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Happy Monday all! Please join me over at Faith Deployed today as I talk about simple ways to create intimacy during separation.
This doesn't just apply to deployments, but for spouses who have careers that take them away from family for any period of time.
Join me over here today at Faith Deployed to read what's going on with me as I anticipate H's homecoming....
Today's Faith Deployed article focuses on praying scripturally for our children!
If you are a prayer warrior than please head over to Adrienne's blog and take a moment to pray for their TINY miracle baby Bennett. Jesus said "All things are possible for him who believes". Please keep this family in your thoughts and prayers!
Picture a beautiful day. Kids running around. Music playing softly in the background. Your favorite song always puts you in a great mood and while you're walking down the stairs to answer the knock at the door you hear the laughter of little voices and smile. It's going to be a great day.
When you open the front door there are two men standing side by side. In uniform. You turn back to see if the kids have followed you to the door. The tears slowly slip down your cheeks and although you see their lips moving, you can not hear their words over the pounding of your heart.
He is gone.
He's never coming home.
This past weekend the 1000th soldier was killed in Afghanistan. On the day that I realized that we had not conceived I thought of this family. Their no was so much bigger than mine.
For us it's not a no but a not right now.
But for this family, and like so many before them, it is the most painful kind of no. It is final.
No, you will never hold him again.
No, he will not be there for another Christmas or birthday.
No, your children will not understand why Daddy is not coming home.
No
No
No
I was so sad, so disappointed when our treatments failed this month because it means waiting until the end of the year to resume. I looked at G long and hard this weekend and had such vivid images of him as a new baby in my arms, vulnerable and mine. All mine forever. And I cried because I wonder if I will ever feel that again.
And then I thought of this family. And I think of my husband so far away in Iraq and how we all, even if just once, have imagined the dread of seeing men in uniform standing at our front door. It is almost unthinkable.
So for now, I say thank you to all who prayed for our success. Your prayers did not go unanswered or unheard. I believe God in His wisdom has something even better in store for us so we will put patience into practice. I am thankful that for now it is wait.
Because I understand how quickly things can change and how definite the no's can be.
There are moments when parenting is pure ecstasy. Yep. You read me right. Ecstasy. Pure unadulterated joy that leaves my heart singing with parental pride.
This is the conversation that G initiated while doing his homework:
G: Mommy, K & K were talking at school today and they both said that they aren't special.
(Now, at this point in the conversation I'm thinking this is a stall tactic to put off homework so I'm only half listening, but if you keep reading you'll see immediately why I tuned in fast!)
G: (exasperated and huffy) I TOLD them that they are very special-more special than they could every know!
Me: And what did they say to that?
G: (very emphatically and with gusto) They said they weren't special because they have sloppy handwriting and don't read well. And I said to them-are you kidding me? You two are WAY smarter than me! You're two of the smartest kids in the class and you should be proud of yourself!
Me: They are both very blessed to have such an encouraging friend. You really have a gift and I'm so happy to hear that you use it to encourage and be an example to those around you.
G: I mean, Mom, I told them that they are meant for something really special, even if they don't know what it is right now. But they are! I just know it! Just because they can't do something as well doesn't mean they aren't special. There are a lot of things that people are better at than me and it doesn't bother me. I know God made me special.
(Now I'm starting to get all misty and I can feel my nose turning red like when I ugly cry)
Me: Maybe they haven't been told in a really long time that God made them each special in their own way. I think maybe tonight when you say your prayers you could include them both- that is a big way that you could help them!
G: I feel sad that they don't think that they are good people and don't like themselves. I feel down sometimes and feel like I'm the weirdest person in our family (random) but I remember that God made me just fine how I am and He makes me smile again. It's really helped me a lot in my life to remember that.
I think my seven year old little boy made the angels in Heaven sing today.
I've sat down three times to write today and it's just not happening.
So today, whether you are over the moon with joy or wishing it was Friday already, take a moment for YOU! Remind yourself that you are a daughter of the most high King. A royal princess.
No crown of thorns required.
Love, April
Thanks for hanging in there with me. As I wrap up this last post on perfection I would like to say a few things before jumping in.
I am highlighting the difficult because there is a stigma. A pink elephant, self imposed stigma on marriage. Especially Christian marriages. We have all been, at some point, afraid that someone is going to play the un-Christian card against us. We smile in church and show up looking shampooed and put together so that the world sees our very, very Godly best. They will not see that we argued on the way to church about something petty and insignificant. They don't want to know that hubby slept on the couch last night because he may have indirectly inferred that we exercise. For our health. It's not important to mention that there have been nights when we slept on tear stained pillows, praying for morning and a fresh start.
Case in point. Who can forget the Gosselins? No really. Who can forget them because they're everywhere and they won't go away. Their show Jon & Kate Plus 8 was a huge hit. Why did people watch? Because this self professed Christian couple ripped on each other at every turn. Didn't it make us feel soooo much better about our own marriages? Didn't many of us say-from our very high horse- I. would. never!
I don't know how many times I read online the accusation that they couldn't possibly be Christians. Uh-Uh. No way, no how the Lord was in that house. Judge, judge, judge. A Christian woman would never berate her husband that way, her husband never sell out her insecurities and OCD tendencies on national television, especially in front of their precious children.
Really?
This isn't about Jon & Kate but it is about the ugliness that can hide and fester, oozing into our marriages like cancer. If memory serves me correctly I have been demanding, demeaning, self serving and selfish within the confines of my marriage. I have been angry, disgusted and antagonizing all towards the one person I promised to respect and cherish for the rest of my life. And I am a Christian woman.
I have learned the hard way that life is not what I imagined it would be. That has meant that it has been both difficult and immeasurably sweet. Humbling and ethereal. I have had more fun, cried more tears and laughed harder than I ever thought I would on this journey called life.
My problem with perfection was not with H but with myself. H being perfect meant that I could ride on his coat tails and share the light that reflected from his golden halo. I could bask in the ease of his perfectness and not have to do the hard work.
I know. It sounds almost ridiculous but at the time I thought I had it pretty much right and pretty much altogether. Recognizing and accepting everything about him meant changing some things about me, especially those little bitty expectations that kept bobbing about in my self serving ocean. It meant really seeing him for the man God made him to be, not the man I thought I deserved-who should have been, in a word-perfect.
A long time ago God saw to it that I marry a man who would and never could be perfect. Because if he was than I would not have turned to God in my moments of weakness. I would not have learned to die to myself and be reborn under the blood of the only perfect Man. We could never have grown together and eventually would have dissolved under the pressure-good intentions are nothing without God's direction.
God was in each and every moment and I'm sure there were times when He had great sadness for us. But now I hope He smiles because we listened. I listened.
Colossians 3:14 says
And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.
Love is perfect when God is in it. It is healing, it is renewing and it can take your breath away. I see so clearly the gift that God gave me in my husband. I am humbled that He said you are my choice for him. He is my choice for you. Enjoy, experience and let Me be in it.
If I could do it again, if my vows were spoken today I would say this:
My love, when I was still a girl, it was the idea of you that captured my heart.
I dressed you up in shining gilded armor, perched you on top
of a magnificent white horse and said,
take me away to happily ever after.
What I know now is that you are more than perfect.
You are better than happily ever after.
You are real and you are mine.
You have carried my heart across oceans and desserts.
Faithfully tucked away where I am only yours.
Our love is deeper than time and wider than space.
You are my safe place to fall. My forever friend.
Thank you for loving me.
To my husband, who has watched me grow from a young woman to a mother and wife, I love you.
If you haven't read Part I please head on over here before going further. It's for your benefit not mine-I tend to babble and it will keep things fluid...
If you're back for more of my ugly, imperfect self say a quick prayer that my words will be completely of the Lord. My purpose in writing about challenges in our marriage is to acknowledge and testify that we stumble when we put ourselves before God. And marriage is not a race but, hopefully, if we are blessed enough to grow wrinkly old together, a marathon of joys and challenges.
Now. Where were we?
I often wonder why I had this attitude of needing things to be perfect. I certainly was not perfect and really didn't expect it of myself. If I did I would be a meticulous housekeeper and that, my friends, is not the case.
Did I expect mediocrity for me? No. Did I hold myself to the same standards as my spouse? I said I did but probably not. Secretly I thought he should be more like me. More sensitive, more understanding, maybe even more passive for the sake of my pride.
I can remember being a child of the 80's. I know, just saying it gives me jelly bracelet, Madonna and side pony tail flash backs. For me, growing up had everything to do with how I envisioned my future. I was one big, romantic mess thrust in front of a television or boom box to be schooled in relationships. Put upon by evocative music lyrics like "I Want Your Sex" and "Like a Virgin" my perceptions of love, maturity and marriage became distorted and out of sync with what I had been taught by my parents. I saw perfection played out in ninety minutes on a movie screen and thought to myself, "I want that".
Am I blaming society or Hollywood for my unrealistic ideals of love and marriage? Absolutely not. But I can honestly say, as a young, impressionable girl, when you begin to romanticise a thin, legs-up-to-here prostitute that is swept off her feet by a rich, seemingly perfect man-there is room for cracks in the foundation. And don't even get me started with Top Gun. That movie was just one big falic symbol rolled up in Tom Cruise goodness (before his couch jumping and weird religion gave me the heebie jeebies).
But I digress.
Let's leave the 80's and move into 1998. Marriage day. White dress, white gloves, white chapel. Vows, not-so-first kiss, bubbles (rice was no longer fashionable or safe for bird consumption). Cake, friends and family, the Ritz Carlton Hotel. Back to work on Monday for new, darling husband. Reality hit on Tuesday.
Forever.
And ever. Oh crap.
I had no idea how to be a wife. I was a amazing girlfriend-rocked the casbah in that department. Loved his friends, loved his job, loved his mess. Our long distance, weekend relationship had been effortless and our four month engagement even better. Fresh, exciting, new. Now there were *gasp* expectations on both sides and not a single one spoken out loud. Just. Expected. Quietly, painfully, brewing beneath the surface expectations.
H had been an amazing boyfriend as well. Thoughtful, generous, PATIENT. Wow did that patience win me over. He thought of me as quirky sometimes but loved the role of "I know better than you, but aren't you adorable". I can't blame him-I put him there. I loved how tough and stormy he could be because it made me feel safe. He was, in some ways, an extension of my father. I made him my solid rock and expected him to never waiver.
I began to change my way of thinking shortly after the birth of our beautiful son. Our miracle. H was deployed and I delivered with the support of friends and family. But there was no husband to welcome our son with a kiss and no looks of adoration for the bride who gave him his first child. It was extremely painful to have that experience without him and soon after, the creeping, nagging thoughts whispered to me in those quiet moments alone with our new baby.
I did this all on my own.
I didn't need you after all.
You left me and I was still fine.
I am a good mother even without you here.
My pride began to grow, filling every void that had been opened with loneliness and insecurity. That pedestal slowly made it's way into the earth's atmosphere and I established myself as martyr extraordinaire. I was blameless and faultless because I had been (in my mind) abandoned. Again and again and again.
How could he compete with that?
I know you might be wondering where God is in all of this but stick with me. We're getting there. Come back tomorrow as I finish Part III of my futile journey in perfection.
I know we are not special. We share the burden of a deployed father and husband with thousands and thousands of families across the world. Yet, very selfishly, I feel like it is particularly unfair for my children. It's not that I feel a sense of entitlement, that we should be spared the pain of separation when others have done it longer and more frequently. I'm not saying we shouldn't have to endure it.
It's that I have to look into the watery eyes of my children and explain each and every day why Daddy is not home and it breaks my heart. Why he can not be here for birthdays, holidays and their Clone Wars weekend cartoon marathon.
Daddy always makes pancakes on Saturday mornings so I can sleep in. It's a ritual I started last deployment and have since passed that early morning baton to my husband who in turn pretends to grumble and groan about being a slave to small children each and every Saturday. He loves it and so do they, secretly triumphant in their power of persuasion over their father.
I hate stepping in and having to replace him. I'm not good at it and it's why he's the Dad and I'm the Mom. I don't do cool tricks on the trampoline and frankly after ten minutes I feel like a chain smoker and my toosh is sore for a week from the *ugh* exertion. Don't judge me, it's really hard (that's what she said) and the kids bully me to keep jumping until I cry Uncle. I have no one to tag in. It's just me and my sore butt.
I can't make paper airplanes that fly like Daddy. I'm not fluid in Star Wars speak and I definitely have no skills in the Lego repair factory that is our playroom. H literally super glued some of G's larger Lego sets for fear they would break and I couldn't repair them during his absence. I don't think ahead like he does.
I can't throw them in the air as high and little miss Prim notices that she can't touch the ceiling when I do it. I also don't have the same stamina. My husband has the energy and endurance of a ten year old in his pinkie finger alone.
I shouldn't have to be their everything. They should have the best of both of us, the balance that we bring to each other. They are learning so early that loss can be messy, even the temporary loss that deployments bring. Sometimes I feel incredible guilt. Especially for Prim. Every time he goes away she regresses. Emotionally she goes back to that place where life is not safe and the earth no longer spins around our home but is extended to a place across the world that is not tangible or understandable. Iraq may as well be a fairy tale land far, far away.
It breaks my heart to hear G say that he wishes there were people in the world who don't need Daddy's help anymore. But then, at night when we kneel to say our prayers, I know that God is working a miracle in our home because he prays:
Dear God
Please help Daddy to do a good job.
Keep him safe and his soldiers safe (still doesn't get that Daddy is a sailor :)
and help him to be a good example
to everyone around him.
Please help everyone in Iraq to see you
so that they can find peace.
Lord, be a light to my Daddy.
Amen
My kids are wiser than me because they see God without tarnished self imposed glasses. While I scream unfair!! for the sake of my children, God sees fit to give them early, precious lessons in humility, mercy and grace. While I pray that they are too young to carry such a burden, God responds firmly that they most certainly are not. He has seen fit to develop them in this way for His divine purposes.
And I may not see why now.
Or ever. But take comfort in the fact that He does.
Let me carry your burden He whispers. Come to me as a child He beckons. Cast your worries on Me.
To all of the men and women serving this nation and the cause of freedom throughout the world-I thank you and pray for your safe homecoming.
For the families who serve just as honorably at home, here and abroad, I thank you for being an inspiration and comfort to me. May God use this time to bless you and grow you in deeper fellowship with Him.
I get distracted when I think.
I forgot Prim's lunch for school this morning. I was standing at the fridge, contemplating what I could pull together despite many days of avoiding the grocery store and thought to myself "that Jill Zarin is a real pill". Just like that I was distracted by thoughts of a reality television show. Somewhere between the Real Housewives and blackberry yogurt I lost my focus. Really?
This is what I've become. A semi geriatric woman inside a thirty three year old body with just enough consciousness to get through the week. My son has become my personal, fully automated 'To Do List'. If I could press his belly button for play and tug on his ears for Forward and Rewind my days would probably improve ten fold in the area of organization.
The worst is at night. When all is quiet except the buzzing of my white noise machine and the overhead fan, I close my eyes and begin my prayers. I have so many to pray for, so much to be thankful for and constantly in need of guidance. There are bloggy moms that I ask God to encourage, my husband who needs comfort before saying goodbye to our children, and, oh yeah, that small tiny prayer of becoming a mother again. For all of my concentrating and yearning to be in complete communication with Him I wander.
And I wander far.
I find myself down a yellow brick road of thoughts and feelings without direction. My mind becomes a crazy mish-mash of oompa loompas and flying monkies shoving prayer into the smallest recess of my mind. You could argue that cleaning, chauffeuring and refereeing all day is reason enough to give me a pass. That being a busy mom and wife are enough to make anyone sane woman easily distracted with the day to day minutia. You could also reason that being a single mom during a deployment shoots me clear to the top of the excuse pile right to martyr status. Distraction then becomes my acceptable sin.
But it shouldn't.
The greatest deception we face as mothers is to believe that the often chaotic, supremely tiring lives we live is good enough reason to be distracted from God.
We get sucked in.
Pulled in deep by dirty diapers, spilled cheerios and after school activities.
We miss that there is a force working against the very heart and soul of who we are as Christian women and what's worse is that we sometimes embrace it. I am distracted by mindless thoughts of a reality show because it is a weakness and Satan uses it to distract me from quiet time with God.
When I am in a moment of prayer and my thoughts are constantly held captive by a recipe I want to make out of my new Southern Living Magazine or a much needed blog post, I am losing a battle against darkness.
You might be shaking your head saying, April, come on now. We ALL face distractions. It's a part of life!! I'm lucky to remember to pray every day or Everyone forgets to make their kids lunch at least once. And you're right. Once in a while is once in a while.
But do not fall prey to the ploys of the Devil because they come rapped in shiny wrapping and social graces. There is good reason we are reminded to "take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ" (2 Cor 10:5).
This is my challenge to you, dear friends, because this is a challenge for myself. This week, when you find distraction seeping into your prayer life or devotional time, push the pause button. Acknowledge the distraction and move back to a place of worship while holding the truth of God's Word captive.
God bless and have a productive, distraction free week!
I know a lot of us struggle with our parenting choices whether we have biological or adopted children. For adoptive parents, however, there is the added emotion of "am I doing it correctly?" How is my parenting going to effect the outcome of this child's life? Will my impatience today be reflected in the face of my child ten years from now? Could I be doing more to foster a closer bond?
First, let us take a deep breath and recognize that we are not perfect. Not even close. For just one minute, close your eyes and reflect on the fact that God's perfect hand is over your child. He will be the Bridge for the gap that is our imperfection and weakness. Lean on Him in the moments when you are unsure or unable and then give yourself the grace to realize that every single moment is new. How you responded a minute ago does not have to be how you respond now! It is like living 24 hours of second chances. Use them and build on them to strengthen your skill set and resolve.
The next time your hyper vigilant, hyper aware little one tantrums, disobeys and all-out tests every shred of patience you have, take a quick minute to assess and then plan. Make each moment purposeful and non reactive on your part. Remember, match intensity but not emotion.
This is what I have learned to say to myself before going forward:
1. Prim's did not wake up this morning with the intention of getting under my skin.
2. She wants my approval so her reaction right now is obviously not desirable for her either.
3. My goal is to get her regulated, not to make her obey.
4. I can not have a teachable moment until she is calm and focused and that may take time.
5. I am not 'giving in', just GIVING. (repeat this over and over again!)
Our little ones (and big ones!) have a deep desire for peace. The conflict of emotions that they feel on a daily basis to stimuli and stress is confusing, stressful and frightening. Our job is to give them a safe place to fall and acceptance during these moments of dyregulation. We don't have to like the behavior, but we can love the child for who she is. Even if this is the fifth or twenty fifth temper tantrum, approach each without the emotion carried over from the first. It is exhausting but you will see results!
Here are some tips for effectively modeling regulation:
1. Learn to breath! If your child is too young or unwilling to take deep, cleansing breaths when they become dysregulated show them that mommy and daddy can do it as well. Even in the face of screaming and crying, let them see you taking deep breaths before responding to them.
2. Bubbles!! This is a great way to practice breathing and a wonderful opportunity for distraction. Have them on both floors of the house so they can be reached easily. I will never forget the day I asked Prim in the middle of a temper tantrum "where are you bubbles??". I was that desperate!
3. Bubbles are not just for the kids! They are for you too! Sometimes it is enough to sit close by, open the bubbles and slowing start blowing. It is amazing how 1) calming this is for YOU and 2) how distracting it can be to our little one.
4. Words of affirmation. Again, we don't have to approve of the behavior but we can certainly validate the feels and give them a name. "Yes, I understand that you are angry. I can see that you are frustrated. That seems to make you sad". Giving words to feelings will eventually help them to connect their emotions in a healthy way.
5. Holding. What our children often desire in the midst of their emotional chaos is safety and acceptance in the form of a hug or rocking. For me this was hard as I felt I was 'giving in to bad behavior'. When I started holding instead of separating myself, however, the melt downs have become much, much shorter in duration and intensity.
6. Distraction. Prim's whining has gotten better. What I realized is that I was becoming a part of the problem instead of the solution. Instead of telling her to stop whining (which only escalated her response) I try and switch gears verbally to stop her brain from taking that next step in her emotional response.
For example: Prim starts whining that she really, really, REALLY wanted that snack before dinner. Me: I understand you are hungry and dinner will be ready in five minutes. Since you do such a great job, can you give the dogs a treat for me? I really need a helper right now so I can get dinner ready for you because I know you're hungry." So in just a few sentences I have validated her feelings and tried to redirect her while letting her know that I am doing my best to meet her need. For Prim this big of a phrase is usually ok. Sometimes she can only handle once sentence at a time so I slow it down. I understand you are hungry. Dinner will be in five minutes. Can I hold you?
Don't ever, not ever never ever, forget that God knew that YOU are the perfect mother for this child!! You are what they need! Remember: assess, plan, breathe and when all else fails-love. God does not love us because we are lovable. He loves us because He is love and we are created to be in relationship with Him.
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