}i{

Empathy is a good thing. Empathy is necessary. There’s not enough of empathy in this world. The fighting in the world would probably cease to exist if everyone had empathy. Right?

Well, I have a problem controlling my empathy. Yes, this is a bad problem.

I’ve never known empathy to ever be a problem. As a matter of fact, the world has too much apathy and indignation and self-righteousness. Not enough people care. There’s not enough grace and love and valuing of human life.

Empathy comes very easy to me and I know that that is a miracle in and of itself. In middle and high school, I used to just rage and fight, as I was living from a central force of anger. Now, I find it a little too easy to cry when others are sad and I feel physical joy for others when there is great news. Love and compassion seem effortless as I am drawn to those that are broken-hearted and hurting. I ache for suffering and want desperately to change it and change the way it stomps out humanity. I know that all of the love and joy and empathy that I have is from God and that if left to my own depravity, I would choose to be self-involved and not care about the suffering of people, especially strangers. This empathy-prone nature sounds like such a good thing but I’ve recently learned that I have a problem guarding it.

Like anything meant for good, empathy can also be used as a tool to bring about discord. I had no idea this was happening in my own life until this week.

I’ve done a LOT of soul searching and reforming and relinquishing (to God) in the past few years. This has been the longest and deepest stretch of emotional and spiritual growth that has ever taken place in my life. This change has been painful and rough but it’s been necessary and breath-taking and glorious. For some reason, though, I couldn’t shake the fact that there was still some very deep-rooted issues going on in my life and I was struggling to find the cause. There are countless times that I will walk away from a conversation and feel like the worst person in the world. Feeling as though I just let someone gossip my ear off and talk trash about someone and I never took the high road or shined any light into the conversation. There are times when I’ll walk away from the conversation angry and upset at the person being spoken about even though they never caused me any harm. There has also been times where I’d also share my own negative feelings about (and insecurities with) people so that the conversation isn’t awkward and heavily-sided and uncomfortable. It never fails that as soon as I walk away, I feel horrible. It doesn’t happen with every conversation and I don’t feel this empathy kicking into overdrive every single time someone mentions negativity toward or about another. However, for the times that I would find myself in this situation, I’d feel like a heartless hypocrite. In my core, I know that’s a lie because I don’t know another earthly being that is more in love with humanity than I am. I have forgiven people for trauma they’ve brought on me and resumed friendships (time and time again) despite the fact that they spread gossip and lies about me. I don’t just love the loveable, I love the unloveable as well.

This isn’t a pat-myself-on-the-back blog entry. I’m admitting the fact that I’m not feeling 100% loving and full of grace all of the time and trying to figure out why it seems to tie so closely to when I’m around others. I know that the love I have can’t come from anywhere other than God. I also know that the anger I feel toward someone, after a chat with someone else, is something that I am doing wrong and something that I need to change. This is all to explain that I’ve had some fierce battles going on and I’m learning their point of arrival.

Feeling the same anger and hurt that other people feel, without ever having been hurt by the person being talked about, is showing me that I’ve let my empathy get out of control. Now that I know where this dichotomy of feeling loving but not responding so loving (even though I felt that my empathizing was loving) is coming from, I know where to bring about damage control.

With God’s help, I now know that I have to start working on guarding my empathy and using it ONLY for good.

I deactivated my Facebook account yesterday. What a freeing (near-year) venture! I’ve been pondering getting rid of Facebook for almost a year but I have always delayed because I, so desperately, want to shine a light for people. I’ve always felt that human and tangible light has been so absent in my own life. I’ve wanted to share the real (good AND bad) stuff about life. To just show people that through the pain, there is God’s goodness and God’s light shining and His beauty displayed somewhere.

This was a chat interaction, with my husband (who had/has great insight), about it all:

why deactivating? I kind of have an idea, but what made you definitive about it?

that email from [girl] yesterday

i’m tired of creating friends and families of love and acceptance when i’m just a wisp of air to people. i waste my time trying to make a presence of love and friendship and i’m not noticed when i’m gone

i’m going to try and focus on life here. real life. and real life relationships and friendships. with phone calls and email, instead of pretending by still finding out about my “friends’” lives without direct contact

ah yeah… that sounds like a really good thing: to stop surviving on the placebo of text on a screen as friendship/connection and seek real life.

sounds like a good blog entry.

You’re really good with people. People are just not that great with responding to someone who really values them for the mere fact that they are alive. it’ like a disconnect as your life-giving thing is people, and most people are not like that. They’re too selfish, or busy or overwhelmed to properly reciprocate. Or they don’t know how. The only flaw I see in all this (on your side) is your trying to find your value or worth in the way people respond to your valuing of them.

I don’t know if I’ll ever reactivate it or if I’ll delete it for good. For now, it’s a tremendous healthy decision. I put so much time and energy into loving people and cultivating relationships on Facebook, that stayed completely static. Because, I’m finally relinquishing that relationships don’t grow, souly solely, through the internet. During the times that I spent real, face to face, moments with these people, we didn’t have much to say. Facebook status updates were followed up on (or forgotten about) and questions about each other’s lives (besides what we allowed through, onto FB) was scarce. I’m seeing now that it was because we *Facebook Friends* already knew “everything” about each other. Any info there was to know, would be on status updates and pictures, right??

I would see people at church and feel no need to ask them about their lives because I felt I already knew. I had one friend that once told me I was her closest friend (and I felt the same way about her), only to have her completely stop communicating with me (and, seemingly, only me) on Facebook. Every time she responded to something going on in my life (or what I allowed through, to FB), it was a response to my status update or pictures, via texting. It was like Facebook became our interpreter for communicating with each other and a replacement to finding out about each other’s lives. Instead of actually communicating, in words, old school style… Conversations and questions at the park revolved around things posted on Facebook. Distance with family began as well. The few times we’d speak we’d make reference to knowing something about each others’ lives after seeing it posted on Facebook.

I read a blog entry from someone at my church, while they were visiting a city in Mexico. A group from our church went to Mexico to help and find out how we could help their village in the future and a question was asked amongst the group, “Would [our church] be missed if we were to withdraw?” I’ve been thinking about that quote, nearly non-stop, since I read it a few months ago. If I was to withdraw from Facebook, or any other relationship, would I be missed? Would I miss the lives that were so-called “investing” in me on there? Was I even investing? Were they investing in me or was I pouring my life into a never-ending vat? I had a realization yesterday (after I received an email that confirmed that even after 3 years of perceived relationship-building there could be absolutely nothing there) and that realization was that, through Facebook, there’s been no real investing. Into me AND from me. In the times that people have poured into my life, the deepest and most impacting, were filled with intent and purpose and real-life interaction.

I wrote off hours, every day, while on Facebook. I attributed it to my complete and utter love for people and knowing about what was going on in their lives and thinking about how I could help them. In any way. I wrote off my addiction as being evidence of a love for people and life. Instead, Facebook became my replacement to life itself. It became my god and I’m sad, but relieved, to see it go.

*Here’s* to the new real and revamping old school communication.

There’s been a stirring in me for quite some time. A restlessness unable to be transcribed. A rerooting of sorts. A split-second glimpse of part of the finished puzzle comprised of pieces of my life, finally fitting together after years of rolling them around in my hands.

I’ve become unsettled and it is good.

Attending the We Event for iEmpathize a few weeks ago, a dam burst within me… I know I have this immense empathy for people. I know I have a deep-rooted passion. I know I want to make a difference in the lives of others. I know that I want my past to stand for something good, for God, and not as it was intended by man. I know that without a college degree I am significantly limited with my ability to have a “legitimate” voice.

I also know that my motivations have always been wrong. I’ve wanted to change the world and that proposed change was unknowingly limited or viewed from a skewed perspective. I have always led from a place of pain. Focusing and leading others from the pain of my past, instead of from the endless strength of God. I told God where I’d be used and how I would be able to do so. I told God what difference I would make and in what way the people’s lives would change. I was ignorant and clueless. Living off of remnants of my disillusioned upbringing and trying to share that same disillusionment with others.

In the past year, combined with my continued focus on my past and dealing with it, I also read a significant book, Generous Justice. It kind of washed clean the mud and grit that had been distorting my view in the way I interact and view humanity as a whole. This entire process took me far beyond seeing that, when suffering and broken, human beings had a cap on their value and that it was up to me to help get them through this temporary struggle of life so that they could just eat or just get water or just ______. Just to keep them alive… Then I’d move on to others.

What happens after they receive that next meal or that clean water or those shoes or that jacket? What then? What if the cap, that we put on these lives, was infinite? What if the limits of their existence and worth went far beyond the temporary comforts that I (we) may bring? What if I took part (by God’s grace and help) in helping them truly live and love and find joy and beauty in every day and then empowering them to share that all with everyone around them?

Here’s where I stand in my unsettlement: I want to take people from being a victim (which places the power in the perpetrator) and from being just a survivor (which places the power, and keeps it, within the person that was harmed) to being a warrior of love and empowerment. I feel God steering me to lead women out of the pain of their past (and present) into DOING for good. For God.

Jase and I were talking through all of this and he had a great realization. In cases of sexual abuse, the fallout is usually to clam up / brush it under the rug / detach OR the result is to crumble / completely shred the life that was given you. But I want to know where the freaking warriors are. I want to find the women that can link arms with me and become a front-line toward helping those in need and giving them hope that they can rise up and succeed and make a difference in this world. I want to stand on the shit from my past and make it a strong foundation for doing good in Jesus’ name.

I am also tired of being on this island. With all of the women I’ve know in my life (and keeping the stat of *1 out of every 3 or 4 have been sexually abuse* at the forefront) I’ve only know a few to have been sexually abused. Or only a few have ever shared that with me. That is ridiculous to me.. that this kind of travesty can be so drenched in silence. In this silence, we give so much power and authority to those that have abused and they can continue doing so, while we stand idly / apathetically on the side lines.

So, here I am, ready to be a warrior. To fight. To stop listening to the enemy in his quest to smother me and grind me to a pulp. To stand up against the lies that I am nothing, that I am worthless and to start believing and focusing on God’s Truth. I want to make a difference. I want to serve and to lead and to learn and grow and water and shine. I want to stop hiding in fear and I want to share this light. Part of this recent unsettling is that I want to (finally) learn spanish, fluently, and that I want to (finally) take a mechanic class. I “see” myself opening an auto repair shop. For women, by women. I want to overcome my fear of other countries and lead women toward changing lives around them. I want to start by making a big change in the immediate “world” around me.

My prayer is that this will help at least one person and that person may not be you… so look away, hide me, delete me, or ignore me if this makes you feel uncomfortable.

I was raised in San Diego. My family (immediate and generational) had some very strong convictions with the Baptist and Evangelical demonations denominations. I am a christian and this is a story about how I’m trying to live my life the exact opposite of my christian upbringing.

As a mom, a wife, a sister, a daughter, and a friend that follows Jesus, I have committed my life to these promises. I will share words like sex and drugs to my children and I will teach them to love Rock and Roll. I refuse to brush problems under the rug and I refuse to let time run its course over heart-wrenching trauma; making the wounds deeper and bandaid-covered gashes infected and seemingly irreparable. I won’t allow secrets to fester in the darkness. I will demand honesty and not be hypocritical with honoring that honesty. I will encourage myself and my children to dance, especially when the beat makes people think we’re going to hell. I will foster, and deeply grow, relationships with people. Not because of what I will gain or “what heaven will gain” but because I love all people as they were made in the image of Christ. I will show love and grace just as I’ve been shown grace and love. I will allow people to choose whatever path they desire and not write them off as a lost cause for choosing the “incorrect” path. I will NEVER shoot the wounded or maim the broken, nor will I spread their stories in the sharing of “prayer requests.” I will forever help people out of their shitty pits of manure, whether they placed themselves there or not. I will never give up in trying to find ways in helping the broken and the needy, even when I’m not enough to fix it all, because *fixing it all* is not my job anyway. I will give people grace, no matter how many chances I’ve given them in the past. I refuse to place myself on any higher ground or pedestal in my living and thinking, especially when it comes to my thoughts on God, Jesus and my relationship in and through that. I will never condemn or chastise. I will never hold a picket sign in condemnation of another soul or against a person’s actions. Unless it’s found in the bible, I will never claim I know how or what God is feeling or deciding. In everything and in all of who I am, I will mirror the Jesus I admire and follow. I will graciously love and help, heal and fight for, walk and share meals with the lost, the broken, the needy, widows and orphans, the abused, the down-trodden, people on the fringe, outcasts and the “losers.” Because when it comes down to it, we’re all in the same boat anyway. And if I can forgive a molesting uncle and rapists because of the forgiveness given to me, then there HAS to be hope for me and everyone else…

More than just a cry for mercy, this title is also an update on the latest happenings in my life and the lives of my family. And boy is it a DOOZY!

It seems the roller coaster of life just keep on rolling, keeps on spinning and sending us on death-defying loops and surges. Life has been absolutely insane lately. Oddly, I’ve never felt more confident that God is who He says He is and will do all that He promised in carrying us through the mud and manure.

Since Kindergarten, Malakai has had issues in the social environments at school. Since infancy, he’s had issues with textures. Since the age of two, he’s had a very particular way of organizing and obsessing about things. Like, organizing every vehicle in his room to line up perfectly on his bed and freaking out if they became misaligned or arranging every single kitchen utensil into a perfectly straight arch on the kitchen floor. Since starting school, he’s had issues with noise and light sensitivities and with interacting with peers and teachers. He has a lot of triggers in what sets him off into “shutdown mode” or “meltdowns” and it’s been a decade of hit and miss with figuring out where his freak-out meltdowns come from and how to calm him down. We knew there was something going on with him, but we had no idea what it was. On a referral from his school counselor (thinking he may have OCD and impulse control issues), Malakai started seeing a Community Reach counselor at the end of 2010 who quickly diagnosed him with a disorder that we had never heard of. I researched and found similarities in the symptoms to Malakai but since it didn’t line up perfectly, we wrote it off thinking the counselor pulled this out of his hat. Needless to say, we knew something was going on with him and fifth grade became a very transitional year as social interactions and classroom time were becoming increasingly difficult. Because of these issues as well as the fact that we had an extremely long list of problems with his fifth grade teacher and with the way he was treating Malakai, we pulled Malakai out of school. He had six weeks of fifth grade left but we couldn’t allow him to continue in the negative environment he was being forced into. For the first time in his life, he was saying that he wouldn’t finish assignments and was acting as if he didn’t care that he wanted to quit everything. His teacher would belittle him and single him out from the other students and showed us many, many signs of acting as if he could *save* Malakai from the issues Malakai had displayed at school. After emailing this teacher, numerous times, and meeting with him and the staff at the school, we were told there was no place for Malakai to go to finish out the year if we took him from his fifth grade class. So, we removed him from the school. Thankfully, I love researching and although I spent hours researching homeschool and education laws/rules online, I found it was actually quite an easy process (after remembering that the school and district aren’t in control of our children… WE are) to file an intent to homeschool. It also happened to work out perfectly that we pulled him the Friday before Spring Break so he already had a week off school in the works. During Spring Break, we went down the the local school supply store and stocked up on planners and workbooks and got to work figuring out a schedule that would be cohesive to Malakai’s learning style. There were some ruts in the road and some push-back but, overall, it was a pretty easy and smooth process and Malakai was relieved to be away from the poisonous environment that had begun to suffocate him.

In the spring of this year, before taking him out of school, due to the increased problems between Malakai and school and even in the classrooms he took part in at church, we started the lengthy and frustrating process of finding a psychologist that would be able to provide a Psychological Evaluation for him. We needed someone to go through the entire scope of testing and tell us what they felt was going on because we were at a loss, which put us at a loss as to how we could best help him in all areas of his life. Malakai began needing to check into the buddy-system at our church, at the beginning of this year, so he could consistently have someone with him to provide support as well as accountability. The lady that directs that part of our church taught high school special ed for over 30 years and said she was interested in what this Psych Eval would discover, because she had her own thoughts on what was going on with Malakai.

On August 5th, we received the Psych Eval results and it agreed with what the Community Reach counselor and our retired special ed teacher / friend assumed: Malakai has Asperger’s Syndrome.

Just writing that out made my head feel like it’s gonna explode. Not out of fear or any negative thought of what that means but because I truly have no idea what that means. I’ve spent the last 3 weeks, researching and scanning every medical and blog site that I’ve found. I’ve researched locals groups and organizations that care for children with Asperger’s. I spent at least 2 hours of every day, sometimes much more, reading about as much as I can about this diagnosis and it’s showed me two things. One, I absolutely believe Malakai has Asperger’s. I’m a total skeptic and I don’t jump on anything labeled a Bandwagon. If a physician is giving me a diagnosis, I’ll research that sucker until either it or I am blue in the face. Thankfully, I’ve got memories and pictures that reassure me that my child has been dealing with something for quite some time and it’s not just some random dx that a doc wants to pull from their ass. The second thing thing I’ve learned, in all of my 3 weeks of straight research is this, I still don’t know what the hell this all means. I’m overwhelmed with information and somehow unable to figure out which way is up so that I can catch my breath. I realized, this week, that it’s like I’ve got a million puzzle pieces and I have no idea how they all fit together. Maybe I’ve got the corners and edges all lined up and figured out but the middle part that houses the DNA of the puzzle is a confusing and frustrating wonder. Although, I made sure to send off an email to his former 5th grade teacher, and the staff at Malakai’s elementary school, to share with them the fact that I hope they never again generalize or try and shove any other student into their pre-formed box. **Side note** I shared with Malakai’s fifth grade teacher that we felt there was something going on, deeply, with Malakai and that we were pursuing a psych eval to see if there’d be a diagnosis. His teacher responded with, “Hm. I don’t think so… he is EXTREMELY smart. I don’t see anything wrong with him.” Sounds like the educator needs to get educated…**End side note** This diagnosis also opened up the floodgates of grace so we’ve able to see that most meltdowns happen as a result of us not planning properly for his triggers. Even still, I’ve got the world at my fingertips and I’m frozen in not knowing how to proceed or what steps to start taking in regard to groups and professional help.

Oh yeah, life.

Along with all of that hodgepodge, I’ve got my life and the lives of my husband and my girls balancing up in the air.

For me, once we got the results, I was relieved to finally have an answer. A solidified, test-results-based, insightful answer. An answer that didn’t have to do with, “He’s just rebellious.” “He just needs more discipline.” “He needs to stop watching Harry Potter.” “Surround your house with prayers.” Dear God… as if our trial and error circus wasn’t enough. So, I was relieved, AND overwhelmed, but mostly relieved and I jumped into research / MamaBear mode. This has been sort of world-flipping though, as I feel I’ve not had any alone time for three straight weeks. I permanently quit my part-time job (I had stepped down several weeks earlier due to personal stuff going on between my mom, which is my boss, and my dad and our family but I was hopeful in returning at some point). Due to quitting permanently, I had to pull Cali from her preschool since we couldn’t afford her school AND a second car without a second job. I also wanted to be sure I wasn’t stretching myself thin in worrying about three different schools and a job and household and this thing called Asperger’s. In the midst of all of this, I’m still trying to maintain my sanity. I’m working hard to complete a book that I’ve been reading for a year, Wounded Heart, and work on all that that entails. Which is working on some DEEP, DEEP wounded stuff. So, I’m overwhelmed with everything that being a person on a road to recovery / a mom / wife entails. I’m also wishing that I had a really good core group of dependable friends right about now.

Jase has also been going through some stuff. Our overwhelmed hearts are best explained, by Jase, here.

The girls are still flittering and floating about. It takes even more intentional effort to make sure these girls don’t fall by the wayside but I think we are are pulling it off. Cali loves being at home with me so it wasn’t very painful to remove her from school. She actually requested it since there was always a bribe (of a Starbucks pink cake pop) to go to school every day. She loved it but it was an effort to get there. Zoë is back in school and LOVING it. She thrives in a school environment so she’s at home now that school is back in session.

Speaking of school, Malakai had the worst first week of school that I’ve ever heard about. The prep-meeting that I had, back in May, with the new school director and counselor as well as the elementary counselor basically did nothing. The explanation of  what did and did not work as well as speaking about the behavior plan and his triggers did nothing to help them prepare for his arrival. Because, they planned nothing. I basically threw him to the wolves on his first week of sixth grade. He was instantly targeted and outcasted and the staff were much too overwhelmed in their new, busy magnet school, that they couldn’t wear enough hats to provide the safe environment that Malakai needed. Knowing all I knew from the research I did, in May, we pulled him from public school again. For the last time. Currently enrollment forms have been sent and we’re waiting on word of approval for a free public online schooling option for Malakai. Creating our own schedule, in the comfort of a loving home environment seems to be the best path. At least for right now.

So, here we are. Researching-gone-mad and stuck in the ethernets of possibilities. Thankfully, we know who we’re hanging on to during this crazy ride and we’re trusting to come out a little tattered but also a LOT stronger and wiser.

Besides my life path change in 1996, 2010 was the most defining year of my life. I’ve learned so much about myself in the last year, things that I never would have believed were true. I learned that I’m judgmental. I learned that I am codependent. I learned that I cared more about trying to control the way people view me, rather than how I was treating my husband and my children. I learned that I cared much more deeply about the opinions of strangers and acquaintances than I did those that truly love me. I painfully learned that there are people that will judge me and dislike me, no matter how much I try to win their praise and adoration. I learned that I don’t need anyone’s praise or adoration. I learned that volunteering, at least at this point in time, in the children’s ministry and youth ministry caused me to be much too distant from my own flesh and blood. I’ve learned that what I do, does not define who I am. I learned that there are lots of people that I considered a friend that actively try to avoid / ignore me, rather than speak truth into my life. I’ve learned that I’m ok without their friendship, without their approval, without their false smile. I’ve learned that I’ve lived most of my life envying the accomplishments of many people. I learned that I froze in that envy, preventing me from pursuing my own dreams and changing my life for the better. I’ve learned that I can find value in my life without feeling like people “need” me. I’ve learned to (finally / really) start taking care of my mental and physical well-being and to keep it consistent.

I’m learning to be more like the moon. Reflecting the sun, rather than trying to be the sun.

It’s a long and difficult road, but I’m also learning how to keep my heart and mind clean because I want it to make a difference in the lives of those that I care about the most.

“First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.” Matthew 23:26

In the last year, I’ve gone through so much and have written a lot of heavy posts. That will now change. I feel like I’m finally coming to a place, in this blog, where I’m able to dually balance updates on good AND bad. This blog started out so positive and then crap, from my past, hit the fan. Sorting through that has been rough but it’s taught me to appreciate the good times, even more.

For the most part, I don’t think my kids (or marriage) suffered many emotional scars. Life, in our little family, is becoming better organized and better focused on goodness and on making positive memories.

Malakai is in his last year of elementary school (Eek!) and still involved with Gifted and Talented (GT) and the Chess Club. Since Kindergarten, he has had social issues at school and doesn’t have many friends but he clings to the challenge that GT brings and loves the Chess Club. He was on the honor roll last year, in fourth grade, as having a 3.4 or better. He’s enamored with math and science but still loves to play music on his drums and creating songs on GarageBand. He’s constantly telling me that he needs lyrics printed, after hearing songs on the local “christian radio station,” and then he’ll spend around thirty minutes, playing those songs from memory. He’s amazing and extremely talented at brain challenges and music. I spent this past weekend relaxing, in the mountains with friends. During that time, my mom took the girls for twenty-four hours, while Jase spent that time with Malakai. Just the two of them. This moment was planned a while ago, so that they could spend some time bonding and because it was time for… well… The Talk. Awkward! Jase is a fantastic teacher, in general, and I trust him (COMPLETELY) with teaching our children great values when it comes to sexuality. They tapped into a lot more than just the overall subject matter that The Talk brings and it bonded a father and son, together, a lot tighter than their rough past with each other ever saw coming. I’m so proud of Jase and so glad that Malakai has such an amazing role model to admire. A weekend excerpt that I loved hearing about: Jase is trying to plant “seeds” into Kai’s memory. Over the weekend, he wrote two on separate pieces of paper, called them “fortune cookies” and had Kai memorize and repeat them back to Jase. All weekend, Kai kept these in his pocket. #1 Be careful with what you choose to do about what you like. #2 The right thing at the wrong time is the wrong thing. Jase and Malakai went to a church service together and, at one point, the pastor said something that made Kai’s mind click with one of the “fortunes.” Kai looked up at Jase, with wild-eyed excitement, pointed to his pocket and said, “My fortune!” That was the highlight of the weekend and such a turning point for father and son.

In one week, Zoe has lost her two front teeth! On both, she diligently worked on twisting and pulling them free. For a child that has been so dramatic with pain and injuries, I’m sooooo proud of her. Without those teeth, I suppose I should now teach her the Christmas song, “All I Want For Christmas.” She’s still the calm, kind, joy-filled child, that she has been since birth. However, she has very rare occasions where she strongly voices her opinion with Cali getting in her space, ruining something of hers or bothering her. She has a lot more patience than most children her age and certainly a lot more than me. She got that from her father. Zoe got glasses this year and recently has been referred for another eye exam since, with her glasses on, she has 20/40 vision. However, that doesn’t stop her. Zoe is EXTREMELY creative (still ) and is constantly making crafts or writing letters to people. Lately, she’s been adding flare to her handwriting. She’ll add lots of swirls to the end of letters/words and decorates the envelopes with color and style. This year, I’ve given up control of her wardrobe and I’ve allowed her to create her own outfits. It’s no lie that it’s been horribly difficult for me to bite my tongue and keep my mouth shut with her knee high socks, capri leggings and shirts that never match. It’s been a challenge, for sure. But I have really loved that we’re allowing her to be herself and HER personality is allowed to shine. She’s also extremely bright and excels, not only in math and science but, in every other subject as well. She’s a social butterfly and the only thing her teacher has to “complain” about is that she sometimes talks and giggles too much. Currently, she’ll tell you that her favorite subject is recess and that she spends her recess chasing boys. Oh no…

Cali is STILL ready to go to school. Just like her older siblings, she loves learning and picks it up really quick. She’s been wanting to go to “Cool” for over two years now. So, going to her class at church and being watched for an hour, at the local rec center, has her very excited. Without a job and since she’s still not potty-trained (at three years old), it’s difficult to find a place to send her to school. Every diaper change, we remind her that she’s a big girl and she should use the toilet. She’s very uninterested and I refuse to force her. So, hopefully, she’ll choose to get rid of these diaper$ $oon. Her most favorite thing to do is to make people “dinno.” My parents have a plastic kid’s kitchen set in their basement and she’ll spend hours, preparing imaginary meals for everyone. She has a fantastic imagination and is currently loving having long conversations to imaginary people and talking to them on her pink, plastic, toy cell phone. The other day, she asked her “mommy” a question and I answered her from my spot in the living room. To which, she corrected me as she pointed to the kitchen saying, “No, I’m talking to my mommy and daddy in the kitchen.”

Jase is still working for a company where he creates, builds and fixes all things computery, at a survey company in Boulder. He recently went on a men’s weekend mountain trip and had his mind blown for God. He has a pretty amazing blog entry, about this epiphany, here. He’s also trying to wrap up a pretty large side project so, we’re trying to squeeze in as much time as possible with each other and with him and the kids. Mostly, he works on these projects on weeknights, after me and the kids have gone to bed. I’m pretty sure that JUST he and I will be going on a little vacation when this particular side job is complete. Our vacation, to Seattle, was amazing but left no time,/energy/experience for Jase and I to be with each other. Everything has revolved around the kids lately, so we’re aching to have some time, alone, together.

Jase’s mom (Honey) and dad (Bumpa) have both, separately, visited us for several days this year. Both weekends they were here, I was on the schedule to sing at church so I didn’t get too much time with them. Thankfully, Jase and the kids did. Jase’s dad took them all up to Estes Park and rented horses, for an hour trail ride and then went to a little pond and tried to catch some fish. They all had a blast! Jase’s mom had a very relaxing visit with the kids where she upgraded Malakai’s tortured drumset, with new heads and snare beads. She got Cali a new bike (a big girl bike, with training wheels) and left money for Zoe to buy, her choice, of some cute new clothes. My parents have still been AMAZING with hanging out with us and loving on the kids and watching them, at least, once a week. They’ve watched them for Jase and I to have mini date night adventures or while I spend a few hours volunteering my time at the church offices to help out with the admin portion of student ministries.

Speaking of me and student ministries, I just completed my third talk, on Tuesday last week. I still don’t know why, but at the beginning of the summer, I was asked (along with two other volunteers) to speak to the students over the summer. The last talk of the summer (my last) had to be cancelled so that we could help with food distribution at a local food shelter. During a church staff retreat they had no one to lead a talk, so, I was asked to fill in. I start talking about 29 mins in, but here is a link. Because I have an amazing husband that loves his children (and me!), I’m able to help out with student ministries, sing there and sing for an entire weekend at our church, once a month. I don’t have a job and I don’t get paid, but I sure do feel paid in being able to stay home with my kids, reach out to teenagers and use my voice for good. I’m thankful that my incredible husband is so gracious in helping me do all of that.

Jase and I have both been focusing a lot more on self-care. In the past couple of weeks, Jase has been up at 5am and I’ve been up at 6am to walk, run or bike in the open space near our home. It’s been a great experience to finally start getting our bodies into a healthy place. Kai has joined me on every trip and has been an amazing coach and encourager and Zoe has also gotten up early enough to join on us on a couple of these trips.

Last weekend, we went to a farm with my parents, and it was a blast. There was a hay AND corn maze, animals to pet, and pumpkins, apples and honey to buy. We had a LOT of fun. Especially in the corn maze, where we all got turned around and lost. Malakai LOVED following an old steam tractor around the grounds, just soaking in the mechanics of it all and the girls LOVED the hay maze. I think Cali’s favorite was being able to pet the animals. Fall is Jase’s favorite season of the year and it sure is coming in for a close tie with my favorite season, spring. Happy Fall!

In July, we finally settled our car accident claim. I never felt completely comfortable with getting an attorney. I met with one and there were too many red flags. Especially in the fact of how much money she would end up getting, in the end. I don’t like gambling and it felt like it would be such a gamble to invest in an attorney and not end up with much more than the initial settlement offer. So, I got the insurance company to raise their offer enough to feel like I wasn’t getting ripped off and to a place where I felt compensated for everything I’ve gone through. I still second guess settling though but my psyche was worn down so low, I don’t think I (or my family) could have handled any more. What a ride…

I immediately paid off $12k in medical bills, which ended up turning into weeks of phone calls and playing phone tag and running payment errands and trying and re-trying to pay bills over the phone. All of this, while the kids were STILL home from summer break. *sidenote* I have some advice. If you’re going to get in an accident, plan for it to happen while the kids are still in school. Then, you’ll have the time and energy to recover and deal with the hell of it all. That advice will save some of your sanity.*end sidenote*

Then, I began the humongo job of planning a long-overdue and much-needed family vacation. When the process to settle this insurance claim first started, in March, Jase and I began talking about where that money would go. We knew we had debt to pay off, along with all of the debt accumulated from the accident. However, we also knew that our summer sucked. It was horribly stressful on our marriage, our children, our bodies, and our schedule. So… we needed a break. I’ll be adding another post, specifically about that trip.

Once the insurance check came in, the healing process officially began. My brain is becoming organized again and my back has slowly decreased in tension. I still have physical issues, but the strain of feeling like I was being sucked into a black hole, is dissipating so I know that I’ll continue down the path to recovery. Through all of this, I’ve quickly learned that my stress is carried in my back. I’ve finally started a routine of exercise as well, and as soon as my core is strengthened, I’m sure that my back pain will drastically decrease.

Through this experience, I’ve also learned how to appreciate my husband and children more. I’m trying to be more diligent in spending quality time with them. In the past couple of weeks, Jase and I have been up between 5am and 6am and, separately, ran or walked in the open space near our home. I’ve had Malakai and Zoe come with me a couple of times and it’s the most amazing bonding experience and start to a day. I love that I’m able to do things that help heal me AND grow me closer to my kids, especially after they’ve been so neglected lately.

Confidence is a tricky thing. If you have too much, you’re arrogant and annoying and if you don’t have enough, you’re self-deprecating and annoying. The line in-between is thin and tough to find but I think I’m beginning to recognize it. I’ve wanted to swing as far away from arrogance, as possible, but it has left me constantly beating myself up and never being “good enough.” My *lip service* has always been that I’m good, just as I am, and people should be happy with that. I should be happy with that. But my counter-actions and feelings were a LOT stronger than those words. In everything I do; as a mom, a wife, a friend, a mentor, a daughter, a sister, and a singer, it’s never been good enough for me. Conversations could have improved, time spent with a teenager or my children or my husband could have been increased, singing a certain part could have been different and better, my house could look nicer. I was never happy with my end results. The more self-deprecating I was, the more withdrawn I became and the more off-key (vocally/emotionally/spiritually) I was. In everything I did and with everything I was, I was discontent and it’s a very depressing state of mind.

In the last several weeks, though, I’ve realized that this state of mind existed because I was placing my worth on my own unrealistic expectations. By doing that, I wasn’t allowing God to just *be* in/with/through me.

It’s a tough path to stay on but I’ve got a bounce back in my step and my shoulders are settling back a little more firmly and my head is lifting a lot higher. I’m feeling a new and strange sense of confidence that I’ve never had before and it’s exhilarating. I’m learning to tell the difference between confidence and arrogance and it’s such a freeing place to be. I’m learning how to give everything my all and then give it over to God and not dwell on it. No matter the outcome.

I’m not naive but I have a feeling that the episodes of beating myself up will slowly disappear, because I’ve already seen and felt a difference in the last few weeks.

So, there it is, I’m a change in progress and I’m gonna try and stop being so pathetic.

When I was barely eighteen years old, I rear-ended a lady’s vehicle with mine. We had both been stopped at a stop sign and when I thought she was pulling into the intersection, she, instead, put on her brakes. This stupid act of irresponsibility (on my part) caused a year-long, life-changing drama to unfold. Having never been in an accident before, I had no idea what to do. Right after vehicle contact, we pulled into a parking lot across the street and I got out and asked if she was ok. She stated yes and I checked both vehicles for damage and found none. My brother had been in my passenger seat and based on how close his head was to the windshield and the fact that he had a baseball hat on, backwards, his head hit the windshield and caused a crack. He was not injured, though, and there was no other visible damage. So, I (being young and ignorant) left the scene. This incident then turned into a year long process of being sued and brought to court, with a full-on jury and me getting on the dreaded witness stand. This girl was suing me for over fifty thousand dollars. She claimed to have severe injuries, though doctor’s couldn’t prove this and stated that any pain or strain in her shoulder/neck area was quite possibly due to her topless-dancing-waitress job. She also claimed to have extensive damage to her vehicle, though she could not produce one picture or receipt proving this fact. The jury found in my favor and even had her pay my lawyer’s fees. Based on this experience and from that day forward, I vowed to never put anyone through the pain of a lawsuit.

That is, until three months ago, when our family/van was rear-ended. Instantly, I had family members stating I could “get millions” and that maybe this was God’s way of providing a better financial situation for our family. In shock and disgust at the materialism of it all, I wrote off all of the superficial comments.

However, I never thought that this accident would turn my life upside down like it has been. I never realized that my children and my husband, my house, my physical body and psyche would be as negatively affected as it has been. Several times, I’ve felt like my pain, from my torn discs and protrusions, would be never ending. On several occasions I wished I wasn’t a stay-at-home mom and that I could take “normal” sick days from work. For three months, I’ve been in pain, almost every day. For several weeks, I was in physical therapy a couple of times a week. I never realized how hard it would be to coordinate car rentals and car repairs and physical therapy and MRIs, XRAYs, insurance phone calls, and coordinate medical billing, all while managing a house and three children. It’s been intense. Overwhelming. I’ve never felt as unraveled and disheveled as I’ve been for the past three months. To make matters worse, after two weeks of being nearly pain-free I developed shingles. Dear God. Having this for the last two weeks has been a serving of intense that I wouldn’t have dreamed on my worst enemy. Also, the claims adjustor for the at-fault insurance company told me, over three weeks ago, that she would have a settlement quote for me exactly three weeks ago, today. She’s been on vacation while making me believe she’d be working on my case and she’s stated that she’s had “all medical records” only to make me wait for days while she tracked down more medical records. That’s happened twice now. Three weeks ago, I was done. I just wanted to close this case and move on with my life. I wanted to move past the point of medical offices and hospital providers contacting me for payment. I wanted to move past the paranoia of making notes and saving files on EVERYTHING regarding this case. I wanted to move past the fear and shock of having a laptop, full of pages of notes on this accident, possibly being on a dead hard-drive and not retrievable. I wanted to start all over and allow my children to again see, the carefree mom that loved to find ways of making them laugh and smile every day. I just wanted to be compensated for the money that I was already out and to pay off the $15k+ in medical bills.

I’m not the only one that was affected by this accident, though, and I see that now. So, after three months of dealing with the chaos of it all, I contacted a lawyer’s office this week. I don’t know what the outcome will be but I know I need to start with getting a second opinion. I just hate that I have to be so close to the line that was so wrong, years ago.