Life

I’m Not Terrible, I’m Two!!

~ crossroadtrippers ~ Leave a comment

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My baby is going to be two soon and I get tired of hearing about the “terrible twos” or the look of remorse on people’s faces when they find out I have a two year old. Two can be a trying age for parents, but imagine what it’s like for a two year old. These little ones are growing and doing so much for the short two years they have been alive. I feel blessed and honored to have her so I wrote a post of what a two year old, like my daughter, may say to their parents if they could.

I am not a nuisance.
I want your attention because I need you.

I am learning.
I have to test what’s around me to find out how it works.

Let me drop things and make messes.
I won’t know how messes are made until I have made some. (Oh, and I don’t understand gravity.)

I need to explore.
I won’t learn or understand if you contantly yell at me for exploring my environment.

I will throw tantrums.
The world can be overwhelming for someone who’s only been in the world two years. I also don’t understand all of my emotions. These things aren’t easily understood by adults either.

Don’t expect perfection out of me. I can’t be held to an unrealistic standards unobtainable for even you.

I can be demanding.
I get mad when I don’t get my way and I think everything is “mine!”. How do I know who is in charge and how to share unless I am taught those things?

I need a nap!!!!
I’m learning a new language and how to use my body. I’m also growing very fast. All of this makes me tired! Please, give me a break and let me rest!

The world is a very big place for me and I need a break from it.
People and places can overwhelm someone as small as me. I often need to spend time in a familiar and comfortable place.

Don’t forget that everything around me is four times my size.
Sometimes it’s nice for me to be in a safe environment just the right size for me. Why not buy me my own chair or a toy at my height? It helps me learn how things work at my own level and it makes me feel special.

I spend lots of time climbing.
I have to climb to use those big things around me but keep a close eye on me because I think it’s my job to conquer everything in the house!

Stop acting shocked when I’m upset when I don’t get the rest I need.
I’m too little to keep up with your pace. My emotional state often reflects my physical state. I feel better when I can rest when I’m tired, don’t you?

Look at how much I am doing AND I’M ONLY 2!!!
I am an amazing work of art, sometimes you just have to stand back and look at how beautiful I am!

Praise me!
In my two years of life, making you happy is the greatest thing! Let me know you are happy with me.

I like attention.
I’ll behave well or poorly to get it, so you may want to recognize the good things I do to get it.

You are my whole world!
Really, you are. There is a reason I want you to give me all of your attention. You are my first true love!

*d*

Come Down from Your Tree

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One of the nicest things others have done for our family is bring a meal to our door when times are difficult. It was especially helpful when I was in the middle of my first, ugly Rheumatoid Arthritis flare. My family was able to enjoy a meal without the fuss of putting it together. We are equally grateful when we are invited to eat a meal with someone else. The invitation itself comes with the mutual understanding that mealtime with our family isn’t always seamless. We have four children under the age of 10, one of which is disabled. He has a great deal of anxiety at mealtimes and sharing a meal with him does come with a fair share of comprises. Having children of any age or ability can come with challenges but mealtime for us can be anything but relaxing. This may be why we are more than excited when we are extended an invitation.

This same excitement was especially true over two thousand years ago when mealtime was a priority and sharing a meal had great significance. In fact, hospitality should be an active practice in the Christian faith. Luke 14:12-14: “He said also to the man who had invited him, ‘When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. You will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.” This verse reminds me of the story of Zacchaeus. He was also someone who was rarely invited to a meal but got a big surprise when he was asked, and even more by who extended the invitation.

Zacchaeus’s story began with him cowering in a tree. Can you imagine a grown man hiding in a tree? That’s exactly what Zacchaeus did. He shyly hid away from a crowd that gathered in the streets to see Jesus. Zacchaeus wasn’t someone who was well liked. Zacchaeus was a tax collector. His unpopular profession had him hiding from a crowd that despised him and his shame could have also had him hiding from the Lord. Jesus did arrive and although Zacchaeus may have been able to hide from the crowd, he wasn’t able to hide from Jesus. Jesus saw Zacchaeus and called him down from the tree. Can you imagine the fear and anxiety that overcame Zacchaeus? Was Jesus wanting to make an example out of him? Would the crowd tell the Lord his indiscretions? Zacchaeus must have been astounded by what Jesus did next. Jesus asked to be a guest in Zacchaeus’s home. Now Zacchaeus and the crowd must have been puzzled by the actions of Jesus. Maybe they all stood puzzled and possibly wondering, “Isn’t there someone more righteous for Jesus to dine with?”

“What could Jesus want with a cowardly tax collector?”

In that time, it was an honor to house such a guest, let alone the son of God! The son of God just called down the most well known sinner in the crowd and asked to come to his home. What does this say about Jesus? What message was he trying to give to the watching crowd?

I think it says many things about him. First, it says that Jesus did not let the disapproval of the crowd sway his decision. He knew what murmurs would come from the crowd once he asked Zacchaeus down from the tree. He knew it may cause a disruption and rumors, but he did it anyway. Jesus had a plan and that plan was for all people, especially those who feel like they have the most to hide.

Second, it proves God can see the hiding sinner. Can you imagine what would drive a grown man, an employee of the government, up into a tree? He had a terrible job. He was the first person people would see when they had to hand their money over in taxes. Can you imagine the reception he received when there was a tax increase? The people of the time worked hard for their money and the taxes were not always fair. Zacchaeus had to collect the money one way or another, with no ability to be sympathetic with the people. Zacchaeus was well aware of his reputation. Who knows, maybe he had been in that tree since the middle of night as assurance he wouldn’t be seen. He was most likely a desperate man for a number of different reasons.

It also shows how Christ lived by example. The above verse is summarized by specifying who should be invited to a meal. The ones we should be extending a meal to are those who are unable to repay the kindness. It’s easy to invite those we know and like to our table but how many meals would we extend to our enemies or a hungry stranger off the street? Jesus knew Zacchaeus was not offered invitations to dine with those who disliked him, yet he was the one person Jesus wanted to share a meal with that day. He didn’t ask us to do something he didn’t do himself. Maybe he knew how much could be learned about someone by sharing a meal. Imagine what could be accomplished by extending an invitation to those who feel like an outcast. It could very well save lives as Christ lived to save all people.

Lastly, it shows that even the sinner who has the most obvious of sins are welcome to dine with the Lord. Jesus did not lay out criteria he required of Zacchaeus before he would dine with him, he just called him from the tree. Jesus reflected these actions on the day of his death. Two sinners were crucified on either side of him. One taunted Jesus and the other asked for forgiveness. Both men were obvious sinners and deserved death. Jesus extended forgiveness to the man who asked. With no strings attached, he said to the repentant man, “Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.” Luke 23:43

Too many of us feel like Zacchaeus. We are ashamed and hiding. We think there is no way we are worthy to be in the presence of the Lord. Our sin, disappointment, and the opinions others have us scampering and hiding away from life. What we don’t realize is that Jesus sees where we are hiding, and most importantly, he sees what we are hiding. He already knows our deepest of secrets and he knows what we deserve and wants us to let him in. He did make an example of Zacchaeus that day, an example that is still true of the nature of the Lord. God seeks out all people. No one is too righteous or too sinful to be excluded from the love of the Lord.

Jesus is standing under your tree. How will you answer his request to come into your home? Will you open your door or keep trying to hide all what he can already see? If you have already invited Christ in, what are you doing with his words? Who have you invited to your table? Will you be an example to the waiting crowd?

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*d*

Extra Baggage

~ crossroadtrippers ~ Leave a comment

So this was the weekend. The weekend my husband and I would spend a night away from home. It has been six years since we were able to do it last. Six years ago we only had one child. In that span of time we had three more children and life got much more complicated.

It’s the added stress of a son with complex medical issues and my own chronic illness that made a small getaway so important to us. My husband and I arranged this special weekend months ago and we have been talking about it ever since. We have been dreaming about uninterrupted sleep, a schedule free of obligations, and most importantly, much needed time alone. I have been begging for a weekend away for a couple years now. I think the guilt of being away from home and asking someone else to care for the kids, especially one with special circumstances, kept us from following through. It has also been hard to set aside money to fund a weekend away. We were determined this time and we set a little money aside and took family up on their offers to spend the weekend with our kids.

Unfortunately, my RA had decided it too wanted a vacation. It reared it’s ugly head Saturday morning. The pain was so intense that it took me twice as long to do my usual morning preparations. Door knobs and car doors looked more like thorns and sandpaper. During what felt like a grudge match with my make-up and curling iron, it struck me that I may have to cancel our long awaited get away. We weren’t going far, only twenty minutes from home, but when experiencing that much pain, it’s hard to leave the comforts of home.

I decided I wasn’t going to cancel although I was disappointed and upset that I had to be in so much pain on such an anticipated day. I had to understand that I can take a vacation, illnesses don’t. I was upset because I thought my illness should. So despite the setbacks, we enjoyed our time together. We came home early the next day because I was too sick. We came home before lunch and I fell asleep on my chair.

I realized I wasn’t *d* with Rheumatoid Arthritis and Fibromyalgia, I was *d* living along side those diseases. I didn’t want to make room for either in my life. I was trying to set myself apart from the diseases in hopes that I would get better and it would just be “me” again. It’s all quite silly because my son has an incurable illness we have learned to accept. My problem is denial. On our last overnight stay six years ago we stayed near an amusement park and I was riding roller-coasters, walking long distances and I took no medication. Six years passed and changed very quickly. I’m not sure how I’ll finally accept sharing my life with these diseases.. maybe I never will.

That’s the way life is, things change and we have to learn to live with those changes we can’t do anything about. My grandmother had to adjust to life alone after my grandfather passed away. She learned to drive his lawnmower and drive herself where she needed to go because he wasn’t around to do those things with her anymore. It’s been a hard two years but she is adjusting. I have always thought of my grandmother as a strong person. Among many things, she is a beast cancer survivor but you’ll never hear her complain. I know I want to be more like her. Both she and my mom are strong women, and it’s usually not by choice. They have been forced to make room for the unexpected trials of life

This weekend had a good lesson for me; keep going despite the unexpected. I didn’t expect to be in terrible pain the day of our departure, but I can never anticipate what days will be the most difficult. I have to keep trying to enjoy what I can, when I can. I was in a lot of pain the entire weekend but I wouldn’t trade a minute of the time I got to spend with my husband.

I guess I need to think about whether I make room for the unexpected  gracefully or make it come by force; either way it’s coming. I like it when I can do it with something to look forward to or at least with a smile on my face.

*d*

To Those Who are Different

~ crossroadtrippers ~ 1 Comment

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If you are reading these words maybe it’s because you saw the title and thought, “That’s me, I’m different.” Maybe you said it with sadness. Maybe you feel like your differences have set you apart from the rest of the world and you feel alone. I want to tell you why you should say, “I’m different” with enthusiasm and joy.

At some point in history we were made to believe that it was acceptable to believe in a cookie cutter type of beauty. Beauty could be defined by some as a lack of “imperfections”. The world has gone so crazy over this concept that the appearance of people already believed to fit into the acceptable category of beauty is altered. Bodies are trimmed to a desired build, hair is colored, cut, or even added to obtain “perfection” and even the face can be altered to fit the mold. Everywhere we look we see some mythical idea of beauty. By accepting these preconceived ideals, we are denying ourselves the opportunity to witness the true beauty around us. Natural beauty. Beauty that shines so brightly on the inside, it dulls the watching world.

I want you to imagine what it looks like when you step out your front door. When I step out of mine, I step out onto my front porch. I have a swing and a wicker chair there. I can see my flowers, hear the cars driving by on my busy street, and I can barely see the horizon of the sky. The quaint buildings of our small village don’t allow me to see the wide angle view of nature but I still get to see several types of trees that line the main street in our village. The smells and sounds differ from day to day as we are a community that thrives on farming and livestock. I frequently hear a train roll through as we live only a block from the tracks. I love where I live. How about you? What do you see? Maybe you live where I have always dreamed of living, slightly isolated in a valley with a majestic view of a mountain? Or maybe you live where you had always dreamed, in a city alive with the noise of life. Maybe you don’t like what you see and are still dreaming of being elsewhere. No matter where you are, there is something to see once you step outside. Nature. Nature is all it’s own and it has been here long before we changed the landscapes outside our doors. It is full of splendid diversity. We can photoshop and edit pictures of nature but nothing compares to the real thing. A photo lacks the depth of being surrounded by the actual beauty of nature. Would the mountain look less majestic if a rock were to crumble off the face? Is the stream less blue if the leaves of fall float on its surface? Do we refuse to gaze upon the rise of an ancient tree because it’s bark has been worn from the animals that shelter in its branches?

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If your answer is “no” then I ask why our own differences are seen as anything less than beautiful. Why is a smile less warming if the face that wears it has a blemish upon it’s skin? Is the body any less than amazing just because it rests in a wheelchair rather than on two feet? Why is a the shaved head of a cancer patient less desirable than that of someone with a full head of hair? Beauty can no longer be defined by the masses idea of beauty, but by nature. The differences of all of us are natural. Why are we trying to change that? There is so much to appreciate when we step out our doors and take time to look at the unending differences of nature, isn’t it time we do the same with each other?

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Beauty isn’t just what you see in a magazine, it is the resilience of the human spirit, the beauty in our personal journey. Beauty is what the journey teaches us and how it transforms us from the inside. Beauty is the scars we bare from physical and emotional wounds earned in battle. True beauty is held by those who have been stripped to their soul and have seen life in a new light. Beauty is not worn on the face or seen upon a pouty lip, it is deep within the heart. Beauty is carried by those who have given all of themselves and have opened their eyes to what really makes taking a breath priceless. Indeed it’s seeing how wonderful it is to be a unique individual.

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We are on the brink of redefining so many things, it is about time we start redefining this archaic definition of beauty. It is time we love what makes ourselves and others unique. It is time to wake up and look at what makes you different and say, “no one else is like me” and celebrate it. Don’t be discouraged by differences. They really aren’t differences, diversity in all of us needs to be as natural as those in nature. The rocks will crumble on the mountain, so too will our bodies become brittle, but they are both beautiful. Not all birds have the ability to fly, but they are still birds just as we are no less human if we cannot walk. Hundreds of different flowers lining a hillside are not dedined as ugly because each one is different so why are some defined as such?

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If you feel different, celebrate because you were meant to be different. Every person was meant to be unique. To define beauty in a narrow perimeter is unnatural and ridiculous and it needs to stop. We are part of the beauty and artwork of nature but yet we define our beauty on different terms. It makes no sense.

If you feel too different to be beautiful, please know that you are special because there is no one like you and there never will be again. You are like one of those thousands of flowers that grow wild in nature, without you, the hillside wouldn’t be as splendid. You are splendid, because you are you.

*d*

Questioning Faith

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I was six years old one summer evening in 1987 when I stepped out of my pew and made my way to the front of my childhood church. I nervously stepped out to pray with the guest preacher that evening, he also happened to be nearly six feet tall. I don’t remember much about the message that finally spurred me out of my seat that evening, but I do remember the clicking sound my purple flip-flops made as I walked past the pews full of parishioners. I remember how my heart told me there was something I needed to do. I could no longer silence a stirring within my little heart and that urge could only be met with a simple prayer. So there I stood with a preacher who could barely bend down far enough for me to whisper my request in his ear. I wanted to open my heart up to God and follow him the rest of my life.

Despite my age, I changed that night. I finally answered the call God had been placing upon my heart, a unique calling that is hard to describe. I can only describe it in a single word that shouts from within. It says “Move!”. It was a move that only I could make, a move that declared I’d live my life for God. In obedience to scripture, I was baptized a few weeks later.

I was baptised in June. I wore a blue button down shirt with crayons on it. I was to dress down as I was to be submerged in the baptismal. Although I was quite young, I remember the feeling following my baptism. As I emerged from those waters, that old shirt no longer felt tattered, and neither did I. I felt clean, I felt peace and a renewed desire to change. As I rode back from my baptism, I thought about all the ways I could change for the better, or as much as a six year old could change.  It sounds a bit unreal for a little girl to feel such things, but I assure you they were real. Maybe that’s why I have such a clear memory of it almost 30 years later.

I made a commitment to God at a young age but it didn’t save me from making many mistakes in my lifetime. Mistakes are why I needed God, why I wanted to be saved. I understood that I was imperfect and there would be times when I would need forgiveness and I wanted to follow a God who understood my imperfections. I decided to follow a God who I was taught not only created us, but lived among us and personally understood the hardships of the human existence.  I have known for almost 30 years that I didn’t have to face the tribulations of life alone, I felt the God of the universe cared for someone as small and flawed as me.

With such a longstanding relationship with God, it has been hard for to me admit when my faith has faltered. Questioning my relationship with God and, His very existence, may seem like a big failure as a Christian but to me it has been a necessary part of my faith journey. In recent years I have asked the same questions I did before I took that walk before the church at the age of six. Health and financial issues of my own and those around me have made me realize I didn’t have the unwavering faith I thought I had. I started to think deeply about what it was I claimed to believe. I became scared when I did not understand things beyond my comprehension. I wondered how a God who was supposed to care for me so intimately could allow me to experience such suffering. I was becoming more angry and questioning what I believed down to the very existence of God.

Were my questions a symptom of a weak faith? What good could come from questioning a faith that has carried me through many difficult times since the day I walked to the front of the church on that summer evening? Some may say it’s because my faith is weak but I dare to believe that the deepest of convictions come when they are questioned, examined, and re-examined. What is a blind faith that is never re-examined, especially in difficult times? Questioning my beliefs would either solidify what I believed to be true or it would fall apart under the weight of the pressure.

Christianity believes that Jesus is God who came to earth to live as a human. He was one percent human and one hundred percent God. He felt the same human emotion as we do while having the diety of God. He had the full human experience and a frightening human death. He felt joy and happiness. He experienced great fear and loss. Knowing these things, I asked him to show me the meaning of my own suffering but before I could utter the words from my heart to my mouth, I saw Christ praying in the garden before he was arrested. I saw his agony over the death he knew was before him and there is no doubt he also knew of the torture he would endure. I saw him on his hands and knees, pleading for the cup to be passed from him as he sweat his own blood. He was physically manifesting symptoms of his internal struggle. He lived and understands by experience. When I accepted Christ, I accepted that he didn’t blindly ask me to suffer. He did it himself. He was born into this world and immersed himself in life. He was here and he understands. He suffered more than I could ever imagine. He was arrested, beaten, and crucified. I remember then the feeling I had when I decided to follow God at such a young age, I knew he loved me because he knew me. He was gracious enough to give me life but he never promised a life without strife, as he himself was not exempt. He promised to be with me always and he hadn’t broke that promise, I just forgot it.

In the last few weeks, my life has quite possibly become more difficult as my body is continuing  to experience widespread pain and my son’s seizures continue to increase, making neurosurgery look like the last, best hope but God has renewed so much in me. He answered my prayers. What was his answer? “Keep questioning.” What a wonderful response! So I am picking up my Bible, books, praying and asking questions. I am renewing my faith through questioning my own beliefs. Doubt made me search and through that search, I renewed my relationship with God. It is a relationship that gives my life purpose, even my suffering.

So I challenge you to do the same. Question why you follow your own personal convictions. Once you examine your beliefs, ask if those convictions make sense and bring you contentment. If your beliefs ask you to follow blindly, I’d question them even more. What good is an unexamined life? Take a chance and ask the hard questions. I guarantee if you are looking in the right place, those questions won’t be too hard to find.

*d*

Love is Stronger Than Pain

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I was thinking about what Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA) has taken from me today. It has taken many things; my peace of mind, health, mobility, strength, and much more. It has been hard to accept that just a couple years ago I didn’t have to worry so much about my own health, the peace of mind about being able to take care of my own children was secure, and I knew I had the physical and emotional strength to take on whatever life threw at me. Now most of my day is centered around pain. I ask, if I stretch, exercise, or take the right medication or supplements, can I relieve this pain? But the day usually begins and ends the same, in pain.

I am certain I can handle what the disease takes from me, what I don’t like is what it takes from my kids. Above, I posted a picture of me holding my youngest daughter. She is our surprise baby; you know, that baby who comes along and yells “surprise” a week before a scheduled hysterectomy. My husband and I determined we were finished having children and I needed to have the surgery to take care of some health issues that have plagued me for many years. These problems were so disruptive, we are lucky to have even one child, we have four. When our youngest snuck in under the radar we were very excited. We were shocked and thrilled when we finally conceived our first and every child thereafter was equally, maybe even more exciting.

I think I do alright as a mom. I love and have loved every stage of their lives thus far, but I especially love the toddler years. I personally think too many people focus on the possible tantrums or stubborn nature of a toddler and miss all the incredible things they are learning and accomplishing in the first short years of their lives. I was always the proud mom to carry her babies around on my hip. The first three were glued to my hip as long as they’d allow me to pick them up and put them there. Unfortunately for my fourth, she hasn’t had the same. I am unable to pick her up, let alone carry her like I could with my other children and that just makes me mad. She is frequently raising her arms to me and saying, “up” and I have to say, “Sorry baby, mommy can’t pick you up right now”. Yes, I know I can find other ways to pick her up and I know it isn’t a necessity but I want to do it! I hate that my RA has taken this simple joy from me. I have accepted and smiled through many things that have spewed into my life but I am neither going to smile or accept this one.

As you can see, I try to pick her up as much as I can, pain or no pain and I often try to take a picture. I want to remember that I was blessed to have had babies on my hip. I am privileged to raise my children and I will keep doing my best despite what this awful disease does to me. I will pick them up (try to put them on my hip), hug them, kiss them, and smile at them, even if the entire day is experienced in pain. When I think hard about it, my life isn’t about me, it’s about who I have been gifted to love. The love of a child is far more powerful than any pain some awful disease tries to throw at me.

*d*

Five Things Children May Want to Tell Their Parents About What They Really Need

~ crossroadtrippers ~ 1 Comment

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Praise me.
Spend more time praising me when I do something right rather than solely scolding me when I do something wrong. Praising me when I do well teaches me that you are paying attention. I learn that positive choices mean positive results and I have the ability to make others happy by my good choices.

Let me spend time independently.
Don’t hover over me. Let me wander around a safe environment. I need to learn that I can do things on my own and feel the accomplishment of doing things independently.

Allow me to fail.
I need to know life isn’t always fair. I know you love me but let me fail so I can learn to try again and not give up. I will grow faster than you realize and I need to be able to graciously accept defeat when necessary and know failing isn’t the worst thing that can happen to me.

Remind me that you are looking out for me.
Remind me to zip up my coat, clean my room, and do my chores. Keep after me because I expect you to. Be my parent first and then my friend. I will have a lot of friends in my childhood years but you will be my longest friend, just give me time to grow and realize it.

Love me.
Make sure I know you love me, even when I fail, refuse to listen, or disappoint you. I’m not perfect. I will never be perfect but your love for me through anything feels pretty perfect.

*d*