Monday Meet Up - Week 5

I never heard more shocking words. I was a nervous first time mom about to give birth any day. My friend pulled me out of the office fray. Her eyes were earnest, dark with intensity.

I have to tell you something. There will come a moment in time, in the early weeks of motherhood, when you will be exhausted almost beyond what you can bear. You will find yourself wishing you could throw the baby against the wall. You won’t, but the thought will cross your mind.

When that fleeting moment comes, remember this conversation. Remember I told you every new mother has feelings like yours. You are not shamefully abnormal. You are just a new mother. 

People are afraid to admit what I’m telling you for fear of what others will think. Thinking about it is normal. Doing it is not.

Courtesy D. Scott

I looked around to find out where I could go to get out of this motherhood mess I had foolishly gotten myself into. Had I not known what a wonderful mother this friend was, I would have thought she had gone a little off her rocker.

Barely eight weeks later, I found myself sitting on the top stair outside my son’s nursery. It would be years before I heard the term ‘sensory processing disorder’, but I could tell you right then and there - the scream he let out when I cranked his mobile for the first time was anything but normal.

I was sobbing and promising I’d never crank that hateful mobile again when it hit me. I knew the desperation my friend warned me about. I felt alone, confused, desperate, and exhausted beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

How thankful I was my friend had assured me I was normal. I took a deep breath and knew we’d make it.

Chapter 5 of Desperate: Hope for the Mom Who Needs to Breathe carried me back to those early, never ending days and nights of motherhood. I often say God gave me two children spaced seven years apart because none of us would have survived if I’d had lots of littles.

Sarah Mae and Sally Clarkson speak candidly about the often ill-addressed reality of young motherhood: sleep deprivation and its twin depression.

When you are a mamma of littles, you are just tired and have to weather it. There is no solution. . . (p. 56) you don’t notice you’ve been falling into the dark until you wake up one morning and getting out of bed seems to be the most difficult task of your day. (p.58)

Sarah details the telltale signs of depression: feelings of isolation, failure, decreased motivation, and apathy.

Well, hello! Young mothers are isolated. Success is often measured by whether the day included a shower or not. Who can feel energized when you are in a constant state of state of microburst sleep?

Sarah was blessed to find a woman like Sally to guide her through the days of young motherhood. I think of how different her life is from the life of the young woman I met in the doctor’s office a few days ago.

That young lady was overwhelmed and alone. You could see it in her eyes. There was no one to turn to as Sarah could turn to Sally.

Our chance meeting left me desperate for older moms like me to carry copies of this book around just in case we meet a mom in the desperate mode.

While I am Sally’s age, I read her gentle guidelines for Sarah and saw myself, even now, peeking back from in between each line:

1. Do you need sleep?
2. Have you been reading your Bible?
3. Do you feel alone?
4. Have you been watching your health?
5. How can you get help?
6. What do you need to invest in the joy factor of life?
   (p. 61-62)

Courtesy and in Loving Memory of Christina Jones Hooker

No matter what stage of life we are navigating right now, those are issues with which we all wrestle in this hurry-scurry world.

These realities increase my excitement regarding the in(RL) community and events scheduled for April 26^th and 27^th. If you are a young mom who feels desperate and alone or an older woman who has wisdom to share, come be a part of this world-wide event? 

Last year, some groups were as small as two and others were larger. To be honest, I’m a little afraid of throwing a party only to find no one’s coming. See, that’s the fraidy cat in me.

Nevertheless, God has burdened my heart to see older and younger women connect. Women just like you and me. I hope you’ll join me wherever you are.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Grab a copy of Desperate, and reach out to an older or younger woman. Sign up for in(RL), and let’s begin to build community right where we are. You know if a fraidy cat can, you can! 

To see the trailer and register for in(RL): click here

To read the story of the desperate young mom in the doctor's office: click here

Courtesy B. Creasy - 2010

To purchase a copy of Desperate, click the book link at the top right of this page.

Psalm 27:5 (NASB) For in the day of trouble, he will conceal me in his tabernacle; in the secret place  of his tent, he will hide me; He will lift me up on a rock.

    

Monday Meet Up – Weeks 3 and 4

Courtesy L. Richardson

The mom was maybe twenty-two at most. Intense concentration pushed the tip of her tongue to the corner of her mouth while she filled out the medical forms.

Rocking a car seat with her foot, she reached to pat first one child and then the other sitting in seats next to her. The five-month-old was wheezing.

As the dad strode in with a freshly mixed bottle, the calm evaporated. He set the room a-buzz barking orders at the eighteen-month-old and five-year-old.

The kids became more fretful as he strutted back and forth. The mom’s precise control began to slip as the dad’s nervous energy sucked the air out of the room.

As annoying as he was, it was plain to see how hard he was trying. Even plainer to see how afraid he was of someone else becoming impatient if the children grew too restless.

Courtesy  A. Squires

I was the only other person in the room, but he cared desperately about my opinion. That much was plain to see.

Where were the folks on whom this couple relied to speak a calming word, offer a quiet moment of respite, and reassure them in their journey?

I reached in my bag only to realize my copy of Desperate: Hope for the Mom Who Needs to Breathe was on the table in my living room. 

I thought of how Sarah Mae and Sally Clarkson take turns speaking about the seasons of parenting. I twisted and turned in my seat. If I said anything, I could overstep my boundaries.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

If I said the right thing, this young couple might stop and take a breath. The ache in my heart grew sharper as I saw the older two children begin to crumble under the chaos the dad was creating.

He was unaware that the children were causing far less commotion than was he. Finally, he came close enough to meet my eye by accident. It was then or never:

Young man, you are working so hard. It is plain to see that you are both working so hard to be good parents. Shhh . . . it’s o.k. Take a deep breath and calm down. Those are sweet little children who’ve barely made a peep since you came in. It’s obvious that you are doing the best you can by them. Relax. It’s going to be o.k. Just breathe.

I looked over at the mom. Her eyes were full of tears. She mouthed, “Thank you. Thank you!”

Too many young women (and men) are navigating the parenting maze alone. Indeed, they mount heroic efforts despite coming from fractured families where no one knew how to teach the gentle art of either friendship, marriage, or mothering.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

As Sarah Mae and Sally take turns speaking about the heartbreak and beauty of parenting, I see the seasons of my own life. I see the need for women in my age bracket to embrace the book as well as the young women around us.

I see the need for each of us, younger and older, to look for ways to build community. I need your vigor and enthusiasm as my body and mind begin to slow a bit. You need to be able to ask me if it will always be this hard, and a million other things, I’m sure.

Do you understand the situation I described above because I have described your life experience? Perhaps you have also observed a young couple or single parent adrift and alone - desperate with the need to breathe - and wondered what to say.

Have you felt ill-equipped to speak an encouraging word to a struggling young mom? Do you wonder if you are all alone in your parenting struggles?

Courtesy M. Horrocks

Won’t you join me in reading Desperate? Whether you are a young mom with lots of littles or a mom in the scrunched season of life launching young adults while caring for elders, we will find common ground in these pages.

Consider Sally’s words:

In this individualistic culture where everyone is too busy and overwhelmed with life, the groups in which we find community will inevitably be the groups we start ourselves. (p. 22)

Are you looking for ways to build community? Won’t you join me for in(RL) on April 26^th and 27^th? This worldwide event is free. On Friday the 26^th, we will watch a computer webcast from the comfort of our own homes. On Saturday the 27^th, we will meet with a small group of other women and begin to build community.

Come on now. Don’t be a friady cat. Go watch the trailer, register, and find a group close to you by clicking here:

in(RL) hosted by (in)courage

To order your copy of Desperate, click on the book link at the top right of this page. 

To read another story of a desperate young couple and how our paths crossed, read:

Fear and Loathing at the Grocery Store

Courtesy B. Creasy - 2010

Micah 6: 8 (NIV)

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.  And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. 

Swimming Upstream While Blindfolded

Courtesy A. Hughes

It's that time of year again. Store aisles are crammed with back to school supplies. Retailers sell those at a frenzied pace so Christmas stock can prematurely fill the shelves again. In homes throughout the land, the air crackles with anticipation.

No matter what schooling option you embrace, this time of year lends itself to apprehension and re-evaluation. Will my child get 'the right' teacher? Has he or she lost gains made last year during summer downtime? How in the world am I going to navigate three carpool lines at the same time!

For the homeschooler, the questions have a different slant, but the categories of worry are universal. Will I be the teacher my child needs? Are we on track with what the rest of the world is doing, or should I be doing more faster? How in the world will I teach three children in three different grades and tend to a roaming toddler on the loose?

2012

In our home, we've begun the count down to graduation. As of today, five hundred thirty-seven to go. O.K. I've started the countdown. My 10^th grader is mostly oblivious and only cares about the number of hours left in today's school day.

I began to feel the future coming last year this time and panic rose. All I've been, maybe all I know how to be, is a homeschooling mom. When I am done, it will be who I've been for eighteen years.

This past week, I visited our local homeschooling supply store. Many years, it's been my home away from home. I count the former owners as my extended 'family'. The matriarch and I reminisced and commiserated. She has said goodbyes to so many as one family after another graduated their last. I will join those numbers. It is sad - that future I see coming.

I laughed about all the 'new stuff' I wouldn't get to explore and how my visits are few and far between now. I wondered aloud how it will feel when I don't have the answers to questions posed by those coming along behind me. Time moves on, and we move with it. I tell myself that's a good thing, but I am already in a race with time. I'm trying to redefine me before the inevitable gets here.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

I think of you. For now, I am still in the trenches with you. Some days the trench is deeper than others, but I see the end of the ditch up ahead. I see you wrestling with an unknown future like blindfolded fish swimming upstream. I hear the questions echoing in your soul.

Am I smart enough? What if we've made the wrong decision, and everyone else is right? Maybe we should just throw in the towel and swim with the rest of the fish who know where they are going. When the future gets here, will my children thank me? Will I take a deep sigh of relief as I watch them fly, or will I drown in despair if they flounder to find their footing in an ever more fraidy cat world? Oh, the questions that haunt us are many as the voice of doubt courts our souls.

Some of us will, for compelling and appropriate reasons, alter the course of our schooling choices. Homeschoolers will join the ranks of the traditional schoolers. The naysayers who gasped in horror at the very thought of schooling at home will realize the choice is not so foreign after all. As parents, we will do the best we can as seasons of life change from one to another.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

I think of all the years I wondered what you are wondering now. I think of all the days I fretted and worried. In my blindfolded state while floundering through uncharted waters, I held the hand of the one who knew the future before I knew my children. I reminded him I was schooling the gift he had given me to steward for only a season and cried out for him to perfect my feeble efforts. And now, I have a glimpse of what I could not see in my seasons of doubt and fear. The journey was worth it.

He is there in the midst of your indecision and fear. As this new school year begins, no matter what your schooling choice, remember: he will hold your hand. All you have to do is ask.
Psalm 32:8 (NIV) I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you.

Courtesy B. Creasy 2010

Isaiah 30:21 (NIV) Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”

Spreading a Little Sunshine

It is almost the end of two arduous weeks with an even more arduous one looming ahead. The heat wave undulating over the earth has left me feeling like I have been through a pasta maker. Picture Flat Stanley's grandmother. My heart and soul feel even flatter. I know friends, faithful friends, far and near are praying for me.

I messaged a friend about the prayers going up and how I needed to hear from God. Even as we typed back and forth, a note was landing in my email inbox. A note from a stranger. I'll tell you more about that note later. I have to percolate on it a while longer.

As I was absorbing the message from the stranger, I saw a friend's name pop up on my sidebar. Oh! She had a new blog post up on her site, Journeying Sue. I hit on it faster than a fly on watermelon at a picnic. 

A friend had nominated her for a Sunshine Award which is awarded to “bloggers who positively and creatively inspire others in the blogosphere”. My friend Sue and I met at the conference I mention so often (Titus 2:1). I mention it frequently because it has been pivotal in my life. Sue is one of those pivots. Meeting her was to experience instantaneous and permanent friendship. She is the definition of sunshine, and I smiled thinking how fitting for another friend to label her just so.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Award winners are asked to nominate ten other bloggers who inspire others. It's a fun way to create a blog roll when you get right down to it. I was excited to see who would inspire my inspiring friend. Are you laughing already? Yes. There was my blog listed among her top 10 faves. I just LOL'd. Not to be cliché.

You see, she is an army nurse practitioner that has served 'in theater'. That's fancy talk for in a combat zone. She has 6 kiddos and a spouse still on active duty. She homeschools, and she blogs. She is in triathlons for goodness sakes! She is an iron woman to my fraidy cat. How in the world I inspire her is anybody's guess, especially mine! But, I love her to pieces and can't thank her enough for being the 1-2 punch of encouragement in my life today.

Let me introduce you to MY favorite blogs worthy of the Sunshine Award in their own rights. The weekend is coming. Stay in out of the heat, and peruse my little neighborhood of the blogging universe?

1. Learning Table is presently nominated by Circle of Moms as one of the top 25 Teacher Moms of 2012. (Drop by and vote for her?) She is my IRL friend and sister of the heart.
2. Eternal Instants is one of the sweetest blogs I've seen. One look at her photography and companion blog posts and you'll be hooked! 
    
3. The Daisyhead is one of my blogging mentors. You won't want to miss her series, Our Sick Babies. She blogs about crocheting, green living, homeschooling and more. She's like the Target of blogs - so much under one roof! She taught me how to compost the lazy way!
   
   
4. 

   Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

    Deeper With Jesus in Rhode Island is the reason I nearly quit blogging. Lori's words are so compelling I feel there is simply nothing left to say. If you need to drink deeply from the well of living water, she has the cup.
5. The Budget Maven is a young lady who ignored the differences in our ages and adopted me as her friend. Her blog has won awards two years in a row at the Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writers Conference. For good reason, I'm sure you'll see.
   
   
6. Beth Pensinger is another young lady who stole my heart when she compared me to her beloved aunt. She has a heart for young 20/30-somethings and is working on a book that will speak to many. 
    
7. Amber Howard Massey has a heart for horses and the people who ride them. She is working on a devotional book, derived from her blog. I love her concept of teaching spiritual lessons via her riding experiences. 
    

8. 

   Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

   Meet Penny is another of my blogging mentors. She is a tour de force of homsechooling info, couponing info, freebies, ebooks and too many more projects to name. She is both a Pinterest and blogging award winner. 
    
9.   Lovin My Crazy Life details the ups and downs of life as a mom. She maintains a vibrant sense of humor despite the challenges of  her son's autism and related learning struggles. 
   
   

   1. 
      

      Jennifer A. James is one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I've met. Her blog echos hear heart as she encourages homeschooling moms.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Now for 10 things about me: My favorite color is blue. My favorite animal is the leafy sea horse. I have no favorite number. (Who makes up these Q's???) If you know me, you know my favorite drink is hot chocolate...even when it is 107F in the shade. Facebook over twitter any day. Good movie vs good book unless I have downtime. My passion – to be God's head cheerleader. Getting vs giving gifts bcz I find it hard to receive. Favorite day is any day I do something out of the ordinary and get out of the house. Hey, I homeschool. I don't get out much! ;-) Favorite flowers are hydrangeas, calla lilies, and zinnias.

Courtesy B. Creasy 2010

I am so grateful for you, my fraidy cat friends. I am equally grateful for my blogging community. Every time this fraidy cat gets ready to throw in the towel, one of these bloggers comes to my rescue. I hope you'll thank them for encouraging me to keep doing what I do . . . even when I'm not sure you are out there! Love you long and strong. See you soon?

I'm an Old Dog, but I've Got New Tricks!

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Despite my fears, which induce kicking and screaming while gnashing and gnawing, I am in the process of conquering lots of them. If I can do it, you can too. A fear can be as simple as feeling overwhelmed by technology or as complex as agoraphobia and panic attacks.

When I began this blog, I had a standard joke: I married a geek and birthed two so that I don't have to be one. If my husband so much as changed one icon on my desktop, I couldn't tell you which one. None the less as my computer booted up, I was unhinged to the point of tears because my 6^th sense told me he'd gone to meddling again!

The sum total of the many crises we have endured since 1999 resulted in my experiencing minor panic attacks. I had no clue they were slipping up on me and ramping up in intensity until my counselor identified the problem. By the time she did, I was on the verge of developing agoraphobia. I found I could only venture out of the house for basic, unavoidable necessities and then only if I could complete the chore within fifteen minutes start to finish.

2011

This last year has been one of self-discovery. I've combated that agoraphobia thing pretty well as demonstrated by plane trips to New Mexico and DC for writing/blogging coferences. The panic attacks are still minor. I recognize them now as the begin to besiege me. I see the light at the end of the tunnel, and it's not a train. Well . . . if it is, do not send me the memo. Ignorance is bliss, and I'll keep it that way for now!

These last two months have been pivotal in my campaign against techno-phobia. I've even amazed my three geeks a time or two! My husband recently gasped, “You...you are doing HTML!” I think he resisted the urge to run look out the window to see if pigs had started to fly. When Son #1 realized I knew what a hashtag was and how to use it, let's just say you are rich now if you invested in smelling salts a few weeks ago.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

I recently began an online Bible study re the Proverbs Woman hoping to address my weakness in life-planning. The truth is, I felt as if I might feel more of a failure by the time the study is over. I was a-skeert to try it. I overcame that fraidy cat and jumped on board. I'll let you know how it works out.

One of the harder things about the impact of living in limbo and crisis for over a decade has been the effect on my ability to plan and implement what I plan. Son #1 and I were discussing my frustration with me this morning. I have been praying about it a lot. In fact, my frustration in that area is one reason I signed on for the online Bible study!

Everywhere I look, there is a project waiting for my attention. It seems I will never catch up from the set back of falling and breaking my leg over two years ago now. I mean, goodness, I was only off my feet for 5 months. How could it take this long to catch up? I think the short answer is: every time we had a life setback, I began slipping farther and farther behind. So, between my fall, Jeff's near death from sepsis, and my mom's eight weeks of death and dying while in an ICU unit, I was done for.

2007

It didn't help that I came from a family in which goals involved only what it took to get from one day to the next. My dad was a bi-vocational pastor. In the 60's that meant you worked for free as a pastor and then worked a 40 hour a week job on top of that for pay. Life didn't leave a lot of time for grand projects, goals, or to-do lists. So, we lived from one day to the next without much thought of the distant future.

The sum total of my life has me feeling as though I spend most of my time wrestling an alligator. If I'm not so engaged, its as if I'm slogging through neck deep wet cement as it sets up while carrying a 50# load of rocks on my back. I am a party animal. What can I say?

Today, I decided to embrace technology in hopes of helping me manage life with more productivity. My blogging friends introduced me to a nifty little thing called Evernote. I ran in fear. Today, I quit running, turned around, and faced my fear.

Courtesy A. Huges

I opened the program, began to explore it, and created 2 'notebooks' using the applications. One is to track my ongoing kitchen renovation. The other is to track a 30 day challenge I am doing to refine and improve my capabilities as a blogger. I am feeling pretty smug here in the wee hours let me tell you.

Here's the thing about fear. It is a harsh task master. If we give an inch, it will take a mile. Myself? I'm tired of being bossed around by that greedy tyrant. How 'bout you? I'm so glad you have come along on this journey with me. I hope, in doing so, you are taking the 1^st steps to taking your territory back from the fears that haunt you. If I can learn a few new tricks, you can too. Even if you are an old do like me. I promise.

Courtesy B. Creasy 2010

Love you long and strong, fraidy cat. Don't you stay gone now, you hear? 
  

Isaiah 41:13 (The Message)

That's right. Because I, your God, have a firm grip on you and I'm not letting go. I'm telling you, 'Don't panic. I'm right here to help you.'

Imperfect Child with a Perfect Purpose

2006

He was still shorter than me when he wore spy shades to church while sporting his tattoo art. The designs were his own, courtesy of tattoo markers. Yes, I am 'that' mom. I bought them. At that juncture in his young life, he had considered a variety of careers: monk, world champion hang glider, poker champ, chemist, hypnotist and comic book producer to name a few. I figured this too would pass.

This Sunday, he was caught between potential careers of tattoo artist and detective. The glasses had little mirrors that allowed him to watch the folks behind us. My good friends sat there watching him watch them. After the service, Shane chuckled, “That boy is always going to march to his own drum, isn't he?” Then, they compared tatts.

The tattoo stage had long passed when the season of bullying sucked his soul dry. I guess, however, it's no wonder he found the beat of heavy metal appealing. Our older son only listened to Classical music until he was in high school. They say no two kids are alike! We are the picture dictionary example of that truth.

2011

When I began the series, “The Gentle Art of Kamikaze Parenting”, I felt as if I was treading on ice so thin my feet were under water as I was writing. What did I know about parenting to tell you about it? If you knew 'the truth', you'd scoff at me. I don't have all the answers, but I have learned something in this mean season.

You can rule by an iron fist when they are little. The older they get and the more tense life is for them, the softer that guiding instrument must become. Did I want my son listening to some of what he listened to? No. Could I stop him? Theoretically, yes. He's under 18. Practically, in this day of instantaneous media connectivity, no. You don't realize that when they are 3 and 8 and 10. You think you will always be able to keep your fences intact.

By the time they are 14, you realize it is time for you to put your trust in an Almighty Creator God and the job you've done as a parent. There aren't enough software management programs like Net Nanny or Covenant Eyes to keep a computer savvy kid away from what's out there. We set our limits, explained the consequences, then began to pick our battles as parents.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Long hair? Ok. As long as you are obedient, speak respectfully, and keep your language clean. Short of those 3 parameters, you go to the barber shop. We made good on that promise. So, when I said we set our boundaries and then picked our battles, I meant it.

Heavy metal music? Sigh. Even tho' it made our hair curl, we chose to use it, and are still using it, as a teaching tool. We examine lyrics and talk about how angry, lonely, and hopeless some of them sound. We talk about how Christ is the answer to the questions contained in the indecipherable (to us) lyrics.

We look for Christian bands whose music is tailored to reach out to disaffected youth and compare the hopefulness and truth in those lyrics. We take him to local concerts to meet local youth who comprise those bands. It was and is a full tilt campaign designed to prevent Satan from finishing the job the bullies had started.

Front Row Center- Winter Jam 2012

Our 'unsocialized', homeschooled, socially 'impaired' Aspie kid can walk up to any band member anywhere and begin to expound on the intricacies of the music they have in common. He never meets a stranger, and unlike the bullies on the block, they never call him strange. In fact, his pics with some famous bands have now earned him some fairly respectable 'street creds' with the kids who used to bully him the most.

As I was praying with Isaac one morning, an incredible thing unfolded. It was as if I felt the Holy Spirit surround me. As my words sought the Lord that morning, my heart cried out in fear of the music and the anger and the history.

Into all that soul-chaos, it was as if God said, “I've got this. I've got this kid. He's mine. Satan cannot undo what I have begun. I have a good work for him to do. This thing you fear so much, this music, will be the very thing that enables him to do what I have ordained for him to accomplish. He will be my voice to angry, disaffected kids that will need someone like him, vs someone like you, on their side. He will 'get them'. He will speak my language for them. I've got this. He's mine.”

Fencing - 2012

I wept uncontrollably. Me? Mine? The imperfect mother of the imperfect child? How could this be. A calm I cannot explain filled my soul.

So it was that I became another version of 'that' mom. You know, the one that did not want my kid to talk to 'that' kid because he might sully my kid. We were at a local fast food joint. My heavy metal kid, always on the lookout for a kindred spirit, looked up to see what could have been Alice Cooper's younger twin walk in the door. Son #2 literally vibrated with excitement. Me, not so much.

Boy, oh boy. We are getting to the good part now. Son #2 is about to take me to the woodshed as he reaches out in love to someone I'd rather have run from. I can't wait to tell you how I watched God's promise begin to bear fruit in my son's life. I can't wait to tell you about Son #2 and the Rocker Dude.

Courtesy B. Creasy - 2010

Matthew 25:45 (The Message)

"He will answer them, 'I'm telling the solemn truth: Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me—you failed to do it to me.'

So, We Meet Again...GULP (Pt. 2)

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Her comment hung in the air taunting me, tormenting me. She had to go there, didn't she? “If your husband is not 100% behind your efforts, you might as well go home and shut it all down. I meant it. It's not worth it.”

Her assertion was couched in the middle of other worthwhile and instructive material. The others probably heard it and moved right along with her. Again, we had one of those cone of silence moments, Rachael and I. As some Southerners might say, “Ironical, isn't it?”

They other keynote and break out speakers had all touched on the topic of faith, spouse, family, and home (in that order) coming before our blogging ventures. No big surprise. After all it was a conference by and for Christian women who both homeschooled and blogged.

While many worked from home via their income earning internet platforms, they were stay at home moms. It was almost like singing to the choir. To us, it wasn't that we were drinking the party line Koolaid or repeating a scout-like oath. It was a conviction we sacrificed to practice – faith, spouse, family and then everything else.
I slunk down in my chair and began to lick my wounds. I looked around at all the other successful women imagining their cozy marriages and thinking, “Here I am again, an imposter. I was one a year ago. I'm still one. Poser.”

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Back in January, I had almost done exactly what she said. I lost my words. My finger hung over the blog delete button for hours every day. The only thing that stopped me was knowing the blog was a journal of my way out of darkness. What if I needed it one day after I tossed it into the big recycle bin of cyberspace. Delete meant forever.

As words failed me, so did my readership. Those stats that should not define me plummeted to zero. Nobody cared if I drifted away and never came back. Who was I kidding? Nobody cared. It wasn't worth the uphill battle I was fighting and had been fighting for most of 25 years. The blog was not the only thing I was considering deleting from my life.

By the time I got to the conference, we had reached an uneasy truce. The monster in the shadows had retreated again, but I knew he was out there, licking his chops, pacing back and forth, waiting. I wake up every day feeling his hot breath on my neck and hearing his fevered panting in my ear. He wants us. Satan wants us as one more divorce statistic, and he is using the monster that hides in the shadows of our lives to wear us down. Day in and day out. Year in and year out. It. Never. Stops. We keep fighting. We are exhausted, but he is indefatigable.

Courtesy A. Huges

Again, I wanted to jump up. Only this time I wanted to scream, “Point of order! You don't know me. Don't be getting all up in my stuff when you don't even know me!” The same geyser of tears I had fought back when we met in '04 tore open. Again, I was drowning in the tears I was barely holding back. Lamaze breathing is not just for labor, let me tell you.

I sat numb for the rest of the session knowing I had a call to make before the plane took off for home. I carried on as if I was just like everyone else and was a ferocious note taker. I asked questions during Q&A's and amassed more information than I knew what to do with. All the while, the heaviness of the phone call I had to make occupied half my mind.

I rushed out of the last session, and there she was. I had already deferred her prayers. She came rushing to me, arms outstretched to wrap me in prayer. She prayed despite having no clue as to what she was praying for. I murmured my thanks and dashed away but not in time for her to miss the soul-tears that were drowning me.

2012

I sat in the silence of my room. Bags all packed for the airport shuttle. I stared at the fraidy cat in the mirror while my hands shifted my phone from one hand to the other. I watched myself in the mirror as I made the call.

“We have to talk. Things are a mess. They've always been a mess no matter how hard we've worked to clean them up. This new thing I'm doing, that I think I can do, my head is about to explode with it all. But, I have to know. Are you 100% behind me or not? Because it can't be 100% today and then 25% tomorrow. You either have to be all in or all out. When I come home, I need you to tell me which it is. Because if you do not know in the depths of your soul, that you are 100% behind me, I'm pulling the plug on the blog and my ideas for my writing career. I'll never look back. I have to know. What do you want me to do?”

The quiet on the other end was pensive but not unfriendly. He was weighing the impact his abusive past has had on us and wondering how it might manifest itself in the future. “I'm in. I'm all in. I want to see you succeed. I believe in you. I do.” Finally, I cried.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

The monsters are still out there. The one who seeks to kill and destroy as well as the one that gave him a helping hand decades ago. As much damage as they have done, we have lived to fight another day. The blog is a testament to our grit, our determination, and our love. Try as the monsters might, they have not deleted us.

Love you long and strong. Even when you feel like an imposter who's ready to hit the delete button. Come back soon and bring a friend?

John 10:10 (Message)

A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of.