"What makes a family great, isn't that everyone loves each other and gets along… what makes a family great is that they love each other even when they are not getting along."

Bethany December 2014

Freeing myself to be me

       I'm a verbal processer. I'm a mental processer… I'm an over processer. Yet I find that the way I process best is by writing. Oddly enough, that is the way I process the least. There is something about writing it out that forces me to truly work through things rather than vent. Somehow the act of writing pushes me through the tidal waves of emotions that I am riding on into the heart of why I am hurting. I believe it forces my brain to slow down as well, and in doing so, I begin to hear the still quiet voice guiding me through. I need to do it more.
      Along those lines, I've been struggling with the concept of blogging and posting lately. In fact I've pretty much stopped doing it because I've wondered what is at the core of why someone would have the need to post something for the world to see, though in reality few do. What is it with our society's need to put ourselves out there? But more importantly, what is my need? Why have I had such a strong desire to tell the world my thoughts?
     I've been mulling over and trying to process this for months. As I've processed, I've pulled away from social media almost completely. Yet, I've gotten no where. No answers. Then, I finally started writing and that is when I realized what my need is: VALUE.
    I don't know if it is true for everyone, but I put myself out into the internet void because I long to have a sense of value. Whether that value comes from knowing that someone else is reading my thoughts or that maybe my thoughts could help someone.
   I still have a mammoth amount of processing to do around my need for value, and that will come in time. But in writing this, I have realized that I am ready for a change. I need to write. I love to write. My reason for writing isn't for others… it shouldn't be for value… it should be for me. Because I am a better person when I write. God uses writing to do things in my heart, that he doesn't do in other ways. Writing is a part of me. Whether people read it or not, or if it helps people or not does not change my value. But I do have the opportunity to be me, and in writing, a better version of me.
    So I free myself to let go. To throw my thoughts into the void. To process away whether big or small. To be me. (Oh, and to save my family from having to be present for my over abundant verbal processing).

Taking My Nose off the Grindstone

You ever have one of those friends that without any hesitation can say the one thing that hits you right between the eyes and convicts you of something you didn't even see at all? I do. And I am so glad I do.

I've been struggling lately. I have been dealing with a full plate to Thanksgiving sized proportions. Well at least by my standards. I am currently trying to balance homeschooling a difficult learner, an eager to learn preschooler and a potty training toddler with a larger house, chickens, an active puppy, a garden, a strongly plant based diet and a husband that is working an erratic schedule including over time. You throw on top of that my desire to avoid processed foods and a back yard remodel among a bunch of other things that aren't even worth mentioning, and I am honestly just plain swamped.

But this post is not meant to be me just complaining about my woes. Instead this is about my struggles. You see I've been struggling with an important relationship lately. My love hasn't changed, they haven't changed, but by the time I get in bed at night, I suddenly remember they are there.  And it is in that moment, I realized what I've missed all day: intimacy. And so night after night, as I crawled into bed completely wiped from the day's adventures and drudgery I would remember what was missing the entire day, only to repeat it the next day.

You see my relationship with my LORD is similar to a marriage. I had been getting up with the full knowledge that he was there, the ring was on my finger, and I didn't forget to check in occasionally and make sure he was still there, but we had become roommates not lovers. The coals of love were growing cold, choked out by the day's gargantuan proportion of things that needed to be done. And so it has been for the last couple of months. Deep down, I knew I was supposed to spend time with God and invest in our relationship, but I was at a loss as to how I was supposed to find time. What was I supposed to cut out??? Wasn't I doing what I was supposed to?? Hadn't He been the one who led me to homeschool? Hadn't He led me into a lifestyle that was being a good steward of both my body, my children and my world??? Wasn't it a good thing to eat healthy??? Wasn't I supposed to care for the creatures he had given me? Then how am I supposed to do it all??? And so I kept on plugging along knowing that something wasn't right, but at a loss as to how to change. Finding myself feeling like I was spinning in a hamster wheel instead of growing and making progress. And it was here, that God met me.

And this is what He said:
You've got your nose on the grindstone... you think that is where it is supposed to be, but it isn't . When things are tough, keeping your nose there and plodding through isn't going to help. It isn't faith. It is avoidance. You are looking at the grindstone with your head down to avoid looking at all you have to do or the struggles thinking you are plodding along in faith but that is when you find yourself in the hamster wheel... you aren't keeping your eye's on the right thing. Faith isn't about not looking at your troubles: it is about looking at your creator. I'm up here. Keep looking up while you plod along and we can be together. You will progress and grow. Look down at the grindstone and you end up in the hamster wheel. Look at the troubles and you halt to a stop. Get your eye's off your feet, don't look ahead, but look up at me! 

And there it is. Clarity. I thought I was living in faith. I thought I was doing the right thing by plodding along with what I thought God wanted from me. I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping on even when it felt impossible. I thought I was supposed to keep my nose to the grindstone. But I wasn't. Not because of my actions, but because of my focus.

It isn't easy. I still find myself going for long periods of the day just checking things off my to do list. But I have noticed that when I am giving God my attention, the mundane feels less mundane, the list feels more doable, and the struggles don't beat me down as much. The burden is lighter when I am looking to God, I no longer feel alone as I wade through the dirty drudgery of wiping bottoms, cleaning chicken poop off my floor or cleaning the dishes yet again. And in those moments, I find joy.

Raspberry Coconut Squares

I do my best creating on the fly. You know, when I have people coming over in an hour and I haven't planned anything let alone know if there is even anything in my cupboards. Oh, and the house needed tidying and dinner had to be made still. Or when my husband tells me at 10 o'clock at night that tomorrow is a potluck at work.  Or my favorite, when my husband calls and says that he is bringing over four coworkers, who will be hungry and to whip together some dessert or snacky stuff and I'm still in my pajamas and there is dirt three weeks thick everywhere. Yeah... that kind of fly.

Thankfully that is usually when I rise to the occasion. A skill I have gained from watching my sister in the kitchen. She can make something out of nothing taste like it's off a five star restaurant menu. That girl has mad skills.

Last night was one of those times that I needed to fly... or at least create something on the fly. We had friends coming over in an hour and we had been out shopping all day - with THREE KIDS! Dessert was a must, and I had no idea what to make. That's when I stumbled on this recipe that I had printed off ages ago, and went to work. Of course it wasn't going to work for me the way it was. I didn't have the quick oats required, I'm allergic to dairy, I didn't have time to make the blueberries and well, I'm a sucker for coconut.

Thankfully I did have my trusty all time favorite substitute: coconut oil (yep, I love coconut), a jar of organic raspberry preserves and some regular oats, so I went to work. I had also remembered that last time I made a similar style bar, there was not enough topping, so I tweaked the ratios as well. Yea, I can't leave anything alone.

And yes, the pressure was on too. Right after I popped these in the oven, my husband took the chicken out of the fridge to prepare it for the grill, only to find that our entire package of organic chicken had gone bad. WAY BAD! Yeah for the sausages I happened to throw in the cart even though they weren't on my list. We still had dinner, but I really wanted these bars to turn out to resurrect the whole thing.

And oh did they. They are my new favorite!!! Chewy, soft, crumbly, sweet, slightly tart, coconut amazingness all wrapped up in a nice square. And did I mention that they are refined sugar free, dairy free, and made with whole grains?

Raspberry Coconut Squares
Makes as many as you want out of a 9x13 pan.

3 cups Oats
1 1/2 Whole Wheat Pastry Flour
3/4 cup plus 1/4 cup Unsweetened shredded coconut
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp Baking Soda
1 cup Sugar (I used 3/4 cup coconut sugar and 1/4 cup turbinado)
1/2 cup coconut oil
1/2 cup coconut cream
3/4 cup-1 cup Raspberry preserves

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and grease a 9x13 pan (I used coconut oil). Place oats in a blender or food processor and process till coarsely chopped but not fine as flour. Pour into large bowl and combine with flour, salt, baking soda, sugar and 3/4 cup coconut. Cut in coconut oil and cream until it resembles a fine crumb (feel free to add more coconut cream if needed or desired to get a nice crumb). Press 2/3 of crumb mixture into the pan and press down. Pour preserves over the top and spread evenly (use more preserves if you want a thicker raspberry layer and less if you want to keep it lighter). Then crumble remaining crumb mixture over the top and sprinkle with 1/4 cup of coconut. Bake for approximately 40 minutes and let cool before cutting and serving.

I hope you enjoy these as much as I did, am and will. Yes, I am eating one as I type this. I've earned it, I'm working hard.

The Loved Adulteress

I was asked to give my testimony this week, and after struggling to put into words my love story with my savior, this is what finally came out.

The Loved Adulteress

At the age of three I was marked

For His kingdom- the daughter of the king

In my heart, the Spirit sparked

And I responded to His call with bended knee

Within He placed a heart for song

And the desire to praise my King

Life was hard yet still I clung

To the One who had set me free

But one day the pain went deep

And fear through my heart did seep

And although His praises were on my tongue

In my heart to other’s I sung

I was looking for value and love

In those around – in man

You see I am the adulterous woman

When even though she had loves embrace

Chose to look into another’s face

Yet He stood by, faithful and true

Waiting for me to see His gentle clue

That my value is in Him alone

And no matter where I looked

I was left feeling empty and alone

Despite ever growing fear,

He gently whispered in my ear

“Come my daughter, I am right here”

So I responded again to His call

As deep calls to deep, my spirit lives

And in Him I know there is truth

That He is mine and I am His

The struggles have not left me yet

Still I get confused and my eyes fall

But when I quiet my soul

There is His gentle voice, calling me

Our story is of love so deep and true

That it has withstood the test

Of one who is unfaithful at best

But it is not over by far

Because it is by His grace I am here at all.

180 Degrees: New Perspective New Life

Since I can remember, I have been one of those people that likes to have my hardships acknowledged. I have the need for people to recognize my struggles. It isn't excuses; it is the need to have someone praise my effort more than the result. I know why, too. Praise was rarely given in my home. Instead of a sincere gratitude for the effort that was put in, my attempts at all life was rewarded with the same response: "Look at what you could have done if you had applied yourself better." I called it the white glove syndrome. I could spend hours cleaning something with a tooth brush, and the one small spot that was missed would be noticed. And yes, I have specific instances that are seared in my mind. The result: paralysis. The mode: fear. FEAR is what began to rule every area of my life.

The question is begging to be asked. How can something as simple as not receiving enough affirmation result in fear paralyzing your entire life? It is in the bleed. Like the corner of a napkin on a punch spill, a parched soul soaks up what ever it is watered by. My soul was watered by fear.

So much of life is about effort. We are fallen beings in a fallen world. We do not have hope of ever accomplishing anything of our own effort because our best is as "dirty rags" (Isaiah 64:6 and Romans 3:23). So our natural response, or at least mine, is to search for recognition for our effort. Since we can't accomplish perfection, at least we can be recognized for trying. And so my psyche was formed. As a young child my response to lack of praise was that I would try my hardest. But even that was not enough. I was parched; I was starving. And then the fear that was already prevalent in my life from other circumstances began to bleed in. Why try? It won't be enough anyway. I was afraid to fail. But worse than failing was my fear of succeeding. Because with success came a new standard I would be held to and even more would be expected from me; a much scarier possibility.

So how does one respond to such an overwhelming fear? Excuses, of course. My rationale goes like this: If they knew my hardships, my adversities, all that I've worked through to get this far then they can forgive my imperfections. If people only knew the effort I have put into this, then they would love me, accept me, praise me; then my thirsty soul would finally drink.

And so I have lived, balancing the need for acknowledgment with a fear of failing. Balancing between a fear that paralyzes and the need to accomplish perfection. The result: running in place - going nowhere. And so I thirst, grabbing onto every drop of praise or anything like it I can find. Clinging on for dear life. Praying for rain, but looking for it from the smog instead of the clouds.

You see the reality looks very different on the outside. My thirst and longing for praise resulted in explanation and excuses - a soul begging for water from my perspective. But the actual observer interprets it as complaining and pride. The usual response to my thirst: criticism or disdain? No, worse: rejection - salt on a thirsty, dry, wounded soul. And so as the salt was poured on, the search for water grew more intense. The route for search did not change though and thus the cycle of my thirsty soul sits. Yes, the watering has been there. Otherwise, I would be dead. But the rainfall, the wellspring, life, I thirstily long for and wait for. Search for.

And then, after years of dehydration, I stumbled on the answer. In a book about gratitude. A book I have been trying to read through for the past year. On a night when I am supposed to be "working". I read it:

       A lifestyle of intentional gratitude became an unintentional test in the trustworthiness of God - and in counting blessings I stumbled upon the way out of fear.

                                                                              Anne Voskamp 

There it was on page 151 in One Thousand Gifts. By counting my struggles I was actually complaining and by complaining I was telling God he was untrustworthy. My fear had resulted in complaining, and the only way to overcome the fear, to free myself from the paralyzation and thirst was to do the opposite. To count my blessings. To say thanks. To acknowledge that it isn't me, that I can't do it myself and my effort isn't enough and that that is OK. When I take my eyes off of what I "have suffered", off my struggle and look at what He has done, what He has suffered and say THANK YOU, I am suddenly free.

I believe that when I get rid of fear and focus on the blessings that he gives I will be free to recieve the praise, love and acceptance that I have been offered. Since fear paralyzes trust, then I will be free to trust what He says when He says "I LOVE YOU".

And what does He say to me tonight:

Restrain your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears; For your work will be rewarded..." Jeremiah 31:16

The verse I just happened to open to tonight. And so 180 degrees later, I say thank you, for my blessings are many. My daily struggles are no longer laundry to be aired, they are the chance for me to look at my blessings and see the good He has done. And from there I will be free from the need for your or anyone else's praise or acceptance. Oh, may my soul quench its thirst in the only true water that is (John 4:14)

If you are interested in the book by Anne Voskamp please visit her website. Although I have only gotten to page 151, I have to say that her thoughts challenge at the core of who you are and your view of life and Christianity in all the right ways. http://www.aholyexperience.com

Same Story. Same Pain... Different Outcome. Stronger Repellant.

    Today I saw some pictures that reminded me of family favoritism. It amazes me that even today, I'm thirty and my husband is 33, I see the same dynamics in our families as we experienced growing up. The strange part is that now the favoritism is bleeding into our children. As much as it hurts to see, from years of pain, I have come to the point where I can say "C'est la vie... their loss."

    It is hard to explain favoritism to someone unless they have been on the unfavored side. I have found very few people who truly understand the dynamic.  I can't tell you how relieving it is when I am around someone who not only understands, but actually sees it without me having to explain (those friends are very close indeed). I have also found that the favored one's blame it all on perspective. Having not received the "unfavor," their eyes don't even pick up the subtleness of favoritism. I used to be angry at them for not seeing it. Now I count them blessed.

    Thankfully, I married someone who knows well the "joys" of the unfavored side and can support me. Sadly, it also means that I walked from one family of pain and rejection into another. The wounds, just healing from years of my own walk on the outside, have been violently gashed open, then subtly picked at and salted.

     But as the wounds scab over and the healing process continues I watch as the same people who have favored our siblings over us inadvertently favor their kids over ours. It is small things, ones I pray our children never pick up. I pray that their eyes are blind to these subtle behaviors because they have not been opened by my own favoritism. As I parent, I am ever aware of my heart, my frustrations and behaviors. I do not seek to be fair or even, but instead to love each one whole heartedly for who they are.     To take joy in their differences, embrace their unique gifts and gently mold their quirky weaknesses. Are there days where I am closer to one than the others? Yes, but I take it in stride knowing that by tomorrow, that same difficult child will be the one helping me as I grin and bear the quirks of another. My heart's desire is that they are oblivious to favoritism because they are so secure in my husband's and my love for them, that the nuances of the moment are just that... momentary - not something that affects their core. 

    So, as I see those subtle behaviors, I take a deep breath. I look at my children. And I remember, that I am here. I get to be with them. I get to watch their differences, I get to experience their unique gifts and I am bound to deal with their quirky weaknesses at all moments. In ending the cycle, I find healing from my wounds. In healing, I find strength. And in strength, I am less easily wounded. Ending the cycle gives hope, and hope is my repellant.