Let Me Be Clear

Ive had a battle going on inside of myself for a month or more now on starting this blog. I guess I haven't known how to exactly start it. Not because of writer's block. Not because of a time issue. Maybe more of because for the first time in my life, I actually don't know what to say. Honestly, there is nothing I could say to make the situation better between my sister and myself. The damage has been done. And it had continued to be done over and over and over. And it was done by me. I have felt helpless and hopeless because no matter what I did to make things right, I would still do something to make things wrong and then the wall between us would continue to go back up again. This last time, I honestly felt a peace about it because I finally feel in my heart that it needs to be final. I no longer feel the urge to text or message her over and over like a needy girlfriend. My kids are grown and don't need us to have a close relationship anymore. So I am at peace and know it is for the best. I had asked my husband not long ago if his life would be better without me. He responded with, "It would probably be a lot less stressful, sure. But I don't want to do life without you." I have been struggling really hard with this and the things I have put on my sister. I don't want to put stress on the ones I love. I mean, that's not what love is, right? Since that day with my husband, I have changed the way I react to him and I will say, things have definitely changed quite a bit between us. As far as my sister, I am not sure that we could ever get to that place. There is too much hurt involved from years of toxicity and abuse on both sides of the equation. I have manipulated and suffocated. I have taken the spotlight selfishly and ignored her when she needed me most. So I get it. I have been following my doctor's plan closely with medications, therapy and meetings. But if I stray from any of those, I become "crazy" Mandie. I become "hurtful" Mandie. I become "what's in it for me" Mandie. I absolutely hate that person. I hate her. However, I also can't keep up with my strict regimen without the support of my family. I am extremely thankful for my kids but I do not want to put this on them. I am grateful for their constant love and encouragement, but it is not their responsibility. It is really noone's responsibility. I have such a wonderful group of friends that are on a similar journey of both mental as well as physical health challenges as myself. I could not ask for more and I thank God daily for those that are in my life. I have learned through loss of relationships to not take them for granted and let them know how much I appreciate and love them and let them know I am here for them as well. By doing this, the bond between us all has blossomed and grown tremendously. When I do falter and stumble, I have learned more of how to handle it. I have written a sort of "relapse" plan to put into action. Not only this, but I've noticed since the beginning of last year when I started my road to recovery, the times I have relapsed, it didn't last long. I have come out of that place with ease and I'm able to shake it off a lot better. I'm able to remember what I have been taught and put that relapse plan into action. Even if I have to force myself to a meeting, I go. Even if I make up excuses in my head to not go, I just force myself because I called someone to tell them I will be there. I called someone to tell them I had a drink or I took a pill. And before I know it, all of my AA friends are reaching out to me to encourage me. I know anyone can do this but these ladies have been where I've been and done the things that I've done. We have a friendship and a bond that cannot be broken. When I relapse and get depressed and manipulate and lie to all of them, they don't disappear from my life. They are my true sisters. They are my family. So after these calls and texts, etc, like the prodigal son, I go back home to the walls of the Alcoholics Anonymous club houses. I get my coffee and sit down next to one of those friends. I get a hug and we cry. Then they all start to trickle in. I get so many hugs and the, "I'm so glad you found your way back!" After the meeting, I find the strength to go up front to get my 24 hour chip that states I'm here and I want to make that step of faith that says I will be sober for the next 24 hours. Because thats what we are all about. One small step at a time. One day at a time. Then a week passes by. Then a month. And so forth. Today marks one month for me. It's a humbling thing to admit that. I was at 6 months going on 7 and then relapsed. I started building my sobriety up again. Then, another relapse. Oh and then, mental breakdown on top of that relapse. So here I am. One month and hopeful. I'm strong and faithful. My heart is full because my support system is wide. How do I know I won't stumble again? Truthfully, I don't. I've learned to not promise people that I'll never do it again. I also can't make it up to anyone the things I have done. The things between me and my sister will never change. No matter what I do, there is no forgiveness on her part and I do understand that because she has been there and seen me at my absolute worst. She has been hurt tremendously. And I'm extremely tired of hurting everyone. I think that's my number one motivation right now. That is what drives me to better myself. If I could go back in time....I think about this all the time. My therapist tells me not to do this to myself. Not to think about the "what ifs". We can't change the past but we can definitely have a better future. Still...If I COULD go back in time, I'm not sure honestly that I would change much. Becoming an addict has made me a stronger individual. Even with relapses, I might take a step back but then I take two more steps forward. It is all part of my journey with recovery. When I first relapsed, I was absolutely crushed and so disappointed with myself! Then, at a meeting, I heard the word, "chronic relapser". It made me chuckle to myself. I thought, gosh, that would be terrible to relapse so much or all the time like that. I mean, are you even sober really?? Then this same person spoke about their 9 years of sobriety that followed these relapses. She went on to explain how these relapses were definitely hard and knocked her back down but what was important was that she didn't stay down. She kept getting back up. Every single time. Until her relapses were fewer and far between. I admired her. She was a friend of my sponser's and soon took me under her wing. I learned in the last couple of months that just because you have a sponsor or someone you meet with doesn't mean you can't have anyone else to hang out with that can be an influence or lead you. Anyways, I am getting away from my topic! IF I could go back, I am not sure that I would change all that much. And to my family, I am sorry for saying this. Terribly sorry. To my ex-husband and to my husband now. I am sorry. I don't want to change the person I am today and the change that continues to happen to me daily or the growth that is happening to me because of addiction. I hope y'all can understand that. Maybe not today but someday. One thing I can tell you is that I'm learning every day something new about myself and it's exciting to say the least! Another thing I'm learning is to love harder and to show my love in new and different ways. I'm tired of being the toxic one of the family. I'm tired of being the crazy one. I am definitely tired of the diagnosis hanging over my head. I think we are all bi-polar and autistic to an extent if we looked within deep enough. I'm tired of being sick. Very tired of being sick. I'm on a mission now with this surgery behind me and a possible transplant in the future. I know that will take years but it still gives me hope! I can do my part in the meantime to take good care of myself for when the time comes. A big conversation I had with myself was, "What would I actually say if I could just apologize for the things I have done?" What would that even look like? The Chicago song from the 80's comes to mind, "Hard for me to Say I'm Sorry." Mainly these lyrics: After all that we've been through I will make it up to you, I promise to And after all that's been said and done You're just the part of me I can't let go Although life is not a song and we don't live life like the lyrics. If we did, we would all be able to make up the wrong doings of our past. But we all know I can't promise to make it up because it would take a lifetime. I also coould not promise because I could not guarantee that I would never make a mistake again. In fact, I probably could guarantee that there would be a mistake. And because of that, I just feel like maybe it is best for me and my sister to be estranged. It will just kill me inside to go through it all again. To continue to hurt anyone. Then to all of a suddenly not be spoken to. It's a sick cycle carasoul that I just want to get off of. That's all I have and until another day and another blog, be blessed and be merry!

I Wasn't Counting

I wasn’t counting.

I was feeding you on the sofa in the dark, I was rereading the directions on a box of fish sticks. I was down the hall or high up in the bleachers, stranded in the pick-up line. I was listening in between dreams for a feverish cry or making another cup of coffee because the first one grew cold. I was trying to learn math again.

I wasn’t counting that the years would blur the memories, that the big moments would be mostly too grand to hold. The first day of kindergarten. Your ruddy face beaming, below a red and yellow party hat. Eight today, and then ten. In my mind you are forever twelve. The very last time I dropped you off at practice, stop here mom, I’ll walk. The bittersweet picture of the pretty girl leaning her head on your shoulder.

I wasn’t counting because there was so much to DO. I was busy, I was consumed, with devotion and investment and profound love, the kind that makes you forget to feed yourself. The kind that makes you want to write about it on Facebookor MySpace. The kind that makes you crazy and tired and lonely, sometimes out of your mind.

It is a lot of pressure to be told, “enjoy every moment.” Because as a parent we are mostly too busy living, to notice when a moment…is a moment.

Until suddenly it sneaks up, the feeling that there are so few moments left. One day I am preheating the oven and there is time to think—and so much less to do. And it is impossible not to notice as I serve the fish sticks and macaroni without you.

And this is when I start to count.

The first day of your senior year, the last first of so many firsts that hit cruelly every time, even when I think I cannot be hit any more. The fierceness of 18, braver and wilder, more grown than 16. Twenty-five dollars starts a checking account. Three hundred days until graduation. The last time you sleep in your bed down the hall.

And when there were no more numbers left, I curse time and cry for myself. How can I cry for you, as you begin your life, the one I was growing you up to live? 

So I will lean into a new chapter, I will join a book club or get a tattoo. I will cut my hair or write a novel. I will drink my coffee, hot. But I will keep counting—the days until you come home for Thanksgiving, the times you call just to talk. And when you don’t call, I will consider that the silence means you are leaning in, too. That you are making it count.

Right now, you are looking up at me from the football field, making sure I was there. Playing your heart out. What a game. Every single game.

You are calling to tell me who's turn it is to boast after the last basketball game. Me not realizing it would be our last season to enjoy together under the same roof.

How fast it goes, my love.

I wasn’t counting on that.

Living My Best Life

I was writing in a journal today and it was one of those sort of guided journals. You know..the ones that try to help you along when you don't know what to write about. Whoever came up with this idea is pure genius. A journal for writer's block. Anyways, my question today was, "What do you live for?" As a mother, you think, well gosh, this is easy. As a Christian, the obvious answer is there. Oh and if you're a wife, your husband has to be listed somewhere at the top, right? Write it all down and another entry sealed up. Done and done. But...ARE all those things what I live for? Or is at least one of them right? I will say this. WHAT and WHO I'm living for has changed so drastically over the last several months. I see things so much differently these days than I ever have before. So, when it came right down to it, I realized it was actually hard to answer this question with just one word or with a simple phrase now. My life has changed so that now, my answer is complicated, yet it gives me so much more peace. I discharged from rehab on January 8th. To say I was excited to start living my life based on the principles I had learned would be an understatement. I was motivated. Determined. I was ready. The very next day, I fell on ice and broke my leg in 4 places. I was devastated that an injury of this magnitude would happen to me right after stepping out of a successful duration of treatment. Was this a test? Did God have some terrible sense of humor? None of it made sense and I began to cry out of disappointment and anger on a daily basis. I felt alone and on top of everything, I felt my recovery would suffer due to not being able to be mobile and get to meetings or outings with those positive reinforcements I so desperately needed. As the anger inside me grew, my relationships at home took a toll. I felt no support everywhere I looked. Let me start by first stating, the God on the mountain is still God in the valley. Do I still think God has a strange way of teaching us or even bringing us out of our troubles? Absolutely! Do we learn the bigger lesson and draw closer to Him because of this? ABSOLUTELY! He has been working so hard lately on me and it took me a bit to get out of my own way to see what He was attempting to do. I was so devastated with this injury and other things with my health, that I failed to see that I was basically waiting on everyone and everything around me to get me through everything and in a sense, get me back on the right path again. The last couple of weeks, I've been finding these "clues" regarding the lesson I needed to have. Clues in books, my daily affirmations, my KIDS, it was so crazy! It was so obvious that every piece of information I found, was a puzzle slowly being pieced together. This life lesson I was learning was something I have been searching for for what seemed like a lifetime. What I have learned is this: I am the only person who can aid in my happiness. I am the only one who can make my recovery successful. It is up to me and me alone to stay positive and live my life with the purpose of loving all of those around me. I deserve love and I am deserving of happiness. It's my time to shine and I'm excited! I hope I've reached someone with today's blog. If you learn one thing, know you're not alone and you are loved!

No I Don't

What a year this has been for me and my family. I have alot on my mind tonight and am a little pensive as I lay in bed. A sappy Hallmark Christmas movie is on the TV that I'm not really watching so I decide to check in with my kids. I begin to wonder what kind of mother I have been and how handling what comes my way reflects on that. I have been through a lot in my lifetime. I don't like to bring it up much because things are easily used as a crutch. I feel I am better than that and refuse to let things define who I am.  I was reminded recently that no matter how hard you try,  you just can't escape some of those definitions. I also know that you can take those same harmful past experiences and grow from them. This year has been a forging of sorts. A spiritual roller coaster. Emotions ranging from pain to anger. Back to pain and feeling you've beaten the odds. Then some things tend to happen and you begin to feel like you will never make it to the top to see the horizon before you. Honestly, I've been quite angry with God this year. How healing it is to finally say that. Maybe I should've said it sooner. I've told many people that I think God wants to hear us say this. He knows our hearts anyways. Anger is a passionate emotion. It also means we care.

Tonight I feel beat down and I ask for prayers. I want to be close to God and I want to know that when bad things happen, He longs to comfort me. This forging is more than I can bear sometimes. The only drive I have is knowing I have to keep moving forward through it all for my family. I can't give up. I can't let the bad win. I just have to ask, how much can one person be expected to bear? I feel the weight so heavy on my shoulders. I just want to set it down. I led a group therapy years ago for a counseling class I was in. It was on self-forgiveness. I used Max Lucado's book "Traveling Light" as an example. Carrying the burdens we were never meant to bear. The burden of shame and guilt. Fear and hurt. Yesterday was a big, painful and emotional day for me. Very few know the difficulty it brings but most don't. God knows and I just ask that He shows his presence for me as that anniversary seems to consume me. I'm not sure how much more I can carry. I have to have faith that He will never give me more than I can bear. I know that I will not get burned in the forging process, but rather shaped and molded. Here's my song for the week. I've been listening to some old songs that used to mean a lot. I mean a LOT. Songs and bands I haven't listened to in over a decade. This one is by The Almost. I find healing in music. I find strength in the lyrics. This song is called 'No I Don't' I'm looking for some stable ground/ Some kinda place to lay it down/ And settle for a while/ I'm sick of looking for a star/ I won't show anyone my scars/ Can you help me out?/ I wanna see a change in me When it's time for another round/ I get in then, I bow out/ I'm kinda freaky that way/ I used to stand as tall as I could/ I used to be better than good/ I guess I've made my bed/ I wanna see a change in me No, I don't listen when they tell me/ They think I won't Come back around/ Find my way out/ It's none of their business! It's none of their business! I've got another song in me/ Because of you, I'm changing/ I'm learning how to wait/ Ugly as I could've been/ Down and out and all broken/ You never made me wait/ You saw me/ You didn't see my shame/ I'm free because you said so/ And I'm learning to grow/ Because you held my hand/ I'm free because you said/ Go, keep walking

Where Are You Christmas?

The Christmas season has already started to fly by for me at lightning speed. I'm rushing to get things done as much as I can in preparation for an upcoming surgery. Then again, lately I'm always rushing around between work, teenagers and life!

Anyways, holidays are a tough time in general. I have had a hard time for years trying to really feel Christmas again. As a kid, we didn't have much at all. It's hard to explain to my kids that most of what we had under the tree were mainly hand me down or garage sale bargains or even things my mother made. I remember her making many of my barbie clothes as a kid. I remember very few new items. Three to be exact. One of the stawberry shorcake dolls-Apricot, an Atari 2600, which I think was really more for my dad and the gift that I wanted for so long-a Cabbage Patch Doll. I remember one year, my mom tried to make me one that looked as close to a real one as she could. To this day, I wish I still had that doll. As funny as it is, those things always mean more to us looking back. We never knew what to expect on Christmas. We never knew what kind of mood or temperament our father would be in. Yet, with all that considered, I still LOVED the spirit of Christmas. I STILL couldn't sleep the night before. I STILL got up at the crack of dawn to wake mama and daddy up to see what Santa had brought. We would use my dad's old tube socks for our stockings. (sooo 80's!!) We would wake up to those tube socks full of fruit and nuts and candy. I don't remember my mom ever getting anything for Christmas for herself. What little money there was, she spent it on trying to create some kind of Christmas for us.


My mom married my step-dad when I was 12. I was still torn between parents due to legalities and the fear that my father had put into my mother. I was finally able to be with my mother and my step-dad my 7th grade year of school. My first Christmas with my step-dad, Lewis, was approaching and we didn't know what to expect. He was such a loving, giving man. It was like he took us from one life and showed us a whole other side of life that we never knew or even attempted to think of. Every kid wants to buy something for their parents. I never had that opportunity. I used to love to give my kids money for the Santa Store at school because even though simple, sometimes cheaply made items, the joy it gives them to buy a gift for their family is worth the $5 pen that says #1 Mom. I still have the ring Ross bought me his Kindegarten year and will always cherish it. I still wore it every now and then for years just to show him I still had it and held it dear to me. Anyways, back to that first year with Lewis. We went Christmas shopping and I remember him giving me some money and telling me this was the 1st half of my shopping money to buy some things for my mom and my sister. My sister, having pretty much run away from home early on, was in Chicago at the time and I missed her terribly. I remember buying her one of those Garfields you stick on your window and it had some cutsie saying and I just knew that she would love it. The feeling overwhelmed me to finally get something for someone else. That's just a sliver of the Lewis I learned from for many years. Christmas with Lewis was like a Christmas song wrapped up and just busting at the seems. He WAS Christmas. The giving, the loving, the gentle nature. He became my best friend. That first Christmas, even though I was 12 years old, there was a Cabbage Patch Doll under the tree. Complete with long brown hair and glasses. I remember holding that doll like I was afraid it is was temporary and someone would take it away. He was always suprising my mother. He would wrap something so small and continue to wrap it in bigger boxes that it looked like some huge gift that she would end up opening 5 or 6 boxes to finally get to what was really there. Everything Lewis did had us rolling with laughter or touching our hearts.

My dad died when I was 13 and we lost Lewis 17 years ago when I was a few months pregnant with Reid.


I can't find my Christmas angel no matter how hard I try. So here another Christmas comes and I'm lost. Trying to reinvent traditions and make new ones. Nothing has worked. So what does one do to fill a hole in your heart at a time of year when you should be rejoicing over the season and meaning of what Christmas brings. He changed our lives. 

One year, when it was time to do Christmas at Mom's with my sister and her family, I decided to do a couple of things. I found the closest thing to tube socks that I could and filled them with oranges, apples, walnuts and the old Brach's candy you have to get by the pound. I didn't realize how hard it was to find whole walnuts. That was in rememberance of my real dad for all of those years of feeling like we had nothing when we really still had it all. Then I found some old pictures of my mom with Lewis and searched for a frame that said just the right thing. I found one that said something like, "A smile that lasts a few moments makes memories that last a lifetime". I put all the pictures I had found of my mom and Lewis together on various ventures. All smiling of course. That was to remember our Lewis.


I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas this year. My promise to myself and my family is to enjoy each other's company and continue to be thankful for all of the wonderful blessings we have! I'm eating well and will have a new port come Christmas! My cares are a little lighter and my love's a little stronger thanks to everyone who has left prints on my heart over the years. ❤️

I'm Sorry for Being Sick

Being sick is hard. Even as a teenager, I seemed to always have strep throat and my step dad babied the heck out of me but still, I hated it! Fast forward several years and several diagnosis and here I am terminally ill will this crud absolutely nobody has ever heard of OR understands so it's like when people ask me just what in the world is wrong with me, I simply say, "my stomach doesn't work." Which is true. It doesn't. It's useless. The flip side to everything is, when I'm so terribly weak and can't put one foot in front of the other and have to hunt down the dreaded cart at Wal-Mart, I get the evil eyes from everyone because from the outside, I look fine, unless it's one of those grand days my stomach is on strike and wants to look 10 months pregnant. Those are always fun. I used to could laugh at those days with my kids a lot! Now, they make me completely miserable and hard to function. It seems those functional days aren't there much anymore. Or maybe the good days where I had a few good hours are turning into maybe just one or two hours here and there. I stay tired and it's getting harder and harder to get up. Especially when there's really no reason for me to get up. I moved away from the things I loved to be with the ONE I love and have the care I needed. So, why is my world crumbling all around me? Why am I getting worse? Why am I waking up screaming? Here's some backstory to when things got really bad. My stomach has been an issue for quite some time and had been getting worse. I finally landed an appointment with this renowned doctor/surgeon who was well-known for placing gastric pacemakers. Like she was one of only a few in the states. So she put me on her schedule right away! Now, keep in mind, at this point in 2020, all I did was vomit. At home, at work, while driving - open up my car door - let it out, you name the place, I have vomited there. It was bad. Nothing helped. So this gastric pacemaker was going to be the answer! It would help my stomach move food along so it wouldn't just "sit" in my stomach causing a back up of sorts until it was puked up, etc. I was so excited. My life was going to be changed forever! Well, got it done and.....nothing happened. Still vomiting. Doctor changed the settings.....nope. This went back and forth for several months with absolutely no progress. She ended up doing some other things with no luch until the time finally came that we had no other choice but to put a feeding tube and chest port in. Which meant now I have home health coming out! Oh yay. Fast forward that by several months, and NOW I have DAILY infusions that last 4 hours long and continuous tube feeding and you get the idea. It's just never ending and my mental health has just been lost somewhere in the process and I don't know where to find it anymore. I have no purpose anymore. Because of my being sick all of the time, my marriage has become some kind of written agreement and splitting of the chores and what needs to be done now. I feel like I am just a let down in every department. I am no longer a part of my family on any side. I'm the burden child that has to carry 3 bags with me anywhere I go. I can't even make it though an outing with my kids anymore without getting sick. So, what exactly is my purpose now? I don't feel like a mom much anymore. I definitely don't feel like a wife. Surely God can't use someone that's broken down like me, who's only getting worse. I don't even really have friends anymore. I'm literally dying and feel like all there is to do is lay here and wait for it to happen! Due to having doctors in Texas still, I spend quite a bit of time with my mom. I honestly don't know what I would do without her. She has no idea how many times she has saved me lately. Saved me from just staying in the bed. Saved me from not caring what happens to myself. She pushes me to do things and get out of the house. Of course, I end up enjoying it after I get up. She talks to me when no one else does. Even if it is just about plants and flowers. It fills my time. She may think it's petty but those talks are so important to me. That's all I need is conversation. Nothing deep or fancy. Just something that is important to her or whomever I am talking to. I guess that's why I've gotten to where I look forward to my times here. I'm not alone and she talks to me about what is going on in her life. Plus, of course, I get a chance to see my boys, even if for only a day. I find myself apologizing for being sick more and more. Like it's something I can help. Like it's something I can change. Like it's something that will get better. I can't help it. I can't change it. It's not going to get better. It is, however, who I am now and if I'm going to fight for my quality of life, I've got to do that for myself. And nobody can do that for me. I do apologize for that. I do need support as I try and figure that out but it'll be something I figure out on my own. I am extremely grateful for the friends I have and the new ones I have made along the way. I'll figure this out and I'll find my purpose. THAT, you can count on!

WE are FAMILY

I have sat and pondered all week whether or not to write this blog. It is a tender subject, not only for myself, but for many out there. Falling in love the second time around. Blending a family, or attempting to. How does God really feel about divorce and remarriage and does He continue to bless the blended family and so forth.  The last two years of my life have been hard. I would be lying if I said I haven't tried to get out many, many times. To run would be a more appropriate word. I have lost myself. I have looked in the mirror and didn't recognize the woman in the reflection. The girl that was once an encourager to everyone, started hiding behind others so not to be noticed. This blog is not to put blame on anyone, so please don't take it that way or start lighting your fires to go out ready to hunt someone down. It would do you no good, unless you are, of course, hunting ME. Only a person within themselves can be allowed to lose themselves in the process of a relationship, regardless of how much the outside world looking in wants to judge or think they know what is best. That saying will always be true. Do not judge me or say anything until you walk a mile in my shoes. 

BUT, not to worry my friends, I am pretty sure this tale of mine will end very well, and as Jeremy Camp sang, 

"I still believe in Your faithfulness.
 I still believe in Your truth. 
 I still believe in Your holy Word. 
 Even when I don't see, I still believe."

You see, once upon a time, I believed whole heartedly in God's promises. I not only believed them, I cherished them and longed for the day that they were manifested and made true in my life. In the last few years, I have gotten angry at my God. I have spewed hate and felt as though He had turned His back on me as I've mentioned in previous blogs. But now that I am moving in a week. (Oh by the way, I'm taking my kids and moving back to Texas and closer to my mom, sister and to the kids' dad) so yes, now that I am within a week from moving back to familiar ground with just my kids and close to family, I finally feel my spirit returning to me. My heart is opening and dare I say, I'm excited? Don't get me wrong, this decision did not come easy. I have sought professional help from my therapist, from my doctor, from family and from pastoral leadership. I've taken a hard look at myself. Then, of course, at my kids. My kids. They haven't had real fun in so long. They stay depressed because I'M depressed. My daughter will tell me she misses the "old" me. The "fun" me. Boy, was that a kick in the rear. So, as I sought all of this help, I realized, from my Christian (and very wise counselor), that at times like this, God is okay with me choosing my KIDS. He prayed with me and helped me put things in perspective and as soon as I did this, I kid you not, blessings started pouring like RAIN! I was financially blessed, we started looking for a place close to my mom and the kids' dad that was big enough for all four of us and one landed in my lap! THEN, we were able to move in ASAP. I've never had anything like this happen in my whole life! 

So, I may not always see God at work and sometimes, just like the sinner that I am and always will be, I question where He is at times. But He always, ALWAYS, comes through when you call out to Him. Especially when you feel stuck and alone and you seek counsel. If it's the right counsel, they will always lead you to the right place and right One. I covet your prayers in my journey. Well, OUR journey. Mine, Ross, Reese and Reid's. My kids STILL love me through all that I have done. I love them SO very much and can't wait to have a place of our own to be happy and goofy and all the weirdness that makes up the Vest bunch. WE are FAMILY. 

When I Need to Hide

"Hiding Place : a place where someone or something is hidden or can be hidden"

Hide and Go Seek was not a game I remember playing often with my sister growing up. We played more team or group related games with the neighbor kids as my sister is several years older than myself. Don't get me wrong, I would still hide from her at times, it just wasn't part of a game SHE was aware we were playing! But, there were other moments. The difficult moments. The moments that came at night and woke you from whatever peaceful sleep you were holding onto or the perfect dream you thought you had left. 

I remember thinking as a little girl that if I only had the perfect hiding place, I could go there during the times of fear that would overcome me and I could just stay there until those moments passed. Long before Jenny spoke of wanting God to make her a bird in the movie, Forrest Gump, a young version of myself stood on a back porch of an old house in Frisco, Texas, pleading with God to help her to figure out how to make wings, so that SHE could fly like a bird and get away somewhere, anywhere, to hide. To hide. 

Even at a young age, I could feel my anger and disappointment growing at such a quick rate. I just had no idea who it was aimed at and I just stuffed it somewhere and tried to forget. Little did I know that it would resurface 30 or more years later in a rage of outbursts and tears, lashing out at whomever was closest to me at the moment. Destroying relationships anywhere and everywhere in my tracks. Some of which I've never reclaimed. Some that I still have, but will never be the same and some that I'm hoping will eventually be stronger as I put in the work and effort to cultivate. You see, when I was a kid, my hiding place was simple. During those difficult moments, I would run to one place. The ONLY place I can remember having a feeling of trust and security. It wasn't a playhouse or in a tree. I didn't have a neighbor friend or a special place in town that I could run and cry when things would get unbearable. I had one thing. I had a big sister. And she took the role of my protector very seriously.  

She still takes that role seriously to this very day. Although these days, we may fight each other on many things and my bullheaded self pushes her and resists her wisdom and help but if a dark night comes to haunt me and I just cannot find enough rocks to throw, she is there on the other end of the phone, waiting to listen. Sometimes there are no words. And that's okay. That's not the intention of a hiding place. It's a place of solace, not a place of conversation. 

In my teen years, there was a Steven Curtis Chapman song that I loved. It is one that I still listen to today. It is called, "Hiding Place". My favorite stanza goes like this:

You're my hiding place;
Safe in your embrace,
I'm protected from the storm that rages
When the waters rise,
And I run to hide;
Lord, in You I find my hiding place.
I'm not asking You to take away
My troubles, Lord,
'Cause it's through the stormy weather
I learn to trust You more.
So I thank You for Your promise;
I have come to know
Your unfailing love surrounds me
When I need it most.

As I grow older and think back to those times of fear that was so intense that it would just freeze a small girl in her tracks and I honestly didn't understand it. But I did understand the need for my sister. Her comfort brought me peace. And as I've grown as a Christian and I'm learning to put my trust in my Heavenly Father as my Hiding Place, I realize He places people in our paths and in our lives to not only help us through those tough times but He puts them there when we are disappointed or angry at Him and we are not always wanting the best for ourselves or maybe, just maybe we can't comprehend that the Father of the stars and the universe would love ME enough to want to wrap me up in His love and protection, so He brings in reinforcements, disquised, and, in my case, a big sister. 

Here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(Here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

And the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

Higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

The Truth Shall Set ME FREE

I have been hurting. I have been moving through my days slower, weighed down and broken by what life has bestowed upon me. While I smile, there is pain clutching on to my heart and pulling me down. My smile has been replaced with a resolute indifference. I am angry and scared. I've been pushing those I love away in their best efforts to comfort me and hold me tight. I just haven't been myself in what seems like years.

I took a trip to the West coast over the summer of 2009. When I returned, I had lost a very dear friend. I lost a part of myself. Even worse, I lost my faith. This is also the point where my kids lost their mom. All that I longed for after that summer, was some glimmer of hope. A promise of a brighter tomorrow. Some sort of given that my old life would return and I would be safe again.  Months of counseling turned into years and still no resolve.

Years later, my daughter and I traveled north and I found myself on the banks of Lake Michigan on a cold day in May. The lake expanded farther than I could see, and as I stood there in the wind, my hands clutched tightly, I finally prayed.

I closed my eyes and a tear fell and in that moment I decided to choose life. I chose to push forward, and I chose to hold on to hope even when it didn’t feel possible. I was uncertain at first, but that decision pushed me toward a life that brought joy and true happiness. I had three beautiful and amazing kids that not only needed me, but I needed them! A life that I couldn’t and wouldn't have known if I had made another choice. A life that still exists, though it’s hard to see sometimes through the unsettled dust of the chaos I do still continue to fight.

This decision did not come easy and God didn't promise me an easy road ahead. I'm still fighting my depression every day. I'm still fighting my past hurts. I still cry out in agony to God. I'm even ashamed to say that I even cry out in anger to God.  Then, He continues to somehow bless me in ways that I don't understand. I see Him in oddities that I normally wouldn't look. I talk to Him in times that surprises even me. And I look for him in everything. Everything.

Last night someone told me that I have an honesty and a compassion that others do not and that until I can love myself, they will love me. Of course, I rolled my eyes as I always do, but I tucked those words into my pocket, desperate to hold them as truth. I whispered the words to myself through the night while I tried to sleep. That is a secret not many of you probably know. I've appeared confident most of my life, but I have not loved myself. Especially as things have ripped at my heart starting at an early age and, unfortunately, still happening, I have never learned to love myself.

It helps to know that someone believes in my strength. They believe that I have what it takes to pull myself out of this place. I am good enough. I am worth it. I am more than capable.

God tells me many things and some of those I repeat to myself like a broken record. Here is my favorite:. HE will not leave me. I am not alone as I try my best to figure this out. Some days are harder than others. Some days life seems like too much, but I know that He is here making the journey with me. When things feel too heavy, when it gets too dark, He will be there. HE will carry me when I can’t carry myself!

One thing I know and He has promised. I will walk strong and hold myself high again. Though the pain still has a grasp on my heart, with each step toward hope, its grip will loosen, and I will persevere. I WILL persevere. 

The Family that Quarantines Together, Goes Crazy Together!

I honestly feel like I've been cooped up in this house for months, yet it's only been a couple of weeks. On the 7th, I went down to Nacogdoches to pick up Ross from college for his Spring Break (or so we thought), and we made plans for the upcoming week to spend time together. THEN everything started to get real exciting. Thus, ending our Spring Break "fun" and starting our family quarantine. My 20 year old son is now looking more like Grizzly Adams and is now having to finish his semester online here at home. Our public school system here has still not made up it's mind as to when the doors will open back up, but luckily for my other kids, they will be homeschooled anyways. In the meantime, my two cats give me guilt trips on the daily like they're being held hostage by this pandemic wave hitting the world around us and I tried to tell them that it does, in fact, affect animals as well, but they just stare at me in disbelief. So we started opening the bedroom window, just enough for their little fat bodies to get through and go outside and get back in. Max goes out bravely, unafraid of anything, but Yuuki just sticks her head out, anxiously, like she knows there is sickness waiting for her. I laugh at both cats, because I can relate to both of them right now. To help with the cabin fever, we get out when we need things. We've also bought a few new games. I even have a new 2000 piece puzzle to start putting together thanks to my love. He knew I used to love putting them together. And I did. A long time ago with my dad. And this time of solace that we have so much of right now can also seem like a curse if you deal with any sort of depression or grief as I do, but maybe God is also calling us out to help finally work through some of those tough spots in our hearts. I definitely don't have the answers. I wish I did in times like this. All three of my amazing kids inherited my anxiety and the harder things get like they are now, the harder it is for them to understand and it just makes it worse on their anxieties and sleep and eating and you name it. I don't always have the words to offer. Especially as they get older. I'm just a mom. A mom that has her own anxieties and fears about this world. A mom, who, after watching her own dad pass away at such an early age, has feared death her whole life. A mom, that has already had to look death in the eye and literally fight for her life more than once thanks to being a very brittle type 1 diabetic. BUT, this mama has also learned that even though death is inevitable and anxiety will sneak up on you when you least expect it, also knows there is a much greater and higher force to be reckoned with and all you or I need to do is call upon His name and a calm will come over us like we never imagined. And just like that song tells us about, that fear that stops us? The fear that makes us feel frozen? That fear IS a liar. Call it for what it really is. That, my friend, is what I tell myself. What I remind myself every single day.  OH and I'm also a mom that is turning 44 in exactly ONE week. During a nationwide..or...worldwide quarantine. Then, a week later, my baby bear turns 14. GAH. I can't even. How do you celebrate your kiddo's birthday at home? Please comment any creative ideas! 

Where do moms rest??

This past weekend, I went to visit my mom in hopes for some much needed rest. Boy was it the absolute worst timing ever. Here we are in the midst of a world wide pandemic and I get the bright idea to go see my mom in Colbert, Ok. I thought for sure the mass hysteria hadn't quite hit the little town they reside in, but I was far from wrong because I am pretty sure it hit WHILE I was there. To catch you up, I haven't been sleeping well. Just so much on my mind. I hate to even admit knowing my friends will read this, but I can't honestly tell you the last time I actually walked into a church. Granted, I still watch my old pastor via live podcasts every week. But that is a long story for a whole other blog. So, I was lying in bed, reading up on the latest and unable to slow my worrying thoughts about all that we moms tend to think on. Reese was with me and was having a hard time going to sleep herself as she was lying next to me. I got lost in my thoughts for just a few minutes wondering where the last few years have gone. Remembering the times when I somehow managed to fit both Reese AND Reid in bed with me. Long gone are those days but I guess I will always have my girl for these last minute trips to Nana's for sleepovers and sometimes just spontaneous drives to see Grandma or wherever the road may lead. I thought back to those days again of when the kids were young and I remember the mom that I once was. It's almost painful to think about her. Too painful.  I look over and Reese is finally sound asleep. I guess some things will never change no matter what. I looked at her sleeping just as peacefully as the day we brought her home. Well, except now she steals my pillows and takes all the blankets and well...you get the idea. My point is that even at 16, she still needs and trusts her mama. And out of all the moms on this earth, God chose me...ME...crazy, clumsy, weird, broken and sinful me to be her mom. After a minute, I thought...how amazing it is when God uses a moment so small to get His point across. This night is no different than any other one. My mind, always wondering, going 90 to nothing with thoughts of  things I need to do, things the kids need to do and things the kids just NEED until the thoughts are so overwhelming that they are literally suffocating the breath out of my lungs for fear of not meeting basic needs. I have a very dear friend that will often ask for prayer that she may just "be still" and listen to God so she may know His will and direction. Where in my crazy, busy mom life, did I take my eyes away from the goal and forget to take the time to just be still and rest in those quiet, peaceful moments? In those moments, like now, when kids are asleep, even as the world around us is in a panic, er, especially when the world around us is in a panic, why am I not listening to His voice whisper to me to "be still"? Because if you listen close enough, we will realize that we find our best rest as moms in those two words. I decide to close my eyes and silently pray for God to give this overwhelmed mama some peace for the night. And you know what? As I lay there, in the quiet stillness of that moment, I finally found that rest I had been searching for. 
Psalm 46:10a "Be still and know that I am God."