Day 3: My Favorite Holiday

Makes me feel like a kid every time!

Day 2: Makes Me Laugh

I think this picture says it all! He is my little boss bunny.

Summer Fun

Starting today I am taking on a challenge. Just a little something fun to do this summer, I am going to be starting a 60 day photo challenge.  Why? Well, 1. it sounds like fun. 2. I like a challenge and making sure I take and post one pick a day will be a challenge and rewarding when I finish. And 3. I want to see my world a little more, a little different. To challenge what I see as beautiful, interesting, creative or just silly.
I might give explanation to my photos or I might feel the pic speaks for itself. Also feel free to let me know what you think. And of course since this is me, there will probably be a few times when I just can't decide on one and will post a few. :-D
 Well here is my first one.
A Self Portrait:

A Sisterhood No One Wants To Join

Well mother's day is coming as it does every year and I am preparing.  Not to celebrate what is a joyous day for so many blessed women, but to survive the most gut wrenching, heart breaking day of the year. And to most I will do so in silence because I don't want to bring down their special day and because so few truly understand.

Mothers day is such a hard day for me because I am not a mother, have never been, and not for a lack of trying, will never be.  

I spent my childhood like a lot of girls, playing house and dreaming of having my own family someday. I grew up knowing that I would work and then when I had children I felt called that I would be a stay-at-home mom. I dreamt of a having 10 children and in the early years of marriage my Ex and I chose names for all of them. I prayed for each of them by name for years. I also prayed that God would give me wisdom, patients, lots of love, gentleness, firmness, and understanding. I wanted to be an awesome mom.

My Ex and I tried for 10 years to conceive.  That was 120 babies that never happened.  120 toothless smiles I would never see. 120 giggles I would never hear.  120 wet, drooling kisses I would never receive. I *desired to feel a tiny hand holding mine. Longing to hear “Mommy, I love you.”*

Most people don't understand this type of heart break. They try to be supportive and give encouragement, suggestions or * unsolicited advice about how i should “just relax”, go on a vacation or adopt. I didn't want another sarcastic offer of “please take my kids.” along with the admonition to be thankful for my freedom.*  It just piled on the hurt. If it was just that easy don't you think I would have tried that? *Friends offered consolation that I was “still young” and had “plenty of time”, but their comfort was hollow.* Heck even my ex didn't begin to understand until after we had stopped trying. *Instead, I plastered a half hearted smile on my face, gave a vague answer about “someday”* and moved on while regaining my composure.

Being around children had its ups and downs and my job played a huge role in that. I was a Nanny. I loved children and it was a perfect fit and honor to help raise other people's children while I waited for my own. but that was a two edged sword because on the down days it was torture. Holding, snuggling and loving other peoples children and knowing that I didn't have any. Seeing a child miss their parents when they left, or the extreme joy on their little faces when mom and dad would get home, off they would go running for hugs and kisses, never wanting put down. Knowing that I wasn't missed like that or loved like that by my own little one tore at me. I would go to sleep at night crying, my heart aching, and my arms empty. Crying wasn't only at night though. Snuggling with the baby, rocking him before his nap, kissing his little nose, wishing he was my own, and tears sliding down my face. And of course  the best, being in church and seeing a bright pair of angel eyes peeking over the top of the seat in front , catching my eye and smiling with a little wave, And I would leave in front of everyone as quickly as possible so as not to embarrass myself, bawling in the middle of worship.

I felt broken, a failure, *unable to achieve something as “basic” as motherhood*, The most basic purpose of being female and I couldn't do it. So what good was I?

*I kept wondering what criteria God was using in the allotment of offspring.* Why did people who didn't seem to want children get them, and I was left empty? And *if children are a blessing, what does infertility mean?* *I found my faith floundering. When each moment, hour, day, and week seemed to break my heart a little more, I truly felt I would die if God asked me to endure years of childlessness.*

It took a lot years and a lot of prayer, crying, and yelling at God. I wanted answers to my questions. I can't say that I have ever really received any answers and I don't know if I ever will. There are plan for my life and only He knows what those are. **The Lord gifts people in many different ways. He has chosen to give me the gift of infertility. It is a gift that I never wanted. I spent years trying to deny, refuse, refund, or exchange this gift before finally, and with many tears, accepting it. God only gives good gifts, and I am continually learning that He chose to make me infertile because He loves me. He has bigger dreams for me then I even have for myself. I invested years and money into trying to conceive, but the Lord repeatedly confirmed that my gift would not be pregnancy. Through one heartbreaking disappointment after another, the Lord was humbling me and drawing me closer to Him. How many times did I crawl into my heavenly Father's lap and cry, pouring out my heart to Him, begging for my blessing? After years of trying, the Lord performed a miracle. He brought peace to my heart. Infertility has left indelible marks on who I am, but I am stronger, better, and more in love with the Lord then I was before. Infertility is not an easy gift to bear, but I am learning day by day to thank the Lord for it.**

I had decided to take one last year before giving up trying but God had different plans for that year. As the months went by I felt a peace begin to fill me that I was going to be ok not having my own children. What I thought was going to be one last hard year was actually comforting. None of my questions have been answered. I still don't know why infertility was Gods plan for me but I'm ok with that. As painful as it was to come to this point, I can say that I am ok with not having a baby now. Don't get me wrong, I still have down times, or moments that catch me off guard.  Like seeing a pic of the BF grinning and holding a baby or interacting with little ones. I would have loved to see him as a father with little ones. Or hearing too much of others being pregnant. Or receiving multiple pics from the ex of his sister's new baby. Or mothers day when everyone is saying how blessed mothers are and how there is no greater joy, gives me twinges of sadness. Ok, I will be honest, its like a knife wound sometimes, but not always.

I try to remember that I have been part of  5 little ones lives, and that I have special relationships with each of them. I have also been blessed to briefly be apart of so many other little ones lives. Though its not the same as having my own, I treasure each and every one of them more then they will ever know.

*There are some things I can change, while for others I must seek the Lord's wisdom to endure my circumstances with grace.*  And for those down times I have to stop and *ask God to give me grace to survive the moment.*

The parts between the *’s are taken from the book  Hannah’s Hope by Jennifer Saake. I read this book many times over that last year of trying.  I still reread parts of it on occasion for encouragement. I used her words because they echoed my heart exactly, but they are her words.  

**Contributed by Denise England and changed to be more personal for me and also from the book.

Darkness and Light

This is just something I wrote back in 2009 that I just found. Just posting it here to share and as a holding place. Enjoy. 



Darkness builds like a giant wave gaining strength before it crashes across my mind. Pulling, dragging me from where I want to be, deeper into darkness. I say HIS name, just barely a whisper through the howling wind. HE is my comfort, my hope, light in the darkness of this day.

I think my memories are a form of torture I use against myself in the dark lonely hours of the night. At least HE is always awake to keep me company on this night.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sleep comes and goes, the day is... blank. No pain and no joy... empty, drained.
HE is waiting... always waiting.
HE is the light of dawn.
Emptiness now covers like a fog, hiding everything just past it's veil. Hiding HIM.
I should look for HIM, HE is never far. In the light, in the darkness, in the fog, HE is there. Waiting to take my hand and pull me close to Him. Waiting to guild me through the fog... waiting. Do I look for HIM? The fog thickens with a hypnotizing numbness. My eyes can not see through this fog to find HIM. HE whispers to me in that still small voice I've heard before and comfort washes over me. The trance is broken and for a moment and I see the form of someone in the fog. I'm not alone. I peer into the haze straining to see past this veil that blinds me. I step blindly, I try and I try, if I can just...
I stop... lost. 
In this emptiness I slowly reach out my hand... and HE is there. HE was waiting. HE pulls me close and I hear HIS voice again, clear and strong. HIS light cuts through the haze that I walked into once again. Quiet healing peace surrounds me. I breath deep HIS embrace and I snuggle close on the lap of my FATHER. I am safe.

The Cost of Silence

     I feel that listening to inner promptings is an important aspect of communication. How important it can be to follow inner promptings to seek others out. How will others know you care or are thinking of them if you don't let them know. I feel that often when someone crosses your mind there is a reason. You don't know if they might be going through something or are feeling alone and could use a friend. Or if that one small gesture of a "Hi" might open them up to come to you at a later time when they need it most. They might not be at a point where they feel comfortable responding, but knowing that there is someone out there that cares can mean the world.
     There is a huge cost of silence that I don't think people pay much attention to. I know how easy it can be to think of people, hope they are doing well, pray for them and leave it at that. We don't want to interrupt their lives, or have our outreach be rejected, or we just don't know what to say, so we say nothing. But silence can be damaging.  Even just a quick "hi" or "thinking of you" can mean the so much.
     I had bits and pieces of  the poem that follows running through my head one night so I felt the need to get it out of my head and post it. I don't believe it is peoples intentions but its the feelings I have experienced from my specific situation.

      

The Cost of Silence

Do you know the cost of silence? How it ripples through a soul? Comes across as judgment or abandonment untold. Friendships and acquaintances crumbled with a breeze? Years of cherished fellowship fall with apparent ease?

The teachings as I understood were never followed through. Tax collectors and unsaved were treated with contempt. But what of love and witnessing or a little bit of grace? It wasn't seen, it wasn’t done, it hardly shown its face.

Numbers counted on one hand the lives that shown His love. But fear and shame held the few away, unable to explain. A trust was broke, a vow just words, a covenant was raped. Of loneliness, abandonment, hurt, fear and untold pain.

The cost of silence so much greater than most will ever sence. My choice alone, decisions made, I pay the consequence.

Just something to think about. The impact and influence you can have on someones life. Who has crossed your mind recently?

My Birthday Fun

      I have wanted to post again for a while now. I started one but it has been taking awhile for me to work out what I want to say. So it sits and waits patiently as I add a little too it here and there.

      Also for the past week my allergies have been freaking out. I have been trying to stop the inevitable. When my allergies freak I usually end up getting sick. Pneumonia or Bronchitis are my old faithful’s and they try to show up about once a year. Though I was lucky they stayed away the past 2 years. 

      Soooo,

      My boyfriend surprised me wonderfully for my birthday this weekend!

      He scheduled a haircut and makeup session. I went short and had highlights put in. It is super different and fun for the summer.  

      We had diner at my favorite pizza place with my family. 

      A dozen roses! (I have never had a dozen roses before) and some other flowers. 

     Then we went for karaoke afterward with my BF, cousin and hubby. 

      By the end of the night I had basically lost my voice. By the time we got home the coughing had begun. The BF told me that I would not be getting a birthday kiss because I had gone viral. :( But that he would hold and snuggle with me all I wanted. :)  I took some medicine and was soon out for the night.

      And then I woke up to breakfast in bed this morning! It was fantastic! I had bacon and cheese omelet,  bacon, ham, and a crumpet with cinnamon butter. I then proceeded to spend the rest of the day awake for a little bit coughing until I would fall asleep only to wake up in time to take some more medicine and do it all again. 

      Really I'm not even sure what I'm writing right now. It just feels like I'm randomly hitting keys and I'm lucky that it is actually forming words.  I am going to try to make posting a regular habit. My goal is to post once a week, now lets’ see if I can make that goal. 

      Oh, and by the way, my birthday is not until Tuesday.

Its Only Skin Deep

     I have wanted a tattoo ever since I was little. I always thought that there was 
something so intriguing about them. Or at least about the ones I liked. Though they might have a significant meaning to the individual who has it, some tattoos come across as just another tattoo.
     Growing up I was taught that you don’t get a tattoo. That it’s wrong. At one point a few years ago when I was out to lunch with my mom, the topic of tattoos briefly came up. My mom stated that "If you ever get a tattoo, I will disown you." I thought that was a very strong stand against tattoos. She is my mother, I love her very much, that is her belief on the topic, and it doesn’t sway me one way or the other. I am going to get a tattoo, but only one.
     I was told once that every time a certain famous singer (I don’t remember who) wants to get a tattoo he pics the design and then waits a year to make sure he really does want another one or that he really does want that design. I thought that was very good advice especially since this is a very permanent accessory to attach to you. So I figured my first step should be to figure out what I want. I have drawn my own a few times and I have liked them but there was something missing.
     Also figuring out where on my body I wanted it seemed like an important thing to know also. My own personal preference is that it should be as discreet as possible for maintaining a position in the business world, i.e. easily covered by most clothing. Though the foot or ankle is fine; and the wrist area works as long as it is not obnoxious. It’s also a private thing for me so the location is important. Now these are my own preferences and thoughts, what others do or like are fine for them.
     Very rarely do I wake up remembering any dreams I might have had, to the point that I feel like I don’t dream at night. So a few months ago when I woke up and could remember bits and pieces from a dream that night I was excited especially since it was of me and my tattoo. I dreamt the location and what it was! But when I went to try and figure out exactly what it was all I got were impressions and ideas. And that started me on my hunt to figure out my tattoo. I knew a few of the elements that were in it but I couldn’t exactly put my finger on it, until last night that is!
     I have spent weeks looking through pics online of tattoos or drawings that had pieces in it that I liked. I have saved so many pics to my computer and probably accidentally texting a few to the poor guy from my previous post. Slowly I found the right pic for each part of my tattoo. I am so excited! Now my next step is to have a friend draw the tattoo and then find an artist, someplace in town, who can replicate the drawing onto me.
     Finding the artist is probably the most nerve wracking part for me. They are the one that will make this permanent and I don’t want it messed up since I will have to live with this forever. I’m also a little nervous about the actual tattooing process because, I might think I have a decent pain tolerance, I’m pretty sure this is going to hurt. After that comes saving for it. Since it is not a priority in my list of bills it will be a few more moths. But I think it will be well worth the wait.

So, does anyone have tips for me getting my first and only tattoo? Or, recommendations of artists to check out in the Des Moines area?

To Laugh at Myself

So, last night I'm looking up craft ideas on my phone. For some reason I'm not able to save pics on my phone, but I am able to text them to myself. Well on March 13th i changed my phone number and for a few days i was having a hard time remembering it, but its a fairly easy number so i memorized it no problem.
Now i do almost everything on my phone, talking, texting  surfing, games, you name it. I'm also very into crafts and i enjoy digging through the depths of the web to find great ideas. Well back to my previous statement that i cant save pics, so instead i text them to myself. Well tonight my phone rings, which doesn't happen very often, so of course i answer it. On the other end is a very nice sounding man who informs me that, though he is sure i am sending them by mistake, for the past few days i have been sending him random pics. I gasp, shocked and embarrassed  He very graciously tells me not to apologize but that he wanted me to be aware of this. I quickly explain that i just changed my number recently and had thought i was texting myself, slipping in another quick apology. We both laugh and wish each other a good night.
      Laughing at myself, I make a quick post on Facebook about my entertaining error. And that got me thinking about the ability to laugh at oneself. Some people say it builds confidence to be able to laugh at yourself. That it makes life more enjoyable to not be so serious. That if you can laugh at your own mistakes its easier to not be so hard on others, or that it makes bad situations hurt less.
    For me, I cant always laugh at myself. It depends on my perception of the severity of the error, or my level of embarrassment. I try to look on the bright side of situations, to not be so hard on myself or others, to find humor in life. But I'm human and have my up days and my down days just like everyone. I might not always be able to see the funny side because sometimes there isn't a funny side. Sometimes a situation calls for seriousness. You have to face the scope of an error, be honest with yourself and others.
     But when seriousness isn't needed, laugh! Its a fun thing to do and you will be glad you did.  Smile, don't be afraid to make mistakes, be lenient on yourself and others. Enjoy all the moments of this life.

A Brand New Day!

As the title says today is a brand new day!

I have tried blogging before but with no real purpose in mind. Today I start again with the only purpose being for myself. I have no grand ideas of people reading or even following me. I only write for myself. To share my ups and downs, my past and my present and my hopes for the future.

So for this brand new day I say, dont wait for tomorow!