone else, and I hold things back.  I don't necessarily want everyone to see how messy I really am.  It's scary.  But I do know that all of the genuine friendships I have are full of messiness and imperfection.  Confessing things to one another really does help adjust our perspective.  We are ALL struggling.  Some people are good at hiding it.  But no one has it together.  And isn't that when God can get in there and do some of his best work?

Special thanks to Dan for the link to this song.

Sanctify!

So I've been thinking a lot lately about a lot of things.  The word "conviction" has been floating through my head.  In all honesty, it's a very scary word.  It means change is coming.  It probably means it might be uncomfortable.  On the upside, it's a necessary step toward sanctification, and that's a good thing.

Ah sanctification.  I confess that I had never heard this word until I jumped denominations into my current church, which is a Christian Missionary and Alliance Church.  Sanctification, as far as I understand it, is our growing into Christ-likeness.  It is the process by which we are refined, where iron sharpens iron, and where we are set apart from others for the purpose of serving God.  It is our journey toward holiness.  It's not just a CMA idea; it's in the Bible.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.
2 Corinthians 5:17


For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified.
Hebrews 10:14


And to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.
Ephesians 4:24

I recently gave a talk at MOPS where I mentioned this topic.  I became a Christian in high school, and for so many years, I thought my way was wrong.  Where was my magic genie Jesus?  Why was being Christian so hard?  What was I doing wrong?

I had surrendered to Christ, in that I accepted his free gift of salvation.  I let him be my Savior.

Now I was ready for him to be Lord of my life.

For me, these are two different steps.  They are two different acts of surrender.

Once I began to surrender, he began the process of sanctifying me for HIS glory, and not my own.  As I have grown into Christ-likeness (which hasn't always felt good or been easy), I have seen the difference in me.  Those who are close to me have seen the difference in me.  I ABSOLUTELY do not claim to hold any secrets, nor to sit around and sing Kumbaya, nor to be perfect.  I am far, far from perfect.  But I know that God is growing me into who I am meant to be, and that is what matters.  I have flirted with moments of peace and contentment.  I have seen what happens when I am obedient to what God wants from me.  And I want more of it.

I probably should take my own advice

I have a terrible habit of turning to my friends for advice.  I'm not saying that it's bad to ask for advice.  Or that it's bad to ask your friends for help.  I do think these things are important.  My problem is I go to them before I go to God.  That is a bad habit to be in.

I have to think out loud.  I'm an "outward processor."  Hence, this trusty blog that helps me figure things out.  That's a big part of why I talk through things with others.  But I realized, I was never talking about these things with God.  I've been whining all week to everyone about how long my to-do list is (why I am psycho over the list is another post!) and how I can't get anything accomplished.  I'm recovering from a cold.  The house is extra messy.  I'm tired.  Blah blah blah blah complain complain blah blah.

Then it hit me this morning.

Why don't I stop and pray about all this craziness?

Well, duh.

And so I did.  I specifically prayed for strength and self-discipline in accomplishing my tasks for the day.  And then I went a step further, and prayed that I would accomplish what God wanted me to accomplish.  (Scary!)

I definitely kept procrastinating.  I am really lacking in the self-discipline department.  But even amongst my Facebooking and wandering in circles, I managed to cross a number of things off the list.

Whew!

And even better, I made a delicious, healthy dinner for my family.  I talked to two of my closest friends on the phone (while doing items on the list).  I watched two beautiful girls show me their Christmas dances.  I laughed hysterically with my husband.

I am so thankful that I had my perspective adjusted today.  I still want to accomplish my list.  I just do.  I have issues, okay?  But I am trying.  The dishes were still dirty 10 minutes after dinner, after my custom dance show.  No one combusted.  Rats didn't come to my kitchen.  And I didn't have a panic attack.

You know what's nice about God?  He loves me even though I am a work in progress, and He's always helping me grow into who I am meant to be.

I've Got a Friend in Jesus

This is the talk I gave at my MOPS group this morning.  It turns out, after I re-read it, that this pretty much sums up everything I have learned through my 7 year tenure in MOPS.  It has truly been a blessing to me and my family.  If you are looking for information on your local MOPS group, click here.

I was asked to talk to you about friendship. The steering team asked me to speak because I've made some good friends here at MOPS. I don't really have a magic formula for friend-making. I don't have a step-by-step plan for you.

All I can do is tell you the few things I know on the topic, and hope that it helps you.

My dad was in the Navy for 20 years. I went to 4 schools in the 4^th grade. From that, I learned how to make a friend in 5 minutes. I'll go right up to you, and I probably have, and say, “Hi, I'm Carrie” and most likely follow it up with too much personal information too soon. Because, you see, I didn't have time for slow-growing friendships when I was little. I had to make a friend, and quickly, before I moved away. I made a decision at an early age to just trust people.

My sister, on the other hand, took the opposite approach. She thought, I'm only here for 6 months so why bother? She didn't even bother trying, but then lamented her lack of friends.

Unlike my sister, I had faith that I could make a friend everywhere I went. I continually put myself out there, and had faith and trust that it would work out.

I did an informal poll on what stops us from making friends—from putting ourselves out there.

One thing I found that can stop us, and definitely has stopped me in the past, is perfectionism. Maybe my kids aren't always angels. Maybe my kids aren't even the same ages as your's and so why would you want to talk to me? Maybe my house wasn't as fancy as someone else's. I might say the wrong thing. I wouldn't invite people over because I didn't want them to see how I lived.

Who do I think I'm kidding here? If you come to my house, are you really checking my bathtub for mold? I doubt it. I realized if I kept waiting until things were just so, then no one would ever come over. I learned that true hospitality isn't about how things appear, but how comfortable a person feels. I can be sitting in a cluttered home where there are kids yelling (only because that's a kid's normal volume) and be completely at ease. That is hospitality.

Honestly, this is a constant struggle for me. I guarantee that the next time I have a gathering of people over that I will still burst into tears about an hour before people arrive because things aren't going according to my plans. I want it to be just so. I know it's wrong. I know that nearly everyone doesn't care about the state of my house, and that those that do can just bite me. I know that. But it's hard to overcome. I have to keep reminding myself that my best is good enough. That my best isn't your best. We don't all have the same circumstances or skills. We don't even have the same standards of what “clean” means. No matter what we do, we are never going to make “perfect.” I'm never going to be “perfect” on this earth.

According to my highly scientific poll, the main reason we have a hard time making friends is because of fear. We're afraid. I'm afraid too. I might appear confident, but it's an act. I'm horribly insecure.

Every time I meet someone new, or stand here talking to you, or even after knowing someone for months or years, I am afraid. I am full of fear. Fear of saying the wrong thing. Fear of rejection. What if this person figures out I'm not really laid-back, cool & confident? What if they see the real me? I mean the core of who I am. Not who I put on everyday, but the real me. The me who thinks I'm a fool. I'm unlovable. I'm ugly. I'm a slob. I'm mean. I'm judgmental. I'm impatient. I'm inappropriate. I'm a filthy mess?

What if you find out I'm not perfect?

Would you still be my friend?

We all struggle with the same things. We just want to be known, and loved. I don't care how together you might appear to be, you're a mess. We should not sit here and think, “oh that so-and-so, she has it all together. Things look peachy for her!” Yeah right!

Why are we all so afraid? Why do we let fear dictate our behaviors? Do you know what the opposite of fear is?

Faith.

I don't have all the answers here. I can say that as my faith has grown, I've been less controlled by perfectionism and fear. I still struggle with them, but they don't consume me like they used to. I still want to be liked, but I know now who I really need to please. It isn't you or my family or even myself.

Think about your closest friend for a second. It might be a friend, sister or your husband. I suspect that person knows you pretty well. That person has probably seen you all blotchy and puffy after an ugly cry. That person knows you think some ignorant thoughts. That person knows you are not perfect. Yet that person chooses to love you. In fact, that person probably gets upset if you say something negative about yourself! This person doesn't see those ugly things. That person just loves you.

Every single one of us, at our core, thinks we're a mess. We wouldn't need Jesus without it! But the truth is, even though I have all those negative thoughts about myself, they are not the truth. Because I have faith, what I really am is strong, confident, loving and lovable, and becoming perfect in Christ.

Home really IS cool

In an attempt at openness, I want to tell you that homeschooling is hard.

I have really been struggling with our decision to homeschool.  It is not so much that I am not feeling called to do it.  I do think it's best for our children.  God has entrusted the care of my children to me, not the government, not even the church.  My problem lies more with my nearly crippling lack of confidence.

Somewhere along the way, I lost sight of why I am doing all this.  Homeschooling, mothering, housekeeping.  I got stuck in the drudgery.  I'm overwhelmed.  I look around and see nothing but chaos.  I am reactive, not proactive.  I have no routine--no rhythm to the day.  I kind of lost my joy.

I started to hear these whisperings in my ear.  Things like:
You are not smart enough.
You are not organized enough.
They're going to miss something important.
Just let someone else do it.

Oh dear.  I am a big believer that this is the devil's best way of messing with my head.  Little whispers of self-doubt.  In all of this, I started to think I had to be the one with all the strength and organization and know-how.  Me, me, me!

Seriously?  I know better.

Here are the facts, people:
God has called me to mother and teach my children.  He will equip me.
God doesn't care if I look organized or not.  He cares that I treat my children with love.
Education is less about fractions and predicates, and more about loving Christ.
God chose this path for me, and I need to be obedient.


Homeschooling is not the popular path.  It ostracizes me from almost everyone I know.  People at my MOPS group.  People at church.  Even people at the store ("shouldn't those kids be at school today?").  It isn't an intentional thing.  I certainly don't sit around feeling superior to anyone.  Quite the opposite.  Honestly, sometimes I view it as a burden in my life.  And, of course, that is when it is most difficult to be joyful about my path.

I have to be careful who I listen to.  I especially need to tell that little lying voice to shut up!  I have to intentionally seek out encouragement.  It isn't always easy to find.  A lot of people are waiting for us to quit.  Someone said to me, "Hm, I thought you'd be over this homeschooling thing by now."  Many people think it's just crazy.

Homeschooling is kind of crazy.  But crazy in a great way.  It is the hardest thing I've ever done (as I lump it into the "mothering" category at our house).  I have always been refreshed or encouraged at the right moments.  I know it is what God wants for our family.  I know He will direct me and give me the strength to do it.  I know He is already growing me in the process.  The growing part is a little frightening.  But, in the end, I pray that I will have grown in faith and obedience, and that Hub and I will have raised our children to love the Lord, and have equipped them to teach their children the same.

Looking for encouragement?
Jeannie's Journal post on fear
Before You Say "I Quit"
The Call of God from CMA

"For God sees not as man sees, for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."
1 Sam 16:7

This mom knows a thing or two

I often say, "I used to be smart." I really used to pride myself on knowing things, getting good grades, and being, generally, well....nerdy. Scholastic, one might say. And really, I am still smart, just about different things. Here's a little list of things I have learned as a result of becoming a mommy:

1. Handing out ice cream cones makes me a rock star.

2. I get God. I mean, kind of. Like a smidge more than I did before kids. I get the whole "loving you before you were born" part. And grace. Oh yes, grace. Not getting what you deserve. I get that one a lot better now.

3. My best parenting days occurred before I became a mom. Let's face it. I'll never be as smart about kids as I was when I was 20, and thought, "why can't that mother control her child? My kids will never act like that!" Bwhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

4. When there's a boo boo, or might be a boo boo, or a child remembers an old boo boo, just give her the band aid. They don't cost that much. Even I feel a little cheerier when I have a Snoopy band aid on my own boo boos.

5. A child's happiness increases as the amount of dirt and grime that covers him increases. And that's good. God made dirt, and all that.

6. I am pretty good at thinking on the fly. I don't know what I am doing, but I am getting good at making it up as I go along.

7. I had no idea what I was actually capable of until I became a mother. I only wanted 2 or 3 kids. I never thought I would have 4. I never ever thought I would homeschool, or stay at home with them. So while I have learned a lot about childcare and discipline and such, I have learned more about myself. So often, I look at myself in the negative (I'm not patient, I should have done this differently, why did I say that!?!?, etc.). I am certainly far from perfect. But I do believe I am capable of more now than ever before. I know that God will give me the knowledge (patience, strength, etc.) that I need to raise these children. He has already given me my heart's desire, and I am thankful for the four of them every day.

Get me off this pedestal, people!

Here's a secret that homeschoolers don't like to tell, for a number of reasons:

Sometimes, homeschooling is really, really, really, really hard!

We don't want to let on because a lot of people are just waiting for us to fail. Some people really enjoy saying, "I told you so!" And so we plaster on our smiling faces and tell you that, yes, yes, it's all going so very well! Thanks for asking.

I am not saying that homeschooling isn't awesome, because it is. It works very well for my family. Like anything else in life, some days aren't that stellar.

In reality, I yell at my kids at least once every 15 minutes. Sometimes I pray a band of gypsies will appear on my front lawn. And, yes, sometimes I want to throw in the towel and send them to school so I can get a job where I don't have to clean up macaroni & cheese and tell a child again that an S should not look like a 2, and 21 is not the same as 12!

For those of you that stayed home with your little ones before school, or that spend any time whatsoever with your little blessings (I suspect that's all of my 3 readers), you know that it's mothering that really makes a woman crazy! It isn't the homeschooling. Anytime I want to give it up, it's really only because I am tired of repeating myself, or picking up dirty socks and underwear, or I just want to be left alone to pee!

Homeschoolers do not have extra patience. Anytime you have said to a homeschooler anything that resembles, "gee, I don't have the patience for that," or "wow, you must really be patient," said homeschooler is laughing on the inside. There's no patience fairy! If only. It's merely a decision that we've made to spend our days delirious and walking the fine line between sanity and the nut house.

The fact is, we're all mothers no matter how we educate our kids. We probably could all use more patience, which is why God has sent us such trying little darlings.

Maybe my point is, that instead of putting us on some kind of Pedestal of Patience, and instead of homeschoolers putting public/private schoolers down, we should all be fist-bumping for motherhood. Because it's hard, but awesome.

And now I must go admire some chalk art.

Random, cryptic thoughts. Sorry!

Here are some things I have learned in the past week:

1. I have no control over anything.

2. I really like my small, dull town.

3. I can have a constant stress headache and still do laundry.

4. It's okay to buy my daughter a cake from the store, even though I've always made everyone else's. I don't think she'll end up in therapy over it.

5. My kids really shine a light on my--shall we say--inadequacies.

6. Wifing can be hard work.

7. I still sunburn after multiple sunblock applications.

8. God's grace is so huge, I cannot possibly understand it.

9. My friends are a gift. I am so blessed to have a number of real friends.

10. I need to let myself off the hook more.

11. Coffee is my friend.

12. Even though it might be scary, it's good for me to be open to God's path for our family.

13. It seems there won't be a menu plan this week.

14. Laughing makes it all better.