In the Jungle

the mighty jungle.....the lions sleep tonight.
The house is still, the monkeys are in there beds.  The lion is in his den snoring off the day's work.  I am the lioness, hunting in the night.  Hunting for answers that I know can never be answered.
Why her?  Why us?  Why?
The night is still.  Pacing does no good. Time to just wait for the sun to rise.

Faith

Even six months after losing my Jamie, I have heard the whole gammit.  I even read that I needed to forgive someone for my loss...i.e. forgive the drunk driver, etc. 

But I kept thinking, who am I supposed to forgive?  God?  But all say that He didn't do this. 

Why would God purposely give my daughter a fatal condition?  To have me carry her? 

Yes, I understand...but why give so much pain?

SOOO, three things have happened just this week!!!

1.  I read a post by a mom who also had a child with a fatal condition.  She said...."Thank you God for taking my child so he would not suffer in this world."

 WOW!  God didn't do this to my baby...it is just one of those things that happen on this Earth.  God saved my baby from living with her horrible condition...suffering on this Earth.

2.  I read in a book..."The God I know has experienced pain and torment and therefore understands my pain.  The Incarnation means that God cares so much that he chose to become human and suffer loss, though he never had to.  He is not aloof from my suffering, but draws near to me when I suffer. "

3.  I just recieved a beautiful letter from a friend and in it he spoke of  a bible class he was a part of.  A man in his class stood up and said ."A message prepared in the mind reaches minds, a message prepared in the heart reaches hearts, but a message prepared in a life reaches lives." The man then proceeded to tell the story of the loss of their child 13 years ago.  He described how his wife spends much of her time ministering to those who also are devastated.

All three of those things have made me go Hmmmm.  And I have had a bit of a better skip in my step.  In the end, it is our choice to have faith in Him.

Faith "that we find joy in our trials".

Baseball Anyone?

My three boys are baseball players.  Okay, only one plays now, and I finally got my act together to have a baseball mom bag!  Okay, not true....A SMALLER baseball bag!

I just embellished a black tote that I had recieved (horrible ad on the front of it).  I embroidered my name on the baseball fabric and then appliqued the square onto the bag.

Not my finest project....but VERY usable!!!!

Drowning

No one likes the sad girl. They want the happy girl to come back.

I am drowning.  Drowning in all of my responsibilities, sadness, pain, along with my hopes and dreams.  Swimming towards the dock, but being grabbed by some unknown forces, deep at the bottom of the lake.  The weight of the water is sometimes too much to bear.   I can gasp at the top of the water for a second, but then I am violently yanked under.  Sometimes it seems easier to stay under.

I dream of floating aimlessly, camly again.  How can I ever do that, if I can't reach the top of the water and take a full breathe of air.

Dear God, can you please throw me a life vest?

Carnival

The rides are bright and colorful.  People are smiling, laughing, eating as they wait in lines.  The games are noisy.  Delightful, happy screaming can be heard in the distance.  The rides move quickly and frenetically. Huge stuffed animals hang from the arms of big, burly men.  There are tears on little ones that just can't seem to win the coveted prize.  Sticky fingers.  Food encrusted mouths.  Babies crashed out in their strollers.  Moms that are irritated with the child that just doesn't seem to listen.  Mom and dads with cameras hanging from their necks in hopeful anticipation of the lasting memory. Moms that are drinking in the sight of their child's first pony ride.   Dads proud of their children for riding that scary rollercoaster.  Teenagers moving in packs, oblivious to the world around them. Little girls running with pig tails and colorful dresses.  Little boys with tussled hair, wearing their jeans and cowboy boots. 

A little girl with wispy blonde hair and the sweetest dress, passes by me.  Her thumb in her mouth and her other hand tugging her ear.  She looks right at me.  She could be my Jamie.

Jamie should be here for her first carnival. 

 She should be bright eyed and taking in all of the sounds and sights. 

She should be here....

Marriage: A Fragile Union

It occurred to me yesterday that marriage is such a fragile union.  No matter how strong the relationship, it seems to be so easily broken. 

Yesterday, we found out news that some friends of ours are getting a divorce.  We did not see it coming.  This was a couple that would constantly show public affection, not the inappropriate kind, but the kind that you sometimes wish you had more of with your own spouse.  We don't know the details, but they have three beautiful, young boys and for whatever reason, are going to tear their family apart. 

I am stunned.  I am confused.  I am concerned.  What does it take to break a family apart?  What happens to a couple that they can sit their children down and say, "Your dad and I can't live together anymore". 

I don't pretend to be naive.  I am a product of a young divorced couple.  I can say I have survived, but I survived without my father being a part of my life.  The marriage was so broken, that the aftermath caused my father to walk away.  He felt that it was better to let my mom have peace then to have the constant "fight" they had even unmarried.

I look at my husband of 13 years.  I am scared.  Our oldest son turned 13 yesterday.  We have a teenage son!  I look at my three sons and cannot fathom what would crush this family.  I have always said that I would leave my husband if he ever cheated on me or hurt me. But yesterday, I even dared to tell my husband that if he had an adulterous affair, that I would probably be broken, but wouldn't be able to leave him.  I love him that much.  I need him that much.

He shook his head, walked out of the room.  Then he returned, with Jamie Lynn's tiny heart urn with her ashes, cradled in his hands, and said, "This is why I will never do something to hurt you or ever leave you." 

I think I fell in love with him all over again.

The Story of Toilet Paper

Warning:  Might be TMI...but I think it is pretty funny!!!!  I wrote this a long time ago in my journal......


I woke up this morning and thought about my relationship with toilet paper throughout my life.

In the potty training years, we learn that girls must use toilet paper always. 

As an older child, you become aware that boys don't always have to....jealousy occurs.

Around 9 or 10, you really start establishing habits.  1 square, 2 squares?  I prefer 4 squares folded over to a 1 square dimension.

At 12, you are given the talk.  You start to look at the toilet paper to see if she has come.  The elusive first period.  You check all of the time, because when she comes...you are woman.

By 16, you are a master at looking to see if she comes.  You don't want to be caught off guard.  How embarrasing if she arrives when you least expect it!

By 18, many are becoming more "active".  You start wondering what the heck that strange discharge is.  Is it yeast?  Did I get something from that guy? Or do I just have funkiness??

When you become old enough to start buying your own toilet paper, you start having preferences.  Extra soft, soft, a little rough, sandpaper.  This brand leaves lint.  That brand has funky patterns.  This brand is cheap enough to fit my budget!

Your 20s, maybe you get married, maybe you have a long standing relationship....Not ready to have a baby, worried that you might be pregnant.  Is she coming?  I hope she is coming?  She isn't here?  Oh no, she's late!!!  Never mind. False alarm.  Whew!

You are finally ready to have babies.  You wait for her NOT to come.  You test, you wipe, you test, you wipe.  Am I pregnant already?  No...she comes.

There's more..you are really on the conception bandwagon. You learn there are things you are looking for during your cycle.  Is it wet?  Is it clear?  Is it sticky?  Is it stretchy?  How much does it stretch?  Am I ovulating or not?  ARGHHHH!!!!!!

Then one day you are postive....No worries right?  NOT!!!  You are obsessively wiping...Am I bleeding?  Am I bleeding?  Am I bleeding?  There is blood? Am I miscarrying?  Am I still pregnant?

Then you get past your 1st trimester....You feel a little more safe.  Now what the heck is that funky discharge?  Is that normal?!?!?!

As you reach your 3rd trimester....It starts getting difficult.  You can no longer look down.  You bring your neatly folded tissue paper up to your nose past your bulging stomach. Is that my water breaking or is that just pee? Is that what they call bloody show? 

After baby is born...you wait for the bleeding to stop.  Am I finally done?   Nothing there...oh wait...still bleeding....sick of pads!!!!!

Then you wait for her to come again.....

Will it ever end this love/hate affair with toilet paper?  Will we ever be able to break our bondage?  Will we ever not have to look at that darn toilet paper??????


Oh by the way, did you remember to wipe from front to back!!!