While reading through my facebook posts, I got an idea for my next blog. So, thank you to the friend who posted another blog on the subject of girls own special brew of bullying.
We hear more and more about this topic in the news. In the news, for crying out loud? That never happened when we were kids. Welcome to the new form of bullying.
Kids are committing suicide who are victims of bullying. They are taking guns to school to "take care of the bullies". We switched schools because one of our kids was being bullied. Nearly every day our child came home and had been physically or verbally abused by the kids in her class. The teacher and principal tried and sometimes things got better for awhile. But you have to be consistent to keep the bullying at bay.
Both of my sisters are teachers and I asked them about it. One of them said when parents come to her and ask if they should talk to the parents of the bully, she discourages them. She tell them it's her job to take care of it. Parents talking to parents usually ends in one of two messages. "I know and I don't know what to do about it" or the ever popular "Not my kid!"
I asked a friend who is also a teacher about a conclusion I had come to. Everyone bullies and everyone gets bullied. She agreed. We also both agreed some kids get bullied worse than others due to size, height, clothing, etc. The list can be endless. And some kids do it as a form of fighting back.
I've heard authors who have written books about girls bullying. One author said, "Men need women for intimacy. Women need women for companionship. Sometimes almost a second mother relationship can develop. A new woman comes in between two good friends and look out". Let's face the fact, girls are nasty. And unfortunately, it doesn't go away when we turn eighteen. Women are excruciatingly mean to one another. Whether we gossip or exclude, we bully with finesse. We have had years of practice to hone our skills.
I once watched an Oprah episode where a young woman came on the show and apologized to the other woman she had picked on in grade school. She cried through the whole interview. She admitted that she bullied because her parents were going through a terrible divorce and she had become the invisible child. She preyed on other kids to make them hurt as much as she did. She also admitted she got a rush at having power over these kids. Wow.
There are so many hurting people in the world. It is doubly sad to me when the hurting one is a child. I wanted to hug this poor woman. It isn't easy to want to hug a bully, especially when they are picking on your child, but they need it. I've talked to several counselors about this subject. They agreed a child who bullies is hurting and feeling powerless.
We are all God's daughters. That makes us so special. As adults, we have a responsibility to include the stranger in our mist. Whether it is a committee or Bible study. We set the example.
We also have to keep our eyes open. Know of a hurting child? Invite them over and do something special with them. Or do an one-on-one activity they might enjoy. Invite them to church. Or a church activity. No excuses, you organize your grocery list. You can do this.
Is it easy to have the child who has bullied your child in your home? I've done it. The experience proved extremely interesting. Pray for the bully. Is this easy? What do you think? You're so angry that this kid left bruises on your baby you could spit, yet you know this kid is hurting. Besides the fact you are a Christian. And sometimes, let's face it, you don't care.
What about God? These girls are your sisters in Christ. They are crying out. So are you. You may be afraid to send your child to school. The only One who can put your mind at ease, take your anger away and give you peace is reaching out to you. You can cry on His shoulder. You can rant your anger away. He already knows what you are going through. He's God. You are His daughter. And so are they.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
God's Circus
I relish the time when my grade schooler comes home. We snuggle and watch my child's favorite program. We have a snack and we talk about the day. Then we do any homework that is due. It is a special time to say hello again after a long school day.
And then...
My middle school and high school kids arrive.
True, they are older and the hormones are raging. But usually they come home in good moods. I'm just as happy to see them. I know what's coming, though. The twisting in my stomach as they outline the homework, projects, quizzes and test that are barreling down on us.
This year is busier than past years. We are swimming two days a week. In other words, we joined the swim team. It's a great program and you pick what meets to compete in. Here's the thing-you have to practice. It's an almost half an hour commute. One way. And that's to the closest pool.
I signed my kids up hoping this might be the magical sport. Let's face it, sports are big nowadays. So, I hoped this one would be theirs. I forgot one important thing. Mid-week we have confirmation classes. Yeah, I know. Who's this Christian mom whose blog you're reading? Throw in some time with a tutor, and that's four nights a week of activities. Yikes.
Oh, I know. Many of you are wondering where I got my mom stripes? You go seven nights a week. Plus some. I'm a wimp compared to you. But as we run and I shift into super-mom speed, (I do not wear tights. They've itched me to death since I was young. And capes are dangerous. My reasoning? Just watch The Incredibles.) I begin to forget my name.
Throw in my husband not answering his cell phone as we juggle our kitchen redo, and the other night, I seriously thought I was having a nervous breakdown. On this particular night I'd found out my middles schooler had had no study hall and was hit with tons of homework plus a test. Swimming wouldn't work for her. A meet was scheduled for us for Saturday. Who needs to practice for that, right?
I went to swimming grumbling. I might have prayed, I honestly don't remember. I explained my child's absence to our coach. She looked up what events my kids were in. Guess what? My kiddoes weren't registered for the meet. I promise I am not making this up.
I sat down next to a good, good friend and poured out my heart. I don't like to complain, even to my friends, but doggone it, I am good at it. She listened wholeheartedly. Then she told me how her evenings go. Wait for it...they sounded vaguely familiar!
What was that about? I'm not the only one who suffers, and I mean suffers, like this? I'm not alone? I thought God had renamed me "Job". He hasn't?
Can I tell you the load this awesome friend lifted off me? I was reminded of what I'd promised myself. School comes first. Any swim practices we make are great exercise. The looming meet that wasn't was really going to be a long trip. Instead, we had a great relaxing weekend and got a lot of stuff done. Thank you,
Jesus!
Here's what God reminded me of. I am not alone. The enemy may like to trick all of us into believing that. Listen up, it's a lie. Almost every mom has gone through something similiar, if not gone through exactly what I/you have. We just have to reach out to each other.
That's why Jesus gave us friends. He had twelve awesome friends. True, there's that whole Judas thing. We forget it had been foretold for ages and somebody had to be the fall guy. Jesus chose to die for us so we could live. So Judas played his role.
The remaining eleven scattered. Peter denied Jesus three times. They had to go through all the crummy stuff to come out on the better end. Look at what awesome evangelists they turned into! Don't think when they weren't freaked out and leaning on each other before Jesus appeared to them. And I thought my day was a bad one!
What did I learn? The next time the big top gets pitched in my family room, I'm gonna pray, work really hard to turn it all over to God, and jump in the clown car with all my friends!
We look so darn cute in our makeup and fabulous clown shoes!!!
And then...
My middle school and high school kids arrive.
True, they are older and the hormones are raging. But usually they come home in good moods. I'm just as happy to see them. I know what's coming, though. The twisting in my stomach as they outline the homework, projects, quizzes and test that are barreling down on us.
This year is busier than past years. We are swimming two days a week. In other words, we joined the swim team. It's a great program and you pick what meets to compete in. Here's the thing-you have to practice. It's an almost half an hour commute. One way. And that's to the closest pool.
I signed my kids up hoping this might be the magical sport. Let's face it, sports are big nowadays. So, I hoped this one would be theirs. I forgot one important thing. Mid-week we have confirmation classes. Yeah, I know. Who's this Christian mom whose blog you're reading? Throw in some time with a tutor, and that's four nights a week of activities. Yikes.
Oh, I know. Many of you are wondering where I got my mom stripes? You go seven nights a week. Plus some. I'm a wimp compared to you. But as we run and I shift into super-mom speed, (I do not wear tights. They've itched me to death since I was young. And capes are dangerous. My reasoning? Just watch The Incredibles.) I begin to forget my name.
Throw in my husband not answering his cell phone as we juggle our kitchen redo, and the other night, I seriously thought I was having a nervous breakdown. On this particular night I'd found out my middles schooler had had no study hall and was hit with tons of homework plus a test. Swimming wouldn't work for her. A meet was scheduled for us for Saturday. Who needs to practice for that, right?
I went to swimming grumbling. I might have prayed, I honestly don't remember. I explained my child's absence to our coach. She looked up what events my kids were in. Guess what? My kiddoes weren't registered for the meet. I promise I am not making this up.
I sat down next to a good, good friend and poured out my heart. I don't like to complain, even to my friends, but doggone it, I am good at it. She listened wholeheartedly. Then she told me how her evenings go. Wait for it...they sounded vaguely familiar!
What was that about? I'm not the only one who suffers, and I mean suffers, like this? I'm not alone? I thought God had renamed me "Job". He hasn't?
Can I tell you the load this awesome friend lifted off me? I was reminded of what I'd promised myself. School comes first. Any swim practices we make are great exercise. The looming meet that wasn't was really going to be a long trip. Instead, we had a great relaxing weekend and got a lot of stuff done. Thank you,
Jesus!
Here's what God reminded me of. I am not alone. The enemy may like to trick all of us into believing that. Listen up, it's a lie. Almost every mom has gone through something similiar, if not gone through exactly what I/you have. We just have to reach out to each other.
That's why Jesus gave us friends. He had twelve awesome friends. True, there's that whole Judas thing. We forget it had been foretold for ages and somebody had to be the fall guy. Jesus chose to die for us so we could live. So Judas played his role.
The remaining eleven scattered. Peter denied Jesus three times. They had to go through all the crummy stuff to come out on the better end. Look at what awesome evangelists they turned into! Don't think when they weren't freaked out and leaning on each other before Jesus appeared to them. And I thought my day was a bad one!
What did I learn? The next time the big top gets pitched in my family room, I'm gonna pray, work really hard to turn it all over to God, and jump in the clown car with all my friends!
We look so darn cute in our makeup and fabulous clown shoes!!!
Monday, January 2, 2012
God's Water
Some of you are aware of the flood/swamp in our basement and kitchen. For those of you who haven't heard, let's just say it has been an interesting Christmas season.
My husband discovered water in our basement. We guessed it was caused by a leaky window or crack in the wall. Upon investigation, the service agency found our dishwasher was leaking. A crack in a seal had caused not only a swamp under our cabinets, but a flood in the basement. "Floodier and floodier" came to mind as we hit the waves with ginormous fans for a week to dry everything. I have to admit I did sit down and cry when my cabinets had to be ripped out.
Things worsened every day and I was not in the Christmas spirit. Mr. Phlegmatic, aka my husband, became Grumpy the dwarf. The kids were hit with test after test and projects galore. Our oldest child took the ACT for the first time. Just when I thought the acid level couldn't rise any higher in my stomach, we learned the insurance didn't cover damage caused by household appliances.
To say we were all in poopy moods doesn't really cover it. Then, I remembered something my dad once told me.
"Look around. There's always someone worse off than you."
He was right. Did you hear that, Dad? Sit down before you fall down. I really did just admit that.
A few days before the Great Flood hit, my brother-in-law's shed with all his snow removal and lawn care equipment burned. No one was hurt, but his equipment has depreciated according to his insurance.
One of the men from the company helping us out told my husband his next stop was to a home with raw sewage in their basement.
I could go on. I won't. I remembered what was really important. We have our health. We have each other. My husband has a job. We have our home, albeit soggy.
And the Christmas spirit rained down.
Then came our silver lining. A mistake had been made concerning the removal of our cabinets. The insurance company would cover the cost to redo the kitchen.
God's water came. We boarded our ark. And when we emerged, we had our rainbow.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
God's Breath
I cannot believe it has been over a month since I typed a blog. Wow! I had a great Christmas theme, too! I liked it so much, I'm doing it even though Christmas is over. Hope you enjoy!
"Do you wonder, as you watch my face
If a wiser one, should have had my place?"
These are the words to one of my favorite Christmas songs. The title is "Breath of Heaven" and if you are blessed enough to have heard it this Christmas season, it is done by Amy Grant. It is a song sung from Mary's point of view. This song makes me think and always brings a lump to my throat.
This year the song has especially hit home for me. I'm waiting on several answers from God. And I do wonder, when He sees my face, does He find what He's looking for? Have I listened to His plans for me or have I gone my own way? A person would be wise indeed to listen close to God. But have I?
I think we all wonder at times, "Am I doing what God intends? Am I letting Him down? Did I miss His message?" This can cause all manner of stress induced anxiety attacks. Don't let it. Here's the next line of this thoughtful song:
"But I offer all I am, for the mercy of your plan.
Help me be strong..."
Maybe praying for strength is where we fall short. And, are we offering all we are to Him? All we are? All we are is an awful lot of good, bad, and ugly. Could it be here is where we stumble? Like God doesn't know our bad and ugly? Please!
Offer all you are to God. Believe in Him. He believes in you to do the job He's sent you to do. He knows your credentials. Now answer His want ads!
"Do you wonder, as you watch my face
If a wiser one, should have had my place?"
These are the words to one of my favorite Christmas songs. The title is "Breath of Heaven" and if you are blessed enough to have heard it this Christmas season, it is done by Amy Grant. It is a song sung from Mary's point of view. This song makes me think and always brings a lump to my throat.
This year the song has especially hit home for me. I'm waiting on several answers from God. And I do wonder, when He sees my face, does He find what He's looking for? Have I listened to His plans for me or have I gone my own way? A person would be wise indeed to listen close to God. But have I?
I think we all wonder at times, "Am I doing what God intends? Am I letting Him down? Did I miss His message?" This can cause all manner of stress induced anxiety attacks. Don't let it. Here's the next line of this thoughtful song:
"But I offer all I am, for the mercy of your plan.
Help me be strong..."
Maybe praying for strength is where we fall short. And, are we offering all we are to Him? All we are? All we are is an awful lot of good, bad, and ugly. Could it be here is where we stumble? Like God doesn't know our bad and ugly? Please!
Offer all you are to God. Believe in Him. He believes in you to do the job He's sent you to do. He knows your credentials. Now answer His want ads!
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
God's Thanksgiving
Well, here it is Thanksgiving Eve! The turkey is done and thanks to my oldest who so graciously volunteered, the pumpkin pie is too. My wonderful husband made homemade rolls. (Yeah, I really love my mom-in-law.) And I have the pecan pie thawing. Yes, thawing. I'm not Wonder Woman.
Tomorrow we will watch the parades just the five of us. I like making Thanksgiving dinner for my immediates. We'll eat and laugh. And then, God help us, we'll watch football. And, I will survive.
Tonight we went to church. Our pastor talked about having an "attitude of gratitude". The point that really hit home for me was when he spoke of people who were afflicted but were grateful all the same. And the folks who had very little but gave generously. Like the widow in the Bible who had nothing but gave her last coin to the church. Jesus told the disciples, "Did you see what she did? She gave more than anyone else because she gave out of her poverty, giving all that she had to live on." I'm paraphasing here but that's the gist of it.
What if we focused on giving thanks instead of how good the turkey tasted? What if we gave back out of our gratitude to God instead of worrying to removing the plastic bag that houses the nasty turkey innards?
We have a lot to give thanks for! I know two families who lost their loved ones this week. They're still sitting down to dinner and giving thanks. The Bible tells us to give thanks in everything. What if we did that? Or, at least tried?
That's a lot of "what ifs" I know, but what if Jesus hadn't loved us? What if God hadn't sent His Son to take on our sins? We'd have absolutely nothing to be thankful for.
So, give thanks tomorrow and every day after no matter what happens or how hard it is. Seem impossible? Ask for a little help from above by the Guy who told us all things are possible with Him!
Tomorrow we will watch the parades just the five of us. I like making Thanksgiving dinner for my immediates. We'll eat and laugh. And then, God help us, we'll watch football. And, I will survive.
Tonight we went to church. Our pastor talked about having an "attitude of gratitude". The point that really hit home for me was when he spoke of people who were afflicted but were grateful all the same. And the folks who had very little but gave generously. Like the widow in the Bible who had nothing but gave her last coin to the church. Jesus told the disciples, "Did you see what she did? She gave more than anyone else because she gave out of her poverty, giving all that she had to live on." I'm paraphasing here but that's the gist of it.
What if we focused on giving thanks instead of how good the turkey tasted? What if we gave back out of our gratitude to God instead of worrying to removing the plastic bag that houses the nasty turkey innards?
We have a lot to give thanks for! I know two families who lost their loved ones this week. They're still sitting down to dinner and giving thanks. The Bible tells us to give thanks in everything. What if we did that? Or, at least tried?
That's a lot of "what ifs" I know, but what if Jesus hadn't loved us? What if God hadn't sent His Son to take on our sins? We'd have absolutely nothing to be thankful for.
So, give thanks tomorrow and every day after no matter what happens or how hard it is. Seem impossible? Ask for a little help from above by the Guy who told us all things are possible with Him!
Saturday, November 12, 2011
God's Choice
This one is for all the single people out there. It was inspired by one of my favorite people who also happens to be related to me. For all of you married folks out there, take a few and remember what it was like to be single. This is how I remember it.
All of my friends had boyfriends. I was the lone wolf. Always included, I still felt out of place. This was how it was for me during junior high, high school, and most of college. I only really started dating a year before I met my husband.
When I met my husband, I didn't like him. Used to being treated crappy by somewhat wild boys, my mission at the time was to save a dwindling relationship. Enter my husband.
He was graduating from a Big Ten school. He had decided to get his Master's degree. Icing on the cake? He was a pastor's son. Yeah, my parents were in Heaven. That was the kiss of death for my hubby.
The other relationship fell through. Wow-guess I couldn't save it after all. My husband was still calling me and I didn't have any other prospects, so I kept him around. He started to grow on me. I finally realized God had given me the catch of a lifetime.
I married my husband over twenty years ago. Has it been a fairy tale? Please! Give me a break. Most of the reason was because I knew I didn't deserve someone who loved me unconditionally. God or my husband.
Then, it occurred to me that even the most horrible person in the world deserved someone wonderful. Because if the horrible person got a wonderful person, wouldn't Miss Horrible have some of Mr. Wonderful rub off on her? Which would make her less horrible? I'm not saying I was Miss Horrible. At times, however, I did give her a run for her money.
I used to joke that my "Mr. Right" had fallen off his horse. He'd probably hit his head when he did so and was stumbling around the woods lost, his quest for me forgotten.
Now I have concluded that my choices were all wrong. God's choice for me was all right. I had to trust in Him to show me the way into the woods. I had to hold His hand while he steered my husband to me. I had to accept wildflowers as though they were roses, learning no one, not even myself, was perfect. I had to be patient and kind. I had to remember it wasn't always about me. And I had to listen to God.
These were not lessons that were easy to learn. But, they were invaluable. Trust God to lead you to His choice. Whether he or she has fallen off a horse or a Harley, they'll be worth the wait.
All of my friends had boyfriends. I was the lone wolf. Always included, I still felt out of place. This was how it was for me during junior high, high school, and most of college. I only really started dating a year before I met my husband.
When I met my husband, I didn't like him. Used to being treated crappy by somewhat wild boys, my mission at the time was to save a dwindling relationship. Enter my husband.
He was graduating from a Big Ten school. He had decided to get his Master's degree. Icing on the cake? He was a pastor's son. Yeah, my parents were in Heaven. That was the kiss of death for my hubby.
The other relationship fell through. Wow-guess I couldn't save it after all. My husband was still calling me and I didn't have any other prospects, so I kept him around. He started to grow on me. I finally realized God had given me the catch of a lifetime.
I married my husband over twenty years ago. Has it been a fairy tale? Please! Give me a break. Most of the reason was because I knew I didn't deserve someone who loved me unconditionally. God or my husband.
Then, it occurred to me that even the most horrible person in the world deserved someone wonderful. Because if the horrible person got a wonderful person, wouldn't Miss Horrible have some of Mr. Wonderful rub off on her? Which would make her less horrible? I'm not saying I was Miss Horrible. At times, however, I did give her a run for her money.
I used to joke that my "Mr. Right" had fallen off his horse. He'd probably hit his head when he did so and was stumbling around the woods lost, his quest for me forgotten.
Now I have concluded that my choices were all wrong. God's choice for me was all right. I had to trust in Him to show me the way into the woods. I had to hold His hand while he steered my husband to me. I had to accept wildflowers as though they were roses, learning no one, not even myself, was perfect. I had to be patient and kind. I had to remember it wasn't always about me. And I had to listen to God.
These were not lessons that were easy to learn. But, they were invaluable. Trust God to lead you to His choice. Whether he or she has fallen off a horse or a Harley, they'll be worth the wait.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
God's Blog
Have you ever wondered what God's blog might say? We basically have a "how to" book in the Bible, but what about a blog?
I think His blog would be different for every one of His children. It wouldn't be a log on type of deal like we have now for everyone to read. No group thing. It would be personable. To the point. Individually loving and kind.
Isn't this really what we get from Him when we pray? Sometimes we find our answers in the "how to" book. Sometimes, He tells us plain as day, "Here's the plan." We question this, forgetting it is His plan for us, not the other way around.
We can also forget He knows best. For those of us who remember the old fifities sitcom, "Father Knows Best", no truer words were ever spoken about our Heavenly Father.
I have at times not been told but shown the answer to my prayers. I'm very much aware that He is answering my prayers in a different manner when this occurs. And, sometimes I question the answer too much. Pick it apart, over think it, what have you. I'll even ask, "Is this really what you're telling me?"
Who has slipped into the Gideon complex? Tell me, show me and show me again. Yeah, I've done that too.
And please, don't get me started on timing. The "how to" manual tells us a thousand years is one day and one day is a thousand years to God. That doesn't really work for me. I'm a clock watcher. Date planner. Next year's calenders come out and I'm there.
I guess what we have to remember is God's personal blog to us is to be taken seriously. He's not kidding around. Not about His answers or His timing. There's a reason He shows and tells us His agenda for our lives. It's called love.
I think His blog would be different for every one of His children. It wouldn't be a log on type of deal like we have now for everyone to read. No group thing. It would be personable. To the point. Individually loving and kind.
Isn't this really what we get from Him when we pray? Sometimes we find our answers in the "how to" book. Sometimes, He tells us plain as day, "Here's the plan." We question this, forgetting it is His plan for us, not the other way around.
We can also forget He knows best. For those of us who remember the old fifities sitcom, "Father Knows Best", no truer words were ever spoken about our Heavenly Father.
I have at times not been told but shown the answer to my prayers. I'm very much aware that He is answering my prayers in a different manner when this occurs. And, sometimes I question the answer too much. Pick it apart, over think it, what have you. I'll even ask, "Is this really what you're telling me?"
Who has slipped into the Gideon complex? Tell me, show me and show me again. Yeah, I've done that too.
And please, don't get me started on timing. The "how to" manual tells us a thousand years is one day and one day is a thousand years to God. That doesn't really work for me. I'm a clock watcher. Date planner. Next year's calenders come out and I'm there.
I guess what we have to remember is God's personal blog to us is to be taken seriously. He's not kidding around. Not about His answers or His timing. There's a reason He shows and tells us His agenda for our lives. It's called love.
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