tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30021605102998751842024-03-13T15:00:14.534-05:00Rocks In The WasherWasher Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.comBlogger418125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-36829862123135647022020-01-24T16:01:00.001-06:002020-01-24T16:01:45.782-06:00It's the little things that matter...<br />
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I ate lunch at a popular sandwich shop this week and love to
people watch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I’m one of
those.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reading people’s body language,
demeanor – it fascinates me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I was
watching these two ladies, obviously good friends chatting away over
lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When they were done, they both
got up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of them took her plastic
tray and trash and disposed of it while the other just left hers on the table.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-egJIZ10Q80U/XitpPcdr1JI/AAAAAAAADwU/ACEwl0fZ_acTAKDbAjuWomRYS6fLz9zuACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Little%2BThings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-egJIZ10Q80U/XitpPcdr1JI/AAAAAAAADwU/ACEwl0fZ_acTAKDbAjuWomRYS6fLz9zuACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Little%2BThings.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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From my window view, I watched the lady who didn’t clean up
her “stuff” slide into her black BMW and drive off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat and stared at the tray and trash,
seeing a few other dirty tables around me, but knowing it was noon hour and the
workers never caught many breaks as the line was consistent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually one of them would make the rounds,
wipe tables and clean up this ladies trash.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My take on this was one that I’ve been emphasizing to my
daughter lately – it’s the little things in life. Like routine of making her
bead, opening her window blinds come morning right down to brushing teeth and
hair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some mornings I feel like a nag –
so we had a chat that if she can’t do the little routine things with joy and
without being constantly told – eventually on a job, she won’t do the little
necessary things either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes life
is routine and those things just need to be done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s those small things that grow into life
lessons and reflect work ethic as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve seen this in many settings before, some people are the “cleaners”
and some just leave a mess behind them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some have said messy people are more creative.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like to think I have a creative side, and
yes, I have messes in places in my life – but I also love order and
cleanliness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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It takes effort to do the little things in life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Often people that do them go unnoticed or
appreciated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The role of parents can be
this way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In trying not to raise
entitled children – we ask them to learn to do those little things, growing to
larger things, that teach responsibility and grow to maturity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes it works – sometimes it doesn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But we try.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So as I put away the trash….I’m grateful for parents that taught
me the little things matter in life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-6814493002724116932020-01-02T14:11:00.001-06:002020-01-02T14:13:00.621-06:00<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>My word for 2020 is JOY.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="yiv6887725580MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #1d2228; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;">So many people pursue this not knowing that true joy is not purchased at the mall or on Amazon. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;">Joy isn’t a trophy you can hang on a shelf or a car parked in your garage. You’re not going to find it in designer clothes, the latest fad diets or title you carry – </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">it’s how you LIVE. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s what you value and how you feel. It’s going through hard times and choosing to keep your chin up. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="yiv6887725580MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #1d2228; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s the impact you make on others. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="yiv6887725580MsoNormal" style="background: white; color: #1d2228; font-size: 13px;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s giving love even when it’s hard.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That joy you’re searching so hard for? You’re just looking in all the wrong places. It’s not found in SOMEONE ELSE'S life. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s right in front of you. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s the mess you’ve cleaned for the fiftieth time.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s the kids laughing in the living room.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.3333px;">It's the "I love you" snap from your adulting kids. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.3333px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.3333px;">It's fighting T1D along with your child, teaching them Joy despite their disease. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.3333px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.3333px;">It's loving the addict you can't save.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s building a life together no matter how messy and chaotic.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s fighting for your marriage through the not so great times only to emerge on the other side stronger than ever.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It’s getting up through tired eyes knowing that today you get one more day on this earth.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Joy isn’t a destination, it’s a state of being. A conscious mindset of being grateful every single day. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Is it always easy? No. Choose it anyway. Every single day. My goal for 2020. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-size: 11.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Choose Joy.</b></span></span></div>
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Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-13070273167418434442019-09-03T10:11:00.001-05:002019-09-16T15:40:42.690-05:00<br />
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<b>Be the Corn Stalk in the Soy Bean Field</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jnHFde33O0g/XW6ChWQZ--I/AAAAAAAADu8/6UztKI9wWUcG5UM7qlrqv8vXZtbM3QFhwCLcBGAs/s1600/Corn%2BStalk.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jnHFde33O0g/XW6ChWQZ--I/AAAAAAAADu8/6UztKI9wWUcG5UM7qlrqv8vXZtbM3QFhwCLcBGAs/s400/Corn%2BStalk.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
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So – I’ve been driving by these pristine fields of soy beans
– all even, weed free – beautifully smooth to the OCD person they’d give joy,
uniform plants, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Same with the corn
fields – tall evenly spaced, same height fields.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then….there is the one field, sparse places,
some beautiful even sections, but some areas with random corn stalks growing
tall out of the soy beans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s given me
lots to ponder as I do my little country commute to work.</div>
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.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So, my first thoughts are like this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dear daughter of mine, who is struggling with
the start of school, managing her newly diagnosed T1 Diabetes amid learning
delays and peer issues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve shown her
this field and said:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“See that corn
stalk – be the corn stalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stand tall,
bear your corn cob proudly amid the many soy beans around you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Walk your walk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Be proud. Different is Ok.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Sometimes I <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>honesty wish
she’d “blend” and “be like all the others – just fit in more” – have those tribes
of friends that let you play and not turn you away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Have a posse of gals calling, coming to
play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other weekend a random gal
showed up to play on a Saturday – we had plans to leave, but I threw them away
recognizing the importance of this newer friend coming to play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was nice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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I have to realize,
her destiny God given path is being that corn stalk in a soy bean world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finding those that embrace her anyways, lifts
my heart and gives me hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the days
she comes home from school with tales of sadness, I just hold up my corn stalk
with support of love to bear against the winds that try to blow her down.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In a society of norms – different scares folks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it is that difference we need to look at,
live with and embrace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It takes more work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It isn’t easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It makes us squirm sometimes. Did God know
she’d need parents like us?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gave her
to us to help her walk this path the best we can. Who knows what else lies ahead?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time will tell – it always does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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So – dear corn stalk – hang in there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You will not be wanted at soy bean harvest
time, but there is a season for corn harvest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> In our season of life you are cherished, loved and wanted greatly! </span></div>
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May we all find our season and embrace it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">To everything (turn,
turn, turn)<br />
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)<br />
And a time to every purpose, under heaven<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">A time to be born, a
time to die<br />
A time to plant, a time to reap<br />
A time to kill, a time to heal<br />
A time to laugh, a time to weep<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">To everything (turn,
turn, turn)<br />
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)<br />
And a time to every purpose, under heaven<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">A time to build up, a
time to break down<br />
A time to dance, a time to mourn<br />
A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">To everything (turn,
turn, turn)<br />
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)<br />
And a time to every purpose, under heaven<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">A time of love, a time
of hate<br />
A time of war, a time of peace<br />
A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">To everything (turn,
turn, turn)<br />
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)<br />
And a time to every purpose, under heaven<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">A time to gain, a time
to lose<br />
A time to rend, a time to sew<br />
A time for love, a time for hate<br />
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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By Peter Seeger<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-18818957538538525982019-04-03T15:05:00.000-05:002019-04-08T08:37:26.382-05:00Instant Family Emotions<br />
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This weekend we watched the movie“Instant Family.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh yah – I had tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a well-done movie, definitely Hollywood with non-realities – but also some very REAL lines about fostering and adopting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Phew – stirred up memories and feelings
galore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> (will be awhile until I can muster courage to see "Ben is Back" or "Unplanned.")</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Scenes we’ve lived really hit home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Given we are down to one in the home now – with
our new found peace we’ve learned to embrace and cherish – some scenes rattled
me to the core.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On top of it we received
a call from a prior foster child seeking information – but wasn’t 18 years old
yet so we can’t return the call out of respect for the adoptive parents as well
as reminding ourselves of our kiddos who’ve pursued bio parents/information and
the turmoil that can create. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My emotions
are a little tender right now.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The movie ended with the “happily ever after” theme – but the
struggles don’t just go away and love doesn’t remove the abuse scars and
learning disabilities that carry on into adulthood which can lead to addictions,
relationship issues and other problems – when un-dealt with these continue to wreak
havoc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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The boys are turning that corner right now and I’m so proud
of what they are working hard to overcome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Adulting is hard work….we remain active in their lives, feeding them
often and having many moments of laughter and pulling out our hair all at
once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: "segoe ui emoji" , sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol-ext; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji";">😊</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Did you know that there is a stronger link between childhood
trauma and addiction, than there is between obesity and diabetes?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two thirds of addicts report being abused as
children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That means that the war on
drugs is really a war on traumatized people that just need help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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We’ve learned new parenting lows and highs through our
ongoing journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even when my “babies”
are 21 and 22 – I’m still mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m still
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love deeply and try to help
without enabling. We continue to say “I love you, just not all your actions.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lately its also been expressing that we are
proud of some of them for fighting against addiction, turning their lives
around and getting jobs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Adulthood doesn’t
come easy for many – it is harder when you’ve dragons and beasts from your past
effecting how you can even move forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Empathy has grown as we’ve experienced yet more parenting lows we never
thought possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Our faith community holds us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At times, not knowing how to talk to us or
even relate – but we know they mean well and love us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Faith in Jesus holds us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve weathered some storms and if the waters
calm – we’ll take that and glide.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rediscovering
ourselves, regenerating our relationship as husband and wife – being able to
give more to the little at home….and back to ourselves is a wonderful feeling
for now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time to reflect, learn from
past mistakes – find new wisdom on ongoing challenges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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We journey on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-85894366441969291542019-02-01T12:20:00.000-06:002019-02-15T10:42:06.287-06:002019 <br />
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2019 is off to an interesting start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The boys are doing “better” per say, getting
some maturity shining through and dealing with things in their lives on the
legal end and personal end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I feel
HOPE there.<o:p></o:p></div>
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C has asked that we not be in her life in 2019.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel deep sadness on
choices here that no one but God can reach. I’m not sure who wrote this – but I
found this and it rings true “<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">You cannot suffer the past or the future
because they don’t exist. What you are suffering is your memory and your
imagination.”</i></b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nails it right on.
I’ll just leave that right there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Little is doing good – growing and not so little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Guiding through life’s challenges of bullies,
how others perceive her with her learning disability and the social issues she
faces as a result.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I struggle to tone down my Mama Bear instincts, the fight in me is real. </span>Growing waters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Busy with Ballet/Tap, Swim, Piano, Church and
Volleyball keep us and her hopping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Full
life.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
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So 2019 – give it your best shot!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hoping for more joy in regular moments, more
recovery and learning to let go.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-86653388707039350242019-01-18T14:28:00.001-06:002019-01-18T14:33:53.366-06:00Stuck and Letting Go<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">We have this leaf that has been “stuck” for weeks in the crack of the sidewalk - symbolic in so many ways! No matter the wind, it doesn’t get free. We’ve watched it struggle- like a child. Sometimes no matter how much wind around, one can’t get free and fly until one chooses to be free. Would it have a better life if I freed it? Or would it get stuck again someplace else? I’m leaving this leaf to it’s free will. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><b><i>1 Peter 2:16 “Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but for living as servants of God.”</i></b> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">That’s it.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-41329886417852354552018-08-21T17:24:00.001-05:002018-08-21T17:24:14.484-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We all wait in life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some wait for a cure to cancer/healing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some wait for life in a barren womb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Some wait for a spouse. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some wait
for relief from depression. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some wait
for rest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some wait for peace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some wait for joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some wait for rehabilitation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Some wait for the saving of a child.<o:p></o:p></div>
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That is me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is
us. Pluralize it to “children.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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We know God is faithful and hears our prayers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That he is good and loves us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But lets get real here too – he allows pain,
he allows war, sickness, sadness, addictions and so much more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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When I pray – do I pray for unrealistic expectations?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because the answers are short on coming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh – there it is, me asking and expecting….not
waiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I am an impatient
person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There, I’ve said it and admit it
and own it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I still BELIEVE and have
a strong faith in God – so I don’t mean to be impatient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I am.<o:p></o:p></div>
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God delivers in his timing – so my trust needs to
remain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This road is long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recently I told a father who watched in awe at
all the normal developmental things his child did, “it goes fast – it isn’t a
lie.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So why can’t this road go
fast?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want the ending….the happily
ever after ending….<o:p></o:p></div>
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I want to tell God “look, you’ve grown us way more that we
thought possible – so let’s just take a remission here, right now.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel like Charlie Brown with Lucy holding
the football – we go running up, ready for a life touchdown – but swoosh – God
pulls the football away like Lucy and we land on our backs staring at the sky
wondering why this happened again.</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ll just say, right now I’m feeling on top for getting to a
50/50 percentage on my kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Given one
is only 11 – reality is I’m at 33.3%. Of what you ask?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In launching them to responsible, decent
adulthood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not God serving – yet, but more
self sufficient, employed and legal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadness
hits me as I realize those words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But….I
have to find my joy where I can, so I’m sticking with it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m waiting on the Lord, not allowing these trials to seep
into a bitterness or hopelessness of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’ll let you know, that isn’t easy. I heard myself actually giving God 4
years to get the job done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tought stuff
especially when 50% of your kiddos are sitting in jail and it could easily be
75%!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lived those days of sadness. Some
days are still very sad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes in
the dark walk I’d try bargaining and bribing – but that doesn’t work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So God lifts me and holds me and continues to
help me to rely on his strength, not my own, but His to carry me on this walk.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Some days I marvel that I can even hold my head up in the
community I live in (yes I’ve thought about moving!) – but let me tell you –
humble pie is my main meal in life these days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>God has taught me things I never wanted to learn for sure and in that is
a walk of being able to hear other parents pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are not alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many don’t talk of it, many hide it – but I
find freedom with my God in owning it and sharing it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It isn’t a path I chose – it is the path God
leads me on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I think it won’t end –
and I have said that so many times, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
feel the love of my church family reaching me, lifting me – the deacon that
calls, the Pastor who learns about prison visits for the first time, they are
walking with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It takes courage to
keep going, but what choice do I have?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
made of strong Mennonite stuff with a faith embedded from the trials of
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Walk on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you are reading this and struggling – know
you too can do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><i>Psalm 27:14 “Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and he
shall strengthen thine heart, wait, I say, on the Lord.”</i></b><o:p></o:p></div>
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So when you see me next time….know, my odds just got better
today – but I’m still waiting on the jackpot. We might have a mudslide again,
but we’ll take the hands that hold out to us, pull our selves up and keep
waiting on the Lord.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-84927923118987471322018-05-17T12:35:00.002-05:002018-05-17T12:35:41.237-05:00Self Care. It's Time.<div class="MsoNormal">
My hubby and I have been working on short and long term goals. We’ve a few.
One other thing as we’ve processed the grief of older teens leaving home
and a smaller home base, and our accident and recovery from the drunk driver
who hit us back in March with a stolen vehicle…..we need to focus on ourselves
a little. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Parents are notorious (or should be?) for sacrificing
oneself for the good of the kids/family all too often. We in no way plan to neglect our last in the nest,
but we do plan to take better care of ourselves physically and emotionally so
we can be the best parents to her as well.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In the hustle of raising the first crew that has left the
mother ship, we often did sacrifice things for ourselves more than we probably
should have. So now is our time. Not to embrace selfishness – but to embrace
self-love for the health of ALL of us.
Phew, this may be harder than I thought, but also exciting to recover
ourselves a little.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So, the lists are being made….cups are going to get
filled. I may have to say “no” still –
but for the right reason of self recovery from a long journey that I’m still
resting from. I have to stop the horse
from running home, like I did when I was a teen riding with my Dad and he
taught me the horses want to run home, but don’t let them….hold them back. He was right and it was a training thing for
life as well. Sometimes I over-involve
because I’m “back” feeling good and ready to put my energy to use all over the
place….so I’m going to work on pulling back the reins and going home slower….savor
the little moments and find myself in a better place. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">I’m ready for this journey now. </span>Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-36629733382270239752018-05-11T10:04:00.001-05:002018-05-11T10:04:58.019-05:00Pain at Graduation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fmAvLheuSIQ/WvWwzPGhPrI/AAAAAAAADok/FQPXHpwY91Q_HcK5DO48ErKUusL_7XgYwCLcBGAs/s1600/big0545202019.jpg.jpg.CROP.promo-xlarge2.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="1180" height="228" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fmAvLheuSIQ/WvWwzPGhPrI/AAAAAAAADok/FQPXHpwY91Q_HcK5DO48ErKUusL_7XgYwCLcBGAs/s320/big0545202019.jpg.jpg.CROP.promo-xlarge2.jpg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The reception room was cancelled long ago.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The caters cancelled long ago.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The new decorations themed “Oh the Places You’ll Go” are
boxed and stored. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Tervis Dr Suess cup I’d ordered as her gift, I drink from
myself with “Oh the Places You’ll Go” on it and I do it to torture myself –
sipping my water thinking of all the places she can’t go and won’t go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sarcasm seeps into me and I want to cite “Oh
the people you’ve screwed” in my best Dr Suess voice.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Clearly this season holds pain for me and my husband as the grad
invites rolled in – we are happy for those that we’ll support on this special
day – but the pain of it isn’t lost on us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Disappointment seeps through me – we can’t force our kids to
do anything once they turn 18.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are
free in their choices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sucks when they
then play the victim and blame others for their choices….no one wins, no one
wins.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Like the Kindergartners who site their career goals – I hear
the memories of dreams not achieved as life goes on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We tried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We gave it our best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God created
us to have a will and a choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She’s
made hers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, I’ll watch with some inner agony – it’s just another day….right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can make it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="background: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><b>Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind
don't matter and those who matter don't mind. ~ Dr Suess</b></span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-13697746970089845232018-05-07T14:45:00.002-05:002018-05-07T14:46:31.670-05:00It Feels Okay....<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was reading an article, trying to get my brain to grasp
onto things and find that peace / healing I need in our adoption journey to
date, especially of the older ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think
if feels at times for me that we give and give – expecting a positive result
that doesn’t and can’t come.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Patterns we
desire to break – don’t seem to be breaking but falling to genetics of
generations, giving us a sadness that our journey of change didn’t imprint as
much as we’d hoped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Learning to stop at
times and find ways to fill our cups and restore ourselves has had to become a
priority or we’ll have nothing good left for the last in the nest.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She, little who isn’t little anymore, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>is growing up and struggling with her realm of
the changed family – siblings gone, she misses them and the activity they
brought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One came to support her in her
piano recital – that was so nice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I
see the bonds there and holding which gives me hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe it is taking joy in more baby steps
when I want those longer strides and testing my patience to see the smaller
miracles.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we’ve watched with ongoing surprise and not surprise, the
phones ring, the problems continue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
they reach for us – they know we are strong and there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Collect calls from the prison jail, while
they find humorous, saddens me but reassures me they know who to call.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe they needed my voice to know I’m still
there, the Mom that raised them and feels she can scold them yet loves them so
unconditionally despite it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I found
a message that said “Dear kids, Sorry I yell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In my defense, you were acting like a bunch of psychos.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So true…..<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just in the time of typing this a son called to let me know
of more law altercations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remind him
it might be time to find new friends. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, I won’t bond out his friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>**sigh**<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And a quick more to a new place with no appliances – not thought out –
yah for garage sale season saving the weekend on a fridge and stove score!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Spring is moving quickly to warm summer temps – I’m planting
my pots with lovely flowers that give me joy yet make me miss my “Oma” and visiting
the home farm to see my Mom’s flowers as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My genetics are there too – ones I embrace and am not happy with – we are
creatures of history, genetics and patterns that follow us in life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hard times are consistently here it seems, but so is Jesus
Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need to hold to my faith and
know that this journey is one he walks with us and gives us strength, refills
our cups and leads us on into that unknown future. We’ve set some new home
short and long term goals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One day at a
time, one journey at a time– meanwhile, the grief of the older ones departing
is replacing with a gentle peace breeze and we are settling into our new
dynamics of a family of 3 in the house – and it feels okay…..yes, it feels okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-66057631043258825752018-03-06T22:09:00.003-06:002018-03-06T22:12:19.746-06:00Beauty Where Are You?<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sit alone here at my PC and the urge to purge takes
over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alienated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel so alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tonight we went to support our daughter in a grade school
Bingo event – winning the “grand” prize for The Alley in laser tag and other
fun…..winning to the point we shouldn’t have declared BINGO anymore – but to
the delight of our 10 year old we made a haul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Free kids meals and ice cream are in our future.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She is tucked in for the night, my husband goes to get his
rest as he rises incredibly too early for me to even ponder getting out of bed,
hence I sit here alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Feeling the
weight of my life.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I thought 16 years of infertility was hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is a joke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was the easiest part of our marriage as
I look back now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Parenting isn’t for
sissies or the weak – yet I’m feeling very weak right now.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The older three – all making choices that have left us in a
kind of SHOCK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What happened to our
family?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We adopted them to SAVE them
from their very roots that got them in the foster system – so the pain of feeling
them RETURN to those life choices is very real.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We thought with church, family closeness, prayers at meal times around a
table <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- they were destined for good
futures breaking the veins of their history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh, I’ve been deceived and the shock is wearing me
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friends and people around me
don’t know what to say and they’ve pulled away, I feel it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I dread the “how are you” because I always
feel like being truthful – but people can’t handle the truth usually.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, vaping, blunts, sex, high school
drop out, promiscuity, crimes – it’s all there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Blatantly in front of me and I’ll be honest, I don’t know what to
do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing obviously because the older
three are all 18 plus and owning their lives away from us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One runs constantly, back and forth like a
yo-yo. One moved out – no money, no job – but heh…..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other is laying low after we asked him
to leave – robbing us and wracking up the legal charges in the judicial
system.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All three have had court visits
since the first of the year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fines with
little ways to pay it – but heh, the cell phones keep going – can’t lose
Snapchat! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So this is what God planned for them?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God – I’m mad at you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m angry and don’t even care to attend
church anymore – what is the point?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To
listen to sermons and teachings that don’t get lived out?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It just hurts….they ask for sharing – hah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m so tired of the “sorrow” of the angst of
these years……I don’t want to be that person who shares this crap life my
children are embracing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It hurts too much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ironically I teach 7<sup>th</sup> and 8<sup>th</sup>
graders.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I look at them and think….no
one knows the direction they will go – my kids were here too….oh the hope they
held at that age.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember the social worker that declared we were her only
success story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Proud of that – oh, pride
has fallen….the “success” is gone and the pain is so real to watch them fall
down and down…..two of them joined the church and even got baptized for pete
sake……so ridiculous now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why I cry out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember the cry to God for “give me just
one child!” and the whys of not birthing our children – but the joy in the
journey of adoption recognizing God’s plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oh, what a bad joke that I hope is a deep valley with a large climbing
hill to come yet….I feel side swiped in this journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Disillusionment all the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Mom used to always tell me about adoptions
gone wrong – oh, ours wasn’t going to be that way – we’d beat the odds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cynicism is creeping in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I used to look at families who adopted with such
great joy – now I look at them and think “hope yours don’t end up on paths like
ours!” and I fear for them…..watching and remember the days of diapers and
youth sports knowing we had no clue of what was to come and they don’t
either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I’ll mark myself late for work and go show up to sit at
court – supporting in sadness the choices of one on the run, to see if he’ll do
the right thing or whether a warrant for his arrest will be apart of this
journey yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trials aren’t over –
but the heart doesn’t stop loving despite their poor choices, and thus the pain
of this parenting journey goes on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How many people are out there, hiding their pain, pretending
like they have it together when they don’t?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m real – I’m honest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it
still doesn’t make it any easier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The 10 year old sleeps peacefully now – we’ve one more to
keep moving with, despite the strains of the older three – keeping it together
despite the brokenness that surrounds us – finding beauty in each new day is
the challenge I face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ironically I’m an optimistic
person….but that is getting harder to maintain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Beauty of life – oh where are you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will keep searching…..for the glimpses are
what keeps me going. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><b><i>Lament is a cry of belief in a good God, a God who has His ear to our hearts, a God who transfigures the ugly into beauty. ~ Ann Voskamp</i></b></b></div>
<b>
</b>Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-67245394202171711072018-02-12T23:41:00.002-06:002018-02-13T22:25:13.604-06:00It's Late<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s late, I sit alone at the kitchen table browsing through
social media waiting. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The back door finally opens and in he comes. My mind glimpses to the 2 year old full of
energy now before me as a young handsome man of 20. Where did the years go? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He peruses the kitchen looking for food and settles on Life
cereal. As he pours his milk he joins me
at the kitchen table that holds the memories of this family born of adoption,
smaller now in size with the departure of struggling young teens finding their
way to their own.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He’s in a good mood tonight, conversation flows as we talk –
he is rude, funny and we agree and argue.
A low rumble comes down the hall and he asks “is that dad snoring?” I reply, “yes.” We chuckle softly together. He teases me that I’m his decaying
parent. He is right – life is moving on quickly. He talks of goals and history past. His social media buzzes while he downs a second
bowl of Life cereal, then gets up to find more snacks. A leftover garlic biscuit, three small fruit
snacks from his sister’s school stash.
He sits down with them and says “I love these things” and organizes them
by color offering me a blue one. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As he heads off for bed, I can hear him below chatting with
his friends yet…..he’ll do this awhile. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I sit and analyze this time we shared, I realize he is slowly
finding maturity….and yet I will always see that 2 year old grin of a child
long gone whom I yearn for some do-overs for.
Mourning and sadness wash over me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then peace comes slowly as I embrace the cycle of life and wonder what
adulthood will look like for him and pray we’ll be around to see it. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-46029033810352185372017-11-10T14:15:00.000-06:002017-11-10T16:35:59.164-06:00StrengthSometimes, strength is gently<br />
letting go of things and watching<br />
them float away in the wind. <span style="font-size: large;"> </span><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Better Man Project</span></i><br />
<br />
We've released two of our children - so many emotions. But, it is a good thing. It is a needed thing. We pray they fly......float on down and be well.<br />
<br />
And with this adjustment comes some peace, finding once again ourselves lost in the layers we've held to for our sanity and safe keeping. Giving back 10 fold to the two yet in the home, finding a joy within that can come out to play now, that was held so close. Learning to laugh again so hard that it feels foreign and to know it is a good thing for it's return.<br />
<br />
As I sat listening to the newest pianist play the keys in the house, a sense of contentment filled me....how long it lasts, it floats away with every new challenge that rises, but I tasted my old friend and welcome it back. I know it will return again. It is still there, waiting as the waters rise and we go again.<br />
<br />
Ah, life...swift and strong we move along. Around and round we go....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>Maybe</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>Sometimes</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>We cling to the things</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>That make us bleed</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>Because we'd rather</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>Feel the pain</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>In the familiar</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>Than the peace</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>In the unknown.</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
M.M.</div>
Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-71143141376855410152017-11-01T13:44:00.001-05:002017-11-01T13:44:56.792-05:00FleeWhy must you flee<br />
Why can't you stay<br />
Why not try harder<br />
To live a safe way?<br />
<br />
Why must you flee<br />
Why can't you pray<br />
Why not live scripture<br />
To help you to stay?<br />
<br />
Why must you flee<br />
Why can't you see<br />
Why not let us help you<br />
To healthier be?<br />
<br />
Why must you flee<br />
Why can't your pain heal<br />
Why not give in<br />
To a warm consistent meal?<br />
<br />
Why must you flee<br />
Why can't you breathe<br />
Why not plant roots<br />
To a love you won't grieve?<br />
<br />
Why must you flee<br />
Why can't staying help<br />
Why not listen deeply<br />
To a home you have felt?<br />
<br />
Why must you flee<br />
Why can't the running stop<br />
Why not sit still<br />
To a love you can't top?<br />
<br />
Why must you flee?<br />
Flee.<br />
<br />
©<br />
<br />
<br />Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-2103645578906199502017-10-10T09:38:00.000-05:002017-10-11T15:09:56.053-05:00May The Lord Keep You...<div class="MsoNormal">
Our eldest daughter, embracing her “I’m 18 and you can’t
control me” ran off with a guy she’d met on Snapchat but had never physically met
– to live her life, hours away from us, dropping out of her senior year with
only 2 months to go…..to run away once more….pursuing her life the way she
thinks she wants, to a small town with a population of 400…..because he told her he
had a ring….and to run is easier that to serve the ISS she received for
cyberbullying a good friend of hers and finish school. Which only lasted one night then she ran again, next fix someplace else, on the run forever more......lost and lonely because she won't listen or accept or get the help she needs. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our parental pain is one of sadness like a loss you can’t
ever find closure to. This isn’t what we’d
hoped or dreamed, but we did sign up for it. My self pity goes like this: I’ll no longer hear
her laughter at my bad jokes, no companion to do those mother/daughter things, no
winter formal or prom dress shopping, no choral concerts to attend, no graduation
to dream and prepare, just a voided emptiness where once a high school senior
existed. No hugs. No too many things to
list…. Many milestones not achieved from basics of drivers or a job – it just
didn’t come together.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, my husband who seems to be handling this better than me
this time, reminded me we have unconventional children – things don’t often go
as planned, their journey is unique from others, they don’t follow the common
path. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We have loved. We
have stood even through the worst of times and we stand still. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Many suffer. We suffer. While I
want to understand, I don’t. The face of
mental illness is real – I see so many depressed children – as a society we don’t
have the answers yet or the plans to help.
1 in 5 are affected by mental illness each year. It is hard to get them to accept the help
they need. Especially when they are 18
and “in control” yet so out of control.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
A close friend recently sent me this reminder - it had to be from the 90's and I loved her memory as it grounded me once again: <i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> I </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">remember years ago you and I were sitting on the bleachers at a softball game, and you told me you and Steve were looking into fostering to adopt. You also told me that you were looking at it as a mission to help save some children from bad childhoods. You said you knew you'd get children with problems but that was what went with fostering children. You have certainly accomplished this mission in the older three and Sophia is still a work in progress. Your kids have had a great childhood but they don't yet realize nor appreciate all that. Most kids don't really appreciate a good childhood until they become parents.</span></i><br />
<br /></div>
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She went on to give me needed advice: <span style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><i>When we first started coming a Pastor Abe preached a sermon on parents should not blame themselves if their grown children make decisions the parents didn't like because when the children become adults they are responsible for their own decisions. He said something like that and it made me think how we can tell the kids what's right and wrong but in the end they make their own decisions and they have to live with those decisions. </i></span><i style="background-color: white; font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Parenting isn't easy and we can only do the best that we can. You have been great parents and the kids have wonderful experiences to reflect back on. We are praying for you and your family. "With God nothing is impossible." God's timing is never wrong. We'll keep praying and expect great things!</i><br />
<br />
So. We journey on. We
remain in our mission. We wish her well
and that she knows we will always be who we are, here for her as her adoptive
parents only wanting the best for her….so…I lift up this blessing and prayer…</div>
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<o:p></o:p>Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-26321215714728704162017-10-04T14:45:00.000-05:002017-10-04T14:48:11.625-05:00Life is like a burning fieldLife is like this burning field....<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BrMW8y6y34U/WdU4YteNEoI/AAAAAAAADk4/xqFAmjvBImk-yIkltfUzcYY0ZX5oW3YRwCLcBGAs/s1600/Burning%2BField%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BrMW8y6y34U/WdU4YteNEoI/AAAAAAAADk4/xqFAmjvBImk-yIkltfUzcYY0ZX5oW3YRwCLcBGAs/s320/Burning%2BField%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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You can see the smoke, some of it is greater than the actual fire, </div>
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creating drama for a small amount of a controlled burn. </div>
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That is how I am feeling right now - we have SOO much drama creating SOO much smoke....when the fire is actually small and just a simple douse of good water could make a difference. </div>
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But when you don't have the water, the fire burns out of control, </div>
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moving quickly to consume all that is before it.</div>
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It creates a smoke fog so dense, in driving through it you can't see to the other side.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oLFMDiQZLsc/WdU45-REY_I/AAAAAAAADlA/s7F4Y3GTaSggNBplr5v72VQWb9jXda89QCLcBGAs/s1600/Burning%2BField%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oLFMDiQZLsc/WdU45-REY_I/AAAAAAAADlA/s7F4Y3GTaSggNBplr5v72VQWb9jXda89QCLcBGAs/s320/Burning%2BField%2B1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I drove hoping to find my way safely, scared by the lack of vision and fear of someone coming behind me too quickly or in front of me too slowly. </div>
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The smell of the smoke filling my vehicle with lingering effects.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Lately, this is our life - we are going through the smoke, hoping to find the clearing - but </div>
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the smoke keeps coming. </div>
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Running away daughter (yes again), my Mom has cancer, </div>
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son struggling in college, </div>
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the list keeps growing like the flames of life.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Someday this smoke WILL clear.</div>
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Someday.</div>
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<br /></div>
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So I drive with the guidance of God. Knowing He knows my path.</div>
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He will lead me on to the clearing....</div>
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For this I wait.</div>
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<b><i><br /></i></b></div>
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<b><i>"The Lord will fight for you, you need only to be still."</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Exodus 14:14</i></b></div>
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<br />Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-57334124394262879872017-09-26T12:27:00.001-05:002017-09-26T12:31:48.524-05:00The Boat of Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XWH5xGPa-Q4/WcqNtVtdqjI/AAAAAAAADkg/O3lW-9qjAWwmQ-5kNHQJWdDQ2S98GImMwCLcBGAs/s1600/boat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="413" data-original-width="620" height="213" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XWH5xGPa-Q4/WcqNtVtdqjI/AAAAAAAADkg/O3lW-9qjAWwmQ-5kNHQJWdDQ2S98GImMwCLcBGAs/s320/boat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I recently read this: “No one puts their children in a boat unless
is it safer than the land they are on.”
It moved my mind to push past the many times I wonder why refugees brave
the waters in overloaded boats to die horrible drowning deaths on a gamble to
make it to a new land…..that phrase gives me new understanding.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As we’ve struggled with our foster children we’ve adopted in
these teenager years, I ponder that phrase as I see it in their eyes and
lives. Recently our daughter ran off to
live with her birth mother. 6 weeks
later she returned angry at her birth mother and refusing to speak to her. During this time so much happened, but at one
point my husband and I were able to sit with her birth mother, talk and share
stories and see our shared daughter’s baby/early childhood pictures and realize
we ALL loved her the same. But she was
too alike to her birth mother to be able to live with her and hearing her birth
mother say “she needs you because you are stricter” was the same as she needs
structure….rules….our kind of love. What
a HUGE sacrifice this lady made….she recognized something many birth parents
aren’t able to grasp.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
While I dream that one day she will accept her birth mother and
talk to her again, and be OK with TWO Mom’s….this journey has taken me outside
of my comfort zone as we continue to deal with her lack of self esteem and
ability to recognize true wholesome love from us and her birth mother. The journey isn’t over. The running isn’t done….I pray it will be….but
I can’t control it and have released her to God to watch her when life is too
hard and running is all she knows to do.
No matter how unsafe the boat is – she believes her land is less safe so
she gets in that boat and runs to a near drowning before coming back. It is so
horrifying to watch! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hurt for her pain.
I hurt that she didn’t get the relief she wanted after 8 years of
yearning for her biological family that
the search arrived and she burned those bridges hard as she let loose of 8
years of anger that raged in her being against these people she has blood ties
to. She looked into the face of her
birth mother who was a mirror of herself with only fog around the edges to make
her look different and couldn’t deal with the reality of her own life. Acceptance. She still feels lost no matter
how many life jackets we throw her.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We journey on – sometimes when the stress is high and my
sight fogs over the purpose of this journey we chose, I pray that God will
bring us to the new land together and we journey on in that hope.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Pray for us. That is
the life jacket we need from you! Pray we find new land.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-25442514456082580862017-08-31T12:21:00.002-05:002017-08-31T12:23:23.760-05:00How Does One Begin Again....and Again....?How do we begin again? We aren't the same parents. She isn't the same child. Through some rapid happenings of a missing "child" who is by number not a child, but inside still very much one....we moved quickly to her returning home. It wasn't an easy journey to get here, and the mixed emotions are everywhere for all involved. <br />
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What God showed us is wrapped up nicely in my husband's poem:<br />
<br />
<b>Face of God</b><br />
<br />
Just beyond our ideas<br />
Of right and wrong, there is a field<br />
It's on the edge of kindness<br />
And courage. Like a magnet<br />
It draws the seeker<br />
Like a moth to the light.<br />
It gathers each of us<br />
Like the hen gathers her chicks.<br />
A matrix, where all belong<br />
And all begin to fit<br />
Into the face of God.<br />
When all are gathered<br />
When God pulls us all together<br />
We walk without fear<br />
We live in truth.<br />
Don't be afraid or alone<br />
Come to the field<br />
To the field just beyond<br />
Our ideas of right and wrong<br />
Comfort awaits those that mourn<br />
Comfort in the face of God<br />
Where all belong.<br />
Where all are worthy<br />
Where all are enough.<br />
...don't wait<br />
...come<br />
...complete the face of God.<br />
<br />
cc~Steve Belknap~Author<br />
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<br />Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-84954175310167561452017-08-23T14:42:00.003-05:002017-08-23T14:49:24.707-05:00The Poem of Grief<div class="MsoNormal">
As we move through the 7 stages of grief over the “running
away” of our adoptive daughter, I’ll share a few reflections and thoughts. While I’m “stuck” mostly in the anger phase, I
go back and forth between a few others as well.
For those of you that don’t know them, they are:<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->1.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Shock and Denial (we are way past this one)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->2.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Pain and Guilt (pain, yes, guilt – no we’ve done
our best!).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->3.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Anger and Bargaining (I’m in Anger – no bargaining
here.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->4.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Depression, reflection, (my husband has suffered
the most in this area)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->5.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->The Upward Turn (I think we are close in this)<o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
<!--[if !supportLists]-->6.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Reconstruction & Working through it. (We’ve
made gains here!)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->7.<span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Acceptance and Love (I’m at acceptance but like
to go back to anger too much).<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k-KiZFoieRg/WZ3bNfJsoHI/AAAAAAAADjc/dOsG0sPhelMO5o0vzBA_T9PQDpUiTgwuACEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_3558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k-KiZFoieRg/WZ3bNfJsoHI/AAAAAAAADjc/dOsG0sPhelMO5o0vzBA_T9PQDpUiTgwuACEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_3558.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So my husband shared with me some poetry he’s written as a part of
his grieving process. They showed me his
intense pain in this process that is so different from my walk of processing
this. I’ll share one with you. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Poem of Grief: 08-15<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hope once walked by my side<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Never too far away<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes laughing so hard<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She begins to snort<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Barely able to stop<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then snorts again<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Until my eyes begin to leak<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then hope walked out<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not saying goodbye<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just left<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now in place of hope<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An imaginary friend is there<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Each place I used to see hope<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I now see Despair<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Despair is a close friend too<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But she doesn’t snort<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And she doesn’t laugh<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think She colors<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My days blue<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And sends me waves<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of anxiety<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then holds my hand<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An’ makes my eyes leak too.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> </o:p> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, my friends and strangers – please pray as we still walk
through these waters of reflection. This
death like experience is one that is taking time to overcome as we work to bid
this relationship and loved one farewell. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;">We continue to embrace life around us, the
common thread of hope has emerged – we have hope and faith.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;">As long as there is hope, there is life.</span><span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-37087734808398654342017-08-17T16:36:00.002-05:002017-08-23T14:47:38.769-05:00Dropping off a piece of my heart....<div class="MsoNormal">
Dropping of a piece of my heart…<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Sunday evening we moved my middle son into college. He is the first one to move away “properly”
and first one to pursue an education after High School with a career in
mind. So proud of him on many levels,
but – I didn’t anticipate my heart ache quite so much. We have had a LOT of loss to say the least
this past year, decade, whatever…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, watching my grown up son move off – hit home in the
heart zone. While he isn’t terribly far
– he isn’t right down the stairs, I can’t holler to get up, get a morning or
evening hug as often either. This is his
time – his new path and journey and I’m so glad he has chosen the college he
did and the path he is on. He’s had his
share of challenges, but when he wants something – he works so hard for
it. He’ll have some tough days and weeks
ahead – he knows I’m only a phone call away.
I’m trusting God with this “child” who is a young man, that He will
watch over him and keep him safe.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m hoping as the laundry piles up, that he might feel the
urge to come home….that once in awhile he’ll miss his old folks called Mom
& Dad. But I’m also hoping he’ll
embrace his new community with joy and vigor – making the best memories of
college and making the best of friends as well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How quickly we’ve gone from 4 to 2. Grief with acceptance still overwhelms us on
our daughter who has run off and doesn’t want anything to do with us. However, we rise again – God has gently poked
at our hearts to re-license for foster care.
I’m saying “Whoa God, we need a break – like a big one.” But the nagging is there as He gently prods
us. We are looking into the classes
we’ll have to take because of the years between our license – I think they
could actually be healthy for us to re-take as a way to reconcile our foster to
adopt journey – especially these rough waters we’ve been navigating. So….who knows what or who the future will
bring. We are God’s tools – being open
to him gives us peace and comfort as we trust His will for us – because,
really, He is in control….not us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Putty in his hands….we surrender all. </div>
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<o:p></o:p>Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-9642084719880974842017-07-21T14:38:00.004-05:002017-07-21T14:41:11.437-05:00Revolving Door<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0I_0QraKmoI/WXJVL-EJf9I/AAAAAAAADiY/6ppPoPelmesn9bM5QNETrKPqcFooBi9JQCLcBGAs/s1600/Love%2Bsomeone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="455" data-original-width="600" height="302" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0I_0QraKmoI/WXJVL-EJf9I/AAAAAAAADiY/6ppPoPelmesn9bM5QNETrKPqcFooBi9JQCLcBGAs/s400/Love%2Bsomeone.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That is us today. Our
18 year old daughter, (despite us giving her bio father and full sister into
her life), had a huge desire to find her birth mother – so she planned and
schemed behind our backs, despite everyone warning her not to – she up and left
us with a lousy note to me only after 8 years of being adopted to live with her
bio mom. So, we are back at loss, pain,
anger and grief. This one hit my husband
hard – it hasn’t even been a year since he lost both his parents and this feels
like a death again to him / us - loss.
My best friend sees my pain too – but I just handle it different but
feel angry mostly with my grief. All the “why’s” flooding my mind – Why didn’t
you wait until you’d graduated High School – only 1 more year to go? Why aren’t
we enough for you? Why does this bio mom
deserve another chance knowing what you know and have been told? Why do you
always run away from your problems – every. single. time. ? Just why?
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, our 20 year old came back and moved home. Doing better – committed to finding a job and
getting his life back on track. This warms my heart and gives me joy. We are
committed to helping him, not enabling him.
Revolving door of life. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In our many deep talks, my husband of 34 years and I realize
the journey with adopted children is not for the weak of stomach. That God knew he needed our strength for this
journey. We hope and pray the seeds we’ve
planted will be enough or at least something they will look at and recognize –
we did our best. We aren’t perfect, but
we did what we could given the challenges and tasks at hand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Oh, the guilt and “what if’s” exist – but with the support
around us, we see that we can’t go down that path – our mission was to do this
and love and let them go…..if they come back they still are not ours – they are God’s. We’ve raised them in a Christian home showing them right from
wrong and hoping those messages stick. Setting examples for life that we
hope they’ll “get” as they mature and get out on their own.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So – I believe in the power of prayer – I’ve said it
often - please pray for them all and us. This journey is not an easy one, the road is
bumpy and full of fallen trees blocking our path – but we hike on…<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
C if you are reading this – know we’ve always loved you –
good times and bad and we miss you, grieve for you and hope you find the
happiness you are looking for. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-44006956746956559782017-06-20T09:29:00.002-05:002017-06-20T09:29:45.296-05:00Mission Field of Life continues….<div class="MsoNormal">
Trials abound – stress continues. I have NO fingernails….yes I’m a nail
biter! <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
One son had a bad longboard accident – trip to ER, fractures
and sprains and lots of scabs and swelling/bruising. He’ll be OK – he is healing, it could have
been worse. In the throes of it, honesty
as to how the accident happened was a little evasive and when the truth came
out – a nice grounding was applied. I
understand accidents happen – I just don’t accept lies. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another child lost her cell phone – sexting emails, in
appropriate male contacting – just take it away. A cycle we’ve repeated and tried to gain
trust with that just doesn’t happen. I’m
thinking flip phone. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eldest moved out in anger again – don’t know where he is
exactly. We have contact minimally, he’s
walked away from his job and support – hanging with sketchy people, doing drugs
and living in the moment. The city
detective stopped by looking for him – I can honestly say I don’t know where he
is, he won’t tell me where he is staying.
I worry about one of three calls I may get: 1) he is arrested (then I’ll at least know
where he is and that he is getting three meals a day and not doing drugs! 2) he
is dead or 3) hurt and in the hospital. Trying to get him to go to a half-way house –
but he hasn’t hit bottom yet….so we wait and pray. Not the life we’d hoped for this guy at
all. Makes me incredibly sad and heart
broken. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t think life would turn this way for our adopted
kiddos – we continue to be true to ourselves as parents and followers of Christ
– hoping that our life example may still be seen and heard in their
hearts. Their brokenness doesn’t come
only from their adoption stories, it remains in themselves to find their way as
lost souls – I believe all teens out there struggle with so much more than their
parents even begin to know, whether adopted or not. The world of evil pulls constantly at our
youth. This is the fork in the road that
so many have to choose and for my kiddos – that choice doesn’t come easy it
seems. We’ve raised them right. They know right from wrong. Choice and free will are what they have. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been listening to some good CD’s on parenting again as
I commute – often my daughter says her low self-esteem is my fault. One thing I’ve learned is that self-esteem
comes from the person achieving and accomplishing tasks that builds THEIR
esteem, and no amount of flattery or praise will give them esteem – they make
it through their accomplishments. Like when
a 4-year-old ties their shoes, we praise them – they’ve accomplished an age
appropriate task and take pride and grow esteem from this. But if I’d praise a 14-year-old the same way
for tying shoes, it wouldn’t have the same effect. It is from them achieving success in their
hard tasks of life – rising up to do it, that they grow that esteem. Encouragement to DO those tasks and steps is
what we as parents do in the cheering on to get them to not give up…. sometimes
it happens, sometimes it doesn’t. Having
more open conversations about what has been happening in our home continues –
even the 9-year-old whose ears are large – it is learning from the mistakes and
successes of each kiddo in the house. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Looking forward to vacation to come yet – time to restore my
soul in places I love…. looking ahead to the good, surviving the trenches of
life. I remain optimistic, despite some
serious sadness. But God it in control,
so while I’ve chewed off all my fingernails in stress – I know He guides us and
has that master plan that I believe will still be victorious over sin. I believe.
I have hope. I choose to find joy in the trenches of life. Thankful always for a great partner in life
who we’ll celebrate 34 years of marriage in July, God knew we needed each other
for this mission field of life we continue on. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>Galatians 5:13 “You, my brothers and sisters, were called to
be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one
another humbly in love.” (NIV) </i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-53940254956969610162017-06-06T14:02:00.001-05:002017-06-06T15:12:02.216-05:00Soul Weary<div class="MsoNormal">
I am weary. Soul weary.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The struggles just continue.
I told my son the other day, that God was telling him, like Jonah, to go
to Nineveh and he just refused to listen and was being swallowed by the whale
of life – throwing him up on the shores of sin over and over – but he still
refuses to go to Nineveh. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I repeat – I am weary, soul weary. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
These struggles are real.
For all the “find joy in everything” people who exasperate me with their
happy joy bubbling selves, I wonder if the trials they experience relate more
like a broken fingernail or wrong paint color than to teenager underage
drinking, verbal abuse, domestic battery, porn – the dirty laundry list is long….and
painful. However, I to realize my trial list is nothing compared to those with debilitating health challenges, cancer, death and many other things that make mine look like a broken fingernail!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I rise, I restore my broken soul with agony only a parent’s
heart can hold and pray to God “why did you save my children through the foster
system, only to create these hard times that pull them back to the very life
they were saved from……is it destiny for them?
Why?” It feels cruel. It feels like I failed as a parent. Soul weary.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A friend mentioned my “tough love” and I felt bad that she
viewed me as a tough love Mom. But then
I remind myself, she hasn’t walked this walk.
I will NOT enable my children. They need to own it, we have given grace,
mercy and forgiveness – we do it every day…..natural consequences and parental
discipline is needed more today and I see more children being rude to adults
and their parents than ever. I’ve
noticed with my kiddos, that after a big “err” of their ways / choices, that
when we lay it out for them, they willingly accept it and seem HAPPY, yes I
said HAPPY that we laid down the law. It
is that wall that remains constant for them – the reminder we do care, we will
apply punishment for actions and we remain strong in trying to guide them back
on the right path.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My son waited 5 days before he asked me to sit down that he
had something to tell me. I sat down,
bracing for what was coming…..he shared he got a speeding ticket. He was so relieved – yes he lost keys for a
while, but he understood. We filed for
diversion, it was his first ticket – he told me how scared he was when he got
pulled over and he’d hoped he’d only get a warning. He wasn’t lucky and a whopping $$$ ticket was
awarded to him. But he finally told me
and I could see the relief in his face. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, while some days the weary overtakes – the soul is weary
while the world around me judges. United
with my husband, we soldier on. Never
knowing what our next challenge will be – I have a recurring nightmare of
losing a child. I’ve had it for years
and it is always the same child. Fear
and worry can overtake your dreams too.
I know the sun shines on the other side of the thunder clouds and I take
myself to a happy beach far away some days.
Then I pull up my socks, my faith and my hope and say, there will be a
day that joy comes more than the trials we are facing. Faith carries me on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
My soul needs a spa day – the kind where everything falls
into place and the tapestry of life is complete with joy and fulfillment. I have to accept that I am living a life I’d
never imagined or expected. This is my calling and my journey, despite my
doubts, denials, and fears. As much as I
struggle to know why God allows these hardships in my life, His purpose and
ways are beyond my limited understanding and I trust Him still. My trials draw me closer to Him for comfort
and hope in which I can ultimately serve Him.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-6796439157362328092017-05-05T10:44:00.002-05:002017-05-05T10:46:52.812-05:00Still sliding...<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh the drama. <br />
Still sliding out of school.....all of them....it is C.R.A.Z.Y. <br />
the stuff happening and conversations with our kiddos. <br />
It will end soon and a slower, relaxed, fun<br />
summer pace is what I'm looking forward to. <br />
Pray it comes. <br />
Meanwhile, I shared this with my children as a reminder. <br />
If they could live this, we'd all be OK. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Just be the nice kid.</div>
<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Be the nice kid.</div>
Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3002160510299875184.post-12522645327371033492017-04-20T10:59:00.000-05:002017-04-21T09:01:31.562-05:00Domestic Violence - not what you think...<div class="MsoNormal">
Domestic Violence – the purple ribbon. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3dQhq6SgAj0/WPjaFXjXIAI/AAAAAAAADgU/ppB0UXdgae8OrlD0oz6kekp1c9E4hUN5ACLcB/s1600/puple%2Bribbon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3dQhq6SgAj0/WPjaFXjXIAI/AAAAAAAADgU/ppB0UXdgae8OrlD0oz6kekp1c9E4hUN5ACLcB/s1600/puple%2Bribbon.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Married over 33 years, survived infertility, cancer,
domestic violence. If you, like me think
that happens to OTHER people, and usually the husband beating the wife, classic
alcohol or drugs involved. Let me share a
nasty secret with you – we’ve been living with it in our home for 8 years from
a child of ours.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When we adopted after 16 years of infertility, so happy for
two boys, then 10 years later we added two girls, an infant and 10-year-old. We knew the going would be rougher with the
older daughter, given her past. Our
ideals of “love conquers all” have been dashed, but it hasn’t stopped us from
trying to stop the train either. Mental
health supports up the ying yang, church connections, positive mentors, medication,
psych testing, love, grace, 70x7 – we’ve done it all – reading books, listening
to parenting CD’s….you name it, we’ve battled this demon of violence to the
point we have seriously lost the ability to parent this child. Manipulative, controlling, unwilling to obey
the simplest of parenting requests like “brush your teeth please.”
Nothing. UNLESS she is in the mood. Moods.
We are controlled by them. And
victimized by violence with anger. It sets
off at any time, unknown to us what tiny thing is the tipping point. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Scars on our bodies to show the pain we’ve endured, silently
feeling like failure parents. Verbal abuse abounds on us emotionally as
well. Unable to find any discipline that
works - time outs used, doors off for slamming, consequences for actions – some
natural, some applied when we are able, lost privileges…. Nothing has beat this demon. Christian boarding school – only to be
expelled for – guess what – violence to staff.
This was a turning point for me as I realized it wasn’t just me. I took on so much blame for not being a good
enough Mom. This time, it wasn’t me being
physically hurt – yet emotionally saddened that she continues to harm others
besides us – worry for her future relationships, children…..how do you stop a
moving train?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Studies on RAD, lower brain stem rage, PTSD, we know it – but it
doesn’t stop it. She’s had 10 years of
therapy – she knows WHAT to do, but if you don’t use it – what good is it? The skills knowledge is there for her, she
knows it – but refuses to use it when needed.</div>
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So, welcome 18. She’d
been told what would come if she continued with her ways. A hurt adult, chairs thrown, pictures smashed
and knocked over furniture,….the 911 call that changed her future came. Jail time.
Bond. 72hrs away. Felony or Misdemeanor still to be
determined….court date.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We’ve always had a safety plan for the other children to get
them away when the violence comes. We
try to get away, often trapped or having to intervene to get the others safely
away from harm. They know what to do – where to go. The boys get so angry at her and want to
“get” involved, we’ve remained adamant it doesn’t and can’t involve them – get
away, keep the little one safe. Our youngest cries and doesn’t understand and
this last time cried when she knew she was coming home and wanted to sleep in
our room to feel safe. For one of my
sons, I see the quiet way he deals with his anger, getting back in unhealthy
ways we’ve had to counsel as well. It
isn’t easy on the other children either.
They too are victims. It is hard for
us as parents who are still trying to make a difference!<o:p></o:p></div>
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It hurts when people say to me how they just don’t see
this in her – she is such a sweet nice girl, they “can’t imagine”, implying we
are liars and she doesn’t act that way with them…..walk in my shoes people. It
isn’t just us – we’ve learned this.
History speaks for itself. She won’t just show these demons to
anyone. It is like two or more different
people live inside her….<o:p></o:p></div>
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So, we are committed to seeing her through school. One more
year after this one. She is in this hard
time of spring with year end which causes her such instability. She is confused and doesn’t know what she
wants to do. One day she is running
away, the next day she talks of future events with us. We never know…..but one day, she will fly on
her own and we will restore peace…one day, I pray her demon of violence leaves
her and this last jail stay will be her only jail stay. One day. So, pray with me. I’m so tired of this journey, but I’m
committed despite feeling hopeless and wanting to give up like everyone in her
past did….I find my courage and go again…praying this time, the violence stays
away longer, and longer until it is no more. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Idealistic to the end. John 1:5</div>
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Washer Mom Valhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14703138938126881632noreply@blogger.com0