Being True To Myself

Well, it seems that I truly am learning to be me. Two years ago I didn’t have any idea what that meant or who I was. I still have a long way to go, but I’m finally getting comfortable in my own skin – to the point where I can say, “Take me as I am or watch me as I go.”

Many of the things I’ve learned about myself have not been good and sometimes I look at who I was – or wasn’t – and hate that person, or at least think how pathetic ‘she’ was. One of the biggest things I have realized lately is that I can’t be in a relationship because I can’t give what it takes. I’ve tried – several times – with wonderful, loving men who knew enough about me to understand that I needed time and understanding, but I still couldn’t do it. My mistake was in looking for a man who would make me feel whole – who would fill in the parts I was missing. A heartfelt talk with my sister helped me understand that a real relationship doesn’t happen with a man who fills in the missing parts, but from two whole people who come together and compliment each other. After that discussion I started to see how little I really knew about healthy relationships and how unready I was for anything.

I always thought loving a man meant that I set myself aside and did anything and everything my man wanted and needed to make him happy. That included wearing my hair the way he liked it, dressing in clothes he preferred, and generally doing whatever he wished in order to please him. Part of discovering who I am has been learning how to please me – discovering what I like to wear, how I like my hair, what I enjoy watching, reading, listening to, etc. It means wearing make-up to make me feel good, but also not wearing it and feeling okay with how I look. When I finally caught on, I was able to look at men differently.

I also thought I needed a man to complete me. I hated being lonely – disliked not having someone to depend on. Those are really bad reasons to be in a relationship. Eighteen years after the fact, I finally see that those two qualities were a huge part of what led me down the path of victimization and domestic violence. I need to work on completing myself. No one else can do it for me. I’ve known for quite a while that God wants to use me and I’ve wondered what He’s waiting for. I understand now that He is using me in different small ways, but that He can’t use me in mighty ways until I understand my identity, not just in me but also in Him.

I’m finally comfortable enough with myself to know what I like and to be able to voice it without compromise. I can stay true to myself and be confident that if someone else doesn’t like it or agree with me, we can either accept our differences and move forward, or we can part ways and move on separately. It’s okay to let people go sometimes. It just means your learning time with them has come to an end.

All this self-discovery is helping my confidence grow and I see people drawn to it. I am loved for who I am, not for what I can do for others. It’s liberating and it gives me great joy to know that my friends and family love my heart.

I find great peace in knowing that I do not need a man. Being lonely is normal and it’s okay – and now that I acknowledge it, I find I can go to God and He gets me through it. I only need to depend on Him – He never fails. I know I’m broken, but I finally accept that a man can’t fix me. When I was able to recognize that, I was also able to let go of the need to be in a relationship – I don’t want to hurt anyone or continue hurting myself – and now I don’t have to.

It’s difficult to write these things about myself. Everyone sees me as strong and independent and I don’t like letting people over the walls. I don’t like showing weakness, but I know that I can’t grow the way I need when I’m hiding in the shadow of my walls of self-preservation…but that’s a story for another day…

What?

“Why?” is the most useless question in the universe.

The only question with any meaning is, “What?”

Asking, “Why is this happening?” can only disempower you.

Asking, “What do I want to make of this?” does exactly the opposite.

He

He carries a bubble gum pink comb in his pocket because it’s my favorite color…yet when he gets teased about it, he says it’s to support breast cancer awareness and the kids back off.

He lives for Star Wars, Rise of Nations, and Medal of Honor…but he’ll snuggle next to me and help me solve Agatha Christie games.

He acts so very, very tough…until he gets home and tells me how hard it is to listen to the kids at school tease him because his dad’s not around.

He’s had difficulty finding that one real friend who gets him and likes what he likes…until he met Jonathan.

He tries to be soooooo cool, but really he’s just a dork like me…and it’s so very endearing to my heart.

He badgers me about using Facebook…until it dawns on him to stop and really look at me and ask me if I’m okay.

He thinks he hides his heart…but mothers always see through the camouflage.

He’s working to do better and be better…and I hope he knows that every attempt makes me love and respect him more than yesterday. More than 5 minutes ago.

He’s afraid he’ll mess up so badly that I won’t want him with me…but he forgets that I risked it all to keep us together.

He thinks he has everyone fooled…but he’s only fooling himself.

He’s finally learning that being annoying gets him the attention he doesn’t want…but being athletic gets him the attention he craves.

He’s shown implicit obedience through fear of abuse…I want him to make normal teen-age boy trouble…and know there’s always safety with me.

He yelled at me every day until I got sick…now he hugs me instead.

He grumbles about doing his chores…but jumps at the chance to bring me a drink and kiss me on the forehead.

He doesn’t know what his future holds…but with a heart like his, I know it’s going to be something great.

 

Strong Enough

My friends will be the first to tell you that I love puttering around on Facebook. I have such diverse friends that any time I pull up my home page, I can be assured of some interesting reading and conversations. Lately I’ve seen quite a few posts about strength. Most of them state that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle or that God gave us our struggles because He knew we were strong enough to handle them. Lovely thoughts, and I agree with some of it.

I have complete faith that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle at the present time. However, I don’t necessarily believe that God allows certain things because He knows we’re strong enough. I believe He allows things that He knows we can eventually be strong enough to overcome. Maybe that sounds confusing, so I’ll explain what I mean.

I was diagnosed with a life-threatening disease. When I heard the doctor’s words, my first thoughts were for my children and how I could keep this to myself so it wouldn’t affect them. I told 2 close friends who respected my choice not to tell the kids, but cautioned that I’d have to tell them something eventually. Knowing that the treatment would be very difficult, I began wondering how God thought I was strong enough to deal with it when He knew I was barely getting through each day with the current burdens I was carrying. I told God He was wrong – I couldn’t do it – and there needed to be another way. I wonder some times if He just sighs when I say things like that. He’s so very patient and I am so very, very stubborn. I cried a while, then decided I was going to take charge of my treatment and spent a lot of time reading about it. I had found the strength to make it through the day.

It soon became apparent that keeping things a secret wasn’t helping anyone. So I told my kids. Of course they were scared, but they also reassured me that we’d walk this road together, and if there were times I couldn’t walk it, they’d be there to help me along. I hated telling them and I felt like I’d failed them for being sick, but it relieved a burden. I had again found the strength to make it through the day.

The treatments don’t hurt, but the side effects are murder and they become progressively worse. After my treatment Tuesday I told God I couldn’t do another one. I was done, come what may. I cried to a friend because I know he understands what it’s like to live in sickness and pain every day. And when I got those feelings out, I didn’t feel quite so weak anymore. By the evening I was sick as a dog and hurting badly, but the thoughts of giving up were gone. I had found the strength to make it through one more day.

Yesterday I was barely out of bed. My rheumatoid arthritis has reared its ugly head because of the treatment I’m undergoing. Add in the other side effects and the pain was barely tolerable even with Vicodin and Oxycontin. Yeah, not a fun day. I distracted myself with TV, puzzles, and Facebook. I think I drove my friends and family crazy texting them with every silly cartoon and joke I saw. They never said a word, and I think they all knew why I was doing it. I love them for being so tolerant. As difficult as it was, I had found the strength to make it through the day.

This morning I woke up in agonizing pain. I wanted to stay in bed but my responsibilities don’t allow for that. When I walked in to my kitchen I found a mess everywhere I looked. My boys had spilled food on the floor and left it, tossed containers and wrappers in the general direction of the garbage can, and left dishes in the sink with food still in them. I got angry. Then self-pity took over and I found myself asking God how He really expected me to manage everything when the boys didn’t cooperate, my oldest child (who would normally take charge) was never home, and I was looking forward to just being sicker and sicker. I started to feel panicky thinking about how sick I could possibly become and I cried out to God and told Him I wasn’t strong enough to deal with the things I know are coming. You’re probably a step ahead of me here…sometimes I’m a little slow on the uptake. God told me I only had to be strong for today. I only needed to get through this moment, and then the next. So far today, that is what I’ve had to do…string the day along moving moment by moment and not look any farther. I am finding the strength to make it through the day.

This is what I believe about strength: We only need enough strength to get through the trials of the moment. None of us possess now the strength we’re going to need for a situation 6 months from now because God gives daily what we need and it grows. I don’t have the strength I’ll need to survive 4 weeks from now, but I don’t have to worry about it. God is already there. He knows what it’s going to take to get me there. If I walk with Him and trust in Him, He will only give me what I can withstand today. Then He will graciously help me take that strength and multiply it in order to shoulder the burdens of tomorrow.

People often ask me how I’ve been so strong through everything I’ve gone through. I suppose it’s because they see me after-the-fact or they don’t realize at the time that I’m just functioning minute-to-minute. That’s all I have to do. Gods grace is sufficient. All He wants me to do is keep walking. And what is walking? The stringing along of one step, then another, one moment after the other…

Soul Poison

Refusing to forgive someone who has wronged you is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.

 

My Living Legacy

For the past 2 days I haven’t been able to turn on the TV, radio, or computer without hearing or reading about the death of Steve Jobs. Tonight I am unable to sleep. I made a few attempts to work on my book, but it just wasn’t happening so I turned on the TV and watched a documentary about the legacy of Steve Jobs. I started thinking about that word – legacy – and what it means, and from there I began wondering about my own legacy. When I’m gone, what will I leave behind?

Yes, I know what you’re thinking…the seven children…but that’s pretty obvious…and without much thought I could add all the tangible things I own. What a pitiful legacy that would be. Looking inside myself and at the goals I’ve placed in front of me, I see my legacy as a living, breathing being that grows and develops as I do the same. I write a blog. I’m working on a book. When I’m gone, will any of my words matter? I can’t say, but realistically speaking, no, I don’t think they will make any impact. So what then can I claim, besides the 7 children? It’s what I teach those 7 children.

My kids were all born into chaos. My oldest daughter came into this world 4 days after I buried her father. I knew from the moment I saw her that God had great things planned for her. I wrote it in her baby book. I often shared that belief with her. Just lately she’s been battling some serious issues, and as she learned to overcome, she told me that maybe God did have big plans for her. I’ve never doubted that. Her six younger siblings were born into an extremely abusive home. None of them had a ‘normal’ childhood because they learned to stifle themselves in order to appease their abuser. In our two years of freedom, I’ve seen them slowly blossoming and I’m excited to see personalities developing. They are learning that they each have a sense of humor, and they are realizing that it’s ok to be individuals.

It isn’t easy to take someone out of the unhealthy life they’ve always known and transplant them into something better. They fight to get back to what they were comfortable with, no matter how horrendous it was. So it takes strength, tenacity, and unbelievable stamina to fight that desire to regress and to instead keep moving everyone forward. When we were first free from our abuser I told my boys every day that they could willingly accept our new circumstances and we’d all walk through it together, or I would drag them kicking and screaming into a normal life. For a long time I dragged them along as they fought me and dug in their heels. Nowadays I can usually cajole them into taking steps on their own. I have no doubt that soon they’ll be walking along with no help from me…and I cannot wait to see who they become.

So if I were to say that my legacy lies with my children and what I’ve taught them, I pray that it means they’ve seen my profound love for my Lord, my strength, my ability to give whatever I have to make life better for the 7 hearts I love so intensely, and that they’ve applied those attributes to their own lives. I’ve taught them to love people where they’re at, never judge what they don’t understand, and to fight for what is right, no matter the consequences. When my life is done I pray I will leave knowing that my children are all working to attain the dreams God planted in their hearts, and that they have a burning desire to follow Him wherever He leads. And I hope they’ve learned from me that greatness doesn’t come from wealth, power or fame…it comes from finding their identity in Christ and living life abundantly. I want to look down on each of my kids and see them rocking this world for God’s kingdom. What a legacy that will be…

What Do YOU think?

I asked my friends to describe me using one word. It was interesting to read their responses, but not surprising, because many wrote ‘strong’ and I know I am, but with a lot of help from God. Once in awhile someone tells me I’m tough and that chafes a bit with me. For a while I didn’t really understand what it was about that word that bothered me, except that I had an innate feeling it just wasn’t correct. We’ve already established that I’m a person who needs answers, in one form or another, so I decided to check the definitions.

Dictionary.com describes strong in two separate categories – physical and mental – and aside from the definitions of physical strength, I found these: of great moral power, firmness, or courage; mighty; capable; valiant; brave; bold; intense; persuasive; conclusive; steady; firm; secure; unwavering; resolute; fervid; vehement; brilliant; vivid

Their definition of tough is as follows: strong and durable, not easily broken or cut; not brittle or tender; capable of great endurance; sturdy; hardy; hard; inflexible

It became a bit clearer to me why I will accept strong, but not tough. I know I’m courageous – I chose freedom over abuse at the possible cost of my life. Capable? Ask my seven children how often they’ve gone without a home, food, clothes, and even the ‘extras’ that make life easier.  Brave? Bold? Intense? My ex is in prison for a long time; I didn’t give in even when we were in danger. Persuasive? I’m just gonna chuckle at this one because I’m very rarely told no. Conclusive? Oh, yes. If you’ve read my past entries, you already know it.  Steady, firm, unwavering, and resolute? I support eight people alone. There is no alimony, no child support, and there never will be. As far as security,  it’s something I strive to give to my children now because they began their lives lacking in that area. So those are some of the attributes listed for someone who is strong.

Let’s take another look at what is considered tough. Not easily broken. Definitely not me – I keep my heart behind a wall because it breaks very easily. Not tender? When most people are around me I can see how they might think this because I’m not physically affectionate or emotional, but I just choose who will see my emotions. If I cry around you – and believe me, there aren’t many who see me cry – it’s because you are one of the very few I trust with my feelings. Capable of great endurance? Nope. Guess who makes it seem as though I am the one enduring? God. He carries me, don’t ever doubt it. Sturdy? I’ll agree with this because when I checked the definition it said ‘indomitable’ and that’s me. Hardy makes me think of a plant surviving in severe conditions, and since I’ve bloomed where God planted me, I’ll also agree with hardy. But then comes hard and inflexible, of which I am neither. Hard hearts don’t weep at the beauty of a song written straight from the soul of their hurting child, or feel profoundly moved when their little ones giggle with joy, or rejoice at seeing the sun set because it signifies another day of freedom and life. Hard hearts don’t love fiercely, nor do they give with no thought of return. And inflexibility is never a trait one can utilize successfully in a home with 7 children – every day we learn to negotiate, pick our battles, and sometimes just give in. I teach them to find their balance.

I still believe that strong better describes me rather than tough. Recently I received a text from my daughter who was running a deep fryer at work even though her hands were covered in blisters from an allergic reaction. She told me the pain was horrendous, but she was doing it anyway because she’s tough. I texted back that she’s doing it because she’s strong, not tough, never be tough. Maybe now she’ll get the gist of what I meant. I’ll be strong until my last breath, but I never want to be tough. Never.

What do you think?

Take My Hand

I know there are times
Your dreams turn to dust.
You wonder as you cry
Why it has to hurt so much?
Give Me all your sadness,
Someday you will know the reason why.
With a child-like heart,
Simply put your hope in Me.

Take My hand and walk where I lead,
Keep your eyes on Me alone.
Don’t you say why were
The old days better?
Just because you’re
Scared of the unknown.
Take My hand and walk.

 
Don’t live in the past
Cause yesterday’s gone,
Wishing memories would last.
You’re afraid to carry on,
You don’t know what’s comin’,
But you know the One who holds tomorrow.
I will be your guide,
Take you through the night
If you keep your eyes on Me.

 
Take my hand and walk where I lead,
Keep your eyes on me alone.
Don’t you say why were
The old days better?
Just because you’re
Scared of the unknown.
Take my hand and walk where I lead,
You will never be alone.
Faith is to be sure of what you hope for
And the evidence of things unseen.
So take my hand and walk.

 
Just like a child,
Holding daddy’s hand.
Don’t let go of mine,
You know you can’t stand
On your own.

 
Words by Jean-Luc Lajoie and Yves Lajoie
Music by Jean-Luc Lajoie

I Quit! Isn’t it wonderful??

I’ve finally come to the conclusion that it isn’t the right time for dating or romantic relationships. I’m not ready. I can’t give to a relationship all that it would need, so I’m giving it over to God, knowing He will hold my heart and keep it from harm.

Now is the time to raise my kids – to be completely there for them…as much as a single parent can be there. My needs can wait. Their needs cannot. My seven hearts come first, always, and they need to be secure in that knowledge. Being such incredible kids, they encourage me to date and have fun. However, every time I’m out and one of my boys calls me because the babies want to say goodnight, it hurts my heart to blow kisses over the phone knowing there are two little ones needing Momma to kiss them and tickle their bellies as they are tucked in for sleep. I find that I would rather be with them.

Dating has broken my heart and made me feel discontent, so I quit. I’m glad to say for once that I quit something. I’m going back to what made me content…my seven hearts waiting for me at home.