www.sandraevertson.com
11 years ago
Posted by
Victoria
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Forgiveness... a simple word but a hard concept. I have had this word on my mind lately as I see a thousand Facebook posts with quotes about forgiving others, enemies, parents. I think about it as I listen to Christian radio and hear song after song about forgiveness. I pray about it as I read the Bible and see verse after verse about forgiving others as we have been forgiven. I have never really had a spirit of resentment, I don't hold a grudge or have anyone in my life that has really hurt me beyond what I could forgive, but I know people who have struggled with forgiveness...people close to me who maybe can't quite find it within to forgive completely. If I am being honest, I know that there are people I need to forgive. Maybe they haven't even hurt me directly, but have hurt someone close to me. I am not sure which is worse, having someone hurt me or having someone hurt someone I love. I think when the people closest to us are hurting or angry, we justify their hurt and resentment by making it our own. You know what I mean, maybe your children come home from school and tell you about a kid on the playground who was picking on them or called them a hurtful name and all of a sudden you are mad at that child too and that child's parents for raising such a little brat that would say hurtful things to your child, how dare they. Not only do they now need to forgive, but so do you, for the feelings you felt or the words you said. Forgiveness becomes harder when anger is justified, especially when you have someone sharing it with you. I know there are people I need to forgive. We all have people we need to forgive. Just because you know in your head what you should do doesn't mean it comes easy or that our spirit is willing to follow. I have been thinking about this a lot lately. What does forgiveness look like? What does it mean? How do you find it within?
I don't really have the answers to these questions so if you're expecting some enlightenment or words of wisdom here, you have probably come to the wrong place. I think forgiveness looks different for each person and in each circumstance. For some it may come in the form of a single moment of brokenness, a change of heart, a sudden willingness to repair a relationship. I think most of us picture a scene where the person who hurt us breaks down, apologizes, says I am sorry, repents to us, shows remorse and then we are able to break down that wall of anger and hurt and just let go and forgive, start over fresh with a clean slate. The Bible paints this kind of a model of forgiveness, as believers we are called to repentance. Christ came so we could be forgiven, but first there must be a moment of clarity, a moment where we see our sin for what it is and we become broken with our remorse, we have to apologize, confess, repent and then comes the forgiveness. I think this is why we get the idea that this is what it should look like, that forgive and forget is the way it should be because that is the way it works with God, but the reality is that we aren't God and there may not always be that moment. The person or people who hurt us may never come to a place of remorse, they may never utter those words we long to hear. They may not even know that it is important, they may not even know what exactly they did to hurt you, or they may not really be that sorry, then what do we do? What does forgiveness look like then? and how do we find it?
I think in these cases it is more of a process, it doesn't happen in an instant. I believe sometimes it comes slowly and with time, and it may never look like a dramatic, TV kind of moment where everyone is crying, hugging and restored. Forgiveness is really more about freeing up your heart and mind so that whoever hurt you doesn't hold a part of you hostage, it is about finding a spirit of peace within yourself. Could this just be kind of a letting go, an "I wish you well" attitude, without restoration? I used to not think so, but now I am not so sure. I think this kind of forgiveness can come in all kinds of forms. I am learning that maybe forgiving doesn't equal forgetting. Some hurts run deep, some things get inside and mess with our heads and our hearts to the point that we believe they are a part of us. Sometimes anger is easier to handle than hurt, sometimes building a wall of resentment is easier than breaking down, especially if the list of hurts is long. Maybe the person or people who hurt us didn't just say or do one thing, maybe it was a series of hurtful things, months, years, a lifetime of hurt. We may think that forgiving is giving the person an out, or that it shows weakness on our part, but I don't believe that is true. Forgiveness doesn't have to mean that everything is forgotten, the past is erased, or that we have to subject ourselves to more hurt. I think that it really can mean moving on. I think it can be as simple as an acknowledgement that no one is perfect, that we all make mistakes, and it doesn't have to define us. We don't have to allow ourselves to be drug back to the place where we felt belittled or inadequate. It is o.k. to forgive, move on, and not look back. Head games and heart games stay with us, especially when the person who hurt us is someone close to us, like a family member or a friend. The closer we are to someone, the deeper it goes and the more affect it can have on our lives, our minds, our hearts. It can help shape what we think and believe about ourselves. Words hurt and whoever said they don't lied! For example, hurtful abusive words said to a child never really leave, they will always have a part of them that remembers what was said and a part of them that will always believe it was true, even when they are grown. The same is true for adults, it is hard to remember the positive yet easy to remember the negative. The person who hurts us may have done a thousand nice things before the hurt and may spend a lifetime saying and doing nice things afterward but we will always remember the hurtful words and actions first. I don't think we ever really "outgrow" those kinds of feelings, but we can overcome them. We don't have to let our past hurt define who we are or influence who we become. This is where forgiveness becomes vital in our hearts and lives. Forgiveness doesn't wipe the slate clean, but it wipes our hearts clean so that we can make room for peace, love and God. God can make all things new. He can take those hurtful words, hurtful actions, abuse, neglect, lies, pain, whatever it is and He can replace it with His love, His peace, His comfort. All we have to do is find a path to forgiveness, a moment of release and then He can do the rest.
I don't have all the answers to forgiveness and I am still praying for those close to me who are struggling with the process. I pray that they can overcome and that I no longer justify their hurt and anger; however, I think that maybe instead of me waiting for the aha! moment or the storybook ending, I need to open my eyes to the fact that the process may have already started, that the letting go is the process, that maybe the moment of release has already happened, there is no looking back and God will work out the rest and that maybe I just need to join them on the path, let go and let God.
“Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart.” ~ Corrie Ten Boom
I don't really have the answers to these questions so if you're expecting some enlightenment or words of wisdom here, you have probably come to the wrong place. I think forgiveness looks different for each person and in each circumstance. For some it may come in the form of a single moment of brokenness, a change of heart, a sudden willingness to repair a relationship. I think most of us picture a scene where the person who hurt us breaks down, apologizes, says I am sorry, repents to us, shows remorse and then we are able to break down that wall of anger and hurt and just let go and forgive, start over fresh with a clean slate. The Bible paints this kind of a model of forgiveness, as believers we are called to repentance. Christ came so we could be forgiven, but first there must be a moment of clarity, a moment where we see our sin for what it is and we become broken with our remorse, we have to apologize, confess, repent and then comes the forgiveness. I think this is why we get the idea that this is what it should look like, that forgive and forget is the way it should be because that is the way it works with God, but the reality is that we aren't God and there may not always be that moment. The person or people who hurt us may never come to a place of remorse, they may never utter those words we long to hear. They may not even know that it is important, they may not even know what exactly they did to hurt you, or they may not really be that sorry, then what do we do? What does forgiveness look like then? and how do we find it?
I think in these cases it is more of a process, it doesn't happen in an instant. I believe sometimes it comes slowly and with time, and it may never look like a dramatic, TV kind of moment where everyone is crying, hugging and restored. Forgiveness is really more about freeing up your heart and mind so that whoever hurt you doesn't hold a part of you hostage, it is about finding a spirit of peace within yourself. Could this just be kind of a letting go, an "I wish you well" attitude, without restoration? I used to not think so, but now I am not so sure. I think this kind of forgiveness can come in all kinds of forms. I am learning that maybe forgiving doesn't equal forgetting. Some hurts run deep, some things get inside and mess with our heads and our hearts to the point that we believe they are a part of us. Sometimes anger is easier to handle than hurt, sometimes building a wall of resentment is easier than breaking down, especially if the list of hurts is long. Maybe the person or people who hurt us didn't just say or do one thing, maybe it was a series of hurtful things, months, years, a lifetime of hurt. We may think that forgiving is giving the person an out, or that it shows weakness on our part, but I don't believe that is true. Forgiveness doesn't have to mean that everything is forgotten, the past is erased, or that we have to subject ourselves to more hurt. I think that it really can mean moving on. I think it can be as simple as an acknowledgement that no one is perfect, that we all make mistakes, and it doesn't have to define us. We don't have to allow ourselves to be drug back to the place where we felt belittled or inadequate. It is o.k. to forgive, move on, and not look back. Head games and heart games stay with us, especially when the person who hurt us is someone close to us, like a family member or a friend. The closer we are to someone, the deeper it goes and the more affect it can have on our lives, our minds, our hearts. It can help shape what we think and believe about ourselves. Words hurt and whoever said they don't lied! For example, hurtful abusive words said to a child never really leave, they will always have a part of them that remembers what was said and a part of them that will always believe it was true, even when they are grown. The same is true for adults, it is hard to remember the positive yet easy to remember the negative. The person who hurts us may have done a thousand nice things before the hurt and may spend a lifetime saying and doing nice things afterward but we will always remember the hurtful words and actions first. I don't think we ever really "outgrow" those kinds of feelings, but we can overcome them. We don't have to let our past hurt define who we are or influence who we become. This is where forgiveness becomes vital in our hearts and lives. Forgiveness doesn't wipe the slate clean, but it wipes our hearts clean so that we can make room for peace, love and God. God can make all things new. He can take those hurtful words, hurtful actions, abuse, neglect, lies, pain, whatever it is and He can replace it with His love, His peace, His comfort. All we have to do is find a path to forgiveness, a moment of release and then He can do the rest.
I don't have all the answers to forgiveness and I am still praying for those close to me who are struggling with the process. I pray that they can overcome and that I no longer justify their hurt and anger; however, I think that maybe instead of me waiting for the aha! moment or the storybook ending, I need to open my eyes to the fact that the process may have already started, that the letting go is the process, that maybe the moment of release has already happened, there is no looking back and God will work out the rest and that maybe I just need to join them on the path, let go and let God.
“Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart.” ~ Corrie Ten Boom
Posted by
Victoria
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Lydia laughed as she brought me the Barbie, "Look Mommy, she broke her arms." I looked down at the armless Barbie, but I wasn't laughing. "How did she break her arms?" Her response was hard to make out because of the giggling laughter " I couldn't get her shirt off so I pulled them too hard I think and they broke" I scolded her for being destructive and told her we would have to throw the Barbie away because there was no way to fix her arms. Lydia just shrugged it off and went back to playing with her other Barbie Dolls. A week later Emma brings me a drum she had gotten as a souvenir from Tweetsie. She had pulled the top and bottom off and un-threaded the string around it and tied it in knots, it was ruined. When I questioned her as to why she did it, her response was that it was old and she didn't really want it anymore anyway. When did my children decide it was o.k. to destroy and tear up their things? The sad part is that the Barbie and drum aren't the only items, this has been going on for a while now. Broken toys, missing pieces, stuff thrown around and stuffed in closets, torn papers, wasted papers and broken crayons. I looked around and realized that they just don't really care. They have so much stuff, they don't even care when something is torn, broken, missing. They have become so used to having, they aren't grateful for it anymore. Time for a change.
My children have too much stuff. They have never really wanted for anything. They have been spoiled, they have been lavished with stuff. In our defense, they do not get toys when we go to the store. We have never bought them anything just for no reason, they don't go toy shopping during the year. We don't bribe them with toys or award them with toys. In their defense, they have never thrown a fit for a toy or a tantrum, they never ask for things when we are shopping and have never fussed, complained or pouted when we say no. These are all good things, but then the holidays come around, the special vacation trips, birthdays... and we make up for it by buying, buying, and buying. They get lots of gifts at each holiday, from multiple family members. My parents, Jason's parents, Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, and extended family. They get a windfall almost every holiday or special occasion. They have toys in every room of our home. We donate every year before Christmas, we make them give up some things, but for every box that goes, three more come in. It is overwhelming and ridiculous and it has created a sense of ungratefulness, it has become expected and no longer allows them to value what they own. If you have 12 Barbie Dolls, why do you care if one gets broken, if you have 10 baby dolls, why does it matter if you leave one in the rain, if you have a whole closet full of art supplies, why do you care if you leave all the paint out to dry up? There is always more, there is always a replacement. Things don't matter, you don't cherish what you have. I began to explain it to them, "If you only had 2 Barbie's would you think it was funny to break one?" I am guessing no. So it begins.... change.
We are cleaning out toys. My children are cutting their possessions in half and in some cases more. It has not been easy. Emma cried when I told her she had to get rid of over 25 stuffed animals that were piled up on her bed, she hugged and kissed each one as she packed it up. Lydia cried when I told her she could only keep 3 baby dolls and all the rest had to go. I felt bad watching them give up toys that had cost us a lot of money and games like Candyland, that they have outgrown, but that held sweet memories of when they were little. Emma and I both struggled as we sorted out her books. We love books! and it was hard to get rid of some of them. A book called Some Dog, that I remember holding her on my lap and reading to her, Little Golden books that she would sit and read to me cuddled up close, but it is time for them to go. She reads chapter books now, someone else can use those books, and toys, and dolls. Someone who maybe doesn't have anything.
Emma decided to donate her stuffed animals to the Shelter Home, for children who have had to leave abusive situations, sometimes with only the clothes on their back. Lydia wants to donate her books to the library for the children who can't afford books. We decided to give some dolls and toys to a little girl we know whose family just lost everything in a fire. I had given her a lot of clothes last week, but no toys. We decided toys would be good too. Luckily my girls have never really been brats over what they have, they have never expected things or had an attitude of entitlement, at least outwardly, but they have come to be ungrateful and unappreciative in their hearts. They have forgotten that someone took their time and effort to buy them these things because they are loved and because they care. They have forgotten that there are children the world over that would cherish and love just one doll, or one animal, or one crayon, who would never think about laughing if it broke or became lost.
So far Operation clean-up has been a success. My house is cleaner than it has been in 5 years. As their rooms get cleaner and more organized, my children are starting to enjoy parting with things, and everyone is happier. It is a difficult lesson to learn seeing as how this world and culture we live in tells us more is better, bigger is better and your success is measured by what you own. I am thankful that God has allowed this to be a time of teaching. Teaching our children about what it means to give and think about others needs ahead of our own. Teach them to appreciate what they have and to never take their blessings for granted. That our success comes in loving God, putting others before our selves and growing more like Christ. This is where our abundance should be, not in earthly possessions, in Christ!
“Don’t store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal. Store your treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal.Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be." Matthew 6:19-21
My children have too much stuff. They have never really wanted for anything. They have been spoiled, they have been lavished with stuff. In our defense, they do not get toys when we go to the store. We have never bought them anything just for no reason, they don't go toy shopping during the year. We don't bribe them with toys or award them with toys. In their defense, they have never thrown a fit for a toy or a tantrum, they never ask for things when we are shopping and have never fussed, complained or pouted when we say no. These are all good things, but then the holidays come around, the special vacation trips, birthdays... and we make up for it by buying, buying, and buying. They get lots of gifts at each holiday, from multiple family members. My parents, Jason's parents, Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, and extended family. They get a windfall almost every holiday or special occasion. They have toys in every room of our home. We donate every year before Christmas, we make them give up some things, but for every box that goes, three more come in. It is overwhelming and ridiculous and it has created a sense of ungratefulness, it has become expected and no longer allows them to value what they own. If you have 12 Barbie Dolls, why do you care if one gets broken, if you have 10 baby dolls, why does it matter if you leave one in the rain, if you have a whole closet full of art supplies, why do you care if you leave all the paint out to dry up? There is always more, there is always a replacement. Things don't matter, you don't cherish what you have. I began to explain it to them, "If you only had 2 Barbie's would you think it was funny to break one?" I am guessing no. So it begins.... change.
We are cleaning out toys. My children are cutting their possessions in half and in some cases more. It has not been easy. Emma cried when I told her she had to get rid of over 25 stuffed animals that were piled up on her bed, she hugged and kissed each one as she packed it up. Lydia cried when I told her she could only keep 3 baby dolls and all the rest had to go. I felt bad watching them give up toys that had cost us a lot of money and games like Candyland, that they have outgrown, but that held sweet memories of when they were little. Emma and I both struggled as we sorted out her books. We love books! and it was hard to get rid of some of them. A book called Some Dog, that I remember holding her on my lap and reading to her, Little Golden books that she would sit and read to me cuddled up close, but it is time for them to go. She reads chapter books now, someone else can use those books, and toys, and dolls. Someone who maybe doesn't have anything.
Emma decided to donate her stuffed animals to the Shelter Home, for children who have had to leave abusive situations, sometimes with only the clothes on their back. Lydia wants to donate her books to the library for the children who can't afford books. We decided to give some dolls and toys to a little girl we know whose family just lost everything in a fire. I had given her a lot of clothes last week, but no toys. We decided toys would be good too. Luckily my girls have never really been brats over what they have, they have never expected things or had an attitude of entitlement, at least outwardly, but they have come to be ungrateful and unappreciative in their hearts. They have forgotten that someone took their time and effort to buy them these things because they are loved and because they care. They have forgotten that there are children the world over that would cherish and love just one doll, or one animal, or one crayon, who would never think about laughing if it broke or became lost.
So far Operation clean-up has been a success. My house is cleaner than it has been in 5 years. As their rooms get cleaner and more organized, my children are starting to enjoy parting with things, and everyone is happier. It is a difficult lesson to learn seeing as how this world and culture we live in tells us more is better, bigger is better and your success is measured by what you own. I am thankful that God has allowed this to be a time of teaching. Teaching our children about what it means to give and think about others needs ahead of our own. Teach them to appreciate what they have and to never take their blessings for granted. That our success comes in loving God, putting others before our selves and growing more like Christ. This is where our abundance should be, not in earthly possessions, in Christ!
“Don’t store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal. Store your treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal.Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be." Matthew 6:19-21
Posted by
Victoria
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I love DIY shows. I love watching people transform the old into the new. I love watching HGTV and DIY network. I love getting ideas, planning, having the vision of what my house should and could look like. There are only two things standing the way of my house being pinned to Pinterest and being featured in Southern Living.
The first one being named Victoria. While I love the idea of DIY, the planning and envisioning the end product, I do not know how to execute the plan. I am a force to be reckoned with during the deconstruction and break down phase of home improvement. For instance at our old house, I got the vision of replacing my carpet with hardwood floors. I thought about how beautiful wood flooring would look throughout the entire front of the house, down the hall, and in the master bedroom. I picked out what I wanted by browsing the web, I measured the square footage. I rationalized that it would be cleaner, allergen free, and easy to maintain, and then one day while Jason was off at work I just decided to rip all the carpet out. By myself.... and throw it on the lawn...with the padding... and all the nails. I used a box cutter to cut around the furniture I couldn't move and voila an hour later or so, the destruction phase was complete. The carpet was gone replaced by the vision of cheap sub flooring and 1970's gold and brown linoleum which was a little surprise I wasn't really expecting and come to find out neither was Jason when he came home. He also wasn't expecting all the carpet gone and laying the front yard...in pieces. Which brings me to the second thing standing in the way of my DIY dreams. Jason.
Jason does not share my vision of home improvement. He is happy with the house looking normal and plain. While I am the dreamer, he is the realist. He is the one who reminds me of budget and the work involved. I like to plan it, but he is the one that has to build it. I demolish, but he has to reconstruct, and he isn't a big fan of that partnership. When I ripped out the carpet, he about had a heart attack because I didn't know that 3 or 4 dollars a square foot would translate into 1000 dollars when we laid it down. I didn't know about things like molding strips and dividers and special saws to cut it. I didn't know about backing and leveling sub floor. I didn't know that 1970's linoleum has asbestos and that it has to be professionally removed by a hazmat team or that it was glued to the sub floor. Three months later after living basically on corkboard and bad linoleum, I finally had wood flooring- laminate wood flooring because that was all the budget could cover on the spur of the moment. Jason had to work overtime to pay for it and my Dad and him rebuilt the sub floor, removed all the carpet fragments and laid all the new floor down themselves. In my defense I cooked for them and made the tea, and I was a great cheerleader of how well they were doing and bragged endlessly on how nice it looked afterward- so see it all worked out in the end ( o.k. kind of)
This is what brings me to today's DIY disaster. I am choosing to blame Pinterest because let's face it, we live in an age of blame and it isn't really my fault that Pinterest made refinishing your bathroom look so easy...and cute. Why buy a new bathroom cabinet, which would be a lot of money and work, when we can just refinish the one we have? I got a vision. I had a brainstorm and this time I let Jason in on it, but it didn't help, or change the outcome. He said it would be work, he said it would be costly, he said it was a ridiculous waste of time, but he knows that once I get the idea, it is a done deal. I ripped the cabinet apart, dismantled the doors and drawers, purchased sanding stuff, paint, primer, tape, brushes, rollers, and stain ( how much was that new cabinet again?) and now as usual, here we are a month later with a dismantled bathroom. The walls are painted, but everything else is a shambles. The cabinet has now been sanded and painted twice. Once it was antique white, but thanks to my lack of a carpentry degree, it had to be completely sanded down and started over. The frame for the mirror is not done, it had to be re- cut...twice. The contents of the drawers and cabinets are in my bedroom. The shower curtain is precariously hung in order to get us by. Jason is a testament to the saying Patience is a virtue. He hasn't said a word as I keep purchasing more paint and sand paper and tape. He patiently asks for a towel since there are no bars up to hang them on. He fishes through our bedroom looking for hairspray and deodorant and he has sanded and sanded and sanded for me since who knew that was such a hard job. Instead of an episode of BATHtastic we are an episode of Renovation Realities. We will get it done- eventually, we always do. It will look cute- eventually. I always make sure of that, but I think in the future I better stick to pinning recipes and hairstyles because Pinterest home improvement ideas just don't work in the Hartman home.
The first one being named Victoria. While I love the idea of DIY, the planning and envisioning the end product, I do not know how to execute the plan. I am a force to be reckoned with during the deconstruction and break down phase of home improvement. For instance at our old house, I got the vision of replacing my carpet with hardwood floors. I thought about how beautiful wood flooring would look throughout the entire front of the house, down the hall, and in the master bedroom. I picked out what I wanted by browsing the web, I measured the square footage. I rationalized that it would be cleaner, allergen free, and easy to maintain, and then one day while Jason was off at work I just decided to rip all the carpet out. By myself.... and throw it on the lawn...with the padding... and all the nails. I used a box cutter to cut around the furniture I couldn't move and voila an hour later or so, the destruction phase was complete. The carpet was gone replaced by the vision of cheap sub flooring and 1970's gold and brown linoleum which was a little surprise I wasn't really expecting and come to find out neither was Jason when he came home. He also wasn't expecting all the carpet gone and laying the front yard...in pieces. Which brings me to the second thing standing in the way of my DIY dreams. Jason.
Jason does not share my vision of home improvement. He is happy with the house looking normal and plain. While I am the dreamer, he is the realist. He is the one who reminds me of budget and the work involved. I like to plan it, but he is the one that has to build it. I demolish, but he has to reconstruct, and he isn't a big fan of that partnership. When I ripped out the carpet, he about had a heart attack because I didn't know that 3 or 4 dollars a square foot would translate into 1000 dollars when we laid it down. I didn't know about things like molding strips and dividers and special saws to cut it. I didn't know about backing and leveling sub floor. I didn't know that 1970's linoleum has asbestos and that it has to be professionally removed by a hazmat team or that it was glued to the sub floor. Three months later after living basically on corkboard and bad linoleum, I finally had wood flooring- laminate wood flooring because that was all the budget could cover on the spur of the moment. Jason had to work overtime to pay for it and my Dad and him rebuilt the sub floor, removed all the carpet fragments and laid all the new floor down themselves. In my defense I cooked for them and made the tea, and I was a great cheerleader of how well they were doing and bragged endlessly on how nice it looked afterward- so see it all worked out in the end ( o.k. kind of)
This is what brings me to today's DIY disaster. I am choosing to blame Pinterest because let's face it, we live in an age of blame and it isn't really my fault that Pinterest made refinishing your bathroom look so easy...and cute. Why buy a new bathroom cabinet, which would be a lot of money and work, when we can just refinish the one we have? I got a vision. I had a brainstorm and this time I let Jason in on it, but it didn't help, or change the outcome. He said it would be work, he said it would be costly, he said it was a ridiculous waste of time, but he knows that once I get the idea, it is a done deal. I ripped the cabinet apart, dismantled the doors and drawers, purchased sanding stuff, paint, primer, tape, brushes, rollers, and stain ( how much was that new cabinet again?) and now as usual, here we are a month later with a dismantled bathroom. The walls are painted, but everything else is a shambles. The cabinet has now been sanded and painted twice. Once it was antique white, but thanks to my lack of a carpentry degree, it had to be completely sanded down and started over. The frame for the mirror is not done, it had to be re- cut...twice. The contents of the drawers and cabinets are in my bedroom. The shower curtain is precariously hung in order to get us by. Jason is a testament to the saying Patience is a virtue. He hasn't said a word as I keep purchasing more paint and sand paper and tape. He patiently asks for a towel since there are no bars up to hang them on. He fishes through our bedroom looking for hairspray and deodorant and he has sanded and sanded and sanded for me since who knew that was such a hard job. Instead of an episode of BATHtastic we are an episode of Renovation Realities. We will get it done- eventually, we always do. It will look cute- eventually. I always make sure of that, but I think in the future I better stick to pinning recipes and hairstyles because Pinterest home improvement ideas just don't work in the Hartman home.
Posted by
Victoria
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Summer is so filled with activity that I sometimes forget to stop and smell the roses, of course I don't literally stop and smell any flowers in the Summer because I hate bugs, but that is beside the point. I started this blog originally to record thoughts and memories for my girls to enjoy later, I need to write something. I have been thinking about what we have done this Summer and what has been going on. I have stopped and reflected and here are a few things I have learned during this Summer vacation.
I have learned that the excitement of school ending lasts about two weeks. I remember the countdown to the last day. Emma so excited about cleaning out her desk and finishing her tests. Lydia checking the calendar everyday to see when it was over and bringing home all of her folders and reading charts. I couldn't wait to sleep in and not have to pack lunches and help with homework. The anticipation of Summer was so thick in the air you could taste it and then it was here. The last hugs from teachers, the principal waving in the parking lot, the buses honking their goodbyes. Two weeks later, reality hit. The girls missed their friends. The weather was humid, hot, and miserable. Bugs buzz and bite. A lot! The realization that the only real playmate they were going to have day in and day out was the Sister they couldn't get along with for more than five minutes at a time only served to dampen the mood. As for me, I learned that whether the alarm is set or not, it isn't going to change the 7am wake up call. Once you have children the fantasy that there will ever be a time when you can sleep uninterrupted until the sun is all the way up in the sky is shattered until the teen years, if it isn't the children waking me up, it is the dog whose internal alarm is not effected by the changing of the seasons. Don't get me wrong, we are having fun. Vacation came and went in a blur, Church activities and play dates have occupied the time. Popsicle snacks and watermelon cookouts with friends and family have been fun, but I have learned that in reality we look forward to school being in as much as we do getting out. Summer could really be about a month long and we could handle it.
I have learned that my children are growing up at an alarming rate. Emma just celebrated her 9th year on this Earth and it is shocking how fast that time has flown. I looked back at photos of her in the hospital and told her the story of her birth and it seemed like yesterday. She has matured so much since last Summer. When I look at her now, I don't see the chubby cheeks, wispy hair and gap toothed grin from last year. She looks older, she acts more mature. She doesn't drag out endless toys and sing silly songs, she reads on her Kindle and sings along to One Direction. She talks on the phone and calls my Mom by herself. She paints her own toes, takes her own showers, and makes her own breakfast. She rolls her eyes and puffs like a teenager when I scold her. She still gets silly and plays with dolls. She still likes picnics and cartoons, but the transition has begun. It is scary and wonderful all at the same time. I praise her when she is independent and mature, but I cringe at the fact that she needs me less and less for the everyday things. I love that she can have a conversation on my level, but I worry about the things I have to talk about with her. Lydia is no longer the baby. She is losing teeth and making toast. She reads magazines and sings pop songs. She watches Good Luck Charlie instead of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. She is wearing clothes her Sister can still wear. Being around them all day everyday has opened my eyes to the changes that have taken place in just one school year. I am thankful for the people they are becoming but afraid of the responsibility that I now have to them, not just to care for their needs, but to shape their character and instill their values. It is more important than ever for me to be a Godly example to them and it is becoming more urgent than ever to plant Christ firmly in their hearts and minds.
I have learned that I sometimes take my husband for granted. I have seen more and more of my friends and family separating and divorcing. The older we get the more statistics catch up with us. Five years ago I only knew a couple of my friends that were split up but now I only know a couple who are still together. I take for granted sometimes how blessed I am. Jason and I are becoming one of the rare ones that are making it despite the numbers and statistics that the world throws at us almost daily. We weren't expected to make it, most people thought we wouldn't make it. When we met, we were young, we were immature, we had totally different lives. I was older, he was younger. I was working, he didn't even have a work permit. I had a new car, he didn't even have a license. I had started a career, he had started high school. I was a "good girl" who rarely broke the rules, made good grades, could count on one hand how many times I had been grounded. He was a "bad boy". He was always breaking the rules, didn't care about school, and had a reputation that worried my family and friends. Everyone thought we were crazy to think we could stay together. A betting person would not have bet on us, but God had other plans. He answers prayer and He changes lives. Here we are 20 years later. We have grown up, grown wiser and grown closer. He is a great husband and a great Father to our girls. He works so hard so I can stay home. He never complains when the house is a mess or the chores didn't get done. He never tells me I can't go anywhere and he watches the girls willingly and without complaint anytime I want or need him to. He goes to school functions, gymnastics and even Brownie outings. He has been on field trips and tea parties. He takes me shopping and takes the girls on dates. He always spends money on us first and him last. He never says anything about the way I look and tells me I am beautiful even when I am in lounging clothes and a ponytail for the 5th day this week. He still surprises me with dates, hugs and kisses me while I am cooking, holds me close when we are watching TV. He loves the Lord and always puts God and his family first. He is quiet and stays in the background and doesn't like attention, but he is my rock and he balances me in a way that no one else ever could. He has been through a lot in his life that he never talks about or shares, but he has always pushed himself to do more than he thinks he can and accomplish more than people ever expect, and he does it quietly without the need for praise. He is the strongest person I know. I have never seen him cry. Ever. (o.k. once, years and years ago, but we won't go there...just so you know, it is possible, he does have feelings, he just doesn't let them out much. He is an expert at hiding them...lol) He has held me up and held me close and when I need him most he is always there. He makes me feel safe and secure and loved. God brought us together for a reason and He has kept us together. God is the key. Love is a choice, and we have to daily choose each other. I rarely tell him thank you for all of this and I take for granted that this is the norm, but I am learning that it most definitely is not and that God has blessed me beyond measure. In the midst of Summer activity, heat and humidity and craziness, I have learned that God is faithful, time is precious and family is love and not an ounce of any of it should be taken for granted.
I have learned that the excitement of school ending lasts about two weeks. I remember the countdown to the last day. Emma so excited about cleaning out her desk and finishing her tests. Lydia checking the calendar everyday to see when it was over and bringing home all of her folders and reading charts. I couldn't wait to sleep in and not have to pack lunches and help with homework. The anticipation of Summer was so thick in the air you could taste it and then it was here. The last hugs from teachers, the principal waving in the parking lot, the buses honking their goodbyes. Two weeks later, reality hit. The girls missed their friends. The weather was humid, hot, and miserable. Bugs buzz and bite. A lot! The realization that the only real playmate they were going to have day in and day out was the Sister they couldn't get along with for more than five minutes at a time only served to dampen the mood. As for me, I learned that whether the alarm is set or not, it isn't going to change the 7am wake up call. Once you have children the fantasy that there will ever be a time when you can sleep uninterrupted until the sun is all the way up in the sky is shattered until the teen years, if it isn't the children waking me up, it is the dog whose internal alarm is not effected by the changing of the seasons. Don't get me wrong, we are having fun. Vacation came and went in a blur, Church activities and play dates have occupied the time. Popsicle snacks and watermelon cookouts with friends and family have been fun, but I have learned that in reality we look forward to school being in as much as we do getting out. Summer could really be about a month long and we could handle it.
I have learned that my children are growing up at an alarming rate. Emma just celebrated her 9th year on this Earth and it is shocking how fast that time has flown. I looked back at photos of her in the hospital and told her the story of her birth and it seemed like yesterday. She has matured so much since last Summer. When I look at her now, I don't see the chubby cheeks, wispy hair and gap toothed grin from last year. She looks older, she acts more mature. She doesn't drag out endless toys and sing silly songs, she reads on her Kindle and sings along to One Direction. She talks on the phone and calls my Mom by herself. She paints her own toes, takes her own showers, and makes her own breakfast. She rolls her eyes and puffs like a teenager when I scold her. She still gets silly and plays with dolls. She still likes picnics and cartoons, but the transition has begun. It is scary and wonderful all at the same time. I praise her when she is independent and mature, but I cringe at the fact that she needs me less and less for the everyday things. I love that she can have a conversation on my level, but I worry about the things I have to talk about with her. Lydia is no longer the baby. She is losing teeth and making toast. She reads magazines and sings pop songs. She watches Good Luck Charlie instead of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. She is wearing clothes her Sister can still wear. Being around them all day everyday has opened my eyes to the changes that have taken place in just one school year. I am thankful for the people they are becoming but afraid of the responsibility that I now have to them, not just to care for their needs, but to shape their character and instill their values. It is more important than ever for me to be a Godly example to them and it is becoming more urgent than ever to plant Christ firmly in their hearts and minds.
I have learned that I sometimes take my husband for granted. I have seen more and more of my friends and family separating and divorcing. The older we get the more statistics catch up with us. Five years ago I only knew a couple of my friends that were split up but now I only know a couple who are still together. I take for granted sometimes how blessed I am. Jason and I are becoming one of the rare ones that are making it despite the numbers and statistics that the world throws at us almost daily. We weren't expected to make it, most people thought we wouldn't make it. When we met, we were young, we were immature, we had totally different lives. I was older, he was younger. I was working, he didn't even have a work permit. I had a new car, he didn't even have a license. I had started a career, he had started high school. I was a "good girl" who rarely broke the rules, made good grades, could count on one hand how many times I had been grounded. He was a "bad boy". He was always breaking the rules, didn't care about school, and had a reputation that worried my family and friends. Everyone thought we were crazy to think we could stay together. A betting person would not have bet on us, but God had other plans. He answers prayer and He changes lives. Here we are 20 years later. We have grown up, grown wiser and grown closer. He is a great husband and a great Father to our girls. He works so hard so I can stay home. He never complains when the house is a mess or the chores didn't get done. He never tells me I can't go anywhere and he watches the girls willingly and without complaint anytime I want or need him to. He goes to school functions, gymnastics and even Brownie outings. He has been on field trips and tea parties. He takes me shopping and takes the girls on dates. He always spends money on us first and him last. He never says anything about the way I look and tells me I am beautiful even when I am in lounging clothes and a ponytail for the 5th day this week. He still surprises me with dates, hugs and kisses me while I am cooking, holds me close when we are watching TV. He loves the Lord and always puts God and his family first. He is quiet and stays in the background and doesn't like attention, but he is my rock and he balances me in a way that no one else ever could. He has been through a lot in his life that he never talks about or shares, but he has always pushed himself to do more than he thinks he can and accomplish more than people ever expect, and he does it quietly without the need for praise. He is the strongest person I know. I have never seen him cry. Ever. (o.k. once, years and years ago, but we won't go there...just so you know, it is possible, he does have feelings, he just doesn't let them out much. He is an expert at hiding them...lol) He has held me up and held me close and when I need him most he is always there. He makes me feel safe and secure and loved. God brought us together for a reason and He has kept us together. God is the key. Love is a choice, and we have to daily choose each other. I rarely tell him thank you for all of this and I take for granted that this is the norm, but I am learning that it most definitely is not and that God has blessed me beyond measure. In the midst of Summer activity, heat and humidity and craziness, I have learned that God is faithful, time is precious and family is love and not an ounce of any of it should be taken for granted.
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Victoria
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Sometimes the strangest things get me thinking and analyzing my life. This week all it took was a simple statement by my youngest daughter " I am glad that you and Daddy never fight." My first thought was Yes, we do! but after I thought for a minute, I realized that while we do disagree and we have days where we are grumpy with each other, she is right, she probably hasn't ever seen us "fight" ( and by fight I mean argue, not physically fight!), and that made me unhappy. I know it sounds crazy, but I have really thought about that a lot this week. Why? Because I don't want my children to live in the fantasy that every marriage is perfect and that we always get along. How will they know how to deal with conflict and how will they know that things can and do get worked out? The world we live in teaches that if you're unhappy or you can't agree just split up and move on. Our world teaches that love is a feeling and that it should come easy and you shouldn't have to work to maintain it. Divorce is a 50/50 thing. The world teaches that it is easier to cut your losses and move on than it is to work for it, fight for it, change. I truly believe that sometimes divorce is the only option, and that it is the only answer in some cases. I want my girls to know that they should not tolerate abuse. EVER! Either physical, mental or verbal. I want them to know that in some cases there is no other answer but to part ways, but for the day to day stuff, the I don't think I like you right now stuff, I want my girls to know that it can be done. That just because you disagree or just because you raise your voice doesn't mean that it is over. This is what bothered me about her statement, I need them to know that life is not all roses and sweetness, and that there will be arguments, there will be disagreements, there will be days when love requires work and solutions mean compromise. I want them to know that just because you don't like someone right this minute doesn't mean that you don't love them. forever.
Jason and I have been together for a long time. In a sense, we have grown up together, and it has not always been easy. We dated five years before we got married. I came from a family that worked things out, my parents have always been married. I saw them fight occasionally. I saw them yell and fuss. I remember my Mom telling me that it was healthy to "clear the air" once in a while and that it was good to "let things out". I also remember them always working it out, not always easy, not always the way each of them would like, but always together. Jason, not quite the same upbringing. He saw lots of things too, but not always good things. His household was the complete opposite of mine. When we were dating, he had a quick temper, and I had a quick mouth. I knew he had a hard time controlling his temper, and yet I would push him right to the limit. I was hard headed and stubborn and rarely said I was sorry. He would throw things and punch things, but thank God he was always able to know when to leave, walk away and cool down, most of the time no thanks to me. I would get pulled into his temper and that made for some crazy moments that aren't worth sharing. We struggled through a lot of issues that he was dealing with and a lot of mess we brought on ourselves, but we made it and I decided that I would make changes before we got married, and we did... kind of.
When we got married, neither of us had ever lived out on our own. We had never had to manage finances or run a home. I came from a fairly strict household, with rules and curfews and expectations. He came from a household where he had done exactly what he wanted for a long time, no rules, no curfews, no expectations. It took a while for us to figure out a balance in those two things, and while we didn't argue near as much after we were married, we still had lots of things to work out. Our fights took on a different tone. I discovered that even when we don't choose to blame our upbringing for our weaknesses and even if we strive to rise above family issues, the reality is our upbringing shapes who we are, and with that can come a lot of things that shape our thoughts and our ideas. Our experiences and our parent's examples are ingrained in us and become a part of us, both the good and the bad. I really think that Jason believed every time we disagreed that I was leaving. He would act surprised to come home and still find a household and a wife there. I think he had low expectations for a lasting marriage. I think I believed that I was always right and that I was going to make him see things my way at any cost, and that he had seen what not to do, so he should just know what he should do. I think I had too many expectations for a lasting marriage. I needed to remember what I had been taught and how my parents worked out their problems. I needed to remember how they "cleared the air", how they prayed, how they chose to love, even when it was hard.
Life really changed for me when someone gave me the book The Power of a Praying Wife by Stormie O'Martian. I read that book reluctantly, but it completely changed the way I thought. The book teaches you how to pray for your husband, not just a passing prayer, but how to pray over every part of him, from the little mundane things to the deep inner parts. I began to practice the lessons in that book. I prayed for him like never before. I realized through that process that I am only responsible to change me. I can pray for him, but I can only change me. I began to pray that God would open my eyes to what I needed to change about myself. I learned that love is not just a feeling, love is a choice, love is work! Hard work sometimes, but with the work and through the choice comes the feeling. The feeling of love is the product of all the work. JOY- Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last. I needed to put God at the beginning, Jason next and myself last. I needed to practice in my heart what I knew in my head.
Now here we are, and according to Lydia's statement, we have come a long way. Jason and I know each other, inside and out. We know how each other works, we know what our strengths are and what are weaknesses are. She is right, we hardly ever really argue. He still has things that he struggles with and I still have things I struggle with. We still have things that we disagree about and little things that annoy us about each other at times, but we are older and wiser... and tired. We have learned to put God first and each other second. We have learned to pray through our troubles. I have learned that it is o.k. to be humble, say I am sorry, close my mouth. Jason has learned that it is possible to simply clear the air, let it out and move on. Love doesn't have to mean war. Marriage can be fun and happy, and yes, you can "feel" love, everyday and forever. I want my girls to see that lesson as well. I want them to see us disagree, raise our voices, and show weakness. They need to see their Mommy cry ( every now and then) so that they know it will be o.k., it isn't the end. They need to see us pray and say I am Sorry and ask forgiveness and compromise. They need to see that there are healthy ways to disagree, that everyone has bad days and everyone gets angry sometimes, but it is about talking, working it out, and moving on. They need to see what real love looks like, both the good and the bad. Every problem does not have to lead to divorce, sometimes you just have to clear the air to find fresh love!
Jason and I have been together for a long time. In a sense, we have grown up together, and it has not always been easy. We dated five years before we got married. I came from a family that worked things out, my parents have always been married. I saw them fight occasionally. I saw them yell and fuss. I remember my Mom telling me that it was healthy to "clear the air" once in a while and that it was good to "let things out". I also remember them always working it out, not always easy, not always the way each of them would like, but always together. Jason, not quite the same upbringing. He saw lots of things too, but not always good things. His household was the complete opposite of mine. When we were dating, he had a quick temper, and I had a quick mouth. I knew he had a hard time controlling his temper, and yet I would push him right to the limit. I was hard headed and stubborn and rarely said I was sorry. He would throw things and punch things, but thank God he was always able to know when to leave, walk away and cool down, most of the time no thanks to me. I would get pulled into his temper and that made for some crazy moments that aren't worth sharing. We struggled through a lot of issues that he was dealing with and a lot of mess we brought on ourselves, but we made it and I decided that I would make changes before we got married, and we did... kind of.
When we got married, neither of us had ever lived out on our own. We had never had to manage finances or run a home. I came from a fairly strict household, with rules and curfews and expectations. He came from a household where he had done exactly what he wanted for a long time, no rules, no curfews, no expectations. It took a while for us to figure out a balance in those two things, and while we didn't argue near as much after we were married, we still had lots of things to work out. Our fights took on a different tone. I discovered that even when we don't choose to blame our upbringing for our weaknesses and even if we strive to rise above family issues, the reality is our upbringing shapes who we are, and with that can come a lot of things that shape our thoughts and our ideas. Our experiences and our parent's examples are ingrained in us and become a part of us, both the good and the bad. I really think that Jason believed every time we disagreed that I was leaving. He would act surprised to come home and still find a household and a wife there. I think he had low expectations for a lasting marriage. I think I believed that I was always right and that I was going to make him see things my way at any cost, and that he had seen what not to do, so he should just know what he should do. I think I had too many expectations for a lasting marriage. I needed to remember what I had been taught and how my parents worked out their problems. I needed to remember how they "cleared the air", how they prayed, how they chose to love, even when it was hard.
Life really changed for me when someone gave me the book The Power of a Praying Wife by Stormie O'Martian. I read that book reluctantly, but it completely changed the way I thought. The book teaches you how to pray for your husband, not just a passing prayer, but how to pray over every part of him, from the little mundane things to the deep inner parts. I began to practice the lessons in that book. I prayed for him like never before. I realized through that process that I am only responsible to change me. I can pray for him, but I can only change me. I began to pray that God would open my eyes to what I needed to change about myself. I learned that love is not just a feeling, love is a choice, love is work! Hard work sometimes, but with the work and through the choice comes the feeling. The feeling of love is the product of all the work. JOY- Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last. I needed to put God at the beginning, Jason next and myself last. I needed to practice in my heart what I knew in my head.
Now here we are, and according to Lydia's statement, we have come a long way. Jason and I know each other, inside and out. We know how each other works, we know what our strengths are and what are weaknesses are. She is right, we hardly ever really argue. He still has things that he struggles with and I still have things I struggle with. We still have things that we disagree about and little things that annoy us about each other at times, but we are older and wiser... and tired. We have learned to put God first and each other second. We have learned to pray through our troubles. I have learned that it is o.k. to be humble, say I am sorry, close my mouth. Jason has learned that it is possible to simply clear the air, let it out and move on. Love doesn't have to mean war. Marriage can be fun and happy, and yes, you can "feel" love, everyday and forever. I want my girls to see that lesson as well. I want them to see us disagree, raise our voices, and show weakness. They need to see their Mommy cry ( every now and then) so that they know it will be o.k., it isn't the end. They need to see us pray and say I am Sorry and ask forgiveness and compromise. They need to see that there are healthy ways to disagree, that everyone has bad days and everyone gets angry sometimes, but it is about talking, working it out, and moving on. They need to see what real love looks like, both the good and the bad. Every problem does not have to lead to divorce, sometimes you just have to clear the air to find fresh love!
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Victoria
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I always intended to have children while I was young. My Mom had me when she was 30 after years of trying and for the early 70's that was considered old for having a baby. All of her friends had teenagers when I was still in elementary school. There were very few children among my parent's circle of friends that were even close to my age. My cousins were so much older than me I called them uncle. I always said I wanted to be a young Mom. When Jason and I got married, I had just turned 23 and he was only a couple of months into being 20 so it appeared my plan for being a young Mom was right on track. We waited for a few months and then I decided to go off of birth control and what would be, would be. I never dreamed that what would be would take 8 more years, but God's plan is sometimes not our plan. As the years went by I watched my friends having babies, I watched my clients having babies, I watched children I babysat having babies. I got tired of people asking when we were going to have one of our own. The doctors didn't know why I wasn't pregnant, they had theories, but they had no evidence to back them up. Everything tested fine, everything appeared fine. Just nothing. I was offered fertility options, but was nervous of the side effects, unsure if they were safe, afraid of outcomes like I saw on TV. I did not want to be pregnant with multiples. I prayed about it and we decided that if God saw fit to bless us then great, but if not, then that was His plan. We looked into adoption, we looked into Foster care, we began to save money for overseas adoption. The years continued to tick by....
God's ways are not our ways and His plans are not our plans. 8 years later and the unexpected happened, I became pregnant. I was so shocked that when the Doctor told me it was true I still didn't believe him. I thought it was a mistake. I took the whole box of pregnancy tests- all three of them and still didn't believe it. "Miracles do happen", those were the words of my Doctor, who called it a fluke, after I miscarried the first pregnancy at 14 weeks and became pregnant again just three and a half months later. They had no explanation, they didn't even have a theory for that one. Now here we are 8 years and two beautiful healthy daughters later, and I am still amazed by the timing of God. I am my Mother's daughter, I followed in her footsteps in so many ways including having my children in my 30's. I never would have imagined it, I never would have planned it, but it has become the biggest blessing that God has given me. Thanks to those 8 years without children, Jason and I were able to grow up together, without the stress of raising children. We traveled, we furnished our home, we bought a house. Jason had moved up in his company to the point that he could support us without my income. We had 8 years to bond and live and grow closer and closer to each other, and I would not trade that time for anything. Yes, I am more tired than my friend's who have endless amounts of energy for their little ones. I sometimes think I am not as laid back because of my age. I have gray streaks instead of fun blue and pink streaks, and I am not current on pop culture. I don't text or have an Iphone. I sometimes feel old when I see friend I grew up with children heading out to college and driving and graduating high school while I am buying a little mini cap and gown to watch mine graduate Kindergarten. All those things my Mom struggled through as a Mom are now my struggles as well, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.
I think there are advantages to being an older Mom. I think about the views I had and the life I lived when I was in my 20's and I know that I would not have the children I have today if I would have raised them then. I am closer to God now than ever before and I understand what values and morals I want to instill in them. Jason and I have changed so much in the last decade, we understand each other, our love is so much deeper. We are more mellow, we are faster to love and slower to fight. We have worked out our differences and we are more one now than ever before which helps us be better parents. I appreciate the little moments more as an older Mom. I had to be patient and go through a lot to have them and I don't want to take a single moment for granted. God's timing is perfect and He knew when we would should be parents even before we did and I am thankful for His Grace and His mercy and His perfect planning. Mother's Day was a wonderful reminder of just how far He has brought us and how much He has blessed us and I wouldn't trade a single minute of it, even if I am one of the oldest Moms in the kindergarten PTO.
God's ways are not our ways and His plans are not our plans. 8 years later and the unexpected happened, I became pregnant. I was so shocked that when the Doctor told me it was true I still didn't believe him. I thought it was a mistake. I took the whole box of pregnancy tests- all three of them and still didn't believe it. "Miracles do happen", those were the words of my Doctor, who called it a fluke, after I miscarried the first pregnancy at 14 weeks and became pregnant again just three and a half months later. They had no explanation, they didn't even have a theory for that one. Now here we are 8 years and two beautiful healthy daughters later, and I am still amazed by the timing of God. I am my Mother's daughter, I followed in her footsteps in so many ways including having my children in my 30's. I never would have imagined it, I never would have planned it, but it has become the biggest blessing that God has given me. Thanks to those 8 years without children, Jason and I were able to grow up together, without the stress of raising children. We traveled, we furnished our home, we bought a house. Jason had moved up in his company to the point that he could support us without my income. We had 8 years to bond and live and grow closer and closer to each other, and I would not trade that time for anything. Yes, I am more tired than my friend's who have endless amounts of energy for their little ones. I sometimes think I am not as laid back because of my age. I have gray streaks instead of fun blue and pink streaks, and I am not current on pop culture. I don't text or have an Iphone. I sometimes feel old when I see friend I grew up with children heading out to college and driving and graduating high school while I am buying a little mini cap and gown to watch mine graduate Kindergarten. All those things my Mom struggled through as a Mom are now my struggles as well, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.
I think there are advantages to being an older Mom. I think about the views I had and the life I lived when I was in my 20's and I know that I would not have the children I have today if I would have raised them then. I am closer to God now than ever before and I understand what values and morals I want to instill in them. Jason and I have changed so much in the last decade, we understand each other, our love is so much deeper. We are more mellow, we are faster to love and slower to fight. We have worked out our differences and we are more one now than ever before which helps us be better parents. I appreciate the little moments more as an older Mom. I had to be patient and go through a lot to have them and I don't want to take a single moment for granted. God's timing is perfect and He knew when we would should be parents even before we did and I am thankful for His Grace and His mercy and His perfect planning. Mother's Day was a wonderful reminder of just how far He has brought us and how much He has blessed us and I wouldn't trade a single minute of it, even if I am one of the oldest Moms in the kindergarten PTO.
Posted by
Victoria
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Rain, rain go away... as I look out the window at another gray, foggy, drippy day I am reminded that April showers are supposed to bring May flowers, although right now they only seem to be bringing mud, weeds and mold. I am not a Spring girl, I am a Fall/Winter girl. I like fuzzy clothes, warm blankets, big coats, hot cider, the smell of wood smoke in the air. I do not like mud puddles, humidity, dandelion flowers, and bugs. I have to struggle through Spring. I am not a spotless housekeeper so my Spring cleaning takes most of the season and by the time I finish, the things I started with usually need done again. I am not an experienced gardener, but living in a neighborhood with small yards and very neat neighbors insures that I do my part to keep weeds pulled, flowers pruned and mulch fresh. I have grumbled for the past several weeks about allergies, and pollen and hotness, and sweat, and then I see posts on Facebook about Cicada's...ewww! Grumble, grumble, I hate Spring, but then this morning I opened my Bible randomly (which I do sometimes) just let it open to a page and began to read...
Song of Solomon 2: 11-13
See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me.”
Yes, God has His own ways of speaking to us if we are listening, don't ever doubt that He works in mysterious ways. I am not sure I have ever even really read Song of Solomon...ever! When I read this passage I got the most beautiful picture in my head of birds chirping and trees blooming out and of course it is hard to grumble at a love story... God created seasons and He did it for a reason, everything has a purpose. God is intentional. Instead of complaining and counting down the weeks until what I like comes back around, I need to focus on what God wants me to see right now, in this season. I need to learn to love Spring.
North Carolina has four very distinct seasons. We are lucky to live in a place that experiences each season separately. Living in the mountains, they are even more unique and I have learned to appreciate Spring a little more since living here. There is a reason that Winter is not the peak tourist season in the NC mountain region. Yes, the mountains are beautiful when they are covered in a bright white, pure, snowfall and you are skiing down the slopes, but just day to day Winter without the blanket of white is drab to say the least. The mountains loom up all around you into the horizon, dark and gray. The wind is brutal and the cold is never ending. The fog is daily, it rolls in like a blanket at night and hangs out until mid-morning, everyday! Gray and thick. The trees are barren and all of a sudden you see houses and shacks and caves that you never knew were there. ( the old saying the hills have eyes is true, you don't know all the people hiding in the hills until the leaves drop off the trees) The roads are covered in salt and sand, the rocks are wet and dripping and everything is dead, which makes the switch to Spring that much more amazing. Just in the last couple of weeks, the flowers have bloomed out, the trees are covered in blossoms and birds are everywhere. There are lots of flowering trees in the mountains, purple and white, dogwoods and cherry. We wake up to a constant chirping song, birds are everywhere. The mountains begin to fill out and become lush and green again. The girls begin to bring me beautiful purple blossoms and it is even hard to grumble about the Dandelions I hate when they are being tucked behind my ear with a kiss on the cheek from one of my girls. I love to plant vegetables and fruit so Spring comes with the smell of fresh tilled earth and the promise of homegrown food on our table and grill. Warm weather means trips to the park and picnics in the grass, rocking on the front porch and neighbors waving Hi and stopping to chat. Here in the south, warm weather brings out flip flops and jugs of sweet tea, it means a time of refreshing... "He makes all things new". God uses Spring to remind me that after the dead of Winter comes the newness of life. The girls marvel at the newborn calves at the farm on the way to school and try and peek into the nests that pop up in our trees. Even on a rainy day like today I am reminded that life moves on and springs forth, that all things are fresh again. In the midst of chaos and the evil of sin and death that surround us on this Earth, God reminds me that in Him all things are made new, His love never fails, and with new life and a new season, comes hope!
Song of Solomon 2: 11-13
See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land. The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me.”
Yes, God has His own ways of speaking to us if we are listening, don't ever doubt that He works in mysterious ways. I am not sure I have ever even really read Song of Solomon...ever! When I read this passage I got the most beautiful picture in my head of birds chirping and trees blooming out and of course it is hard to grumble at a love story... God created seasons and He did it for a reason, everything has a purpose. God is intentional. Instead of complaining and counting down the weeks until what I like comes back around, I need to focus on what God wants me to see right now, in this season. I need to learn to love Spring.
North Carolina has four very distinct seasons. We are lucky to live in a place that experiences each season separately. Living in the mountains, they are even more unique and I have learned to appreciate Spring a little more since living here. There is a reason that Winter is not the peak tourist season in the NC mountain region. Yes, the mountains are beautiful when they are covered in a bright white, pure, snowfall and you are skiing down the slopes, but just day to day Winter without the blanket of white is drab to say the least. The mountains loom up all around you into the horizon, dark and gray. The wind is brutal and the cold is never ending. The fog is daily, it rolls in like a blanket at night and hangs out until mid-morning, everyday! Gray and thick. The trees are barren and all of a sudden you see houses and shacks and caves that you never knew were there. ( the old saying the hills have eyes is true, you don't know all the people hiding in the hills until the leaves drop off the trees) The roads are covered in salt and sand, the rocks are wet and dripping and everything is dead, which makes the switch to Spring that much more amazing. Just in the last couple of weeks, the flowers have bloomed out, the trees are covered in blossoms and birds are everywhere. There are lots of flowering trees in the mountains, purple and white, dogwoods and cherry. We wake up to a constant chirping song, birds are everywhere. The mountains begin to fill out and become lush and green again. The girls begin to bring me beautiful purple blossoms and it is even hard to grumble about the Dandelions I hate when they are being tucked behind my ear with a kiss on the cheek from one of my girls. I love to plant vegetables and fruit so Spring comes with the smell of fresh tilled earth and the promise of homegrown food on our table and grill. Warm weather means trips to the park and picnics in the grass, rocking on the front porch and neighbors waving Hi and stopping to chat. Here in the south, warm weather brings out flip flops and jugs of sweet tea, it means a time of refreshing... "He makes all things new". God uses Spring to remind me that after the dead of Winter comes the newness of life. The girls marvel at the newborn calves at the farm on the way to school and try and peek into the nests that pop up in our trees. Even on a rainy day like today I am reminded that life moves on and springs forth, that all things are fresh again. In the midst of chaos and the evil of sin and death that surround us on this Earth, God reminds me that in Him all things are made new, His love never fails, and with new life and a new season, comes hope!
