The Empty Room

We live in a house that is over 100 years old. It has much character of it's own and I'm sure that it has countless stories of the people who have lived here since it has been built. But my family has owned this house for a little over 14 years now. When we moved in my husband and I had eight children. Two of our children didn't live here but always had a place in our hearts just the same. The other six children were very young when we first unlocked the door of our new home. The youngest was only six months old and the oldest was eight. The carpet was an ugly green shag and the deck had nails popping out but it was our house and we loved it. Many things have changed in these last fourteen years (probably the first of which being that ugly green carpet!), but the most recent change really has my heart sad.

When I became a mom I gave up everything in my life so I could raise my babies. I was so happy to do this. My kids were my world and I wanted them with me every second. Sure they drove me insane like kids do, but  I could not get enough of them. I adored them to the point of just thinking of them making my heart burn with love and I still do. But throughout the years nature became my enemy. As the saying goes, I blinked and my children grew up. All but one of my precious "babies" are now adults. They are wonderful, responsible, loving amazing people and I am so very proud of who they have become. I am crazy excited for what the future holds for them and I absolutely love them more than I could ever express. But I am also sad.

Today I am spending time cleaning out one of the two empty bedrooms. I am going to make it my office and plan on spending a lot of time in there writing. I will make it a nice "escape room" for when I am overwhelmed with life and use it often hopefully. But as I am cleaning this room out, today is also like a goodbye to a life I so dearly loved. As I sweep the floor I remember sweeping under a bed, or being frustrated that clothes and toys were once everywhere. I think of how many times I told my teenagers to get the water bottles or fountain pop cups out of there. I remember every place a bed has been in that room and look around at how empty it is now.

I recall when my son's girlfriend broke up with him and how he stayed in bed crying for what seemed like an eternity while I sat outside the door wishing there was something that I could do to take his pain away. Then I pictured my daughter being upset because her boyfriend was being a jerk. I am saddened when I recall sending my precious little ones to this very room to sit and think of how they had been bad. I recall how this was the "coveted room" at one point because since it was the smallest, it usually meant that if it was their room, they were in it alone and no longer sharing a bedroom with a sibling.

This one tiny space in this world holds so many memories, and most of them were taken for granted. We don't think about these things as we are raising our children. It is only when they are gone that the proverbial "light bulb" comes on in our minds. I am so very proud of my babies and am excited for this chapter in their lives. I still have one child at home and I'm sure I will blink again and her last four years as a child will be over and she will "fly out of the nest as well" and I will be excited for her new adventures just as I am for her siblings now. But a part of me is sad. It is almost like a funeral for me today. As I look around this empty room and consider all the life that has filled this room I can't help but be sad because it is gone. Life from this point on will never be the same. All I have left are memories and visits. I will cherish them and hold them so close to my heart until the day that I die.

I will enjoy my new office, but the memories will always be there. I will always think of my children when I am in that room and just how much I adore them and beg God to help them to know how precious and loved they are. I praise God for allowing me to be mommy to these precious eight souls. I will love them and be happy for them always, but there will always be a part of me wishing they were still little and needing me like they did then.

My "nest" is almost empty, but my heart is so full. Funny how we can be so sad and happy at the same time. Time marches on and we have just marched right into a new phase of life. I wasn't really ready for it, but it's here just the same.

                                                                                              

When the youngest decided her friends names should be on the door. 

                                                                                              

                                                                                               

            The light switch cover they made in VBS one year. 

No Time for Dreams

I am like any other person. I have dreams that I'd love to spend all of my time chasing, and I have a job and responsibilities that keep me from doing such. I get sad and think, "I wish I had more time". I get tired we I get home from work and sit on the couch zoning out on my phone when I could be chasing my dream. Like everyone, we have things to do and responsibilities to take care of that have to come before dreams. There is nothing wrong with that, it's called being an adult. But it can be frustrating. It can be plain ole' depressing! Even in the midst of discouragement, I have to remind myself to just keep moving. That is the point of this post. JUST KEEP GOING!

I do think that we (our American society) have allowed ourselves to become drained with busyness. We keep ourselves so occupied that we don't have time for anything anymore, not ourselves and not for others. This needs to change. We have to find some ways to de-stress and (I think even more of the issue) re-prioritize. It honestly feels like we are in a dream and just spinning wheels to get through life. I'm pretty sure that it was never intended to be this way. We (and I am speaking to myself just as much as anyone else who listens) need to stop treading water and start living life. Get our eyes off the phones and out of social media and get back to just plain social.

Now, understand that I realize that things in our digital age can be good. As I type this blog post, I have tabs open with my email and Facebook and am messaging a friend. That's good. All I am saying is that we (and when I say we I most definitely mean ME) need to prioritize and not let ourselves get completely wrapped up in everything to the point of not living any other part of life.

For the things that keep me from my dreams outside of electronics, I have many excuses. Most are even valid excuses. I'm exhausted from life. I have physical, mental and emotional things that keep me from doing the things that I love. So the question become how bad do I want this? It is time for me to pull out my stubbornness and keep pushing. It may be ten years before anyone notices my writing or it could be today. Maybe it will be this post that finally gets me noticed as an author. Maybe it will be a while longer. I don't know. But I will never know if I don't keep trying.

I let myself get discouraged way too often. I'm sharing this with you because maybe you do too. We can't focus on the bad. We have to just keep going. We make time for what we really want to do. It's time for my dream to be more important than staring at my phone. It's time for me to write even if I have a headache and have no clue what to write about. It's time for me to stop listening to that annoying little voice in my head that tells me that I will never be good enough. Is it time for you to do these things as well? Let's talk! Comment on this blog post and let's start a conversation. Let's start lifting each other up and encouraging one another.

Post-Abortion Trauma; Real or Myth?

I can answer this question very quickly; YES IT'S VERY REAL!

 Am I a scientist who has done years of research and has spent a ton of money gaining a lot of different degrees? Nope. Then how can I be so sure that post-abortion trauma is real? Who am I to stand up and speak about such a thing if I don't have those credentials some might ask. Well let me tell you how I am and maybe it will shock you if I said that I have more of a right to speak this truth.

How do I know that post-abortion Trauma is real? Because I have suffered from it for 21 years.

I woke up one morning at 17 weeks pregnant and decided that I needed to have an abortion. I made a few quick phone calls and BOOM, it was done. My child was dead, I was no longer pregnant and I thought that my "problem" was over. I have never been more wrong in my life.

I was able to stuff down what I had done for a few months. I refused to think about it and I moved on with my life. But then one day it hit me like a building had collapsed on me. I could no longer hide behind "my choice" but was faced with reality. Guilt. Shame. Regret. Sadness. Anxiety. So much more that I could not bear.

Now, I should probably stop and explain that I did not have a good childhood. I suffered many things growing up and I learned very early on how to hide my feelings and push things down. I was very good at it. I didn't even let people see me cry.. EVER!  I say this so you understand, I am no "softie". I do not let things get to me. But this monster known as a past abortion was more than I could handle. When I started putting all of my feelings together I realized that it had seeped into every part of my being and was coming out in ways that I didn't even know.

Praise God, I found healing through an amazing group that helped me work through my guilt and shame. I will focus more on that story in another post, but I want you to know that post-abortion trauma is without a doubt real.

Why do people work so hard to try to say that it is a myth? If it is so real then why is it such a big deal to the other side? That is simple. If people admit that post-abortion trauma is real then they have to start admitting that there might be something wrong with this big money-maker. They have to say that it's imagination because if they admit that it's real then it's more than just a "choice" and more than a blob of tissue.

I have suffered from post-abortion trauma and can tell you that it is hell. I have helped many others overcome by the grace of God and have not only experienced it but seen it in countless others. It is time that we take a stand and let the world know that this is a real thing and help those suffering from it to overcome. Our voice is what will help them step out of their shame. It's time to stand!

When I Believed it was My Body, My Choice

In my younger days, I (like most people) thought that I had it all figured out. I understood the ways of the world and came to my own conclusions on matters. One matter that I thought that I understood was the debate on abortion that said it was my body, therefore my choice. I always stood for women's rights and said that I would never have one myself but was certain that abortion was ok if a woman wished to do so.

I remember my brother and I would pass by a church that always had a bunch of small, white wooden crosses in their front yard and a sign stating that these crosses were for the innocent lives lost to abortion. We would roll our eyes and talk about how mad it made us that these people would try and make people feel bad for a choice that they needed to do. We were certain that this church, along with anyone else who spoke against abortion were just judgmental old people who just needed to "get over themselves".

I was very set in my mind that abortion was ok. I always knew that I couldn't do it myself, but wanted all other women to be able to make that choice for themselves. It only took the events of one day to change my mind.

October 9, 1997. The day that changed my entire life forever.

On this dreadful day, I walked into St. Ann's hospital in Columbus, Ohio pregnant. I walked out hours later  having made the "choice" to do to "my body" whatever I wished. I allowed a doctor to "remove my pregnancy" or in more realistic words, take my child out of my womb where he could no longer have a chance at life. I was seventeen weeks pregnant. My son, Joshua was gone forever.

The events of this day taught me that it was not simply "my body". I learned the hard way that abortion is about so much more than a simple choice. I did not have a child to bring home with me, instead I carried guilt and shame. Before his death, I felt my child move around inside my body, now everything in me felt as dead as he was. Hopeless. Shameful. Surrounded by a cloud of sadness.

It is common knowledge that a person can't fully understand something unless they have gone through it themselves. With that said, please heed my words and let me tell you that abortion is not a simple choice. For those pushing it, it is a money maker. They don't see care for these precious women, they see money signs.

I have done some research on the actual procedure that was done on me. That October day, I did not simply have the doctor perform a procedure on me. He did not take out an appendage or do anything for the benefit of my health. He literally killed my child and removed him from my womb. Think on that for a minute and really let that sink in. I will not describe the exact procedure at this time because there might not be some who can handle it; it is very gruesome. I may at another time with some warnings before reading it. Trust me, I wish I didn't know the horror that my son experienced from the perceived "safety" of my womb.

While I won't describe the actual acts, I think that it is important for everyone to really think about what abortion really is. Don't believe the lies of "it's just a choice" but think on what actually happens. I didn't understand it until I went through it. My son had to die for me to understand. It is time that we stand for the innocent and break through the lies that are being preached.

Abortion is not about my body at all. It is not about my health. It is about death. Abortion should not be an option, as it is not an answer.

Overcoming

What has a hold on you? Fear? Drugs? Alcohol? Regret? Shame? Do you feel like sometimes you can't even breathe because it has such a hold on you? Like this is something that you will just struggle with for the rest of you life no matter what you do? Let me tell you what I have been through in the last few days.

Before I can tell you about what I have done recently, I need to give you a little background. I have had allowed many things to control me in my lifetime. Fear, regret, shame, stubbornness, almost anything that you can think of, I've done it all. But there is one thing that I have always said that I would NEVER do. That is to fly in an airplane.

My fear of flying wasn't just some "Oh yeah, I don't like to fly" type of thing. I would go anywhere near an airport and have panic attacks. I would look up in the sky and see an airplane and my stomach would automatically tense up. I literally felt physically sick just from the thought of an airplane. I would call that unhealthy, wouldn't you agree?

My entire life I have faced danger and a lot of times with a smile. (I may not have felt the smile but by golly I'd make you believe I was ok because I was tough... in my mind). I am terribly afraid of snakes and went to the zoo determined to touch one just to show my fear that it would not control me. I've had a gun to my head. Been threatened with knifes. I should have been dead a long time ago. Praise God He saw fit to keep me alive despite my own stupidity!

Even with the personality to stand up to my fears, I always said that flying was the one thing that I would never do. I love to travel but would drive or take a boat wherever I needed to go and I was just fine with that. My fear of flying had a grip on me that I was completely comfortable with allowing it to continue. I didn't even have a desire to fly.

Then one day I started thinking that maybe I needed to try it anyway. This was just a few months ago. Then my husband, who has a wonderful way of always pushing me to be better in such a loving way said "well, are you ready to fly?" I thought maybe I'd take a short flight just to say that I had done it. He had different plans. He informed me that we would be going across the country and flying. With a layover to and from we would be have FOUR different flights and be in the air a total of 6 hours each way. WHAT?!? I have never been so excited and so terrified at the same time!

As the time of our departure grew closer, I thought I would literally die. When we arrived at the airport and I had to sit and wait to board I did everything I could to hide my fear. A few tears even slipped out! (If you know me, you know that I do NOT cry. Or at least not in public!!) TEARS!!! Just sitting there!!!! I wasn't crying, I was just so terrified that they slipped out.

Then the time came. The airline announced that we would start boarding. We were in the last group so I watched as others boarded the plane and I froze. I didn't know if I was going to throw up, pass out or what but whatever would happen would not be pretty! Then they called our group number. Would I allow fear to continue to control me? I've already told you that I'm not that kind of person. I knew that I had no choice but to step on that plane so I began walking towards the door. I went through the little tunnel thing (Hey, I'm not a frequent flyer, I have no idea what it's called ha ha) and got to the door of the actual plane. I literally froze. My heart felt as if it would fall out of my chest it was beating so hard. I could not step over that threshold! With a line behind me I stood there and faced my fear.

With every bit of my might, I stepped onto that plane! Suddenly, I felt different. Still concerned, but the huge fear was slowly fading. Just after stepping over that threshold. With my husband's help, I find my seat and buckle up. Being the gentleman that he is, he gives me the window seat so I stare out the window and wait. "I can do this!" I think. I'm still scared but am no longer thinking of running out the door screaming. After a while (What seemed like forever!) the plane starts moving. I look around like a child who is in a horror movie, but somewhere from deep inside me I think it will all be ok.

Now I should stop there and explain. My fear was so huge that before we left, I told everyone, my kids especially, to have a good funeral for me when I died. I was facing my fear but a part of me actually thought I would die (go ahead, take a minute and laugh, its ok, I do now!). At some point, my fear all faded; just that quick. By the time we got to our layover city and onto the next plane, I had no concerns and just enjoyed the flight.

My fear was irrational. I couldn't have even told you WHY  I was afraid. I had no real reason to be afraid. I am writing from the destination right now. I love visiting this state and I certainly love it's weather, but as for the ride back home, I don't mind it. I have looked in the sky while being here and seen planes and had no fear. It is completely GONE! I'm actually excited to fly again.

So that's (the short version) my story. "How does this affect me?" you might ask? Because we are all human. We all have this dysfunction of allowing things to take hold in our lives. It may be different for all of us but the meaning is all the same. Just like I overcame my fear of flying, you can overcome whatever it is that is holding you back.

How did I do it? What was my "recipe for success"? It was not my own. I stepped onto that plane because I knew that I had a choice. I could allow it to control me or I could take the reins and tell my fear to get lost. I don't want you to think that I did this on my own strength, because I was nothing more than a scared little girl, but I knew that I had a big God who held me the entire time. I spent months before the flight praying for God to give me the strength. I prayed constantly the morning of the trip. I had numerous people praying for me. My prayers were answered because He loves me and wants only good for me. I even had a wonderful friend who works for the airlines helping me with any question I had (thank God for her patience and help!!) God gave me the strength. I want to make sure to give all the glory to Him because this would not have happened without His strength!

But with that said, He also gave me a choice. Was I going to trust Him and live or was I going to chose to stay fearful and miss out on things? It took me almost 45 years to make the choice to trust Him and get on that plane. Now I feel so silly. I have missed so much by choosing to be fearful. I could have gone on so many trips and flown to so many places, but I decided to let fear have a hold on me. I was missing out on so much fun and adventure!

So my question to you is what do you choose to do? Do you want to allow whatever is holding you back to continue keeping you from living? I challenge you today, whatever it is that is holding you back, be an overcomer! Trust in God and chose to live for Him and don't let fear hold you back. You see, that flight wasn't about my safety, it was about my trusting in an amazing God. It was about me holding onto my own abilities and not living life. Today I am praising God in Arizona because He finally showed me to let go and give Him all of the control.