Parenting

Why is it so Hard to Trust God?

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Trusting God. What a concept. Trusting an invisible God with every bit and breath of my life. I am terrible at it. He wants all of me, yet so often I do not give Him much of me at all.

How do we trust in someone we have never physically seen? Yet we can’t fully trust the humans we are able to see but they are not perfect like God.

Fear, pride, spiritual blindness, laziness, old wounds, perceived lack of time are some things that can block our ability to trust in God.

We “take stuff back”. We trust God for a while but then when things aren’t working out so well or moving fast enough, we stop trusting and return to worry, fretting and trying to fix it ourselves.

I would love to know the future. I can’t stand not knowing. I need to plan ahead and know what I should or shouldn’t do, which is basically impossible, therefore I am often paralyzed when making decisions.

Maybe that’s playing God. Precisely what Lucifer’s fall was and sin entering the world. Wanting to be God or even above God, is a big part of the mess we are in.

It seemed easier for me to trust God when I was younger and perhaps more naïve, like when I was pregnant with triplets.

The whole experience was a wild ride and God stretched me to the limits of trusting Him. There were many, many scary and difficult moments. And, I had no choice, three new lives were at stake and it was mostly out of my control.

Somehow by the grace of God I survived and so did the triplets.

But that experience was a positive life force, so maybe that made it easier. Trusting through sickness, grief, and hardship seems much more difficult if not seemingly impossible. There is not always new life at the end of it.

I am finding the last phase of life completely stressful, unnerving and challenging. There seems to be so much more I have to trust God about.

I thought I got good at trusting 30 years ago, so I was finished.

Lesson learned.

Not quite.

Like a young child trusts their father to take care of them, we need to trust God, our Father, to take care of us. Why is it so hard for us grown-ups? I’m a mother, I should know. But I am more used to mothering than being “mothered”.

We need to surrender to the God who loves us and made us. Who among us wants to willingly surrender? It is against human nature. Would you want to be in a fierce battle and be on the side that surrenders or loses??

We are wired to win.

Surrendering is not easy. It was not easy for Jesus to surrender to his Father in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Surrendering means sometimes things are going to be very, very difficult. That is why it can be so hard to do.

…For we have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you. (2 Chronicles 20:12)

I feel like lately I have trouble with trust because I have more years of life experience and am aware of so many more crazy things that can happen to people. There are a lot more stories to tell.

Over time I have also learned that when God wants me to trust and go deeper with Him, there is usually a reason and often one I don’t like. So I know I’m in the fire being refined and OUCH! nobody likes the heat of that.

My life is not my own anyway, as a Christian it is to be lived for Christ. We need to keep the focus on Him rather than ourselves.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. (Proverbs 3:5)

And yet, while looking back, God has come through for me many times in my life already so why don’t I trust Him? How foolish can I be? He has proven His faithfulness many times over. I need to recall these times when I am feeling defeated and doubtful.

This is a lot to swallow in my wretched humanness. It takes me years to learn things, and then I find myself re-learning the same things, over and over and over again. I think all of us have certain issues in our lives that we constantly battle and it takes our whole lives to work on them.

I am a quick learner, but perhaps not when it comes to some spiritual matters. Those go to the very depths of existence. That’s different than knowing the answers on exams or quickly picking up a new hobby or concept.

I will need to surrender and be tested like gold in fire and be beaten and struggle over and over again until I can say, like St. Ignatius of Loyola: YOUR LOVE AND YOUR GRACE ARE ENOUGH FOR ME.

And that, is a life-long journey.

JESUS I TRUST IN YOU! HELP ME TRUST YOU MORE!

PRAYERS FOR TRUST IN GOD:

Litany of Trust (click for prayer) Sisters of Life.org

St. Faustina Litany of Divine Mercy/Trust

Prayer by St. Ignatius of Loyola:

Take O Lord, and receive my entire liberty, my memory, my understanding and my whole will. All that I am and all that I possess You have given me. I surrender it all to You to be disposed of according to Your will. Give me only Your love and Your grace; with these I will be rich enough, and will desire nothing more.

And here’s another great song I used to play a lot at bedtime when I was first saved as a teenager. (Also a song we would play on guitar at Mass.) You can tell I really like this St. Ignatius prayer!

Marred, Like My Kitchen Table

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  • marred – damaged or spoiled to a certain extent; made less perfect, attractive, useful, etc.  (dictionary.com)
  • marred – to ruin or diminish the perfection or wholeness of  (Merriam Webster)
  • marred – blemished by injury or rough wear (wordnik.com) 

This describes my kitchen table.  It has been marred over the years and looks quite beat up with scrapes and scratches, dents and dings.

When we were first married, we bought the kitchen nook set “naked” meaning we had to refinish it.  It was a beastly project, sanding, staining, polyurethane-ing over and over until it was just right.  Young and in love while trying to save money, I was game to try it.  I will tell you now, I would never undertake such a project again.

But this kitchen nook set, with its handy storage benches, has served us well over the years and 4 kids later.

Recently, upon glancing at my marred kitchen table, years of memories came flooding over me.  The table’s wear is proof of years gone by.  That table had “lived” in 3 different locations and one day a fourth, as I want to give it to my youngest who excitedly treasures the thought of refinishing it back to good as new.  She has done these types of projects before, and unlike me, enjoys them.

Besides, with its marred surface and memories, it should stay in the family. Memories of triplets eating around the table with their booster seats, endless craft projects, dinners with friends & family, carving pumpkins, birthdays celebrated and still future memories to be made.  A kitchen table has turned out to be a very emotional place rendering it invaluable. 

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But aren’t we all a bit like that table?  Marred in some way?  Whether by the ups and downs of life, handicaps or failings, disease or sin.  We are all marred by the scars of life.

But Jesus can restore us no matter how badly we have been marred, just as my daughter can restore the wooden table.  Wood can be refinished, just like us. 

We are molded by the hands of God like the potter molds clay.  We are weathered and worn and beat up like the table but we still have value.  Jesus is the great refinisher.  Makes sense, since He was a carpenter’s son.

What has been marred in us can be restored.  We can appreciate who we have become through our scars, dents and dings because they have made us more beautiful and who we are today.

My daughter may choose a different color of stain, but it will still be the same table underneath. Over the years we may look or seem different, but we are still who God made us.

We can always have hope in Christ for our restoration and refinishing. 

I was fascinated (and relieved) when I learned many cultures deliberately include an imperfection in their artwork, rugs, pottery, etc.  In Japanese aesthetics, for instance, it’s known as “wabi sabi”, a world view centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection.  It is found in many forms of Japanese art.

Our flaws make us unique, just like each piece of crafted artwork. If we look beyond the imperfections we can see the beauty in ourselves and others.

I could cover my kitchen table with a cute or frilly tablecloth to hide the wear and tear and protect it from further abuse, as I have at times, but now I prefer to keep it “naked” with all its dings and dents and memories.  I don’t have to worry about ruining it, because it is already seasoned and each scrape and dent will add a new flavor.

Now, every time I look at my kitchen table, it reminds me of life lived and that nothing and none of us is perfect, and that’s okay.   


A bruised reed He will not break…. (Matthew 12:20)

Yet, Lord, you are our father; we are the clay and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.  (Isaiah 64:7)

But we hold this treasure in earthen vessels, that the surpassing power may be of God and not from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not constrained; perplexed but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed; (2 Corinthians 7-9)

My Journey from Death to Life

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In His hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.

Job 12:10

This isn’t an article I want to write, but feel I need to write.

Many years ago when the topic of abortion was perhaps less charged than it is today, I considered myself pro-choice.  Why shouldn’t a woman have the right to choose what to do with her own body?  (But in actuality, she is temporarily housing someone else’s body.)

I went to college in the days when The Feminine Mystique, by Betty Friedan, and other feminist writings were popular. Freshmen were required to enroll in a “reading” class on feminism. Granted, it was a women’s college, but it was still heavily biased in only one direction.  Funny how these modern-day “feminists” are now silent on biological men in women’s sports and various other issues pertaining to women.  But I digress.

In the current culture, crazed women dress up like female body parts screaming in the streets for their right to kill while not even knowing what a woman actually is!  Mystifying.

In contrast, elderly women are being arrested for praying near abortion clinics, and actual criminals are allowed to go free, even within our own government.  How backwards things have become!

I also used to find it odd that Congress would argue about when life begins.  As if a bunch of politicians with their own agendas are the ones to be making this decision!  

We must remember legality is not necessarily morality.

Abortion is being called health care and a right, which it is neither. 

Today, abortion has become over-politicized.  (Just look at the Planned Parenthood free abortion truck outside the 2024 Chicago DNC. Demonic!)  So now a President should be elected based on their approval to kill?

The Sixth Commandment clearly states:  Thou shalt not kill.   It appears even most non-believers agree with this basic moral rule, or so I thought. 

It actually doesn’t matter if you believe in the Ten Commandments or not.  Truth is truth whether you believe it or not, like it or not, and even if no one believes it.

The sacrifice of so many human lives through abortion today is not unlike the child sacrifice to the pagan god Moloch in the Bible. (Leviticus 18:21; Jeremiah 32:35)

This disrespect for life and destruction of the family unit as God designed it is why we are where we are today.  And it’s not good.

In a society that displays a blatant disrespect for human life, it will only be a matter of time before they come for YOU.  They will find a reason.  Euthanasia is gaining momentum.  Killing babies and the most vulnerable is only the beginning.  (And don’t be fooled by the government suddenly caring about saving lives during a scamdemic or any other “crisis” deemed for your own good.)

But since things were never “nipped in the bud” way back when, they just continue to snowball.  Look how far we’ve gone into crazyville. 

Now the argument is whether you can kill a baby all the way up to birth and even beyond!! Has anyone ever heard of adoption?  Soon the country will be barely recognizable with all our values stripped and society eroded.

All these things make me realize ever more clearly how this movement of disrespecting life has overtaken society and is the undercurrent for much of the evil going on today.  Unfortunately, too many people just don’t see it.

It’s all so insane I can no longer ignore it.  And neither should you. 

WHAT FINALLY CHANGED MY MIND

What turned the tide for me was when New York lit up the One World Trade Center spires in pink on January 22, 2019 for the passage of The Reproductive Health Act on the 46th anniversary of Roe v. Wade.  It was unreal, to celebrate death of babies aka murder.  Seems the only thing people seem to want to celebrate these days is evil.

Also, as a mother of multiples (triplets) I was given the option by doctors to “reduce” my pregnancy on a number of occasions.  Selective reduction they called it. By the grace of God I did not do anything foolish.

Then when Roe v. Wade was overturned on June 24, 2022, the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus no less, you would think churches would be ecstatic and celebrating from the rooftops encouraging more wins for life.  Sadly, that was not the case, at least not where I live.  

Unfortunately the churches, which should be very vocal on issues of life and death, are pretty silent (except during scamdemics). Most churches won’t touch abortion claiming it’s a political issue.  How wrong they are.  It is a spiritual and moral issue.

It all boils down to people not wanting consequences for their actions, they want to have their cake and eat it too but it doesn’t work that way.  And whatever happened to healthy shame?  That thing called your conscience, that can sometimes keep people out of bad situations. 

The beginning of wisdom is fear of the Lord.

Proverbs 9:10

When abortion is perceived as a quick fix, fleshly desires can be quenched because you can just get an abortion after all. However, abortion is not without risk, physical and psychological.  The effects can be lasting.  Some women even die.

And where is the man’s right in all of this?  It takes two to tango.  What if he wants to keep the baby?  I do not know what legal rights the father has but I imagine it probably varies based on location.

Alternatives to abortion such as ABSTINENCE or adoption, no longer seem to be part of the conversation.

TOWARD THE FUTURE

I still feel like this is a journey for me, as it is for many, but at least I am headed in the right direction.  Everyone has their unique story, even women who have had abortions.  I’m not judging anyone.

We have to remember some people just aren’t there yet and some never will be….I wasn’t.  It often takes some kind of personal experience or aha moment to change your mind about things.  And sadly, some people just don’t want the truth and choose to remain on the side of evil.

Jesus has His followers and so does the devil. 

But, there is hope.  There are still people fighting for those who have no voice.  People can and do change their minds.  God’s mercy is always available if you sincerely open yourself up to it. 

All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.  (Romans 3:23)

So maybe, just maybe, I could change some minds or save a life with this article.  It’s a step in the right direction.

Some resources if you want to learn more or get involved in the fight for life:

National Right to Life Committee at nrlc.org 

priestsforlife.org  (Father) Frank Pavone

feministsforlife.org

studentsforlife.org

sbaprolife.org

Lila Rose at liveaction.org

Abby Johnson, Planned Parenthood clinic director turned pro-life at abbyj.com

operationrescue.org

sistersoflife.org

Dogs, the Horror

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In 2020, my son acquired his long awaited first pet, a six-week-old puppy. He wanted to bring it over to our house. We were horrified. My husband figured if we ever wanted to see our son, we would have to let him bring the dog.

I don’t like dogs.

I am afraid of dogs.

I know nothing about dogs.

I awaited the arrival of this creature called “Mochi” with a tinge of excitement but mostly fear and horror.

When “she” arrived, she was cute enough, but what a fireball of energy!!! Jumping, running, wanting to play and bite. Everything was new and exciting. She was an exhausting furry whirlwind. I was fearing for my life!

Along with Mochi came two huge bags of dog “necessities” such as toys, blankets, food, a potty training bell, which I didn’t even know existed. It was just like when I had to lug my infant triplets over to someone’s house with all their paraphernalia. And when my youngest arrived on the scene we had to drag along her green plastic rocking horse, or let’s just say, we would not have had a pleasant time.

This dog was just like a baby, or even worse! More work than three babies at once! It required CONSTANT attention until luckily it took a BRIEF nap under my laundry basket, which momentarily confined it.

The puppy also needed to be trained. To go potty OUTSIDE (when she pressed the bell with her paw), to sit, stay, lie down and most importantly, not to bite! As I observed my son initiating the training process, I was struck by the simplicity of it. Do this, in other words obey, and you are rewarded. It didn’t take much thought. Just please the guy in charge and life is good.

Since it was 2020, it was during the scamdemic and I noticed training the dog was a lot like people in those days (and unfortunately some still in 2025). People behaved just like dogs! How many didn’t think at all and just obeyed? Do this or that and you will be rewarded. Hey you get to live!

Maybe.

It was pretty scary to watch humans give up their freedom, thoughts and opinions for “free stuff” or for a perceived reward. Living to please whoever they thought was in charge. Conditioned, just like a dog. (Remember good old Pavlov’s dogs? The basis for the theory of classical conditioning in psychology.)

Even with the dog we sometimes say the word “treat” to manipulate its behavior and don’t pan out with the treat. During the scam people were lied to and manipulated.

Apparently it was so much easier for most people to be told to “sit”. Just sit in your house and don’t leave. “Stay” 6 feet apart. “Lie down” all your freedoms and opinions. Then you might get a treat. Pathetic.

The dog also has a crate (aka “cage”) for times when it needs to chill, be punished or be confined when the humans leave so it doesn’t get into trouble. When you say “go home” to the dog, it knows to go inside there. It obeys, because after all that is what the owner wants. I have observed that dogs like it in the cage and feel safe and secure in there. Kind of like how people are told to swaddle their infants in a blanket for security.

This is not unlike people during the scamdemic. They willingly stayed in their cages, oops, homes, during the scam and felt secure there. Seeming to think death would pass them over because they were obedient.

Humans are lucky. We have the gift of knowledge, a brain and higher thought processes than an animal. Yet we so often waste this gift.

I watched in horror as most people just shut down their brains and lives during the scamdemic. No one had to comply with that insanity or lock themselves up. If no one had, things would have turned out quite differently.

Humans have choices and opportunities. A dog has no choice, he is basically a slave, at the mercy of his owner. During the scamdemic, people became slaves to the government and evil tyrants by their own choice or inaction.

We have FREEDOM. We should not take this for granted and preserve it at all costs, even unto death!

I observed a lot of people acquired dogs or other new pets during the scamdemic. (Perhaps they got so much government handout money they were able to afford it.) The people across the street got two dogs. My son later obtained a second dog as well.

This is how people entertained and pacified themselves instead of fighting for freedom? And since their kids were stuck home from school, a new pet was a great way to occupy them. Perks like this made staying home seem more desirable, covering up the tyranny and evil that it actually was.

I am glad my son has his dogs. He always wanted one as a child and loves them dearly and they bring him immeasurable joy. It teaches him how to take care of something and be responsible.

Now, five years later, the dogs have even stolen my heart, which I never thought possible. Life is full of surprises.

But dogs should remain dogs and people should act like free thinking humans, not obedient dogs, no matter what is going on in the world around us.

Baby Mochi going to her new home
Mochi the golden doodle

God’s Children

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“Let the children come to me and do not hinder them.  It is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.”   Mark 10:14

I was reading that Bible passage one day as my children were noisily playing in the room below.  I thought about how the adults wanted to hinder the children from going to Jesus; how sad.  How many times do we hinder ourselves from going to Him?  We are too busy, too afraid, too embarrassed or too proud to need Him, whatever the reason.

But the kingdom of God belongs to children because they are naturally receptive, loving, unburdened by the world’s cares.  When children play, they enter all kinds of worlds we adults no longer know.  We get stuck in our busyness, stress, affluenza, and the kingdom isn’t about any of that.  Interestingly, the next section in the Bible is about the danger of riches!

I mentioned this Bible story to my children and my youngest blurted out, “Me want mama!”  Precisely!  To desire Jesus as much as a child desires mama, because to a child mama is life, just as Jesus is life to all of us.

The Power of Laundry

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I bought a sign for my laundry area at the dollar store recently that reads, “Laundry, sorting out life one load at a time.”  It just spoke to me so I didn’t think twice about grabbing it.  Words of wisdom found at the dollar store!  Hooray!  Laundry truly is a lot like life, isn’t it?  

Don’t we all have many loads at a time to deal with, whether it be laundry or life’s burdens? Don’t we sometimes feel like “throwing in the towel”? (Which would just create more laundry.)

Perhaps sometimes we feel like we are on the spin cycle.  Everything is too much.  We feel like we are getting tossed about, everything moving too fast.  Our lives and minds spinning out of control.  Where is the stop button??  Pull out the plug! 

We have all had times like that.  I feel dizzy just thinking about it.

In life, as with laundry, we have to sort things out.  There are decisions to be made.  Big things like where to work, where to live, how to treat an illness, as well as all the little things on our to-do list, such as what to make for dinner.  So it is with laundry, we must sort the colors or they bleed and we end up with a big, ugly mess, a heap of ruin.  Not looking at all like what we had wanted or hoped.

Mom Moment when
college kids return
home for Christmas.

We wash one load at a time and then it is clean (and maybe put away) but there will always be another load to take its place.  One thing you can be sure of, laundry is certain to pile up again, a healthy sign of life lived.  Laundry doesn’t disappoint, it always returns, like a dear and loyal friend. 

My son played baseball for many years.  I would dread washing his baseball uniform as there were always grass stains to deal with.  I had to find the right stain remover and scrub and scrub and hope for the best.  Life, too, will stain us.  We need to try to scrub away our bad habits and failings. As humans, we all carry the stain of sin.  But Jesus, our Savior, has bled for us and will wash us clean if we ask.  “If we acknowledge our sins, He is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from every wrong-doing.”  (I John 1:9)

Picture the laundry rinse cycle or standing in a refreshing downpour, drenching us and cleansing us.  I have a Precious Moments picture I stitched in my bathroom that says, “He cleansed my soul”.   O how sweet it is.  “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions.  Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.”  (Psalm 51:1-2)  Also words the priest prays during Catholic mass.

Laundry also has to get hung up or dried.  Life often hangs us up. Time passes, clothes become out of style or worn and so do we.  We get wrinkled, physically and figuratively.  We may have to iron out the wrinkles now and then.  Hopefully we won’t get put away like the clothes, or left in a forgotten heap.  

Personally, I don’t mind doing laundry.  Menial tasks are the stuff of ordinary life with their own rhythm and flow.  Plus they are great procrastination tools.   Nothing like vacuuming when I am putting off something else.  But I must admit I was glad when all of my kids were away at college doing their own laundry.  Sorting out the fabric and colors of their own lives.  It is no longer my job. 

In doing a bit of research on laundry, I came across a business called “Life Without Laundry”.   At the top of the website they ask, “Can you imagine a Life Without Laundry?” and then they list services for pick up, delivery, etc. so that you don’t ever have to do your own laundry.

My answer to that is “no thank you”!  I can’t imagine a life without laundry. 

I prefer not to hand over my dirty laundry to someone else.  I will deal with my own loads and relish every minute.  The dirty and the clean.  The wet and the wrinkled.  It is part of my cleansing journey.  It is my load to carry and mine alone.  No one else knows how to sort out the fabric of my life. 

So my advice is to appreciate those loads of laundry piling up, for you never know what treasures you may find.  People have been known to find money in their pockets they have forgotten about. My son once got a new phone because I washed and ruined the one he left in his pants pocket!

I think I will go hunt down some laundry now!  What about you?

Here’s a snippet of inspo I found along the way:

https://www.loyolapress.com/catholic-resources/liturgical-year/lent/ash-wednesday/life-laundry/

Wait!  There’s more!  Here are some tips for your laundry day pleasure!

https://tide.com/en-us/how-to-wash-clothes/how-to-remove-stains

https://assets.ctfassets.net/ajjw8wywicb3/1nid5bL6SmTJiy0ACpJZ9c/66ab4c2f45f25d8e5171c90205f79cb0/Tide-Your-Guide-to-Decoding-Laundry-Symbols.pdf

If Not Now, When?

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As a mother and wife, I have heard the words, “Not now” or “I’ll do it later” far too often.  It drives me crazy because when I ask someone to do something, that is when I want it done, not at a future time (or more likely, never). 

I have a note jotted in frustration from 2012 while in the thick of raising four children.  It says:  ‘Not now’ is the answer to a lot of things around here! “Do your homework”.  Not now.  “Try on these pants I bought you.”  Not now.  To the husband, “Let’s just relax for a while.”  Not now.  Well if not now, WHEN??

I am reminded of Bartleby’s famous words “I would prefer not to” from the book Bartleby, the Scrivener by Herman Melville.  Bartleby remains expressionless as he responds, “I would prefer not to” to basically everything he is asked to do at work.  This is about the only thing I remember from college English and literature classes.  It struck a nerve.

I can’t help but wonder what God thinks when we don’t do what He asks.  I’ve heard it said He will find somebody else.  I think of that when I see many of my ideas taken flight by other people. 

It took me 40 years, like the Israelites wandering around in the desert, to finally get around to doing some more writing.  I always felt a nagging sense that is what I needed to be doing.  Saying “I would prefer not to” to the master of the universe isn’t a good idea.  The ramifications are a lot worse than not taking out the garbage when asked, or not trying on those pants!

When I was younger, I would get so bent out of shape trying to discern God’s will for my life.  As if it were a one-time decision.  I couldn’t come up with anything that felt right (except maybe writing) and many doors were slammed shut in my face.  I still think I may have made the wrong decision when I was offered a newspaper writing job after high school and didn’t accept it.  I have always wondered what direction my life would have taken if I had.  I feel like I am living my “Plan B” because I missed that particular opportunity.  But who knows, I only have the present.  The past is gone and the future is not guaranteed.

Now being able to look back over the years, I think we have many purposes throughout our lives. God’s will is a continuous journey with many twists and turns along the way.  Many times I think I didn’t even realize a lot of the things I was doing were actually God’s will for that time or at the very least, laying the groundwork for the future.

For instance, I worked as a preschool teacher for a time, but only looking back realized it was part of the path God had for me because I ended up raising triplets plus a fourth child.  That time spent working with preschoolers prepared me for my vocation of motherhood.  I was able to use the skills I had developed to run my household.  Triplet babies needed a schedule, if for no other reason than my sanity.  We had meals, craft time, nap time, outside time, music time, story time.  I had an entire repertoire of crafts and activities at my fingertips.  I was ready for the challenge!

Sometimes even the waiting is part of God’s plan, because His timing is perfect, which I learned battling infertility.  Also, sometimes God has to prepare the other people that will be involved in our fulfilling His will.  There’s so much behind the scenes that we don’t know or may never know. 

All these situations in life take time, patience and trust that we are exactly where God wants us to be at that moment, even if it seems like nothing is happening.  Joyce Meyer, whose ministry helped me a lot during my infertility days, likes to say “Learn how to enjoy where you are on the way to where you’re going.”  That is another way of saying, live in the present.  

So how do we become motivated and get things done sooner rather than later?  After my 40 years of desert wandering, I am the last one to ask. 

First, I think we have to want something bad enough.  Also, we need to conquer fears that may be holding us back.  Deadlines are my best motivator.  Now that my days on earth are obviously numbered, I feel more like I better get to writing if I don’t want to stand at the Pearly gates (which I just learned is derived from Revelation 21:21)  and have to say to God, “I was going to do it….later”.  I more and more want to be able to say, “I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith.”  2 Tim. 4:7

So what is it you have been putting off?  Don’t put it off for 40 years like I did.  Whether it’s pursuing a career, improving your health, learning how to play an instrument, re-uniting with someone you are estranged from, whatever it is, there is no time like the present and that is why it’s fittingly called the “present”.

The present is a gift, to ourselves and those around us, if we accept it and not let it sit idle. We should treasure and celebrate the present.  If not NOW, when??

Book:  The Present:  The Gift that Makes you Happier and More Successful at Work and in Life, Today!  by Spencer Johnson

https://www.lifehack.org/articles/communication/21-instant-ways-to-live-in-the-moment.html

Take No Offense

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I wonder what happened to the common phrase I heard throughout my childhood, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.”  Seeing how youth come out of universities these days, it should be taught on every college campus.  Instead, academia is raising “snowflakes”.  Young people who can’t tolerate an opinion different from their own or without feeling threatened or triggered.

Everything offends them.  Well, maybe not all of them, but dare I say, the majority of them.  I can tell a recent college graduate a mile away.  My own children have not come out unscathed. College students are taught they need “safe spaces” to survive any slight or difference of opinion.  These are rooms or places they can go to when they feel “offended”.  There they can cuddle stuffed animals, pound on playdough, color, and most importantly, cry.   There are even specific cry rooms at some universities.  I thought “cry rooms” were for babies at churches.  I was also surprised to find some schools literally have a facebook group of places to go cry, complete with maps.   “Places to cry at CWRU” is one such example.

One problem with all of this is that it promotes victim mentality.  They are the victims and the other person or group is the perpetrator.  This can also be seen in our government, justice system and even churches.  It also prevents kids from growing up and makes them less able to solve problems in the real world.  Playing the victim becomes an easy way out of responsibility and a way to gain attention, or get what you want.  It can also foster moral superiority.   

Of course sometimes a person truly is a victim of a crime or abuse, but I’m not talking about physical safety here, which every human being deserves at all times.  Obviously no one should be throwing “sticks or stones”, or even worse, at anyone.  And students with real and serious mental health issues should definitely seek help.  But a lot of this is sheer nonsense.  Things have gone too far.  Everyone is offended with everything.  It has become a way to control how others think, speak, act and feel.  This is NOT appropriate. 

Unfortunately, universities pay staff excessive salaries to promote this kind of garbage and more.  They encourage the notion that any discomfort cannot be tolerated, yet life is uncomfortable sometimes.  Growing into an adult isn’t all fun and games, there is some pain involved.  Pain and discomfort is necessary for growth, and that goes for all of us.

College is supposed to be about learning, about interacting with all kinds of other viewpoints, about preparing for your future career.  Thinking, discussing, debating helps you learn and grow.  It helps you understand where someone else is coming from, and perhaps even results in reformulating your own opinions.  It is NOT to demand that everyone should think and speak the same way or according to some current cultural agenda.  Freedom of speech must be protected at all costs, even if it makes some uncomfortable.

Instead of arming kids with confidence to go out into the world and slay the giants, they are taught the giants are trying to slay them! However, isn’t that what the current cultural agenda wants?  To create as many weak, dependent, unquestioning followers because then they can be controlled.  Dumb the kids down and make them weaker, not stronger, all in the name of some delusion of equity.  

So where has sanity gone?  Is it hiding in the cry room??  I don’t think so. The Bible states, “And then many will be offended, will betray one another, and will hate one another.  Then many false prophets will rise up and deceive many.  And because lawlessness will abound the love of many will grow cold.  But he who endures to the end shall be saved.”  (Matt. 24:10-13 NKJV)  

It’s not just the college kids that get offended either.  I see plenty of adults who get offended at the slightest thing.  Either adults are getting touchier or maybe they are learning the wrong things from their offspring.  Whatever happened to turn the other cheek, kill them with kindness, forgiveness, telling someone calmly how you feel, or just ignoring someone or walking away if you are offended or don’t like something?

We can all benefit from being less touchy.  Certainly we can always try to fine-tune our behavior, treat everyone with respect, love your neighbor as yourself, be kinder, but victim mentality has become all too common everywhere you look, and it’s doing far more harm than good.

So if you are offended by this article, perhaps you need to go find a safe space or cry room and let the rest of society live their lives, the good, the bad and the ugly, the insults, wounds and bruises.  Because that is how we all learn and grow, and even heal. Not by playing the victim or hiding in a cry closet.   

Personally, I’d rather run into the loving arms of Jesus as my safe space.  How about you?       

If you are the parent of a college student or soon-to-be one, check out:

http://campusreform.org

http://thecollegefix.com

You will learn a lot about what is going on these days. Choose wisely!

60 Jars of Pickles – An Alzheimer’s Tribute

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One of the saddest, most heart-wrenching experiences I have had was watching my grandmother, and then my mother, descend into the abyss of Alzheimer’s Disease.  Both came from Europe as immigrants in the 1950’s with only the clothes on their back, to find a better life.  

My mother’s childhood during the war consisted of fleeing from bombs, hiding Jews on their property and later becoming refugees.  Their lives were filled with fear and hardship and I did not escape unscathed.  My mother always wanted her story to be told, but I am sorry now that I know so little of it. 

I vividly remember the first time I realized my mother had Alzheimer’s.   We went shopping and she was trying on some clothes.  She tried the same clothes on over and over and over again, cheerily asking me how they looked each time.  It was then that I realized, she doesn’t remember at all that she tried these clothes on before.  We could have been there all day.  All the times where the ugly Alzheimer’s was there but I hadn’t realized it yet, came flooding back to me. The notes of where to meet me at the mall, getting lost when trying to take the bus, inability to read or work on a craft project, it was all there staring me in the face.

I reported to my brother that it seems obvious that mom has Alzheimer’s just like grandma, who was still alive and completely bedridden.  He was in denial and didn’t believe it at first.  That was rough too.  As a child I was always told my grandmother was “forgetful.”   Alzheimer’s wasn’t mentioned then, it was referred to as hardening of the arteries and just a normal part of getting old.  I thought what a horrible thing it was to become old!

As time went on, I noticed mail would be returned, either because my mother did not add postage or address the envelope properly, or because the check inside to pay a bill was written in complete gibberish.  She would say with the saddest puppy dog face, “I made a mistake, didn’t I?”  As a result, I cannot write a check without scouring over it a dozen times to make sure it is correct.

Then there was the time she told me to take her to the bank.  She told the teller she needed to withdraw $2,000.  My father wanted her to.  The teller was arguing with her and I found out she did not have that amount of money in the account.  The teller was looking at us like we were trying to pull something.  I am lucky she didn’t call security.  I tried to explain to her that my mom has a problem, painful to do with her standing right there, plus the teller didn’t seem to believe me and the whole experience was humiliating.

At my parents’ house I would find all kinds of crazy things, like plates stacked together wet, with mold in between.  The silverware in the drawer was unsorted in a big heap and my mom got violently angry at me when I noticed.  Now, every day when I put away the clean silverware, I think about my mother and try to sort them as quickly as possible telling myself, phew, I am still able to do this and in record time!  Maybe the Alzheimer’s ghost hasn’t come for me yet.

Another time I wandered into my parents’ basement pantry and found endless jars of pickles and spaghetti sauce.  I counted them……..60 jars of pickles, and about as many of spaghetti sauce!  I was devastated and felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.  It became apparent that every time the neighbor lady took my mother shopping, she didn’t know what to buy so always bought pickles and spaghetti sauce.  Sadder yet, is when the neighbor stopped taking her shopping altogether. 

Throughout all of this, I would see her lose friend after friend and most of the relatives stopped visiting.  No one wanted to interact with a shell of a person they once knew, not even me.  The depth and intensity of the sadness of all of this is indescribable.  I did not have the best relationship with my mom, but to see someone you once knew become so completely helpless and unrecognizable was sheer anguish.

I always feel I should have done more, but what?  My father also had health issues and was incapable of taking care of his wife and my brother moved out of state.  I, myself, was the mother of triplets and then another child 2 years later, so my involvement was quite restricted.  The solution became to hire a live-in caregiver.   I still sometimes have guilt about all of this, especially since my mom devoted her life to taking care of her own mother, but that is just the way things played out.  

In the end stages, when my mother stopped recognizing who I was, it was the worst feeling and sadly, I don’t think she ever fully realized she had four grandchildren.  I have a few photos of her with my kids when they were babies, but she looks wretched and it scares all of us to look at them.  There is one photo, however, of when my youngest was born and we brought her over to meet my parents for the first time.  We placed the baby next to my mom and she reached out her frail, weathered hand to gently touch her granddaughter’s face.  I have this photo framed because it reminds me that even when you don’t seem to have any kind of mind left, you can still instinctively reach out to another human being in love.

This all causes me to wonder how God deals with us when our minds are gone and we can no longer pray or acknowledge Him.  Are we in some other realm where He is more present?  Are we waiting to be birthed into the next life like an infant in the womb?  Does God just interact with the heart?  Do other people have to step in for us?  Your mind and memories are who you are.  Without them you are just a breathing blob of body.  People would try to comfort me by telling me the sense of hearing is the last to go and so my mother could still hear…….I had to cling to that, although I was not good at speaking loving words.

Shortly before she died in a nursing home, she spoke to me, which was rare at this point.  She was trying to get out of the bed and told me she “was going home”.  I didn’t know which home she really meant, but turns out God did take her home not too long after that.  I can only hope she is now made whole and that a cure for this mind-robbing disease be found quickly.

Dedicated to my grandmother, Anna and my mother, Elizabeth.

Resource: https://www.alz.org/

The Swing

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I used to always say, “Mother feels best when everyone’s in the nest.”  Well, nowadays the nest has been mostly empty which is mostly good, but there are still lots of times when I am restless and worry about all of my “birdies”.

My youngest used to sit on the backyard swing for hours at a time.  She helped her dad rebuild the swing section of the outdoor play set because she has loved to swing and rock since Day One, plus these days she likes to build things and use power tools. When she was little, she had a green plastic rocking horse we had to take everywhere she went for the first few years of her life until she no longer fit on it.  Now, swinging is still her comfort but also her thinking and alone time (and even sing-on-the-swing time).

It would often aggravate me how much time she would spend out on that swing, even in the cold and rain, even during her college summers.  But recently when I looked at that swing from my kitchen window, I was sad to see it sitting idle and I thought of the song, “Puff the Magic Dragon” by Peter, Paul and Mary and it melted me to tears.  How I wished she was still sitting out there.  Memories of days gone by flooded over me.

Jackie Paper, the boy in the song, visits Puff the Magic Dragon by the sea and they have imaginary adventures together until one day, “Jackie Paper came no more”.  He grew up.  The dragon was sad, just like this mama.  But alas, as necessary, I did my job. 

Mama may feel best when everyone is in the nest, but they can’t stay there. There is an entire world to explore. They fly away as they should. 

By the looks of that empty swing, it appears my youngest birdie has successfully flown out of the nest, soon to graduate from college.  It’s a bittersweet time that moves me to tears and emotion as I write this.  But all mamas have been there, in the land of Honah Lee, just like Puff. 

Kites

St. Patrick’s Day, 2009

Today I learned that people are fragile, just like kites. Easily torn and broken.

It was an unseasonably warm, almost spring kind of day. The wind was fairly strong, as is typical in March. My youngest daughter, who seemed to have a flair for physics, had been constructing homemade kites out of tissue paper, popsicle sticks and tin foil. Her artistic side added beautiful ribbons and bows for tails, but the kites didn’t really fly all too well, even when she stood on the picnic table to help them along. So alas, I journeyed to the store in search of kites.

I found some colorful kites of varying shapes and sizes in the toy department at the store, and my four kids were excited to try them out right away. Unfortunately, we were so impatient we made the mistake of trying to fly them in front of the house where there were lots of trees.

My youngest had the grand idea of flying her kite while riding her bike. That turned into a big tangled mess in the bike spokes, chain and handlebars resulting in her crying and running into the house.

Meanwhile, one of her older sisters and my son were doing a pretty good job navigating their kites around the trees, when my other daughter got hers stuck so badly in the tree that it took a ladder and a pole saw to chop off the entire branch the kite was stuck in! And so another child ran into the house crying!

What a nightmare it was! I was left feeling like the worst ogre mother in the universe because needless to say, I was not taking all of this very well. Who knew kites could provoke so much emotion!

Just like kites, life can become a tangled mess. We can easily become torn and broken. We can get stuck, waiting for someone to rescue us like a kite out of a tree. We must hold the kite tightly to anchor it or it will blow off into the wind like a loose balloon with no destiny.

So the question becomes, what is our anchor when life gets all tangled up and messy? Is it in Christ who holds us tightly if we let Him? Or do we run to something else that is not lasting or another flawed human who cannot possibly fill all our needs?

With a lot of patience and no obstructions, a kite will soar and fly beautifully, but that can only happen if it is anchored in someone’s skilled hand.

To this day, many years later, I still feel sad about how badly I handled that March day. It didn’t turn out all happy and delightful like the song, “Let’s Go Fly a Kite” in the movie Mary Poppins, but it is important to learn from our mistakes and move on and fly high, just like kites are supposed to do.

God’s Opportunities

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“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”

Matthew 7:7

When my son was a little boy he would find money almost everywhere he went. He even had a small collection of foreign coins. Part of the reason was that he was looking! He looked under store shelves, in vending machines, in the dirt and sand at playgrounds. Sometimes he didn’t even have to look very far, money was on the ground right in front of him!

One day I noticed his piggy-bank was full of pennies and I said, “See how all those pennies add up.” He responded, “I know, I know.” Guess I wasn’t telling him anything new, but the incident made me realize I had found many pennies in my life but I had stopped picking them up. Suddenly those pennies reflected the lost opportunities in my life. How sad to think I could have not only been a bit richer financially, but more importantly, richer in opportunities.

I now pick up those pennies and let them remind me to take the opportunities that come along in life. I encourage you to do the same. And as for my son, not surprisingly, he now has a job in finance!

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