Currently viewing the category: "Forgiveness"

heart_miniThe volume had been high at home for a couple of days. Daughter had been struggling with issues, some known and some unknown. What is known is that life is hard at seven. Life is hard at 40-something. Life is just hard.Playgroundjpg

It is hard being here, in this broken place with broken people carrying around lofty expectations, when we were made to be there, in that perfect place, in heaven with God. Yet our faith requires us to live a life of not yet in a very broken now.

I am the first to admit that home is broken and to be clear, I am not getting divorced. We are simply imperfect and still figuring out how to be “healthy” in a sick space. For as hard as it is for us, it somehow seems compounded for daughter.

She had been riddled with anxiety and acting out more so than usual those couple of days. I tried so hard to figure it out. As a mommy, my heart bled for the hurt I could see as she lashed out, yelling and seemingly out of control. There must be a reason, something I could fix. Read Full Article →

heart_miniDaughter has entered that in between stage, too old for baby things and too young for tween things. She is caught between desperately wanting hugs, cuddles and nurturing and I am too old, too cool, too whatever for all that.

The stage where you hear, “Don’t call me Pumpkin Zoofie (don’t ask) in front of people, only at home!” and “I can do it (the things you have been doing forever) myself!” The stage where the horrifying words “I hate you!” escape her lips in great drama followed by tears, apologies and grand expressions of love and affection.

It is the start of the life-long war between accountability and grace and it is up to you, the parent, to decide which is to be the victor in each instance.  Yours is the battlefield for “Train(ing) up a child in the way he should go.” Proverbs 22:6.oath_pledge jpg

It is a scary proposition to be the coach of a precious life looking to you, fighting with you, testing you, seeking wisdom and discernment, love and affection, and wanting freedom and independence all before the hormones kick in!

I picked daughter up from school the other day, as I usually do, and somewhere between the school parking lot and our front door came the words “You are the worst mom ever!” Read Full Article →

As I sit here in my office, all I hear is the loud sounds that come from the machine that is cleaning my carpet. It is the same carpet that needed to be cleaned for a second time in less than a month because stepdaughter and her friend chose to throw a party at our home while we were out of town for the long weekend.

I am flooded with thoughts as the noise propels me to relive the moments of our return from our blissful and peaceful weekend away to discover the painfully obvious clues of the goings on in our home during our absence.

I can feel the resistance of my feet and hear the “shhhhht-shhhhht” sound of my shoes sticking to the linoleum floor. I can see the stains in the carpet in the bedroom that look like someone tossed the liquid of their cup into the air in a circular motion, splattering everywhere in some modern art design. I can see the beer bottles left in the salad drawer of the refrigerator, the cigarette butts littered across both our front and back lawns, and the sound of the neighbor talking to husband out front about what actually happened here the night before. I can feel the array of emotions that coursed through my veins and shot straight into my heart.

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