Bees in My Bonnet

 I just began to journal...and it made me realize I never concluded the previous saga of the lost wallet. There is more  to that story, I tell you.  My journal began..."Sometimes I think my brain got fried. The ability - really, the capacity - of my soul to hold grief, pain, trauma, suffering, silencing - I'm guessing has been greater  than most. I used to think of myself differently; blaming myself for being weak, fragile, IN-capable. But if I honestly look at my life journey, I must arrive at a different conclusion than before.  I sacrificed myself on the altar of survival ." I stopped there.  Yes, that last line describes decades of my life. I needed to find a way through, a way to cope and survive as a mother of young children, in a struggling marriage, in a world that has normal everyday demands that a severely depressed person can barely hold up underneath. It's not the world's fault. It's not having children, or a husband, or any of these things that...

 On January 18, Sam and I headed out to a dinner to celebrate (with his work colleagues) their accomplishments from the previous year. I remember thinking how nice it was of them to treat us all to a lovely meal in an upscale restaurant, and noticed with gratitude, that I didn't need to pull out my wallet to pay for our meal. I was so aware of not needing to do this, that upon returning home that evening, as soon as I walked in the door, I noticed my wallet was missing. I checked everywhere - my coat, purse, the car, under seats, on the ground outside the car. I realized I had lost my wallet at that dinner. And I was super annoyed. We called the restaurant. They had already closed. We waited until the next day, and called again. We were SO hopeful that it had been picked up by the staff or seen in the parking lot. But no - there was no sign of the wallet. And so began the saga of the Lost Wallet. I didn't know it would be a saga. I told myself not to worry. I could be alright w...

  I can't believe September is done. It feels like a gap in my year - that a whole 30 days was swallowed into some black hole or vortex of suffering. I don't know how all those days went by when I wasn't paying attention. On October 3, I usually remember the line in the sand of my life - that fateful day when I witnessed violence and fear like nothing I'd known before or since. (Link to that saga here)  It is one of those days - a before and after, where my life is forever marked as having crossed a bridge that can never be reversed. In other words, I can't unsee that.  This September feels strangely similar. Timo's motorcycle accident has thrown me face to face with the unpredictableness of all of life.  One moment I was heading to bed, the next, I'm riding an ambulance...it's still so surreal that I actually lived through this, and even more, that Timo did! And then two all-nighters, back to back. And to sit dazed in a hospital room, stunned, numb, and...

Corona virus, You have turned our world over; How we needed rest! We thought we controlled Our lives, plans, activities, But we were proved wrong Hidden particles, Invisible, yet potent, Emerge as monsters. Before them, we bow. Before it, we orient Ourselves once again. And, 'if the Lord wills,' Becomes, once again, our prayer. We turn back to God.

So, yesterday I posted about the kind of interactions I sometimes have regarding the state of affairs, especially regarding clutter in our home. (If you missed part 1,  click  Here ) It didn't end there. Like I said, I do need a Lot of help and thankfully Jena came to my rescue. Not only did she write the funny response - but she was as much a friend in deed (out deeds, depending), to meet me in my need. Today I am reminded though that Sam also came to my rescue, as it was a relative of his, he felt the need to also respond. As I look back at that, I am again so very thankful for the loving man God dropped in my lap (well, more like, in my house, but that's a long story you can read about  Here ). Here is how he addressed this situation (this is long, but I put it here with only minor edits that may be too personal, because I think his words are worth sharing with a broader audience - we are surely not the only couple to struggle with household order!): Dear --...

In case anyone is in doubt, I'll just put this out there: I need a LOT of help. I am not type A or even type B. By the time you get to X, Y or Z...I'm in there somewhere. I've always been scatter-brained - I still have some of my report cards which repeatedly pointed out my daydreaming habits. So, I'm sure you will be surprised to find out that I struggle with a thing called Chronic Disorganization. Combine that with a thing called A.D.D., (I like to think of that as Alternately Designed Diva), and a few other acronyms and labels that are especially helpful in addressing my various issues, and you get ME. That is my preface to the rest of what I'm about to put here. I'm posting this partly because it is so entertaining...but also because I am exceedingly grateful for the delightful person who wrote the response - who helped me out in my distress some time ago. Not only did she help me address a potentially riddled-with-relational-mines interaction, with hilar...

I had a rough morning...Hannah's one and only school dress was no-where to be found.  I had stayed up late doing extra laundry in case it was in there, and couldn't find it.  I didn't want to dig around in the room where they were sleeping so it needed to wait until this morning (yes, you can point out I should have thought of this before they were in bed, but I was focussed on getting them to bed!  Of course you could point out that I could have thought of this before the bedtime routine!  But I was trying to get supper on!  And you could point out I could have thought of this before supper prep, but...okay, you win). So this morning I look high and low.  I search everywhere.  I look under her bed three times!  I look under everything!  Couches, beds, hidden corners, dressers, cubbies, nooks - you name it, I looked.  I prayed - out loud, "Lord, please help us find Hannah's dress!"  I hear the thoughts in my head (could it be div...

I'm not going to start off by telling you any reason why I have the right to tell you these things.  My thoughts should prove helpful regardless, I imagine.  If I were talking to a group of parents who are struggling with the challenges of raising a child with A.D.D. here are some of the things I might say to them: Before I get into all the nitty gritty, I want to begin with a basic premise - seemingly so obvious that it might be redundant to state it, but I believe it is a foundational starting point from which to parent any child - or even to interact with any human being, and it is this:  Your child was created by God, with His very fingerprints all over them.  God stamped His own image, His own self, into the very person you deal with on a daily basis.  Your child is created imago dei  - in God's image, by God Himself.  So we can all agree, God wanted your child to exist, and was intimately involved in the process of making and shaping this chil...