Falling from grace...

This blog is quite different from those in the past. Normally I write about my children, my community or a topic that is either to entertain or to show my passion. This blog though is very personal. I’ve debated on writing it, but the purpose of a blog is to reach out to people and hope that when you do that you will say something that will touch someone in one way or another, whether it be in the form of laughter, in the form of tears or even perhaps help with some soul searching.

At 50 years old I don’t think that there is a time in my life that I can recall where there wasn’t a connection between me and God. I have strayed away a time or two, but always found my way back. I may not have prayed every day, but there has always been an open line of communication with Him.

Through many types of spiritual warfare I think that at some point your soul feels battered and shaken. With me there was a point where my spiritual relationship was very vulnerable and before I realized it there was a point of descending that began my fall from grace. It isn’t important what happened, where it happened or when exactly that it happened. What is important is that it did happen. Once something like this happens it feels as if the downward spiral that you are in becomes something that you can no longer control. It’s like a rollercoaster that once it is set in motion it won’t stop unless it’s a sudden forcible stop and in falling from grace, that forcible stop is when you hit bottom. When you are on this descent you begin to notice more those that sat back and watched you fall than you notice those that have tried to catch you or those that put out their hand to pull you back up. You look at those that keep you from making a decision to “come back” and you overlook those that set an example and give you a reason to return from your prodigal journey.

To describe how hard it becomes to talk to God when you are falling from His grace is like your breath has been taken away and your throat is closed. You want to yell for help; you want to communicate in any way, but you can’t. You can’t find the words, you can’t find the strength and it’s almost as if you can’t remember how to. I have this precious friend of mine, Marna, and when there is something in her life that merits prayer she will message me and she always says “I’m asking because I know you will”. There’s a certain level of accountability that she holds me to and because of that she reminds me of that relationship that I have with God…or that I used to have. She reminds me that I have an obligation in my relationship to God and that I need to talk to Him.

During this absence from His will I have found myself at different times questioning why things are happening. I have even had to audacity to think I can stiffen up and take the challenges head on and in a certain aspect actually defy the obstacles that God has thrown my way to remind me that I need to be ascending in His grace and not descending. It’s literally like I’m fighting this battle and with each hit I take emotionally, physically or mentally I am being drained and feel myself as battered and as tortured as my soul is.
I’m not sure how to find my way back to where I need to be. I’m not sure how to teach myself again to serve Him and I’m definitely not sure how to open lines of communication again. I do know though through many years of this journey with God that when I can’t speak, He hears my heart.

I’m still debating with myself as to whether I have been too open and whether this is something that I “need” to share. I am convincing myself to have the courage to hit the final button by reminding myself that I am not the only one who has stumbled and fallen. I wasn’t the first and I won’t be the last, but I can be an example to remind others that even though you feel completely alone – trust me...you aren’t.

I'm just sayin'... we deserve a cape

As a mother I have achieved many titles during this journey (some of them without a degree to hang on the wall). Over the course of motherhood I have become a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher, a chauffeur, a coach [in several different sports] – (because I paid my $5 to sit in the stands for too many years not to have a certification in that), a nurse, a maid, a referee….the list could go on and on!

In the past few weeks I have [figuratively speaking] came in on two wheels attempting to save the day for one or all of my children. My 26 year married daughter with two children sends me a text the other night needing toilet paper, it’s important to include the fact that she lives 5 minutes down the road from me and 6 minutes from the Dollar Store; my son tells me the night before his senior research paper is due that he needs my help, only to find out that he has one paragraph written and my middle one sends me a text telling me that she needs help with homework that has to be turned in that night – mind you she is in Australia studying abroad and has been gone two months and I still can’t figure out when her nights are so I’m sitting at the kitchen table trying to help with a homework assignment going on halfway around the world.

At this point that I have come to the conclusion that as a mother we deserve a title that surpasses all others…we are superheroes! I mean the flowers, cards and gifts are nice tokens of appreciation, but what we really need is a cape...because well we deserve one and we need a shirt with a big fat M on it instead an S, because truthfully we have more powers than Superman!

Only as a mother can we accomplish the things that we do. I mean who else can squeeze a quarter out of a nickel? Who can be at 3 different ballgames in 3 different locations on the same day? Who can multi-task by cooking dinner, doing homework and laundry all at the same time? Who else could manage to grocery shop with tiny humans wanting everything from Cheetos to freezer pops? Who else can make sure that the lunch money is paid (or the lunches are packed), that the field trip permission slips are signed AND turned in on time or that there is proper attire and perfect hair for picture day? Who else can make the appointments and actually get the children to the pediatrician, the dentist, the dermatologist, the orthopedic doctor, the orthodontist and the ear, nose & throat doctor? Do you see where I am going with this? I mean I'm not saying the father isn't important....but....have you seen a man try to make sure an outfit matches, that the right meds go to the right kid and that there is something from all the food groups represented at dinner? I mean sure they could do it - BUT can they do it without having a minor meltdown deep down inside? Can they do all this without sneaking a Xanax out of the medicine cabinet when no one is looking?

Yes, my children are grown. The last one is about to leave the nest and unlike the job that I get a salary for that I will one day retire from...my days of being a mother and being needed are far from being over. You know what? That's perfectly fine with me. I'll take the stress, the long days, the sleepless nights, the constant worry until I know that they are all home safe, the delivering of toilet paper at 11:00 at night, the sudden rush to finish the paper that should already be done and the realization that homework is certainly not what it used to be (in America AND Australia).

When I think about all the things that being a mother requires; I think that one day a year is certainly not enough to celebrate us! I think we should have a week - National Hero with an apron week or something like that. Until then though, I will settle for the satisfaction of knowing that my children (whether they admit it or not) know that deep down they wouldn't be who they are without their mom and that their mere existence from day to day has been because I was there and will continue to be for whatever they may need at the moment.

Love, hugs and pizza for breakfast

When my children were babies I look back and I remember how hard I tried to be the "perfect mom". I made sure that the obvious needs were taken care of...that they were fed when they were hungry, they were taken to the doctor for every little thing when they didn't feel good, they were bathed and cleaned always and they were snuggled and loved. I even went the extra mile to make sure their clothes matched, that they were never taken out in public looking like they lived in a barn and I did the little extra things like making sure they had pictures taken at every milestone of their life. Now before you get carried away with thinking that I was a "mother of the year" kind of gal let me make it clear that they didn't always have a hot breakfast (although they did eat something), I didn't always give them my undivided attention and we didn't always say our bedtime prayers.
As my children grew older and went through the stages of toddler, preteen and puberty I still managed to make sure that they had the necessities that they required. As a single mom there wasn't a lot of spoiling, but on occasion when the checkbook would allow it they would get a little treat here and there. I have NEVER been one of those mothers that thought her child had to have a 'grocery toy'....you know one of those little prizes that a child has to have every. single. time. they. go. to. a. store. As they grew older and style began to matter they always had nice clothes (granted they did come from the clearance rack 90% of the time). By then the breakfast thing was a hit or miss kind of thing; it might come in the form of fresh baked cinnamon rolls or it might be a bowl of Fruit Loops, but they were at the age that they had became maintenance free and could fix their own if they needed to. They had their needs met and some of their wants granted, they had a bed to sleep in and a roof over their heads.
Now my children have all left the nest except for the youngest and he graduates this year. I'm pretty much at this point dragging my feet as a mother. I don't know if it's the depression of knowing that soon the nest will be empty and I'm striking in form of protest or if it's just that I am...well to be honest....wore out! At this point my son is lucky if I even remember to tell him to eat and when I do it's usually "hey there's a bottle of chocolate milk, but it has protein" or "how do you feel about leftover pizza?" has even crossed my lips a time or two I have to admit.
I know that I will always be a mother - it will just be in the form from now on of phone calls for advice, visits on weekends or me just missing them and inviting myself over. I find myself already wondering what will I do without ballgames, school functions, doctor appointments and having a child in the same house with me.
I think that all mothers (if we will be honest with ourselves) at different times just get tired of piles of laundry, trying to find what to fix for dinner, making sure everyone's needs are met while our needs get overlooked; and then we fantasize of the day that we can just lay on the couch watching Lifetime movies and eating cookies and actually getting to finish the movie!
This is going to be a huge adjustment for me. I've spent a big portion of my life trying to measure up to the most amazing mom ever title; sometimes I achieved that and sometimes I didn't. I know that I can't dwell on looking back and wishing I had done things differently, because the damage has either already been done or the opportunity to do better has passed. I can look back though and know that even if I failed at times, there are two things that I can be assured of when it comes to my parenting... my children never, ever felt unloved and whatever I did do as a mother, well I must have done something right because all three of those wonderful souls that God blessed me with have turned out to be some pretty amazing humans if I do say so myself.