Finding my Footing

Every move feels like a climb.
A long, slow, exhausting climb.
Dragging my whole family, and all of our worldly goods behind us.

The move itself usually goes pretty smoothly...after all, we've done this a few times, and know what to expect (the unexpected!!), so we're prepared, for the most part, when things happen.

The sequence of events is something like this:
We get orders, usually about six months before the expected move, and start preparations.

I start dumping things...things that have accumulated because of where we are (the snow shovels from Montana would NOT be needed in Virginia Beach!), things that have accumulated because of how long we have been in one place (the stuff expands to fill the space available...NO we do NOT need 11 bicycles!!), and all the papers.  So. Many. Papers.

We plan the date for the movers to come evaluate the household goods.

We plan the date for the movers to come pack the household goods.

We pack beloved things that we fear may be broken (or stolen!) to carry in our personal vehicles.

We plan the clothes we'll need for the transition period, until our household goods are delivered.

With the last move, there was the extra step of preparing the house to sell, and selling it.

We get the vehicles ready for the long drive.

We gather medical records and school records and veterinary records.

The movers come and pack the household goods.

We pack all of the rest of it into our personal vehicles, and stuff the children and the dog in there, too.

Somewhere in the midst of this, Jason is checking out of his command, there are farewell parties, and dinners, and last-minute get-togethers.

And suddenly, it is all over, and we are driving out of the town/city we have grown to love, and are off to a new adventure in a new place.

For a little while, the new is good...there is excitement about new schools, and new jobs, and figuring out a new house, and a new community, and finding a new church.

Then the reality of the newness really sinks in, and every one of us starts to miss the friends left behind, and the feeling of familiarity that helped us feel comfortable in the area, and suddenly the new is hard.

And the hard doesn't go away, and there is no way to make it easier.  Making new friends, and finding one's way around a new community, and learning cultural expectations in a new place are always a process, and they just have to be lived through.  There is no skipping over them.  So, everyone just keeps going, and keeps doing, and tries to make the best of the hard, dark middle, recognizing that there WILL be light...hopefully sooner, rather than later.

And then one day, after months of climbing, and slipping, and sometimes falling, suddenly we find ourselves getting to an easier part of the climb.  We can see light.  We have friends again.  We have found our way around town (without the GPS!).  We know how to get to the grocery store, and the mall, and the doctor, and the dentist...and we realize that the climb has gotten easier, and we can actually see something besides the trail in front of us.

And this is when we find our footing again.  For myself, for a lot of this past year, I have felt like the whole climb has been up a muddy, slippery slope, and I just couldn't get a grip, or find any toe-holds.  This part of the climb has been spent staving off depression, and loneliness, and anxiety.  Feeling unsure of my footing, or of my future, left me fearful and served to emphasize other difficulties we were experiencing at the same time.

Now, I can feel the fog lifting, and I can see the horizon.  I look down, and I find solid places to put my feet, and I know that the climb has been worth it, and we are coming out the other side...stronger, steadier, and hopefully growing through this long, hard climb.

Responding to Failure

I have been sorting things in the garage. It's a mess out there, and it's terribly tiring work. I'm finding all kinds of interesting stuff. I'm going through boxes of papers, and running my shredder like crazy.


I'm also finding things that I am keeping...and sitting down to read every once in a while, remembering. Honestly, this is the most tiring part of the sorting...because emotional baggage is tiring.


As you know, if you've read here for a while, Jason and I have been through a LOT. Rather, I should rephrase...GOD has brought us through a lot. Some of it has been pretty ugly. We've made bad decisions. We've attempted to do the right thing. I've talked too much about the things that we've done...unfortunately, I'm not done with it. But that is not what I want to cover here.


What I want to cover is how the church responds when other Christians make bad decisions, give in to temptation, and otherwise fail to live up to what we're supposed to be. In other words, when Christians act like the sinners we really ARE...


Let's face it, every time this discussion comes up, we'd all like to say that we are exempt from temptation...that *I* won't be the one who makes bad financial decisions, cheats on my spouse, breaks the law, etc. Realistically, we KNOW that we are just as susceptible as the next guy or gal, but we tend to bury our heads, or adopt the attitude of "ignore it and it will go away."


Then, when someone else fails, how do we respond?


We've heard a LOT of terrible responses from Christian brothers and sisters who should have known better. A lot of people in churches seem to react to others' failures by kicking the hurting person while they are already at a very low point. Even church leaders have been known to do this.


Scripturally, I believe this is the wrong response.

Romans 12:2 Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.
Romans 12:9a Love must be sincere.
Romans 12:10 Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.
Romans 12:13 Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality.
Romans 12:15 Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.

Paul is building on a theme here, that people that are Christ's followers are supposed to be DIFFERENT. We are not only changed on the outside, but also on the inside. We are supposed to respond to people lovingly, rejoicing with those who rejoice, and mourning with those who are mourning. EVEN when they are mourning a bad decision that they have made. When they are mourning their sins.

So, my take on this is just that...my take....and here it is.

The Family of the Church is a HOSPITAL for hurting people. We welcome and look for people who are hurting, because we have something to give them. We have THE source of all healing. We have access to the Great Physician. He is the one who can heal all of the hurting people.

Every member of this HUGE Family is at some stage in their own personal healing process. We've all be hurt and are convalescing. NONE of us are beyond that. NO ONE is completely healed.

We tend to forget that we ARE still healing after we've been doing this Christianity thing for a while. We forget that we WERE hurting a LOT more....that we have been there in the past...and that there is a possibility of each of us falling back into it again.

AND, because we forget where we've been in the past, we are VERY hard on our brothers and sisters who are hurting right now. We expect THEM to be perfect. We forget to extend the grace to them that has been extended to us.

We have a responsibility to NOT respond that way. We have a RESPONSIBILITY to respond like we HAVE been changed. To extend grace, loving our HUGE extended Family the way that we want to be loved. To be who Christ called us to be.

Is it worth it?

I used to think I understood a little about home decorating. I even thought I wanted to be an interior designer. I don't think that I did too shabby with what we have.

Then I started watching those shows. You know the ones...where ordinary people beg for the assistance of the "professionals" to get their houses up to par in this housing market. Or they just want their family room or bedroom to look "finished" and they can't figure out what to do with it.

I started getting ideas. I started to feel discontent with the home and material goods that God has generously given to us.

I LOVE to watch HGTV. I drool over home makeovers. I get jealous of all those people who are being helped with their decorating nightmares.

Yes, I know, I shouldn't take all those TV shows to heart... but I do. I have caught myself recently rethinking why we are living in military housing instead of buying a house. I dream of being able to fix up or tear out when I so desire.

In a word, I am discontent.

Though I KNOW this is wrong, I wallow in it. I enter the contests to win the houses (though I have yet to figure out how we'd pay the property taxes or homeowner's insurance...).

So, tonight, I am again asking God for help to kick this new little addiction of mine. HGTV will have to wait. I have other, much more important things to do...like taking care of the family He has given me, and being the wife He wants me to be to the wonderful husband He gave me, and learning to know Him more...

"Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content:" Phil. 4:11

Livin' With Myself

I don't know about anyone else, but for me, there are days when being the loving wife, good mom and Christian I want to be is close to impossible. Today just happens to be one of those days.



I'm at the point in my cycle where I am emotional and questioning everything about my relationship with my husband, my friends, and the rest of my family...and especially questioning where I am with God. During this time, everything is weighed in the balances of my emotions, and EVERYTHING comes out wanting.



I KNOW I am loved...by my kids, by my husband, by my God. I know all of this.



I know that I am doing what I am supposed to do...taking care of my children, my house, my work...spending time with my husband, working on building our relationship. Spending time with my God, learning to know Him better. Growing to be a better person.



This time of the month, though, I doubt it all. I do not feel loved. I second guess everything I am doing. I feel alone. I wonder if I am headed back to depression.

I have to be reminded, over and over again that I AM where I am supposed to be, that I AM loved, that I DO belong, and that I DO have a future and a hope.

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

Steps in the Journey

I have been a Christian for just over 27 years. I was 11 when I said the prayer (yeah, you do the math! ). In my naive thoughts, my life was supposed to be easy. No struggles. No battling with sin. After all, I was a Christian. That meant that the path was all laid out for me, and would be easy to find, and easier to follow. Boy, was I mistaken. As a teen, I struggled, as do most teens, with rebellion in some form or another. I also struggled with depression. I was in a very legalistic church, and struggled with obeying the many rules, and with the path my life would take. We didn't belong there...we were WAY different. My parents expected us to go to college...very few of my friends even graduated from high school. College was good, but it was also hard. I was going to Bible College, and there were so many different people there...with different backgrounds, and different beliefs. I learned a lot. I grew a lot. I learned that there IS good Christian life without the abundance of legalism. I met my husband! When we were dating, my struggles changed. My friends and my family didn't like my boyfriend. They didn't like him as my fiance, either. My parents liked him a LOT less as my husband, and it got worse as we had children, and our finances got tighter. I struggled with depression, and with burn-out from my time in Bible College, the stress of working full-time, and trying to make ends meet. We spent 4 long years not speaking to my parents. We dealt with job changes, moves, car accidents, a miscarriage, a run-in with DSS, and a church that just didn't quiet "get" us. Did I mention the depression? It was part of everything...just there in the background....kind of "mood music." Then my husband had an affair. The kids and I moved in with my brother. My husband repented. I was overjoyed, and very apprehensive. This time, it was his family that wouldn't talk to us. My husband moved home. We decided that this would be a good time for him to try to go active duty in the Navy. He had been a reservist for a year, and we needed him to have a good, full-time job...one that would support us. Oh, and the depression was getting worse. We moved to Texas after he finished A-school in Mississippi. I learned a lot about Navy life. I homeschooled 2 of our children, and had another beautiful little girl 1 week before his ship deployed. I was the Ombudsman, so I was BUSY...too busy to think about ME. Life in a homeschooling house, with 5 children, one of whom is less than 6 months old, is CRAZY. Add in dealing with the drama that is ship-life...that summer was FULL. Finances were always a problem...as were the cars. I was still dealing with the depression, and I hadn't yet learned how to trust my husband again. When that beautiful little girl was 18 months old, and I was 5 months pregnant with the next, we moved to Montana. That was a LONG drive! Two adults (one pregnant), 5 children, 2 cars, driving from south Texas to Montana...a 33 hour drive, according to Mapquest. We stopped off with some friends in the northern part of TX....only 14 hours into our trip. We stopped in Cheyenne, WY, for a night. We were supposed to make it all the way to our destination in MT the next day. One of the cars died in a tiny little town in Wyoming. We spent the night there, and bought a van...a 1988 conversion van...a V-8, running on 6....burning gas like there was no tomorrow. Somehow we limped into town, having spent our last $2.64 on gas. We had no money for the motel, dinner, gas. We knew no one. Fortunately, one of the guys from the reserve center where hubby was going rescued us. Life in Montana was hard. Hubby was at a tiny command...with 8 active duty, and about 100 reservists. Very little in the way of support for the family of the active duty. We found a great church, and got involved quickly. I was still homeschooling, and jumped right into the homeschool community. The kids were involved in AWANA. I was involved in the women's ministry. Hubby ran sound at church, and was involved in the men's ministry. We went to couples' retreats. I was depressed...more than ever. I tried counseling. I still couldn't figure out how to trust hubby. I felt like there was something terribly wrong with our relationship, and neither one of us could figure out what it was. Hubby decided it was him, and told me that he was moving out. He filed for divorce. My depression hit an all-time low. Our pastor referred me to a Biblical counselor. That counselor was a God-send...literally. God used him to turn around our marriage. I have learned to trust again. My walk with God is back on track. We were in counseling for just over a year. During that time, we learned to enjoy each other again...dates, having fun together. We also got new orders....we were moving back to the East Coast! Yippee! And fear....what would we do without our counselor? We graduated... ...and moved to Virginia. Hubby is still in Montana for another week, or so....but things are still on track. God has been SO good! He restored our marriage. He has provided for us in ways we never expected! Oh, and He took away the depression! For the first time in 20ish years, I am NOT depressed! I am amazed at all of the things that God has brought me though in the 27 years I've walked with Him. Each new turn is another adventure...definitely never a boring minute!