Are you there?

So even after all these years of blending our families, Shawn and I still don’t have this marriage thing all figured out. There are times when we struggle with trust issues. Trust is one of—if not—THE MOST important foundation of a healthy marriage, yet one so hard to build after it has eroded.

We still struggle monthly, weekly, daily—even by the hour at times— trusting one another, trying to heal from the trust that has been broken—and often times its not even by the person in front of us.

So we found ourselves on that path again last night, and what could have—and should have—been a relatively easy conversation . . . turned into a fear driven insecurity fest. One of us defending . . . one accusing . . . neither one healing. We were getting nowhere, and fast.

Soon, I gave up and shut down—all the while sitting in my silence, wishing he would just see the truth. I took a break from my frustrations and said a little prayer—at first asking God to change Shawn’s heart, help him to see things MY way.

After my prayer I secretly waited and hoped for the apology I felt I deserved, but soon I found myself telling him all the reasons I loved him—all the things I—had and—was always going to do to protect our marriage, and then asked him if he ever prayed for clarity when trust issues were clouding his view.

He said, “It doesn’t really matter anyway . . . God doesn’t ever hear me. He doesn’t answer MY prayers.” There it was. His fear was that God not only didn’t answer his prayers, but He didn’t even hear them.

A statement I knew in my heart was a lie.

I looked into his big blue eyes and said, “So I want you to think about something . . .

For the past few months Bostyn has been begging for a hamster. And for months we have been saying no. Once Christmas lists started being made—talk of the hamster only increased. It was the only thing she wanted for Christmas. She even spent hours researching facts about hamster breeds and their care—and presented her case in an informal debate against you. Even after all of that . . . we still said no. But then she just kept asking and asking and asking. Each moment of begging, breaking you down a little more until yesterday you went out and bought her an early Christmas present and had it all set up to surprise her when we got home. Not because you wanted a hamster, but because you listened to a little girl who you finally saw as ready for the responsibility— and the blessing— of owning her own pet.

I don’t think prayer is much different. Not that we have to break Heavenly Father down . . . but we do have to show him our willingness to work hard, research, look at all the options, and consistently show him that we are humble enough to keep asking for what we want—and that we have righteous desires we know He can help us achieve. But we can’t do any of it without His help.

And just like us—He is a parent who wants to help His children find happiness. And though I don’t know that buying Bostyn a hamster makes us good parents, . . . I do know that today we listened to one of her desires. But how many times did she have to tell us how important it was to her—before we really took her seriously? 100? If you want answers . . . or blessings, or to overcome struggles, you have to keep asking. He might not send the answer the first 10 or 100 times you ask . . . but I know when you are ready, He will bring you the answers you need to feel peace.”

Prayer is real. It is a direct communication we can have with our Creator. It is a gift we were given way before we came here. And it is—without a doubt—a two-way conversation. So if you have tried it—and didn’t hear back, don’t give up just yet. You might have a few more times to try before your true humility shows through.

Prayer is not something we can do with the expectation of a certain outcome—it is an act of faith that we perform to show God we trust His timing, and we need His help. It is an act of humility—letting go of any pride that we think we can do this life on our own.

Fear is the opposite of faith. Trust issues are fears—of the past and future—brewed together creating chaos. The antidote to fears of the past and future—is faith in the present—faith in the plan that got you here.

So make today count—and never stop asking God for His hand in your life. It might just surprise you what path He has in store . . . to lead you back to Him.

Happy Thanksgiving from our crew (that are all growing way too fast)...

Too close to the fence

(Caution: graphic pictures are included in this post)

It all started two weeks ago. Our four girls were off at activities and the boys and their friends were jumping on the trampoline and playing in the grass with our dog Sadie. My friend and I were talking as we watched the kids run around in the back yard.

Sadie—as she usually does—began running along the fence line playing with the neighbor’s two German shepherds. An activity I had always encouraged in hopes to get her at least five minutes of exercise each day. She always got a rush of energy when they were running the fence with her. I have always just assumed they were her only friends—and I think she did too.

So for the millionth time—on her own side of the fence—Sadie got a jolt of energy and booked it down the fence line . . . playing their usual game. Prepared to run a race she would never win, be defeated, go back inside and fall asleep on the couch. It was the same every time . . . until that day.

Sadie was only half way down the fence line when all of the sudden she appeared to be stuck on something. At first I didn’t comprehend what was happening, but as I ran towards the commotion—of Teage’s panicked cry and dogs making noises—I could see that the two German shepherds had both stuck their noses between the slats in the fence and were clamped down with their jaws tight on our dog—their bodies still in their own yard. They began to try to pull her—in opposite directions—through the slits between the wrought iron posts.

I knew in that moment she was gone. She wasn’t making a noise—as one of the dogs was pretty much clamping down on her airway—and her eyes were rolled back in her head. But I also knew I wasn’t going to let them destroy her body—any more than it already was—in front of my babies. So I did what any mama bear would do . . . I decided to fight.

In complete shock, Teage and I began punching, kicking, yelling, and crying . . . begging these animals to set her free. To no avail Sadie was still being pulled through two separate openings—she would never fit through—by two different mouths.

I began to scream at the top of my lungs, hoping for anyone around to come and help me set her free so we could give her a proper burial. Soon, a few neighbors came running to the rescue. It took 3 adults and one ten year old punching and kicking for a few minutes to get the other dogs to let her go, and once they did . . . she took a breath.

She was still alive! Mangled, bleeding, and full of holes and shaking with fear—but alive.

The whole left side of her body was covered in blood and teeth marks—some so deep you could see her insides. Sadie got a lot of stitches that night. The doctor in the ER vet clinic said her extra fat saved her life (A lesson we might want to consider this holiday season. “I am eating for my safety!”.) Then—with the help of some miracle worker doctors—she was sent home to recover the very next morning.

For someone who has suffered with PTSD for the past six and half years, I can’t say I didn’t fall into a state of intense fear most of that night.  The “WHY US”—“why my son who already struggles with fear of the unknown” ate at me for the hours I sat waiting. I covered the gamete on victim pity parties in my mind. I quickly went through the grief cycle as I waited in a room for hours, to see if the dog—I bought for my kids as a therapy healing animal—was going to make it.  And I sobbed even harder the next morning when she came home with a heartbeat, but looked like she wished she was dead.

I cried for her pain, for the struggle—I feared—this moment of trauma was going to play in the lives of my already hurting children. I struggled with a belief racked in fear that has tried to haunt me many times before. I do not have the ability to protect them. The evidence had never felt so strong as this scene had played out in the safety of our own property . . . while I stood by.

I know now that those fears that came into my mind—as I thought I was failing yet again— . . . they aren’t true.

So two weeks later I want to share a few things I have learned from a moment of fear.

#1. We are not promised tomorrow. Literally the day before, I said—out loud and on Instagram—how grateful I am for such a perfect dog. I thought in that moment, those words left my lips, that maybe she was God’s way of blessing us for all the hell we have been through. Then—not even 24 hours later—I thought we had lost her forever. Not because of anything we did or did not do . . . but because life is full of bumps in the road and fences we must not walk too close to.

#2. There are going to be “German Shepherds” in our lives. Obviously I am not talking about the breed. There are many of these dogs that have saved lives and been life long companions for people. I am talking about traumatic moments—someone or something coming out of nowhere and tearing you down. Some—we might not ever see coming. Some are merely the voices we hear in our minds—threatening us to just give up. Some are going to be real life bad guys with guns—others might be threats to our marriages, or bullies at school. Whatever our “German Shepherds” have been or will be . . . they are unique to each of us individually. They can either cause us to give up . . . or they can give us a reason to fight—a reason to stand a little taller . . . or for me this week, stand a little more grateful.

#3. Sometimes we might not see the wolves in sheep clothing, and learn through a lot of pain that some don’t want to be the friend we hoped they were. Other times we might gain a friend in someone we thought was out to get us.

#4. Sometimes—just like Daniel in the Bible— we will be thrown into a lion’s den. Sometimes God will calm the lions, and other times He will send a miracle in a different way.  On this day in my backyard . . . I saw hundreds of them.

#5. We cannot walk too close to the fence. There are some things in this world that just make sense. We can clearly see the consequences of walking along the edge of a cliff . . . because we can easily see what can go wrong. But how many situations do we encounter each day that the outcomes are not as clear?

If there is something in your life that you keep taking a risk for—that maybe isn’t really going to be worth it in the end—take a few steps back, it just might save your life.

#6. No matter how hard we work, or how much money we spend to help someone heal—we don’t get to decide how they will receive it. We cannot force them to accept our “love” and our “knowledge” of what is best for them.

Sadie was stitched up from head to toe. She didn’t eat much for days. She hardly moved at all. But once she started healing and those stitches started itching, she decided, one day, to use her back leg to not only dig out her stitches but to reopen the biggest wound she had received from her attack. Blood everywhere again. More pain.

#7. If we want to heal, we can’t keep reopening our wounds. We have to let others do their jobs to help us. We have to let stitches heal before we try to take them out ourselves. Some things do take time. And others  . . . though in the moment seem to feel good to make it hurt again—maybe aren’t worth digging back up.

#8. Some fences are not built well enough to keep the darkness out. But some of the fences and walls—we create for ourselves—are the very things that are not letting the light in.

You guys know my story. There have been other “German Shepherds” . . . and fences that should have been avoided. So today I plead with you—those who have the ability to take a step back. Run. Find fences and company that are worth living for . . . and are not posing as a friend in a safe back yard.

Our relationships, our decisions, our integrity . . . they matter. Don’t walk too close to the fence. Decide now what side you want to be on, and don’t let anyone try to pull you through to the other side—first of all, you don’t fit. Second of all . . . the grass isn’t always greener over there.

And when those “German shepherds” come—and they will come—just don’t forget who you are. It isn’t what we go through, but what we become after the pain that makes all the difference. Yes we may carry scars, and have wounds we are tempted to open up again and again . . . but we can heal.

(Here she is snuggling me while I type)

If you feel like you have been attacked, belittled, humiliated, and the “German shepherds” around you seem to have forgotten your worth, don’t you dare give up. You aren’t broken. You have so much yet to live for. The world still needs you. And as you heal those fears of all the moments you were not shown the love you deserve . . . just remember—you are still enough . . . broken and all. 

Sometimes we trust, and get hurt any way. Doesn’t mean we didn’t do our best. Having faith in a plan, and having that plan fail us does not have to be evidence of our worthlessness, or a reason for us to loose faith in others. For every “dog” that has attacked, there is another that has brought love and companionship. For every plan that has changed and failed, there is a plan that has changed and brought so much success . . . even joy.

We have to be there for each other. God doesn’t send us one another by accident. An animal that was brought to our family to be a therapy dog . . . is now taking her turn teaching us how to be her “therapy people”.  The circle of life doesn’t always have to bring death.

Healing isn’t easy, but it is possible. So Sadie, though I know you will never read this post. Thanks for being strong—for fighting for another day. For reminding me—AGAIN—how I need to make the most of every moment and never take advantage of all I have been given. Also, thanks for showing these kids how to fight—and giving them a new hope that not every attack ends in death.

Today as you assess the fences you walk . . . just remember as wounds heal, the pain does too. If you are holding on to a pain of a wound that has long since healed physically, maybe today it is time to stop digging in a letting it hurt you emotionally or mentally. Ask for the help you need, there are people who can help you stitch it up once and for all. You will see miracles as you pray for grace.

Life is too hard to do it alone. We need each other. And we don’t just need each other’s presence . . . we need each other’s love. Perfectly imperfect love. Don’t walk too close to the fence, but don’t be afraid to make room—on your side—for the people who need you the most.

He never said it would be easy . . . just worth it.

Finding a balance from broken to beautiful

Trauma Healing Challenge: Day 22

Today's challenge is about finding a balance in beauty. For so long I hid behind things on the outside to cover up my pain on the inside. Then I went the opposite extreme and tried to just focus on healing the inside . . . all the while forgetting what made me feel beautiful on the outside.

So today's challenge is all about figuring out where you are on that scale, after trauma has left you forgetting your confidence, and finding a balance to go from broken to beautiful. Confidence takes balance. And beauty can be found on the outside . . . and in. It is when those two align, that we find our confidence again. You cannot have one without the other.

So wether you are hiding behind gallons of makeup and thousands of dollars in high heels . . . or you are hiding in your fifteen year old track sweats and haven't left your house since last week, I hope you know you are not crazy, and you are not alone. I have been there, and so have thousands of others.

Today, even though you never asked me to . . . I give you permission to find what makes you feel beautiful on the outside, and whole on the inside . . . and see if those two working together can bring back the person you thought was lost.

To check out the makeup I am using in this video visit:
Maskcara beauty

Day 16

Becoming a victim of Trauma: what I wished I would have known. Challenge: Pray for comfort when you feel alone in a room full of people...pray for peace when you feel alone—all by yourself.

Trauma Healing Challenge: Day 2

The importance of exercise and connecting to our body. Getting moving doesn't require a gym membership or a personal trainer. Stepping outside of fear to tell our bodies we are in charge...not it. Setting goals. More energy. Establishing routines. Another step to finding you again.

Head over to YouTube to find all the videos in a playlist!