Crutch or Battle?

I thought I'd throw in a random post for the week on some things I've been wrestling over in my mind.

 I don't like to use the term single mom, because I don't want to look like I'm using it as a crutch.  I don't want it to be my "get out of jail free" card when I refer to myself as a single mom. I put a lot of responsibility on myself to still be the parent that my kids need.. even if I have to do it alone. 

But I also feel like there are certain things that I will never be able to do well with my children because I am a single mom. This week I have been determined to cook more often, have the boys brush their teach more often, pray more often with my kids, go to bed earlier...etc. 

I struggled because ALL of those things are very hard to do on my own as a parent. (Seriously, even just having your kids brush their teeth you ask.... Yes! Even remembering to have them brush their teeth). I could just cut myself some slack and say that its ok. I don't have to cook... we don't have pray together... my kids don't have to brush their teeth (their going to fall out anyway right ;)... 

But then I think, no... I have to keep trying. I can't give up cooking and go out to eat every night.. that would be expensive and foolish... I can't stop praying with them... God has called me to reflect Him to my boys... and I can't give up brushing teeth... because eventually those permanent teeth are going to come in, and they might fall out too :P

So what's the balance? I remembered today something one of my professor's said last semester regarding his weight. He said he thought he was doing ok as long as it was still a battle for him. It would be a problem in his life when he quit trying to fight that particular battle. I thought that could be a great application to single parents. 

Things are going to be hard... and messy... and we are going to fail... A LOT... but its ok as long as we don't give up. We have to stay in the battle and not throw in the towel because we are single moms. We have to keep getting back up.. over and over again. We are doing ok... as long as we don't stay down. 

The Younger Years

My cousin Becca (my awana buddy) and I together at Disney

A couple of weeks ago I was ready to start moving forward with my new theme for my blog "Your Life Story". To be honest I'm a little overwhelmed by the topic now! I have to be careful about what I post and what is appropriate for all to see. So as I ponder through this I thought I'd start with a story a little more lighthearted to give you a glimpse of me during my early years.

Growing up I was.. hmmm... what's the word... awkward. I was a skinny lanky girl covered in freckles with a thick head of curly red hair. I just wanted to be like everyone else. I was constantly trying to play it safe, never taking risks, trying to just blend in. Every Sunday night I went to Awana at my church. I hated Awana. I could never remember to wear my vest, always forgot my 50 cent dues, did not memorize as many verses as everyone else, and was awful at the game time. Eventually I purposefully "forgot" my vest out of defiance... I bet that showed them :) For those of you who are familiar with Awana know that there are frequent theme nights. One week at Awana while announcements were being made, Cowboy night was announced and we were encouraged to dress up like Cowboys and Cowgirls with a prize given to the best dressed clubber. My little Awana heart was suddenly awakened. I could actually win this one... I definitely could never win a verse quiz or any of their athletic games... but Cowboy night.... (You see my little brother was currently going through a Cowboy phase and had the whole Cowboy get up) BUT was I willing to really put myself out there... was I willing to really stick out? Yes, I nervously decided. I would take a risk and go.all.out.

The next week I dug through my brother's toy box. I found toy guns complete with their holsters, a cowboy shirt, a fringe vest, a sheriff's badge (not really cowboy, but it made me think cowboy), and a plastic cowboy hat. I looked ridiculous... I wasn't wearing "real" cowboy clothes, but rather looked like a toddler who was playing dress up (not cool for a 4th grader). BUT I knew I could win best dressed in this outfit, so I kept everything on.

We were driving closer to the church and I was suddenly terrified to get out of the car. I think my mom was just as scared for me as I was. We just sat there in the car in front of the church and she said "Are you sure its tonight?" Thanks mom for the encouraging pep talk :P I decided I was just going to do it. I was just going to walk right in.

As I was walking into the gym I noticed the kids walking in with me were not wearing cowboy clothes. I started to hyperventilate, but reassured myself that they were just playing it safe, like I would have, and this is a good thing because I now had a better shot at winning. I kept walking to the gym.... and in horror realized I was the only one dressed up. My cousin (who made Awana worth going to) ran over to me dying laughing and told me Cowboy Night was NEXT week. I was MORTIFIED!

I think this story brings a good visual and understanding to what little Christina was like :) I did not have a relationship with Christ yet and my life goal was to fit it. You will see how this impacted me later during my teen years..

Your Story

I'm wanting to make my blog a bit more specific, so I thought I'd hone in on a topic that I am very passionate about... (drum roll)... our life stories.  I became passionate about this topic a few years ago when I listened to a conference from Dan Allender about this topic. (Ladies who went of the ladies retreat a couple of years ago have heard all about this :) During that time I felt like I was in a place without hope. My vision for my life ever since high school was to be in the ministry. That was all I ever wanted to do with my life and it was devastating for me to give that up. I continued to settle for lesser desired dreams for my future and eventually I was in a place with no more dreams, simply longing for heaven. 

It was during this time that I heard a message about my life story. It completely changed my perspective about my life. I had previously read verses like Jeremiah 29:11 that states:

¹¹ For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

I knew that the Lord had a plan for my life in my head... but I did not feel it in my heart. I felt like my past and present circumstances were a big mess and I was still waiting for my story to begin. Finally I truly believed that God was writing my life story... and He is good... therefore my story was good. What glorious freedom and joy I felt at that moment! After a few months of meditating over this fact, I not only came to grips with my story... but I also loved my story. As I began to study and read my story I began to see Him working in parts I had never noticed before. I would be lying if I said that I saw Him in every event of my life. There were some events that I was still confused about, but I had a new trust that God had a reason and plan for even those events I couldn't make sense of on my own.

I'm hoping to through some of my story and maybe have some "guests" come and share their stories in the future. I'll end with a couple of questions for you...

1. Have you gone through and read your own story? Many of us enjoy reading other's stories (reality tv, magazines, novels), but we spend most of our life trying to forget our own story. 

2. Do you love your story? You cannot tell your story until you love your story. 

3. Have you told your story? Sometimes we can't see the beauty of our story on our own. We need others to read it and help us interpret it. We need them to become our mirror and show us themes and facts we had never noticed before. 

*Each of our stories reveal a different aspect of God, which is why He gives each of us different stories. Have you thought about what God is trying reveal about Himself through your story?

journaling

Today I went through one of my journals. I only journal when I can't work out problems in my head and use it as a time to sort out my thought and cry out the Lord for help.. or at times cry out to Him in thankfulness. I have about 4 different journals and when I decide to write I just grab the nearest journal. So this particular journal I pulled out started with a praise to the Lord for what He had done for me... then the next article was a few years later and I was at rock bottom asking God why. It made me laugh to myself bc if you didn't notice the dates, you would seriously think I was bipolar! 

Reading through the writings brought some flashbacks to the different seasons in my life. I wanted to knock some sense into the younger me who continually wrote about some of the same struggles. At times I was also able to see some growth in me. I realized that growth is usually gradual... sometimes we don't even realize it until we remember ourselves a few years ago. But overall, I realized that there was nothing really great that I had done. Yes, there was some growth, but usually that growth resulted from God's direct intervention in my life. I thought about how when we share our testimonies, we often omit our sinfulness. Or if we share our sinfulness it is quickly followed by "but I repented from my sins and I was able to conquer those previous struggles... and YOU can be as great as ME if you do what I did!" But honestly, It is only by God's grace that we are free from our strongholds of sin. Really, what brings God more glory... stating our accomplishments, or stating God's intervention and grace when we couldn't get up on our own. 

After going through my journal I resolved to be more honest about my story and keep my focus not on my accomplishments, but on the greatness of God. I guess you could say that is my New Year's resolution ;)

Fear

The past couple of weeks I've been trying to get my game plan together for my future. I have been terrified to make a decision. I do not like setting the direction of my family because I am scared that I am going to fail. I am the type of person that wants others to make decisions for me and tell me what to do. I think I do that just to ensure that I, on my own, will not fail. You see, technically, if the decision I've made based off of what someone has told me to do doesn't work out, I really haven't failed. It wasn't really my decision in the first place. 

I just don't believe that I am wise enough to make important decisions for my family. I am terrified that I will pursue the wrong career and will not be able to provide for my boys. I keep going back to a time period when things looked VERY bleak for us. I thought I was going to have to get a full time job... which would probably pay very little.. which meant that Kydon would have to go to a daycare that accepted government vouchers, and the older boys would have to switch school once again. That's bleak right?! I was an emotional mess during that time, but guess what... God came through for us. He has ALWAYS come through for us! Yes, I have had some "scares", but each and every time He came through... even if it was at the last minute.

It makes me think about when the Israelites crossed the Red Sea. God did not tell them, "Listen, I'm going to take care of you. Don't worry about getting across the Red Sea. I've got that taken care of." Its not like they were running from the Egyptians and could see the Red Sea parting from a distance as they began to get closer. There was a moment when they stood there right on the shore, trapped between the sea and the Egyptians. What a scary moment right?! But God came through for them and so graciously delivered them. It was part of His plan all along! And guess what? It is part of His plan for me too! I need to listen to Moses' words he gave to the Israelites..

"... Do not fear! Stand by and see the salvation of the Lord which He will accomplish for you today.."

So I conclude this post with assurance that I can make decisions because I have the Holy Sprit in me, guiding and directing me... and He can be trusted. Yes, I would love to see His planner for the year He has on file for my family, but He asks me to trust him today. 

My name is Christina... and I am girly

This post contains some thoughts and musings that have been going through my head for a while now. As far back as I can remember, I have loved to dress up. My mom would make me the prettiest frilliest dresses and I couldn't wait for Sunday to come so I could wear one of them to church. I have early memories from when I was 5 walking down the hallway at church to go to my class and all the adults would tell me how pretty I looked in my handmade outfits. I ate it up :) I also remember thinking that 14 was the golden age. Most kids can't wait to turn 16 so they can drive. What was so magical about turning 14 you ask? That was the age I was allowed to wear makeup... blue, purple, green, pink, sparkling eyeshadows and pink, red, violet lipsticks, eyeliner, mascara, blush... the sky was the limit at age 14. You see before then it was just that clear mascara that made you look like you were almost wearing makeup.

Modeling my new Christmas present

and modeling another dress

wearing one of the dresses my mom made for me

I think this picture is pretty self explanatory

So this was me. 100% girly. The type of girl you never had to force to wear a dress! So then I started school. Occasionally I would dress up for school and wear one of my favorite dresses. Some of the little girls started asking me why liked to wear dresses. I started to get embarrassed about dressing up and made a point to dress down for school. One day I got made fun of for bringing my purse to school, so I quite carrying a purse as well. From that point on I feel like I suppressed the girl inside of me and tried to tell myself that "dressing up" was silly and shallow.

I was still always paranoid about over dressing. Most women have a fear of being underdressed for a nice event... mine was the complete opposite. About 5 years ago, one of the churches I was attending had a Valentines Banquet. I was so excited because I finally got to get dressed up. I wore my black lacy sparkly dress for this Hawaiian themed banquet. I walked into the fellowship hall and the pastor had on a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Seriously

So this bring me to the present. I have decided that I love to dress up and that is ok. Yes, I still wear dresses to my college classes even though we are allowed to wear pants now. Yes I wear my dresses to church, not because I think we should wear our best for God in His house (which seriously makes no sense at all... technically the church isn't God's house... and He makes a point IN Scripture to tell us He doesn't look at the outer appearance, but the heart. Rabbit trail I know) I wear dresses simply because I Love to wear them! That is just who I am. And I'm becoming okay with that :)

Perspective

Friday afternoon my stress level, on a scale from 1(low) to 10(mental breakdown), was approximately a 9.79. I had a little work to finish up before taking the kids to see a movie, so I decided to take them to chick-fil-a. I thought they could play while I worked. Ha.Ha.Ha. Kydon couldn't open the door to the play area so, literally, every 5 minutes I had to get up to open the door for him. He had numerous meltdowns, and eventually I had to give up, go home, work (which was filled with numerous meltdowns), and catch a later showing. When I finally finished my work I thought I was going to explode. I was bitter about having such an awful day. I decided I needed to take just a few minutes to pray and calm down before we left. When I closed my eyes it hit me that this had not been an awful day. Yes, I just had encountered a couple of awful hours, but this had actually been a great day. Lets rewind to 1:00 earlier in afternoon.

I was getting ready to meet with my advisor to figure out my final college spring schedule. I was nervous because I had looked at the course offerings and it didn't look like I was going to be able to match it with the boys' school schedule. I was willing to do a day or two of before or afterschool care, but I really wanted to be on the same schedule as the boys. I met with my advisor and we saw conflicts. We then worked it out where I would take the early morning class online. It all looked pretty manageable except for another early class that I would have to rush to make it to. We then realized that was offered online as well... and it was for the 2nd session online. It would be brutal to take two classes online during the same session along with on campus classes. Another pleasant surprise, I was able to transfer some credit hours, and was down to 15 hrs opposed to 16. I then spoke to my advisor who is also the vice president of the college about grad school and she gave me some great advise, encouragement, and offered to write a detailed recommendation letter to the grad schools I apply to.

I left the meeting feeling completely in awe of the Lord. He had been so gracious to me. I kept thinking during the meeting during my silent pleas with the Lord, that I didn't deserve Him to answer my prayer... I had even forgot to read my Bible that morning. But He took care of me. He lavishly poured out His love on me.

So fast forward a few hours, when i was getting ready to ride my day off as awful and was growing bitter towards the Lord for not working things out for me.... As I sat there remembering my afternoon, I thought how selfish I was being. No, this day had not been awful. I had let a relatively brief trial cause me to forget God's goodness and provision towards me. I guess its all about perspective...