Moral Truths

Will It Be My Fault?

Will It Be My Fault?

I sometimes think back to the early years of my kids lives. They were born in 2006 and 2007. Until 2015 I dealt with debilitating back pain. In 2013 I had my first back surgery which didn’t work. In 2015 I had my second surgery and almost 8 years later I’m still doing well.

But those early years meant a lot of mom laying on the couch or bed, trips to doctors, emergency rooms, and chiropractors. When we were preparing for my second surgery my daughter was terrified what would happen to her and her brother. She remembered that after the first surgery I couldn’t do much. Who was going to take care of them? Who was going to feed them?

As I remembered this today, it struck me that my husband and my roles are reversed now. He is frequently in hospital, or at doctors when I can drag him there (men!)., in bed and not feeling well. Now they worry about him.

Who is going to be there for them when he cannot?

Water Gun Fights In The Winter

Parents are central to a child’s survival and psyche. It is from them a lot of our self talk comes from. It is from them often we learn to rely a lot on others or be very independent.

I worry that because of all the physical pain I was dealing with, which in turn greatly affected my mental health, I was not enough. Add to that dealing with other people in the family’s mental health and the strain it put on me.

Did I raise children who will sit on a therapist’s couch one day because their mother ruined them? Because she wasn’t emotionally or physically available?

As they are teenagers now, I wonder through these years of their hating me one minute and breaking down to tell you they love you the next. Did I fill their needs? They were fed and clothed.

George Floyd, Riots, and a Door Opening

George Floyd, Riots, and a Door Opening

“I can’t pretend to know what the answers for moving forward are. But a door has opened wide for all of us. It is time for us to take a good hard look at ourselves and take a step through that door. A door to a place where we truly live the words that we have been taught. The teachings that God loves everyone. That there is no difference in his love for anyone based on their skin color or anything else. He just loves us all because we are his children, and treats us all equally. And so should we.”
Read more. . .

Divergent Views and Friendship

Divergent Views and Friendship

”Christ didn’t just hang out with his most devout followers. He spent time with people who thought differently than he did, that had different values than he did. He let his light shine everywhere. We need more light in this world and less darkness. Don’t let the polarization start with you. Let it end with you.” Read more…

The Place of Sin in Our Journey

The Place of Sin in Our Journey

The older I get the more I’ve come to a different understanding of sin. Frequently. I think we treat little sins as huge ones. But the thing is, it doesn’t matter. It’s not up to us to judge.

Blogging, Writing, and Finding “Me”

Blogging, Writing, and Finding “Me”

Often as bloggers, we have a lot of social media accounts. Between these and our blog stats, we are always looking at numbers. How many people viewed this post? How many people commented or shared it? Are my numbers up or down? Numbers can be depressing at times as we compare with others we see around us. Read more…

Making the Right Decisions and the War of 1776

Making the Right Decisions and the War of 1776

While I’ve always loved reading about the Revolutionary War, what I feel this book did a really good job of doing, was presenting the mental struggles that these people had to be going through and the consequences of the choices they made. Read more…

Beautiful Perspective From an Extraordinary Girl

Beautiful Perspective From an Extraordinary Girl

Recently my daughter has been asking to start a blog of her own. As we have the ability to make it private and only let specific people read it, we agreed.
I spent an hour or so one Saturday helping her set up the mechanics of a blog. I tried to be as hands-off as possible, to let her be in charge. I kept reminding myself it was her blog, not mine.
She had been working on her first post for a while when I happened to glance down and see what she named her blog- “An Extraordinary Girl”. That made me smile. Then I paused and reflected.

When I was thinking of what to name my blog and what I wanted it to be known by, I wanted people to know that I’m no one extraordinary. I’m just a Mom who has a passion for writing and social justice. Anyone could be writing words similar to mine but I am the one standing up (virtually) and saying them. I’m just “An Ordinary Mom”, and that’s okay. Ordinary Mom’s can do extraordinary things.
It struck me however how completely opposite her blog name was to the one I had chosen. “An Extraordinary Girl”, it made me smile. It made me happy to realize she thinks of herself in that way. The world will be telling her soon enough that she isn’t. I love her confidence in herself and who she is with that statement. She is extraordinary. There is no one else out there like her. She’s a daughter of God, a person of great worth. I hope she keeps this close to her heart as she grows and experiences life. It reminds me that I too am extraordinary in my own right and not just “An Ordinary Mom”.

When Discipline Goes Wrong (Or Unexpectedly Right)

My 5-year-old daughter’s room was a mess, like, can’t even get through the door mess. It didn’t matter how many times I cleaned it. It would always look like a tornado had hit 5 minutes later. Her habit of changing clothes 5 times a day since she was 18 months old didn’t help either.
I had been trying all day to get her to help me clean her room. She would do what probably happens at your house too- Pick up one toy, start playing with it and forget that she was supposed to be helping. Or I would find a toy under all the mess that she hadn’t seen in a while and it would be like Christmas morning all over again. She was SO excited. I was SO frustrated.
In exasperation, I climbed the stairs, got a trash bag and headed back down the stairs.
”If you aren’t going to help pick up your room I shouted in frustration, I will pack up all these toys and give them to a child who doesn’t have any toys. There are a lot of children who don’t have any toys or a place to live.” I then followed with my generation’s version of “There are children starving in Africa”.
Furiously, I started throwing one toy after another into the bag. When I was done I walked over to where she was still playing.
“See these toys”, I said. “These are going to kids who don’t have any toys. You have too many because you won’t pick them up.”
She looked up at me with her cherubic face and wide eyes, picked up a few more toys and came over and handed them to me. “Here are some more toys”, she said. “The kids without any toys will need these too.”
I stood there speechless.
I was trying to punish my daughter and teach her an important lesson about being responsible and taking care of your things. She didn’t learn that lesson that day. Instead, she taught me that we should always share with others less fortunate. Things don’t really matter. That there are more important things in life than a clean room.
She is now 10, and occasionally her room is tornado free. She didn’t learn the lesson that I wanted her to that day but she is slowly learning it. As I reflect on the lessons of that day, I’m more inclined to believe there is a chance that she won’t ignore everything I am trying to teach her (though it certainly looks like it at times). Often learning needs to take place at their own time, space and place. In ways, we don’t always comprehend and cannot manufacture.