The end of another decade

As I sit here - hours away from turning 40 Wait, does that really say 40? How? When? What happened to my 30s? Let's see.... a decade ago I was welcoming my 30s as I celebrated being pregnant with our first child. Oh yeah, the kids are where my 30s went. And what a way for them to go. Aiden and Rylee have blessed my life in ways I never could have imagined. They have also challenged me in ways I couldn't imagine. LOL! My 30s are kind of a blur, but that's OK because I can see they must have been pretty good when I look at my children. Someday, I'll have to go back and read that year of blog posts from the middle of my 30s. :) A couple of days ago, I thought I had it all together. I thought that this birthday didn't mean anything special - it was just another day. Now, I'm not so sure. I feel like I should be doing something to celebrate it, but I know it'll be just another Wednesday of laundry, meals, and cleaning. I am more comfortable in my skin than I've ever been before. I'm not thrilled with my weight and size, but it doesn't define me. I am a Christian, a wife, a mother, a business owner. I feel more like I am where I'm supposed to be than I've ever felt before. And yet, I'm still not satisfied. I want more. But I'm not exactly sure what the more is. I've been in an awkward season all year (maybe longer) - trying to obey my Savior, reading, learning, being inspired. I wish I knew where it was all heading. But that isn't the way God works. And I want more than ANYthing to be and do what He wants. I want to put my self aside and fully let Him lead. And yet, I'm not sure I've let go. Maybe that's why I'm restless. I'm fighting my earthly desires to be in control and being disappointed with not being where I want to be as a Christian, wife, mother, business leader. Here's hoping that 40 brings that release, that clarity. Here's to giving it ALL to Him and being His servant. I may not be ready for that number 40, but it's coming whether I like it or not. And I think it's going to bring some really good things...... scary, but good.

My Struggle

Deep breathe! Yeah, this isn't easy to put out into the world like this. Anybody that has followed me before know or have gleaned that I struggle with depression, but I don't think I've ever just laid it out like this. Here goes: My story goes back to my pre-teens. I distinctly remember my mom threatening to kill herself with me being the only other person in the house when I was 12. It was terrifying, and I'll never forget that fear. It wasn't the first time I'd seen my mom's struggle, but it was the first time I got a glimpse of the seriousness of the situation. A few years later, I was almost constantly at odds with my mom. She didn't like my boyfriend. She didn't like my wanting to be on the phone with my friends all the time. And I remember the silliest fights over me taking a shower because I didn't want to do it when she told me to. There was probably some rebellion in me on that one. It was around this time that I experimented with cutting. I was in the shower and used my shaving razor. It burned. I tried a few different times, but I wasn't much for the pain. By the time I got to college, life was a roller coaster with my mom. One minute she would brag about my accomplishments, and another she was chastising me for finishing 9th in my class instead of 7th (thanks foreign language not being my forte) which she blamed on a boyfriend. This was probably when the seeds of self-doubt and inadequacy, planted in high school or earlier, sprouted. There were some serious fights with my mom, and a BIG break-up with my boyfriend of 3 years. After college I moved to NW Arkansas to attend law school. I can't say this was my heart's desire. I didn't have any real direction going into my senior year of college, and Mom always thought I'd be a good lawyer because I liked to argue. A couple of friends were aiming for law school, so I tried and got in. I knew on day 1 that it wasn't for me, and for the life of me I don't know why I stand with it. A lack of skill to study, the distraction of my soon-to-be hubby, and no desire to be an attorney lead to me "failing out". I put that in quotes because failure in law school comes from Cs not Fs....... It's semantics, I know. The year I turned 25 was really my first real bout with depression. I was NOT where I thought I would be in life at this point. I had always thought I'd be married and successful and ready to have babies by 25. I guess 1 out of 3 wasn't bad, but I was a mess - mostly about the successful part. Not only was I not successful, but I didn't have a clue what I wanted to do with my life. My hubby, Joseph, thought I was kinda silly, but he supported me as best he could. A year later, I had started my 3rd job in as many years after quitting a job at the mall and being fired....twice. The new job was a good one with a good company, but I didn't want to be an administrative assistant (fancy title for secretary). It took me years to accept that this job provided me with all the markings of success - a good wage, benefits, perks, great friends. I'd even made it to the top of the fancy title options - Administrative Assistant III. LOL Life was pretty good for a long time. Joseph and I bought a house, started a family (baby boy - Aiden), vacationed, spent time with friends and family, and added to the family (baby girl - Rylee). We were living the American Dream. I was 36 when I had Rylee. I still felt unsettled, and she wasn't as easy of a baby as her big brother. My workplace had been struggling for a while, and the day after I returned from maternity leave, there was a HUGE layoff. The kind of layoff that completely changes the landscape of a company - the upper management and people who had been there for MANY years. Not only was I sad to have left my daughter, but now I'd lost so many of my co-workers AND significantly increased my responsibilities. Around this time Joseph was also having a cancer scare that resulted in surgery on his leg. I had really hoped to put my Scentsy/Velata business on a front burner this particular year, so I could be home with my family. Life had other plans, and I was bummed. That was probably one of my hardest year. I was so unhappy at work, and my hormones went completely haywire after I quit nursing Rylee. There was about one day every month that I felt absolutely crazy. I felt worthless and tired and unappreciated. There were days I thought about suicide because I thought the world would be better without my crazy. A few times Joseph talked me down while I sat in the shower and sobbed for no really good reason. The truth is I'm too chicken to kill myself. I don't like pain or pills. More importantly, I know how badly it hurts for those left behind to deal with the aftermath. I've had friends and family choose that path, and I still struggle with their death. I'll always wonder what more should I/could I have done to help them. My head tells me only they could help themselves, but my heart aches for the ones I've lost and all they are missing out on. A little over 15 months ago, I was laid off from that job. It was my prayers answered, my dreams coming true. Joseph and I decided to sacrifice our savings to paying on debt, so I could stay home to be a wife and mom and run my business. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening! The transition was hard on me. Rylee turned 2 just a few weeks after the layoff, and I was putting a lot of pressure on myself to be perfect. Joseph always reassured me that I didn't have to be so hard on myself, that we were going to be OK on his salary. It took me a LONG time to realize that the rug wasn't going to be pulled out from under me, that I was going to get to stay home, and that nobody expected instant success as a work-at-home-mom. I think I've finally found a rhythm with this life, but it's still hard. Rylee is now 3 and pushes my buttons in the ways only she can. Some days are harder than others (today is one of them). The thing that has helped me the most is reconnecting with Jesus. I found a church that I love last year, and I've begun serving when and where I can. I also make an effort to spend time in His word everyday. I can definitely tell when I'm not spending quality time with my Bible. In all honesty, I've never been diagnosed with depression because I frankly haven't talked to a doctor about my issues. It seems the only answer doctors offer these days is pills, and I am not a a fan of medication (other than ibuprofen) just because they do almost as much harm as good. While I can fight a good fight with my support system and my Savior that is the road I will take. However, I completely understand that other people need medical intervention, and that is best for them. My next step is to share my struggle more openly and more regularly. I want others to see that they aren't alone and to know they that I'm willing to listen. There is a lot of ugly and hurtful things in this world, but there is also a lot of goodness and light. I choose to focus on the light and will spread it as far as the Lord allows.

My girl is 3

It seems like just yesterday that we brought our baby girl home from the hospital, but it's been an incredible 3 years.

She's as spunky and silly and independent as she can be and has plenty of personality and attitude to share.  There is no doubt she tries my patience and wears me out on a daily basis, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Saturday we celebrated with our first trip to Build-A-Bear Worskshop.  She was a whole lot shy (just a whole lot like her big brother), but the staff there was fabulous.  I can't wait to go back!  

After some Jim's Razorback Pizza, purple cupcakes, opening presents, and a nap in the car on the way to pick out a couple of pumpkins, we hit up What-a-burger for dinner.

It was pretty low-key for my high speed girl, but I think she had a good day.

Mommy loves watching you grow, my sweet little punkin.

A simply incredible life

I've spent as much time as possible in the last week reflecting on the life of my Mamaw. At the amazing age of 98 years, 8 months, and 5 days she left her earthly body last Sunday afternoon. I have come to realize that her life was simply incredible. 

 She lived the vast majority of those 98+ years in 2 houses within easy walking distance of each other (like you can see one from the other) - separated by just a small cow pasture, barn, and cattle lot (a fenced area to gather cattle for various purposes, for you non-country folk) - in the tiny town of Locust Grove, Arkansas. 

She didn't have a cell phone, let alone a "smart" one. She watched maybe an hour and a half of TV per day, unless the Razorbacks were playing basketball or there was a country music special. Her house had all the modern conveniences of when it was built in the late 1960s, but there were more dishes washed in the sink than the machine. Who could blame her with this view? 

 When I was young, she had no less than 4 gardens every year and grew THE BEST tomatoes you've ever tasted. Her basement was full of canned veggies and potatoes. Oh, and there was a pool table down there that I'm not sure she ever played on, but us grandkids played many a game on it.

 She didn't travel much. She and my Papaw lived briefly in Pennsylvania in the early 1940s, and she went with him to Houston in 1973 for his heart surgery. She visited her sisters in Mobile, AL; Memphis, TN; and Ft. Smith, AR, occasionally. There were also brief visits to grandkids' homes, mostly for holidays or special occasions, in Arlington, TN; Lonoke, AR; and northwest Arkansas. There were no big vacations, but she enjoyed a few weekend trips to Branson, MO, with family. 

 In her 98 years she knew heartache and loss. Her middle child was born disabled thanks to a bout of German measles during her pregnancy and passed away in 1973. She also lost her parents, her husband of 57 years, all of her siblings, and most of her friends. 

 Although she never finished so much as middle school, both of her surviving children and all 4 grandchildren have college degrees. She helped Papaw run a store, worked at the post office, and owned land and cattle. 

 She was rarely sick. Even in her latter years, her biggest struggle was simple infections. I think her only regular prescription was for high blood pressure, and I'm not even sure she took it with any real regularity. 

I won't say she never complained or made it easy on every one around her because that would be a lie. She was a stubborn and often difficult woman to please. I am saying that hers was not a life of fancy places and things. It was incredible because it was so simple. In this day and age of always wanting bigger and better, she was content with staying where she was and having what she needed. I'm sure there is a lesson there for all of us - to slow down, enjoy what we have, and quit trying to keep up with everyone else. 

 I will always remember a few things about my Mamaw. She loved pink for everything (clothes, flowers, stuffed animals, balloons, etc). She rarely went to bed without putting Vicks Vapo-Rub under and in her nose (it might be an EWWW, but it's true). She adored pockets on shirts and compared helpful people to them ("you're as handy as a pocket on a shirt"). She always had a tissue with her (stuffed in her sleeve if no pocket was handy). She could grow anything (and I've promised my dad to not let Rylee forget). She never served cake or pie (and never a small piece) without offering some ice cream to go with it. 

 Although, I really wasn't very close to her, I have a TON of memories to share with my children over the coming years. She may not have been a "let's bake cookies" kind of grandma, but she was the only grandparent I've had for the last 30 years. I really thought she would live to 100 and beyond, and I will forever be grateful for that last visit I had with her in September. 

 Mamaw, I pray that you have found peace and reunited with all those who have gone before you. Tell Papaw and Eunie and Leone and Vette that I miss them.

Failed......Forgiven

Some of you may have noticed last week that I was excited about leading a discussion group on our current church lesson series called Stay Positive.  

Well, it didn't happen......

Last week I wasn't feeling the best because of "womanly" issues.  I was managing things pretty well, but Friday snuck up on me a little bit.  

I didn't get much response for my discussion group, so I hadn't really prepared as I should.  I decided I was going to proceed even if it was just me and Joseph (maybe that would be better anyway). 

By Friday afternoon I only had one maybe on the event, my house wasn't as clean as I wanted it, and I'd forgotten to plan snacks.  Oh, and I hadn't prepared with the material.  Frankly I wasn't in a positive mood, and Joseph confessed he wasn't either (work is nuts for him right now).  He convinced me to press on that it might be just what we needed.

He even talked a work buddy and his wife (friends of ours) into coming.  They needed to bring their kids, but I made arrangements for Rylee to go to my parents anyway.  This would give the older kids a chance to play without a toddler driving everyone crazy.  We even figured out a few snacks we could serve.

Then I remembered that Aiden's room was a wreck, and I was having serious second thoughts.  Time was not on my side to get it all together.  I got on my knees in tears and prayer asking God what I should do.  I thought leading a group was what He wanted, but it wasn't going well.  Maybe I was wrong.

Then, I remembered a recent blog post from Allison Dalke about being hospitable, even with dirty floors.  I felt I needed to lead this "group".  These were our friends, and this was God's work.  It would be ok.

I hopped up and quickly got Rylee's room picked up. I found a new pet mess in the kitchen floor but didn't let it slow me down.  I told the kids to stay out of there until I finished Aiden's room, and then I'd mop.  Aiden promised to come help me as soon as he finished his homework - such a great kid.

I was making quick progress in Aiden's room and was starting to feel pretty good about all of this.  It wasn't going to be perfect, but it was doable.  It was enough.  

Then, Rylee comes to tell me she has pee in her shoes (that she's carrying).  My first thought is the animals because one of them had spit up on my shoe earlier.  As I'm telling her to put them in the bathroom for me to clean later and to wash her hands, the rest of the story comes out.  She peed in her panties.

I'm shocked.  She hasn't had a big accident in a long time, but there she stands with soaked shorts when I need it the least.  I send her off to the bathroom and sit her on the toilet, so I can clean the mess on the floor by the garage door.  It's not much, and I needed to mop anyway.  While I'm at it, I decided to spot clean the animal messes with the intent to mop after dinner.  This is when I find the huge puddle by the coffee table and the toys..... 

I am so far beyond furious at this point that I want to scream.  So I quit.  I give up.  I throw in the towel.  I am done.  I text as much to Joseph, and he messages our friends.

I cleaned Rylee.  I cleaned the floors.  I made dinner.  I had failed, and I didn't care.  My friend texted to see if I was ok after I cancelled the event on Facebook, and I confessed the devil had won.  And another friend checked on me later, and I told her I'd try again.

I knew I had failed, but I let it go.  Until this morning on the way to church, anyway.  

All of a sudden the fact that I had failed my God again weighed on me.  I got all teary listening to a song on the Christian radio station.  I even told Joseph it was a bad sign I was getting emotional before we even got to church. My heart was sad but grateful knowing He would forgive me.  The real question was would I forgive myself or wallow in my failure.

When we got to church, Joseph and I were the last to sit down after taking the kids to their rooms and getting our coffee.  We took the last two seats on our row.  THE LAST TWO ON THE ROW!!!!  I had to take a pic because I was so happy.  I went in March, added Joseph and his mom in May, added his dad in August, added his cousin in September, and added his brother today.  

As worship began, I felt in my soul that I was doing good.  I was letting my insecurity and fear take over with this group leader thing.  I could try again.  I need to try again.  

So I will try again this week (date and time to be announced later).

Now, I wonder what really happened Friday afternoon.  Was it me letting satan win?  Was God keeping me from what I wasn't ready for?  I don't know the answer.  

The important thing is that God isn't going to let me stay down.  He has plans for me.  I'm excited to show the world all the good He does for me because He does so much good EVERY SINGLE DAY!!

~Heather

Mommy 1st

Some days you just have to stop trying to do it all and take care of yourself, so you can be a good mommy.  Yesterday was that kind of day.

Fall allergies are a pain in this house.  Joseph and I are both struggling, but Aiden seems to have fended his off.  I'm diffusing lemon, lavender, peppermint, and thieves at night which is helping SO much.  

We can totally tell the next morning when I don't use it.

Anyway, this week has been tough with a near constant headache, and yesterday I was also getting hot a nauseous when I tried to do much.  

The football schedule and slower shipping (thanks to BUSY sales) has me behind with work, so I was really trying to get my last spring/summer deliveries done and a catalog party delivered yesterday.  By 12:30, I realized that I just couldn't do it and expect to be well enough to go to Aiden's game that night.

So, you know what?  I put my son first.  I told my customers I wasn't feeling great and was behind, so I needed an extra day.  Nobody complained!  Thank goodness for understanding moms!

I was still feeling pretty yucky after scrblin around to get everybody else homeoworked, fed, dressed, and out the door in time to be at the field by 5:30.  But we made it!!

I got to see Aiden play a lot of the first half, and he was involved in his first tackle.  His team won big!

And you know what?  I felt better during the second half of that game than I'd felt all week. 

The deliveries will get done.  The catalog party will get delivered.  The house will get cleaned.  All in due time.  The important thing yesterday was to be well enough to be there for my son.

~Heather

Washed in the water, Saved by the blood

I'm a few hours late getting to this writing as it was intended to celebrate a special occasion that happened a month ago on the 9th.  LOL!  Oh well, here's the story anyway....

I've always been a believer, but I haven't always been focused or dedicated to my God.  VBS was a must, church not so much when I was a kid.  Then, I was an Easter-Christmas churchgoer.

A little over 20 years ago, I took a bigger step.  I'd been attending church regularly and decided to declare my "Christianity" by joining my church and being baptized.  I even spoke to a group of church leaders about my faith journey before standing before the congregation and having water dripped on my head.

I transferred my church "membership" to northwest Arkansas when I moved here and tried to be more involved with a church in Springdale.  I never really felt like I fit, and neither did Joseph.  Church became part of past.  It felt like most churches just wanted my money.

Fast forward to about 3 years ago - I started having a strong desire to find a church home again.  Joseph was willing but less than excited, so I tempered my desire and turned to Bible study.

I really enjoyed Beth Moore studies and learned a LOT.  She spoke my language and brought the Bible to life with understanding that I missed my entire life.  I learned that the Greek word translates to baptize literally meant being immersed.  My heart told me I needed a do-over, but I really wanted a church home first.

As many of you know, I found that home this past spring.  I attend a Lifechurch.tv campus in Jenks, OK, in March and introduced my family to it through church online.  My mother-in-love, Sarah, tagged along when Joseph and I attended together for the first time at the midtown Tulsa campus a month or so later.  By summer, we were finding excuses to go to Tulsa for the weekend just so we could attend church.  Online is great, but that church just felt like home.

In June I recommitted my life to Christ.  I have to admit this time I felt different.  I hunger for more and work daily on my relationship with my Savior.  As soon as I could I signed up for baptism.  To my great joy, Joseph and his mom also signed up to join me in that pool to celebrate our new lives in Christ!

Sarah was an inspiration that day!  She struggled to get into that pool because of physical limitations, but she was determined to make it happen.  I think every person in that room was rooting for her and thrilled in her accomplishment.  But no one more than her mother, who had travelled from Louisiana (her home) by way of Missouri (where her son lives) to see this moment.

I'm grateful for Clara (Joseph's grandma) and George (Joseph's dad) for being there with us and helping our kids see the celebration of faith and our lives made new.

God is good all the time!  And all the time God is good!  

Whoever finds God, finds life!

Heather