My New Motto

"Nothing In This World Will Ever Break My Heart Again"

Funny how you think you have put that One. Big. Thing. behind you, and then a memory pops up and your heart aches all over again.  Not nearly as bad as the first time it was broken.  Or even the 12th time the thought of betrayal pops up.

But the pain peeks it's pesky head up out of the beautiful field of lilies, suddenly looming large and tries to choke out the goodness and light.

I had one of those moments a couple of days ago.  Things were going along swimmingly:  the kids were happy, I was happy and we have lots of fun things to look forward to in the next three weeks before they join my former husband for the summer.

My daughter came across a video I made for her for Christmas in 2010.  It was set to one of my favorite songs, "You're Beautiful."  In the video there are many, many pictures of my daughter.  I wanted her to know that throughout her life (some events recorded in funny and even potentially embarrassing pictures), she is loved; she is beautiful; she is sacred and she is His.

And then pops up a picture of my daughter in the arms of her father the day he returned from his tour overseas with the Air Force.   It has always been one of my most cherished memories.

This time, though, the memory seemed a bit tarnished -- overshadowed by the fact that I am no longer married to my children's father.  My heart broke again.  Just a little.  Just a small crack appeared on the wide expanse of the happiness spectrum.  But it was there.

That pesky weed of hurt and bitterness groped for a foothold.  As I stood gulping for air and willing myself to not tear up, I tried to remember my daughter instead of the circumstances of being set aside for another.  By God's grace and a well-timed hug from a loved one, I managed to let myself feel for about 45 seconds.  Just 45 seconds.  And then I blew that bitterness out in a gigantic huff and returned to my daughter who was on her third viewing of the video.

Regrouping was easier than the last time.  And my hope is that the next time, it will be easier yet.

Just tonight I came across a song written by Sarah Buxton that is so incredibly fitting and I wanted to share it.  Not out of bitterness, but from a strong place of determination.

I finally kept my pride
And hailed a cab
Those cuttin words you said
Were the last stab
There’ll be no tears this time
They’ve all dried up
No more sweet poison
I already drank that cup
This tunnel’s dark
But there’s a little light glowing
Bright enough for me to run toward knowing
Nothing in this world will ever break my heart again
Nothing in this world will ever break my heart again
No pain this life will put me through
Will ever ever hurt like you
Don’t need a miracle
A superhero
There’s only one way up
When you’re at zero
You took my innocence
But it was knowing
No i don’t need you
And that made me a woman
I paid my dues
But that’s a debt i’m done paying
I’m standing strong
But I’m still on my knees praying
Nothing in this world will ever break my heart again
Nothing in this world will ever break my heart again
No pain this life will put me through
Will ever ever hurt like you

I don't have any pretty ribbons and bows to wrap up this post.  But I guess I can say, that I am trying to count even hard fought milestones like this one as joy.
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My soapbox may have a groove worn into it by the time I write this post and get everything off of my chest that needs to be said. Fair warning, dear reader.

Testing, testing . . . ::tapping microphone . . .

If you have a child, a biological child, and have not given up your rights to that child to another adult: you are responsible for his care and well being. Regardless of your relationship with the other parent: you have a moral, legal and spiritual responsibility to fulfill. This is no surprise revelation. This should not be news to you.

Even criminals recognize their responsibilities toward their children. Men and women who have not a single shred of moral upbringing recognize their responsibilities toward their children and do their best to fulfill them.

Make no mistake: neglecting your responsibilities IS abuse toward the ones you are responsible for. There will be a day of reckoning. And when that day comes I'll be standing right behind you, wavin' a sparkler over your head and singing this song in your ear:

Let freedom ring

Let the white dove sing

Let the whole world know that today

is a day of reckoning

Let the weak be strong

Let the right be wrong

Roll the stone away

Let the guilty pay

It's Independence Day

And I won't be the only one singing at the top of my lungs, oh no.

"He hath delivered my soul in peace from the battle that was against me: for there were many with me." Psalm 55:18

Will I rejoice in your demise? Your hardship? The fact that you will have to humbly admit on bended knee before the Creator of the Universe that you have failed by shirking your responsibility time and time again?

No.  I will feel pity.

But I will be rejoicing that justice for the neglected child has finally come.

LET FREEDOM RING!

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Parenting: the toughest job you'll ever love

Here is the understatement of the week: Being a mom is the toughest thing you will ever enjoy.

My chickadees are far from grown, but I think it safe to say that I can look back a bit and reflect on what I have learned. If you are a new parent or soon-to-be parent, allow me to give you a heads up. If you are deep in the trenches of parenting, read on and commiserate enjoy what we veterans know to be true.

* Boys will make a weapon out of anything.  AN. Y. THING.

You may have insisted a no-fighting zone perimeter around your home, kept all orange-capped toy guns off of the birthday wish list, and safely stashed pocketknives in high, unreachable places, but if you have a boy, somehow, someway your son will find a way to use whatever is at hand as a weapon.   In a flash, a spatula becomes a fencing foil, his finger and thumb become a gun, and a lollipop stick, a dagger.

Boys are built to arm and defend their territory.  Those pesky warlike games breakout everywhere: in the grocery store among grumpy shoppers, in the car aimed at the amused driver waiting for the green arrow, and even in church.  At the pastor.  During the sermon.  At a particularly poignant moment where an "amen" is a far better fit than the "pew-pew-pew" of a laser gun.  Trust me, if you have a boy, it'll happen.  A-hem.

There is no use fighting it (ha!), just grin and celebrate that those buggy-eyed green aliens are being defeated.  Bank robbers are being caught.  And unsuspecting older sisters are being spied upon when they are trying to sneak a kiss from their boyfriends at the front door.

And speaking of fighting . . .

* Your lovely little lady may be a born fighter too.
Only instead of guns, bows with arrows and spears, it will be how she dresses and what to do with that rat's nest of a "hairdo."  You want her to look sweet and ethereal?  She'll put on sweats with the word "angel" blazoned across the bum instead.

Think she is finally old enough take care of her hair herself?  Be prepared for bed-head and tangled tresses to accompany you on your day full of errands.  Or have a comb waved in front of your face and the stubborn insistence that "You do it, Mommy."  Perhaps you have dreams of brushing her beautiful long locks yourself.  Better get up an hour early for school in order to track down the hairbrush and wrestle her to the ground first.

But don't worry before you know it, junior prom comes along and she'll not only want to look beautiful, she may sweetly ask you to help her do it.

* Boys love to play rough - especially with their brothers
Full-body tackles, somersaults off the furniture and cardboard sledding down the stairs are a given. Want to sit your boy(s) at the table to create a sweet little craft for the grandparents?  Rest assured the glue will be stuck in their hair, in their armpits and between their toes.  Time to grab blankets and snuggle during family movie night?  Don't be surprised when a pillow fight breaks out and popcorn bowls go flying.

It's all good.  It's healthy.  Try to see it as their way to affectionately interact with those around them.  When the body slamming contest is over, pick up the pieces to the broken vase and superglue them back together -- when the boys aren't around to "help," of course.

* Girls love to be the boss

I am sure your little princess is angelic, but just in case one or more of her friends aren't . . . don't be surprised when you hear your own disciplinary words come from her sweet little lips.  She will have the "mean mommy look" down pat too.  Just keep in mind that she is picking up on your good habits also.

*Behind every great kid is a mom who is sure she is screwing it up.
We, as parents, often spend more time dwelling on what we could and should have done better.  But give yourself a break, you are only human.  You are bound to make mistakes.  Ask for forgiveness if the situation and the time is right and move on.

Now, it's your turn.  Leave a comment reminding the rest of us of a universal truth of children.

Counting it all childhood joy,
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The Amazing Adventures of Prayer Man (episode two)

Counting it all joy,
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Acting is in the Air

(and in the genes -- I'm just sayin')

Today we tried our hand(s) at a different kind of service project for home schooling.

Hope you enjoy.





Counting it all acting joy,
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