Irritation to Adoration: Watch out Pride, Here Comes the Fall

The teacher Q had last year at preschool, I had noticed, always looks at her husband with adoration. The glow of love on her face would light any room, and most certainly warms the heart of her husband.   I want that.  I want to know how to do that.  I want to view my husband with adoration, rather than the irritation I know I must show all too often.  I started thinking of how I could accomplish that and why I wasn’t able to do that now.  So, of course, it all became Jeff’s fault.

I needed him to be more in tune with me and with our girls.  I needed him to be aware of our feelings, to be able to read our body language, and to sense when our spirits were deflated.  I felt sorry for myself.  I wondered how I could get through to a passive aggressive man, how I could make him be better, so we could have a better relationship, so I could adore him.  I had managed to miss the point completely.

The Lord sent me a very strong message tonight in Bible class, which only the willfully ignorant could miss.  We examined many verses tonight, but they all had a similar theme.  Two in particular screamed for my attention.  The first is Proverbs 13:10, which says, “Pride only breeds quarrels, but wisdom is found in those who take advice.”  I have a very good friend who is constantly counseling me on how to be a better wife and mother.  If I were smart, I’d listen more to her council, and less to my selfish, childish desires.  Yes – I do want Jeff to be more in tune with me, to be more aware of feelings, body language, and my spirit.  There is nothing wrong in wanting that.  The error comes in punishing him, and sabotaging my marriage, when he does not do what I want or what I think he should.  I can’t control Jeff or force him to do anything.  By embracing my pride, I am only breeding quarrels.  Perhaps I should take a step back and view our marriage from Jeff’s eyes – that would indeed be a humbling experience. 

I want Jeff to extend grace to me when I fall short - if not grace, then certainly mercy.  I want my mistakes to be instantly forgiven and forgotten – not stored carefully away on a rolodex for memories.  I want to be treated like I matter, like I am important, and mostly, like I am loved.  When I am childish and hateful, (no seriously, it does happen) I want to be swallowed in a warm, loving embrace.  Seeing that these are the things I want and desire, are they the same things I am extending and bestowing?

For those of you who are familiar with the Bible, the second verse should come as no surprise.  Proverbs 16:18 says, “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.”  I expect so much from my mate and am giving him little to nothing of what I desire for myself.  I have been humbled and rebuked by my God, and I accept it.

Perhaps the best way to have the adoration that I DO FEEL for Jeff to be apparent on my face is to treat him the way I want to be treated.  Sound familiar? It’s what we commonly refer to as the Golden Rule and can be found in Matthew 7:12.

How tiresome it must be to only have our faults remembered, but never our assets.  To be reminded of our shortcomings, but never our victories.  To be treated with contempt and derision rather than love and respect.  I have not been a good wife.  I have not served as an example to my daughters, nor have I been doing much that would win my husband over.  If I want to be viewed through the eyes of love, I need to see through the eyes of love.

I am married to a kind, sweet, generous man.  He works hard for his family and gives us everything he can.  Though I often greet him with a sharp tongue, he seldom reciprocates.  He loves me the best way he knows how, with everything he has.  His patience is pretty longsuffering, and compared to mine, a flat out miracle.  I love him, and need to do a better job showing it, and showcasing it, to him, our daughters, and the world.

It’s 12:01 am, and my wonderful husband just came around the corner to kiss me and wish me a Happy Birthday.  Ok, Lord.  I hear you, the message is received.  I have a good husband, one I need to treat with honor and respect.  I will submit to your will and love my husband the way you call me to.  It’s my birthday – what better gift could there be than to build a Godly marriage?

Perhaps reading my rather embarrassing admissions sparked a flame in you.  If your relationship isn’t what you want it to be, are you sowing seeds of discord or seeds of reconciliation?  I was looking at our marriage all wrong, and my pride was wreaking havoc.  Don't let your pride destroy what was intended to be beautiful and long lasting.

Thanks for reading – take care.

My Thoughts on Abortion

I’ve seen so much on Facebook these last couple of days regarding reproductive rights, women’s equality, and the freedom to choose.  I’ve considered posting something time and again, but have refrained from doing so for several reasons.  The first one is good, old fashioned fear.  I don’t want a confrontation and I don’t want to be ridiculed for my beliefs.  The second was because I was afraid I might lose some friends in the process.  But, regardless of the outcome, I don’t feel I can stay silent any more.

I am against abortion.  Period.  There is no scenario in which I can envision abortion to be an appropriate response.  I believe abortion stops a beating heart and ends a human life.  Ask any woman who has mourned a miscarriage when she thinks life begins.  You can ask me, for that matter.  My first pregnancy ended in miscarriage.

About the time a woman may begin to suspect she’s pregnant (5-6 weeks), a heartbeat is already present.  The heartbeat is actually what you’ll see on a sonogram when you go in to your doctor’s office to confirm your pregnancy.  If you abort, you stop that heart. You might be able to feel your baby move within you at 15 weeks, but certainly by 20 weeks.   Also at 20 weeks, you might be able to tell, with pretty good accuracy, whether you’re having a boy or a girl.  So, if you’re considering aborting after the pivotal 20 weeks, you likely have felt the unviable fetus move and you can determine whether the unviable fetus was a boy or a girl.  It’s not my intent to be sarcastic.  These are just the facts.  Also a fact - there are babies who have survived abortion attempts.  You can google it.  Gianna Jessen is an outspoken abortion survivor.

It’s strange to me that only with humans do we vary our terminology based on our desire.  If you want to be pregnant, you’re going to have a baby.  If you want to terminate the pregnancy, it’s an unviable fetus, or a cluster of biological matter.  As a society, we place more protections on the unborn of endangered wildlife than we do on human life.

I understand that not all life is conceived willingly.  There are horrific accounts of rape and incest resulting in pregnancy.  I still don’t believe in abortion, because I believe in God.  I believe in a God that can turn a terrible situation into a blessing.  I believe in a God who will not give us more than we can bear.  I believe in a God who has given all of us free will to choose and to act, but who will call us to account one day.

I do believe that I should have the right to exercise free will over my own body.  But I do not believe an abortion fits that description.  It is not my body that will be burned with a saline solution.  It is not my body that will be dismembered.  It is not my body that will cease to live.  It’s all well and good to discuss the ideologies of abortion and the philosophies for and against, but I think the real issue is missed.  To truly understand abortion, you have to see the results.  They are graphic and heartbreaking.  A simple google search will show you exactly what an abortion is and what it does (It was originally my intention to link this. I decided not to, in case someone accidentally clicked on it.  You can google “abortion results” and click on images if you truly want to see it).  Whatever your beliefs, let’s stop kidding ourselves.  An abortion kills a baby.  It doesn’t really matter how or why.  You can’t get around the fact that before the abortion a baby would have been born, and after the abortion the baby is gone.

I do not judge women who have abortions.  I am sad for them and I am devastated for the lost child.  I believe they will live with more emotional turmoil than they can fathom, if they don’t shut down completely.  It is not my place, nor my desire, to pass judgment on them.  Most people are doing the best they can to get by.  I pray for them.  I pray for healing, for understanding, and for a change of heart.  But as a voter, you can be sure I will vote against abortion every chance I get.

If after you read this, you feel the need to defriend me, that is your choice.  If I have caused you to pause and reconsider your stance, I am truly grateful.  If you’d like to have a calm discussion, I am open and available.

Life is short and often hard.  Whatever else we do, let’s be civil and polite, even when we disagree.  As always, thanks for reading

 

Still a Big Kid

I was joking around with my friend the other day that, in my head, I still feel like a kid.  I’ve been married for almost 9 years, have two kids, had multiple careers, bought and sold houses – but I still feel like that uncertain 17 year old.  I still feel like I am faking my way through life.  How am I supposed to teach my girls how to be confident, Christian women when I am still floundering?

Daily Bible study, a healthy prayer life, a strong faith and total dependence on God – those are things I aspire to, which I never seem to achieve.  There are days (still!) where I can’t even manage a shower until both girls are in bed for the night.  This last year has been particularly difficult.  When my sweet Emmy came into this world, there were some complications and she arrived via an emergency C-section.  There were agonizing minutes when I thought my baby was dying.  Her heart rate dropped and dropped until it didn’t register. I’ve never felt so powerless in my entire life.  There was nothing, NOTHING I could do.  I was flat on my back, an anesthesiologist pumping drugs into my epidural line, as they wheeled me into the OR.  I can only remember sobbing and pleading with God for my baby’s life.  God answered, and He said, “Yes.”  Emmy is a happy, healthy, nearly one year old.  She has a sunny, sweet disposition that is a calming balm.  I am blessed beyond measure. 

Having survived, and I don’t use that term lightly, a previous depression, I was high risk for post-partum after Emmy’s rather traumatic entry into this world.  As the days turned into weeks, it was clear that depression was, indeed, rearing its ugly head.  I began working earnestly with my counselor that we could uproot it quickly.  I would like to tell you that I began making good progress and the depression dissipated.  However, looking at the previous 10 months, I don’t know that would be honest.

Learning to manage with an infant and a toddler was more difficult than I anticipated.  My oldest, Quinn, is a fearless, bright, curious, ever moving tornado.  She is a lot of fun, and a lot of exhaustive work.  If she is awake, she is moving and getting into stuff.  If she wants to do a “quiet” activity, she is probably not feeling well. I told myself that the unending fatigue, and its accompanying listlessness, was due to having such young children - and part of that was probably true.  It was also coupled with the feeling that I was a single parent.  My husband works his tail off for his family so that I can be a “stay-at-home” mom.  It was the choice we felt best for our children.  Because his “primary” job is as a teacher, we weren’t exactly rolling in the dough.  He then started working at Texas Roadhouse (on the Bush Tollway in North Garland) every Friday night so we could have some breathing room.  When the opportunity to privately tutor, and make a little money, became available, he jumped at the chance.  In other words, he was rarely home, trying to make enough money so that I could be with the kids.  There are times when I have wondered if this was the right choice.  Would we have had more family time (and money) if we had put the kids into day care and I went back to practicing law?  Would that have been a better choice? I don’t know. 

I have a vague notion that things will be better/get easier “in the future.”  Maybe money will be easier when I can work more, or the girls don’t need diapers and formula.  Maybe I’ll finish one of the 50 manuscripts I’ve started and get it published. I have lots of ideas and wishful thinking, but no real plan.  I still don’t know what I want to be “when I grow up.”  I anticipate I will return to the work force when my girls are school aged.  What I’ll be doing? Your guess is as good as mine.  So even though the calendar turns from day to day and I age chronologically, I often feel like a teenager - uncertain of what the future holds and what I’ll do with myself or who I’m going to become.

Where do I go from here?  Perhaps a start is to realize that even though my life is crazy, I haven’t worked out all my issues, and I’m not as emotionally healthy as I would like – I wouldn’t trade what I have for anything.  I have two amazing, beautiful girls and a husband who sacrifices everything for his family.  I am blessed.  I am loved.  I am a child of the King.  If I achieve nothing else in my life, this is enough.

 

This Little Light of Mine.......

I’m very open about the fact that I am in therapy- not only because it's nothing to be ashamed of, but also to perhaps encourage someone who may be unsure about it. Therapy is about adding tools, skill sets, so that you can better manage the emotional roller coaster of life.  It is about shining a light in the dark corners of your mind so that you can see the causal link between the choices you make, therefore enabling you to make better choices in the future.

We all have things we believe about ourselves, messages we tell ourselves, whether we acknowledge them or not.  Most of the time, people aren’t even aware of what their inner script is.  They go through life making the same mistakes over and over again because they are unable to shine that light into the corners of their mind.

In a nutshell, our early experiences dictate the early decisions we make.  Those decisions color how we view ourselves and the rest of the world; they shape how we interact. One of my early decisions was that I was not okay, but everyone else was.  In short, I felt unlikeable and unlovable.  I felt that I needed to con others into liking me or that I would have to somehow make them happy or please them.  It never occurred to me that I should matter in the relationship.  I was just grateful that someone was willing to call me friend. This led to a great vulnerability and led to some horrific decisions regarding relationships. Most of the time, it meant I poured my heart into a relationship that meant next to nothing to the other person.  I trusted too soon and too much.  I shared personal information about myself that was used as a weapon, or a joke.  I found myself surrounded by narcissists.  They were only interested in what I could do for them, and no desire to do anything for me. I would leave relationships feeling broken and worthless.

I always felt that if people “really knew me”, they would inherently dislike me and shun me.  This was reinforced by the fact that the people I did reach out to and try to befriend did indeed reject me in some way.  But here’s the brain twister:  I was drawn to people who would treat me terribly because it would reinforce the early decision I had made – that I was unlikeable and unlovable.  You see it all the time: the girls who are drawn to “players” over and over again; the guys who are drawn to “gold diggers” over and over again.  They are drawn to people who will reinforce the message that is constantly playing in their subconscious.  This is why therapy is wonderful.  It breaks that awful, repeating tape and lets you record a new message.

It’s not instant, nor is it easy. I will forever fight that internal message; there are times I still believe it.  I am still drawn to people who treat me poorly.  It’s hard to undo 30+ years of behavior in a matter of a few years.  But instead of repeating those dreadful relationships, I now have the tools to see them for what they are: harmful and detrimental to me.  It gives me an opportunity to pursue worthy relationships.  The odd thing is, if I’m not comfortable with a person, it probably means they will be good for me! After all, I was comfortable being abused and treated badly.

If you find yourself in the same situation time and again, consider therapy.  Break out of the destructive cycle that has you in its grasp.  Shine a light and get a little clarity.  It’s good for the soul. J