Are you havin’ any fun?

By Sammy Fain/Jack Yellin
Are you havin’ any fun?                                                                                        

What y’gettin’ out o’ livin’?

What good is what you’ve got

If you’re not havin’ any fun?

 

***

I’ve been having loads of fun with art collage and art journaling.

I spend so much time in my head and with words that this

is a great way to free some other stuff floating around in my head.                                                                     

Google these terms and see if they don’t capture your fancy.

 

Are you having any fun?

Hit the Refresh Button by Christine Field

Listen up here: Hit the Refresh Button with Christine Field
Listen now or save as mp3 file to listen later.

Your outer life may be in chaos, but how is your inner life?

As moms, we plan and prepare many aspects of our outer lives -including the lesson plans, the menu plans, the shopping lists – but what amount of time do we spend on our inner lives, on our hearts and minds?

We need to preserve the peace of that inner life, lest we fall into patterns of thinking:

Like a groove – like a stuck needle on an old record album.
Like a frozen computer – if it has too many things running and becomes overwhelmed, it has the sense to freeze and shut down.
Like an old cassette tape – it can become unraveled and become nearly impossible to put back together.

Will you live according to the sinful nature of thought processes out of control, or according to the Spirit? (Read Romans 8:4)

I can think myself into a funk at the drop of a hat. Only the refreshment of the Word of God can get me out of it.

Romans 12:2 advises, “No not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

Conforming is funky thinking. Transforming is a work the Spirit can and will do in your life.

Mom Pain by Christine Field

An Introduction            

Incredible joy.

Unspeakable pain.

This has been my parenting journey.  I have traveled from the heartbreak of infertility to the miracle of answered prayers – from the birth of new life to the death of dreams.

My only regret:  I wish I had been a little more prepared.

Instead, as I prepared for motherhood, I feasted on the TV ads showing the lovely young mom rocking her baby.  She was dressed in a flowing white gown, gazing at her beautiful babe.  The flimsy white curtains billowed softly in the light breeze.

That was how I thought it was supposed to be.  Instead, motherhood descended on me with a sudden fury.  Adopting our first child on short notice, we plunged unprepared into parenting.  A colicky biological child followed 17 months later, leaving me panting in the dust with postpartum depression.  After a few years recovery, we adopted two more kids through international adoption, who each presented substantial learning disabilities at school age.

Each child presented challenges and blessings.

After launching two from homeschool high school, we heaved a sigh that our job was half over.  If we made it this far, we would surely finish the race with confidence.

My story starts on a pretty regular day.  During this particular season of life, my pattern for managing my gut wrenching grief was to go to my bedroom and get down on my knees by my bed. The younger two kids were still at school and my husband was at work so I could make a little noise.

And so I would cry.  And wail.  It was the only way to get some release from the sadness stored up inside me – the sadness that would destroy me if I did not deal with it.  Deep cries would come from some desolate place inside me, great sobs filled with pain.  Emotions that I had to process or my heart would surely explode.

On one of these days, something different happened.  As I lifted my hands up, crying out to the Lord, He gave me His peace.  It wasn’t merely a feeling or an imagination.  It was a release that came upon me with such force and such surety that I knew it was the Lord.

My prior pattern had been as follows:

I would pray, “Lord heal and sustain my husband in his cancer.”

I would pray, “Lord, bring my troubled daughter home and, if it be Your will, release her from her sudden, ill-advised marriage to a man she barely knew, and bring her home from the move so far away to live in poverty and confusion.”

I would pray, “Lord, heal my other daughter who is nearly consumed by her own adolescent issues. And by the way, how in the world will we pay for these hospitalizations?”

I would pray, “Lord, help me with my youngest two and their learning disabilities.  Help me to be patient and loving with them.”

I would pray, “Lord, if it be your will, heal me from the substantial health problems of my own that you have allowed in my life.”

In my prior pattern, I would lift these prayers to the Lord.  When I had no sooner gotten up from the floor, I took the cares back on my own shoulders.  Rather than emerge in victory from my prayer time, I would arise in defeat and shuffle away with a resignation that I would carry these burdens for many more years.

But this day was different.  This day the Lord met me in my pain and began to carry it for me.  On this day, His presence and His love felt palpable.  No, I didn’t hear His voice, or feel the touch His hand on my shoulder.  But from that day forward, I experienced a peace I have never known before.

I still have concerns and the occasional fret fest, but I know that the Lord is in charge and that he orchestrates all things for His good.  The certainty and grounded-ness of His peace is mine.

Being a woman, a wife and a mother are opportunities for great joy.  We revel in the emotionality and gift giving of Mother’s Day, the birth of a child, or our wedding anniversary.

But what do we do when those callings of wife and mother are discouraging?  Where do we turn with our feelings of deep discouragement when we look at our lives and say, “I didn’t think it would be like this”?

We could evolve into bitter empty nesters.  Or we can process our pain, use our experiences to draw closer to the Lord, become stronger, and bless others.

Are somewhere in Mom Pain?  Are you feeling robbed or cheated of the promise of joy of motherhood?

Take heart.  You are experiencing the grit and irritation of the oyster shell, polishing and refining you as a woman and a wife, a mom and a human.

What will emerge might astonish you.

This is the introduction to a new book I have in mind.  If you have ideas, feedback or stories to share, please contact me.


Feeling Like a Failure? by Christine Field

Homeschooling and feelings of doubt are close companions.  We wonder if  we are doing it “right.”  Are we doing “enough?”  Are we doing as well as so-and-so?
Sometimes this doubt ripens into feeling like a full-fledged failure.  Maybe the children aren’t learning “fast” enough.  Maybe one of them has exhibited a striking character defect which you have been trying to minimize.  Most homeschoolers, at some point, feel that they have blown it.  One day in particular stands out in my mind.
We were going through a tough time with our third child.  This was prior to her diagnosis with ADD and learning disability.  Like any good, Bible believing homeschooler, we were attributing her difficulties to lack of character training.  After one particularly painful episode, I held her, rocked her and prayed, “Please Jesus, help this child to learn to be cheerfully obedient.”  She listened and thought for a moment, then prayed her own prayer: “Dear Jesus, please help Mommy to not be so mean.”
Out of the mouths of babes came the conviction that by my harshness and lack of loving grace that I had failed this child.  Eventually, I repented and asked her to forgive me.  Our relationship is now on firmer footing and, not surprisingly, her behavior has improved dramatically.
I felt like a failure with that child.  I felt I had failed her and had failed the God who entrusted her upbringing to me.  Through some deep time of prayer and crying out to God, we weathered the storm and have been restored to a healthy relationship.
First, I had to accept responsibility for the situation.  Yes, there were mistakes made and, yes, I made them in abundance.  But I knew I served a gracious God who was eager to forgive me.  I sought His forgiveness, and the forgiveness of others, and each were granted freely.
Next, I realized that this feeling of failure was the beginning of the turnaround in my situation.  It forced me to look to God and to seek alternative ways of feeling, responding and parenting.  This re-evaluation led to real, lasting change.
I looked first to God for wisdom in this situation – God who gives wisdom generously if we but ask  (James 1:5).  His admonition to not hinder or exasperate children led to a softening of my heart and a restoration of feelings of compassion to replace the familiar irritation.
Finally, I focused on the future for this child, rather than dwelling on her difficult, painful past.  I prayed with her and for her and she would see God’s plans to give her a future and a hope.
God turned around my feeling like a failure and granted me the desire of my heart – to live in love and peace with those I have been entrusted to raise.  Don’t be afraid if you feel you have failed.  God can use it in miraculous ways, if we will trust Him to show us His way to restoration.

For This Child Have I Prayed by Christine Field

For this child have I prayed

She came to us bathed in prayer, wrapped in love – an unexpected, much loved, gift

Smiles so bright – can rival the sun

A voice so sweet like a river runs

Brought so much joy, happiness and light

Never imagining the coming fight

For this child have I prayed

Adolescence descended like dark cover

In the fray we barely knew each other

Tears and shouting, fights and screaming

Made me wonder about Motherhood’s meaning

For this child have I prayed

A tearing time, a rendering apart

Now many miles away, where to start?

I promised I would make fly-overs

My helicopter’s searchlight panning past

For this child have I prayed

Then a sight through a clouds

A hand reaching out to touch mine

We connect, if only for a moment

Then flee the fear of familiarity

For this child have I prayed

Then you were here, sad and spent

Wondering where your life had went

We rejoiced to have you back in the fold

And laughed over pranks in days of old

For this child have I prayed

Talking mother to new-mother

Mother to friend

The conversation I prayed to have

Which seemed all so unlikely

God answers prayer – his presence hovers above

Passing over our lives, waiting for us to call to him

To cry out to him in grief and pain and

Sometimes he mends us back again

For this child have I prayed

Breathing a prayer of, “Thank you, Jesus.”

Yo-Yo Momma

 

Ever feel like a yo-yo momma?

Yo Yo Momma on You Tube

I can relate.