The S Word

I'm pretty sure that anyone that knows me just a little bit wouldn't be surprised to know that submission is not something I'm naturally good at. I've been greatly challenged in this area of late. But for the first time ever I think I did it right. Here's how it went down:

James made a choice. I one hundred percent disagree with this choice . . . but I'm going along with it. I've done that much before - but this time I added some prayer and some friends prayed with me and I made a choice of my own . . . and something in my heart adjusted. It's the sort of adjustment that you know only God can make because all I wanted to do was yell at James for a few days and then leave for a few months.

I think it was the combo of the praying and the choice on my part and the power of God Almighty that has caused me to love my husband so much the past few days. The choice I made was simple - it was to stay with him. Then I figured that staying and not making the best of being stuck with the fella forever would be a waste. The point of marriage is to show the world the love of Jesus and the unity and all that stuff. Our marriage should be such that we're better together for the furthering of the kingdom of God than we are apart. So if we're going to be together we might as well be beneficial for the great commission. 

Are you with me? :-)

So my realization today is that I actually submitted properly to my husband for, quite possibly, the first time ever. Submission isn't agreement. But I think it's kinda sorta going along with something you aren't necessarily a fan of, not arguing about it 'til you get your way, being at peace, not letting it affect your happiness, and most importantly for me - loving your husband beyond your own strength when you think he's wrong. This is a peace that only comes from God and it's a peace that I could only have found by my husband making the wrong choice. (In my own ever so humble opinion of course.)

It's a very weird experience for me. I've decided to trust - and it's not a trust that I have to have in every single one of my husband's choices (because it usually comes down to a matter of opinion) - but it's a trust that I'm taken care of - a trust in God that he has entrusted me to James. To now be at peace instead of angry frees me to see that James loves me and actually makes decisions that he feels are right - even though I may think they're stupid. I mean God used a lot of crappy people to do his work - and James is way better than Paul started out. I like James, he's a great guy, but it's really hard to let even a great guy make choices that affect you so much and then not be a big brat and make 'em pay for it. I actually want to be happy with my husband and if it means keeping my snide comments to myself and thinking of him above myself and being kind to him when I want to punch him in the face - then I think I'm starting to be ok with that sacrifice.

Of course, I'll need to keep the prayers going and keep making decisions in my heart constantly to not just stay physically - but to stay in every way that one can stay. To decide to be united instead of at war. Better yet - to be at war but not with each other. I have to admit - I need a war on one front or another. James is someone good to fight on the same side with - he's actually an excellent fighter. I'm impressed that someone as gentle as him can be such a good fighter. You should hear him on the phone with the credit card people.

So, submission. It's not completely terrible. I just hope James is making the right choices because I know I'm covered - but, as the leader, he's straight under God himself and God might smack him upside the head if James is taking the whole family down the wrong path. That will be so awesome. But it'll also be awesome if James is right and everything turns out just fine. 

 Note to James: remember at the marriage conference how you said that one of the things you were initially attracted to in me was my outspokenness? Hahahaha!

The Sacred Journey

This is a book review for The Sacred Journey by Charles Foster - a book I received for free from BookSneeze in exchange for an objective and honest opinion.

First I have to say: this is an extremely dangerous book to read. Read it at your own risk. The risk is to your comfort zone. Foster writes this book to connect the idea of physical pilgrimage to modern day Christianity - especially the cushy stuff-filled convenience we're familiar with. He points out that we spend our lives "walking" with Jesus, spreading the gospel "movement," and we're on our spiritual "journey." But many of us are unwilling to get off the couch. He presents the idea that physical. movement is directly connected to spiritual growth. And as I read, I came to agree with him.

Jesus himself was nothing like the modern Christian. To follow Jesus you had to actually drop everything and GO. The very act of the disciples going with Jesus physically showed repentance in leaving behind their old selves and completely changing their way of life. Jesus spent very little time in what then urban society and much of his time traveling and in the wilderness - after all, Jesus was a shepherd, not a farmer. The first thing he did with his brand new resurrected body was to go for a walk. Foster shows us what we've known all our lives but (I for one) haven't made the connection: Jesus doesn't just move in us, he moves us to move as well.

Jesus also had a strong preference for people that weren't in the cities but were on the "fringe" of society both in the physical and non-physical sense.  Who was one of Jesus' very favorite people? The freaky-deaky, desert dwelling, bug eating, bathed only by baptism John the Baptist. Jesus' entourage consisted of societies least favorite people. Tax collectors, sinners, ill-reputed women, even <gasp> Gentiles.

Foster first establishes that moving is good. He then processes to tell us why it's good. As Foster points out "It's impossible to point to an epic hero who's a couch potato." The hero isn't a hero without his journey. We live in fleshy bodies that were made to move. To not move them defeats the purpose: to GO into the world to subdue it and to SPREAD the gospel of Jesus. We go for two main reasons: to get rid of the junk we've accumulated (the physical "stuff" and the heart "stuff"); and we encounter God.

Foster goes on to share where to go (anywhere) and what to bring (nothing). And that's where the issue of the comfort zone arises. When we become what we have, that's when we need to leave it all behind and go to meet Jesus. "Your arms are lighter because you're not carrying so much, and they lift more easily." If what you bring can cushion the journey then leave it behind.

Focus on the journey, not on the arrival. Talk to weird people and go out of the way places. Be vulnerable, not a tourist. Find out that hardships aren't so hard after all - or that they are and laugh at them - or better yet: rejoice in suffering! Cope. Walk. Answer the questions that the road demands answers to - answers you can't avoid because you have nothing to keep you busy.

Then go home. As with the prodigal son, the beginning and the destination of the journey turned out to be one and the same. When you get home you find that you haven't reached a destination but started a new journey. Home is where you apply what you've learned about life, yourself, and God.

As I said already, this is a very dangerous book to read. But for me it was more than just a danger to my comfort zone. It actually stirred up something in me that the author didn't intend to stir up. It can be very easy for someone to take the good spiritual lessons in this book and twist them just a little bit to give yourself permission to run away. I felt very stagnant in my life when I began the book. Thankfully, Foster does make a point to make sure you're not skirting responsibilities and "leaving others to mop up the mess that you have left." My husband has enough to mop up already!

However, if life has become much too comfortable to satisfy; if your spiritual walk is best described as "stagnant" - read on and be inspired into mobility. Read on to experience an exodus from your couch. Read on if you're ready to drop everything and GO.

"Salvation is by grace, not by pilgrimage. But pilgrimage can help to create the conditions in which grace can work best."

Bandana Pillows

This past Christmas I had the idea to make pillows for all of the kids on my list. It was awesome. First of all, it wasn't hard but it was a bit time-consuming. I don't have a sewing machine so I was able to hand stitch each pillow and that made it feel a little more special to do for the kids that I love. Sewing is a nice thing to do while you watch tv so you don't feel like you're being completely useless.

How to:

So I went to Hobby Lobby and picked out two bandanas for each pillow. I picked what I thought each child would like best - Hobby Lobby has a pretty good selection: princesses, Dora, superheros, Toy Story, and then a variety of "non-movie" prints as well. I also bought a bag of stuffing for each pillow for the stuffing phase. I'd say each pillow was roughly about $5 with the two bandanas and the bag of stuffing. A pretty good deal.

I sewed the two bandanas around the edges with the pretty sides touching. Leave an opening, turn it inside out, stuff it (which Corrie and Jamie enjoyed helping with), and then fold the opening in on itself and stitch that up too. Then vacuum up all the extra stuffing the kids got all over . . . everything. 

I really loved making these - they fit so well into my budget because there are a LOT of kids I love. And it was cool to sit there sewing knowing that I was doing something special for someone in particular.

Detox

Nothing makes you feel more like a drug addict that going through detox. That makes sense though I guess. 

I had a prozac checkup a week or so ago. The doctor said that since I'm doing so well I can try going back down to my original dosage (20mg instead of 40mg a day) and see how I do on that. She said there'd be withdrawal, but I didn't realize it'd turn me into a crazy person. I feel like I'm on a constant rotation of happy and energetic and sad and yell-ish and nauseous and sweaty . . . and then I sometimes I feel like I need to just lay my head down and want to bounce off walls at the same time. 

Needless (or needful - based on how well you know me) to say - this is a completely new and extremely weird experience for me. Though I was rather rebellious as a teenager I never really did anything super "bad." My mama had such a tight rein on me growing up that a big part of my rebellion was jumping into puddles when my mom told me not to - yes, as a teenager not a six-year-old. Of course, there was also the sex . . . Anyway, when it came to mind altering substances, I have absolutely no experience. I've never done drugs - didn't even have to "Just say NO" because I was never offered any. I've never seen drugs and have never had any idea where to get them if I'd ever even wanted any. I never drank anything until I was on my honeymoon - they wouldn't let us buy anything at the first grocery store we went to because they thought I was paying James to get me booze since I was a minor. Even now, I rarely drink much because it costs money and is empty calories. I don't like the buzzed feeling of not being in control anyway. If I ever became a regular drinker it'd be to help my insomnia. As for the legal drugs - I did smoke a couple times but I enjoy a nice secondhand smoke more than an actual cigarette since most of my high school friends smoked while I hung around them. So all this to say - I've never been anywhere close to needing to experience any sort of detox. Maybe that's why it's hitting me so hard - like people that don't drink much getting drunk easier or something. 

I've been tempted to just go back up to my regular dosage of the prozac because of the withdrawal unpleasantness I'm dealing with. But I'm going to try to stick it out and let it balance out and see where it leaves me before I make a decision. For the time being, I'm really praying for patience from James since this isn't just a one day recovery period from a cold or something normal. Today when I was coming home from Walmart I really felt like crying (for no reason of course) but I couldn't let it come out. To explain how it feels to want to get a cry to come out just think about when you have to burp but it won't come up no matter how much air you swallow - it's like emotional constipation. So I tried to fake cry to get it started - but that just made me laugh - and then I thought <with irritation> "So glad my brain is finding amusement in this situation" like my brain is a separate person sabotaging my crying constipation. That made me laugh again. Which made me sad. 

I know that I sound crazy - that's why I'm writing today. I'm hoping that putting it out there will get some of it out of my head a little. Also - I wanted to provide an example of why I never started a blog before I went on prozac. This is utterly ridiculous. It's bad enough to have the crazy in my head but to add to all the crazy on the internet is like shootin' a dead horse. So yeah, lots of weird feelings today. It's like the medicine is wearing off enough to make me super sadish but I'm still rather cheerful about it. Ask James - I go from yelling to laughing to flopping on the couch within the span of seconds. This afternoon I was laying on my back on the couch after an occasion of what I just mentioned and jokingly asked him to bring me my mt. dew - but with a straw so I could sit it beside my neck and not move but still drink it. Even though I immediately said I was joking - he did it anyway. I guess he knows that I don't joke about mt. dew. Also - Dannie makes me feel happy so he set her up in front of me with the high chair and she just laughed at me while I poked her with my foot.

Another thing I was thinking about today is how this dosage adjustment will affect my parenting. I yelled at the kids on Wednesday. I can't remember why but it was for a lame reason. Probably to do with cleaning up something that I shouldn't have had to clean up or whatever. So I've really been debating with myself on if this lower dose is a good thing for my kids. Should I do the higher amount and be happy mommy or do the medium amount and be crazy yelling mom sometimes and learn how to tame the flesh and all that good Christian stuff. Then I had the thought that God made me this way. God gives us children that are best suited to being raised by the parents they have. So MAYBE my kids need to be yelled at. My mom yelled at us a lot and I like her and love her and all that now - as do my brothers. Maybe if my mom hadn't yelled at me then I would have rebelled even worse than the puddles and the sex and then detox would have been something I learned about a lot earlier . . . wow, I feel like such a deep-thinking druggie right now.

It would be great if you'd pray for me. Pray I get through this chemical adjustment period, that the people that live with me get through this chemical adjustment period, and that I can make the right choice on what dosage I should end up taking after I get past this part of the crazy.  I'm going to go have a hot flash now and hope that I still have a few friends left tomorrow.

Just keepin' it real.

At All Times.

Does anyone else want to smack their kids upside their heads when you hear them say "Well you're not my friend anymore!" to their contemporaries? Right . . . me neither . . .

I've been thinking about those few little words a lot lately. As grown ups - we can't say that anymore and still call ourselves grown ups. But we think it and feel it. So the friendship issue can apply to all of us - not just the kids.

The first thing I think of when I think of the word friendship is usually one of two sayings - both from rather wise people. The first is from my mom. "If you want to have a friend, be a friend." I'm sure she didn't make it up but she's the one who first said it to me when I was about middle school age and I'd cry and cry for want of a "best friend." And she's said it many times after that as well. It's what I think of every time it comes to mind that I like someone and really want to be friends with them. I can't just sit on my butt and wait for them to come be my bosom buddy. I actually need to be a friend to get one. Guess what - it works. The other thing I think of is by Solomon: "A friend loves at all times." Proverbs 17:17. It was one of my very first memory verses as a child and has provoked lots of thought about it's deeper complex meaning through the years. Not really - it's pretty straight forward.


What's striking is that in both pieces of advice it's about what I need to do - not about what someone else needs to do to earn my friendship. It doesn't say: here's how to make someone like you and love you all the time, rather it says what I need to do to be a friend. I have no control over someone's response to me being a friend and loving them at all times - I just need to worry about myself - as I'm always telling Corrie.

So I had a smallish discussion with Corrie about this the other day - after I heard her yell the "You're not my friend anymore!"business at a "friend." I let her know that, first of all, it doesn't matter if they were BEING her friend or not - she can only control if she's being a friend or not. And, second of all, I let her know that she wasn't being a friend to start with if she felt the need to say that. If you can turn on and off your affections then you're not loving at all times and you don't get to label yourself as a "friend." After that she asked if she could have Ramen Noodles and I asked her if she heard what I was saying and then she said yes and then I sent her to bed . . . anyway.

Here's the Jesus part. He loves at all times. He doesn't turn his affections for us on and off based on if we're being jerks. We're supposed to be like him. Abraham was a friend of God. Perhaps it's a bit simpler than we thought it was. Perhaps Abraham loved God at all times and that's what made him a friend. God is with us through fair or foul weather - why shouldn't we do the same? We can only control ourselves.

Spiritual Barf - So Not Gross

Sunday our pastor asked us a question at the end of his sermon. You know the kind - where they say that they feel like it's a message for someone here today and then you're like: "Oh crap, that's totally me." He asked us to search our hearts and see if there was something we need to sacrifice - something we needed to give up that's hindering our growth with God. (I'm sure that's not an exact quote . . . but along those lines.) For myself it's a question of what am I wasting my energy on that I need to be using to get closer to my Savior. 

So as I was standing there with my eyes closed beside my husband . . . thinking about all the things he needs to give up and about how applicable the message is for him . . . you know I'm not the only one . . . and I felt God give me a one word answer. Here's the weird part. It wasn't for anyone else but me! Who woulda thought. 

It's so cool when Jesus Jesus Jukes you. Because he does it nicely and gently and lovingly - not like me. I like to use my whole body and kind of jump as I stab my finger at you and yell "You just got Jesus Juked!" But with that one word from my Lord I just stood there with wide eyes and thought "Whoa. I had no idea. I'll get right on that God." 

And I did get right on it. I've often sat those moments out - let others have their special revelations from God while I just chill or think of how others need to be having these moments with God. But Sunday I prayed. I acknowledged how right he was about that one thing I need to give up; I gave it to him; I said: You deal with it - I'm guess I'm not doing as good a job at fixing things as I thought I was. And then . . . he took it. I didn't get a super special feeling to know he took it - rather it's been evidenced in the past few days.

Remember my use of the word "energy?" I have more energy. It's kind of like God is spiritually barfing all over me and it's so awesome. The energy I was using to focus night and day, day and night on that one thing had been taking all of my energy! I'm free now! It's like I deleted my cookies and now I run smoother and more efficiently. I have more space in my hard-head . . . I mean hard-drive for what HE's been saving for me. He just needed me to free up the space. He's been pouring revelation after revelation onto me and it's so much and so awesome and so non-stop that I can't write it all down - I actually had to stay AWAKE after my kids went to school and I started writing . . . and it wasn't fast enough . . . so I started typing and taking notes and jotting down ideas and trying to put these revelations into words that I can comprehend when I have time to go back over it. 

It's fantastic. It's riding the line of overwhelming. I think God's doing it that way on purpose. He's really showing me how much he has for me and how much he wants to give me and all I have to do is basically get over myself. 

I'm so excited I could barf.

Out of the Depths of Myself

This may read more like a journal entry than I usually write . . . you'll note the use of the phrase "for me" and such throughout . . . this is my testimony not what I think is the best for everyone. :) 

A lot has gone on for me in the past year. Right before I discovered my pregnancy with Dannie life got so much worse for me. Nothing in the physical happened - I just became more and more unable to deal with normal everyday life. What depression was like for me:
 

I've never had a harder time describing something than I have with depression. It's hard to put into words and impossible to know what it's like unless you've experienced it - which I'd rather people not have to learn in that way! It felt like trying to drag my feet through mud - except emotionally. Things that were simple and normal and not difficult were extremely hard for me to handle. I got out of bed but with great difficulty. I remember laying in bed hearing James and the kids doing life out in the living room while I tried to talk myself into simply standing up and going out to face everyone. There was lots of yelling, crying, mental chaos and confusion and general hopelessness.There were mostly bad days and the goods ones were so few and far between that I couldn't remember the last one in between them.

I treated my husband and kids like crap - but I didn't know of any other way to BE but bridezilla without the bride part. It made it difficult for my family to do anything but behave in whatever way would make me happiest rather than just being themselves. Depression leaves no room to be anything but selfish. I hated how I was but couldn't seem to manage being any other way. The smallest thing would set me off or get me down or ruin my day. It's like being trapped in a prison of negativity. As I've already said - it's very hard to describe. I feel like I'm making it sound much worse than it was but at the same time, it was also much worse than what I'm describing. What's up with that? 

It was at it's worst when I wanted to leave. I thought about it a lot. Literally leave - take whatever cash I could find and go somewhere random and hideout until I could get myself together. The issue wasn't with my family - it was with myself. I knew I was hurting them and I didn't want to stay and keep hurting them. I really thought it would be better for them to have no wife/mom than to have the mess that I was. I never did leave. I knew James would think I left him because of him and that wouldn't be true but wouldn't have kept him from thinking it. If there had been a way to ensure my husband and kids would know that it truly was a "me not you" situation then I would have left. I'm glad I didn't end up feeling the need to take that route. I'm glad I found another solution.

It was this line of thinking in part that lead me to the realization that there was something seriously wrong with me. Surely most wives and mothers don't think about leaving the man they married and the kids they gave birth to! I slowly came to see that it just wasn't normal for me to be so angry and so sad just about everyday. It wasn't normal for me to be unable to deal with making dinner for my kids. There being a stack of dishes AND laundry may be overwhelming but not to the point of tears. The sound of my kids voices shouldn't be enough to push me over the edge and yell for them to go to their room until I called them out.

I also "interviewed" a few people that seemed like genuinely happy people - not just fakers. I asked them if it was their salvation that turned them into happy people or if they were like that even before being saved. Is it possible to have a happy positive personality even when things aren't going perfectly? I came to the partial conclusion that it was a me thing. I know it's also a choice, but there's something to predisposed personalities.

I also do want to address the spiritual side of my depression. I truly feel that Jesus could have healed me (more later on how He DID heal me). Jesus is big enough to have worked over time with me to get through the root of my depression and taught me many lessons along the way. Or he could have snapped his fingers and "fixed" me. And if I was single and not hurting others constantly through my depression then I would have chosen to get through it without drugs. I wish that I could have done it that way and had it be just me and Jesus and the nitty-giritty and letting him heal me and all that - but I decided to do what I felt would be best for all of us. I think everyone can agree that there are different solutions to problems when you're in different circumstances. For me - a solution in any form was welcome!

Around the time that I found out I was pregnant I had an instant but short-lived boost in my mood. I was so happy to be pregnant that it sustained me for a while. I think it was a mix of euphoria and hormones that did it. But happiness dependent on circumstances doesn't last very long. It was unfortunate that everything came to a head while I was pregnant. The decision came down to risking an unborn baby by taking medication or risk my two older kids and husband going through more of what they'd already gone through. My midwife and doctor said they women do take prozac when necessary during pregnancy and things were so rough that it felt very necessary. I tried for a while to go without but it was just a horrible hopeless time for me. After the initial gladness at the pregnancy I felt all the more sad and hopeless that I was bringing another kid into the world to screw up. So I started the lowest dose of the drug - and thankfully that did it for me through the pregnancy. (I did need to up it a little after I had Dannie due to a hormone drop that never really balanced out.)

Prozac takes around 2-4 weeks to start working. But I felt immediate relief that wasn't connected to the drugs kicking in. I felt hope. It was hope at life getting better soon. I didn't know exactly what that would look like or how it would change me or my personality or how it would feel - I just knew anything would be better than what I'd been dealing with. And I was ready to see what it could do for my family life.

I can't remember the exact details of the situation but I do remember the first time James looked at me funny because I didn't respond to something the way he'd expected me to. Hardly anything bothers me anymore. The kids can cut up and I barely notice. Housework isn't overwhelming - whether I decide to do it or leave it for tomorrow. I have patience. I laugh at what makes weaker men cry. :) I can be faced with a choice about how to behave and make a logical decision. So, if I do yell it's because I've rationally decided it's what I want to do. 

The worst part of the drugs has been when I really am upset about something and can't seem to let the emotion out to feel it. I can almost feel my brain blocking the tears. Sometimes a girl just wants to have a good cry and it's weird when I can't. I hate when it prevents me from expressing how passionate I am about something. It's a side effect I'm very willing to have though. Maybe I'll make and sign I can wear that says: <insert tears here> or something . . .

So, I do think Jesus healed me. You know how God like uses people and things to like answer prayers? I think he used Prozac to heal me. I think he guided me into that choice. I think he made it react and work in my brain when it doesn't for some people. It's the right thing for me - at least for this season. I look forward to one day going off the medicine and learning how to truly control myself with only God's help. To really see what it's like to trust him and have joy in my circumstances. For now I need this crutch - maybe until my kids move out or are old enough to understand things better.

What it's really done for me is to help me move on to the more important things in life. Instead of using all of my energy to pull my feet out of knee deep mud with every step - I can walk easy - I can give my energy to my kids, my husband, my Lord. My cleared up brain has helped me grow closer to everyone in my life. Not just my family and friends but most importantly - Jesus. I've been so free to come to so many new revelations that I've worked my whole life to attain. I can't say for sure - maybe ask James or someone that can see the before and after - but I don't think I'm as selfish. I'm not sure if I've ever thought of others as much as I have in this last year. When you have such sadness taking up so much of the inside of you it's really hard to focus outward. Life feels good now that I don't have to feel overwhelmed and second guess every thought and decision I have. I'm excited about . . . whatever. I feel happy, joyful, peaceful, THANKFUL. Life is so good and nothing has changed at all - except me and my serotonin levels.