Something To Do

At first, I didn't think eating was a topic worthy of a blog post.  Especially one that targets single parents.  After all, everyone reading this eats.  Every family now days juggles meal times and food preferences among individuals within the family.  And, unfortunately, most families in America have someone in it that struggles with some form of weight issue.

I am currently reading one of those books that has the potential to be life changing.  Nearly every paragraph contains a bit of information I feel compelled to highlight or write a note about.  What I hate to admit is, that it is about weight loss.  As a Health Major, I always figured I knew all there was to know about nutrition and behavior change.  And that my issue is with behavior change.  That's why I picked up this book, in particular.  It is about behavior change from a Spiritual perspective.  And I can't seem to put it down!

The name of the book is ”Made to Crave” by Lysa TerKuerst.  It is like nothing I've ever read before.  Life changing I tell you!

But this post is not about the book.  It's about why I think the struggle to maintain one's weight is different for the single parent...or at least for me.

(Please let me clarify:  when I say, ”single parent”, I DON'T just mean an unmarried parent.  A single parent is any parent who - for whatever reason - is making a decision on behalf of the family ALONE.  You can be a single parent in one situation, or in all situations - whether it is because you do not have the support of the other parent, or because there is no other parent.  It does not matter.)

So, when I talk about how difficult it is to be one adult trying to convince 2 kids to eat what I cook, and you say, ”Well, my husband complains as much as the kids so that's like having 3 kids!”- you are right!  In that case, you ARE a single parent!  And if your partner never offers to cook or even grill a streak, again, I say, in that situation, you ARE a single parent! 

That is why I decided that my struggle with my weight was worth writing about.  When you are responsible for motivating a family, yet don't have anyone at home who support s you, holds you accountable and cheers you on, it really does compound the problem.  At some point, you have to refill YOUR well, so to speak.

So, for me, tackling the problem of my weight has to be a spiritual one.  Because God is the only other parent in my house.  One of my favorite quotes from this book, ”Made To Crave” is: ”Shallow desires produce only shallow efforts.  Deep desires produce deep efforts.”  In other words, if I just want to loose weight to look good and, of course, be healthier (both worldly in nature), my efforts are going to reflect that.  They, too, will be ”shallow” and worldly because I am relying on the world as my ideal and as my support.  However, as I have started to develop a deeper, more spiritual desire to be the best I can be in order to fulfill God's purpose for my life and glorify the body he has blessed me with (his ”temple”), my efforts have become more meaningful and less temporary.  I am beginning to ”crave” victory over my weight as much as I crave food.  (cinnamon rolls!)

As I continued to read, I began to think about WHY I crave certain foods.  What is it about cinnamon rolls or salt vinegar chips, for instance that makes me not care for about 10 minutes about any progress I've made?  By jove!  I realized that I crave extremes...extremely sour and extremely sweet.  And I think it has something to do with feeling restricted in my life, or, as much as I despise hearing my kids say it, BORED.

As parents, we willingly sacrifice so much for our kids.  We sacrifice time, money, even dreams.  But for single parents, there is no reprieve.  There is no option to leave the kids with the other parent so enjoy some exercise, get outdoors, or even take a bath for that matter.  There is no break.  Some divorced parents get every other weekend to catch their breath, but by then, it is just that, recovering from exhaustion.  Others can take advantage of friends and family to catch a quick vacation, but for many, there is literally no adult time.  So, one must do the best they can with what they have...at home.  And what is the one thing that we all have easy access to, that creates pleasure for the entire family at little our no extra cost?  FOOD!  Not just any food, but food that stimulates the senses and creates excitement.

I am in this category.  Food has truly become my hobby.  I can do it any time, anywhere, with anyone.  I can travel to 3 different places in one meal (and I do prefer Italy, Mexico, and the wild west) and take my children with me!  And, it's a hobby that is appropriate for any situation and associated with all my best memories.  Yes, eating makes me very happy.  Ugh!!!

The next challenge is to find a replacement.  This is why it HAS to be God.

1 John 2:  15-16

15 Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 16 For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life —is not from the Father but is from the world.

The Purpose

Ok, I obviously have not blogged in quite some time. I think about it often, but then remember where I left off. It seems that the thought of reliving the most painful parts of my life is keeping me from doing the thing I have felt called to do. I have prayed and prayed about it…not just once, but every time I think about writing. However, the prayers haven't been about WHAT to write, they have been about asking for the STRENGTH to write.

This morning, I woke up - feeling overwhelmed by all that we commit ourselves to - and began to pray. As on most mornings, I felt the call to write. And, as on most mornings, I began to plead with God.

It normally goes something like this, "Oh man, seriously? Ok, but first I have to get my coffee." As I go down the stairs, I trip over a cat meowing at me for food and/or to be let outside. When I get to the kitchen, I see that the dogs got into the trash can…again. Then, in my head, I begin to blame my teenage daughter for not taking out the trash instead of laying on the couch all afternoon with her boyfriend. When I go to the kitchen cabinet to retrieve my coffee mug, I find that there are no clean mugs…in fact, there is a sink full of dishes (pretty standard, really). Again, I begin to think blaming thoughts about my children for not doing their chores. Upon rinsing out a mug, I begin to prepare my coffee. While I wait for the coffee to be ready, I go from window to window, pulling back all of the curtains to let some light in. As I go from window to window and room to room, each area greets me with some form of neglect (again, nothing new): dusty furniture, stains on the carpet, mail thrown onto my desk that needs to be opened, cups on the floor from the trash in the kitchen, snack wrappers left on the coffee table...

And so, the day begins.

The bell on the kitchen timer "dings" to remind me to get my coffee.

On a normal day, I would get my coffee and either begin to clean up any of the afore mentioned messes, (completely forgetting about my earlier conversation with God) or I would continue my conversation with God as I cleaned, all the while pointing out that "I do not have time to spend doing things like blogging!"  Sound familiar???

However, this morning, the prayer in my bedroom went a little differently. As I felt the usual dread creeping into my thoughts about writing about my first marriage (and believe me…there is MUCH to dread!) and subsequently, the deaths of my husband and father, God gave me something different…a sense of peace. That's how I know it is God. It is that "peace that passes all understanding". You don't just go in an instant from your heart racing and an overwhelming feeling of doubt in yourself, to having an answer and feeling like you could easily go back to sleep.

Here is the answer:

This blog was not meant to be a place for me to relive the past, but it is meant to be a place to write about my present; to share with anyone who wants (or needs) to connect with someone else who struggles to get through each and every day in a world that is too busy to stop and ask, "Are you still ok?"

So, that is what I am going to do. But there is still the question, "Why should anyone listen to me?" This question prompted me to write about the "painful stuff" in the first place. While it is important to know what my life experiences have been, God has revealed that the details are not as important for this task. Let's suffice it to say that I have experienced quite a bit of loss. As I wrote in a previous post (a year ago!), I lost my Mom to cancer when I was a teenager.  After that, I spent 6 years in a physically and emotionally abusive marriage to a man with bipolar disorder – with whom I have a teenage daughter. (This is the story that is most difficult to write about. I think it is because it is an issue that I continue to deal with because of my commitment to my daughter and because it was the one situation in which I could have done things differently.) I then married an amazing, funny, Christian man. Six months later, we found out on a Monday that I was pregnant (yay!). That Friday, we learned that my husband had terminal cancer. He died of metastatic bone cancer (like my mother) 18 months later. I was 28.  Then, 2 years after that, my father died of a heart attack. I praise God he did not have to suffer like my Mom and my husband.

In a nutshell, that is my story.

My goal now is to write about my daily experiences and pray very fervently that if anyone feels alone, they will find this blog (or another one that they need to read) and know that they are not.

1 Thessalonians 5: 14-15 tells us to "…encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. ¹⁵ Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else." This is the purpose of this blog. Who knows? Maybe it is my purpose.

Most importantly for the lonely, God IS there. As Rev. Diane Presley pointed out in her sermon yesterday, "He is in everything".

But the only way you will sense him and his peace is to turn to him. Just like a parent, he is always waiting for you, ready to help. But, like a parent, he cannot force you. You say, "I have called to him!" I say, "Have you truly listened?" Or have you given up when you didn't hear what you expected to hear? Trust me, I did! Never give up.

" ¹⁶ Rejoice always, [even when it hurts!]¹⁷ pray continually,¹⁸ give thanks in all circumstances [because, as Rev. Presley made clear, God is there, "moving", even if you don't always feel him]; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." - 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

 Heavenly Father,

I love you so, so much. You have been with me when I have felt like no one else was. You were there even when I doubted you. And, as the years have gone by and I have looked for you, you have revealed yourself to me, again and again.

Thank you for the Holy Spirit. Thank you for your forgiving ways and for never giving up on me. Thank you for showing me each and every day where you want me to go and what you want me to do, if only I will ask and if only I will listen to YOUR answer.

I pray, Lord, that you will wrap your amazing, loving arms around those who are hurting. I pray that you will gently, lovingly fill them with the strength to call upon you. I pray that you will lead them to this blog or to wherever they need to go to find the strength they need and that when they read it, or hear it, they will be able to discern your will, Lord; not mine, not anyone else's, but yours.

In the name of YOUR son, Jesus Christ, Amen.

The Glass Breaks - Goodbye Mom

"I want to be sure you know where this stuff came from." 

 "Um, Okay?" I said,  in the sarcastic tone of a 17 year old daughter. 

 I don't remember if I actually said it, or if it was just the thought that was going through my mind, but what I remember feeling and maybe even saying was, "Why do I need to know?  I know you are sick and you don't feel well, but you are going to be fine.  And I don't really have time right now."

You see, I was 17, an honor student, obsessed with theater and performance choir at school, was the youth lay representative at my local church, active in the youth group, sang in the chancel choir at church, took voice lessons and participated in vocal competitions, worked a part-time job, was deeply engrossed in the college research process and was preparing to be "the best" at whatever I chose to do as a career (namely, vocal performance - which included auditions at any of the major schools I was considering).  And all of this had to be done without my parents.  My Mom was nearly completely bed-ridden with bone cancer and my father was out of town most of the time on business.

As much I was trying to be empathetic, I really didn't feel like I had the time and I was having difficulty focusing on what my mother was trying to tell me.  Not to mention, I just couldn't accept it.

(I had planned to write this blog the day after the last blog I wrote which was November 12.  But for some reason, I haven't been able to do it.  In fact, now that I think about it, it's kind of like that evening my mother wanted to give me a history lesson about the family heirlooms...it hasn't been a conscious decision not to write.  Once again, subconsciously, I have allowed a full schedule and the fact that I am incredibly "busy" be my excuse.  I simply haven't had time.  It has been nagging and nagging at me and I have been doing what I have always done...AVOIDING it.  But, just this morning, The Daily Bread from "Love, Serve, Shine! Ministries" reminded me that sometimes, the "nagging" shouldn't be ignored!  Many times, it is GOD's way of answering our prayers about, "What am I supposed to be doing, Lord?  Tell me what you want me to do!"  So...I'm doing it...)

November 13, 1988

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon which, as always, involved UMYF (United Methodist Youth Fellowship).  I don't remember the exact schedule, but I do remember that I had a full evening planned.  And, oh, by the way...my Mom was in the hospital again.

She wasn't at the Morton Cancer Research Center in Dallas this time.  She and Dad had become frustrated with the doctors there, so she had visited with our local family doctor who had treated our family for years.  He immediately checked her into the local hospital to run more tests.  My sense was that we were starting over with a "clean slate".

I had a regular schedule when she was in the hospital that involved visiting her first thing in the morning and then again in the evenings on the weekends and just the evenings on the weekdays.  In fact, that was my schedule even when she was at home.  But I ALWAYS went.  I LOVED to go.  It helped me to cope.  It was sort of like my therapy.  The doctors and nurses did what they do best...took care of her and took care of me.  And Mom was always so funny and positive.  I loved to talk to her.
And, let's not forget the food!  Strange as it sounds, I loved hospital food.  I was always there for breakfast and dinner!

So, this Sunday morning, I visited her before church, as usual.  I distinctly remember that it was a gorgeous day and I was very thankful for it...cool, but not cold, sunny, and a vibrant blue sky.  When I got to Mom's room, she was in a great deal of distress which was unusual.  Usually, her complaints were of pain - which was managed with pain medication - and fatigue.  But she was clearly having trouble breathing; not just a little, but she was really struggling.  She was on the verge of panicking.  Mom kept reaching for her chest and asked me to call the nurse.  She kept saying she felt like she was drowning.  This was particularly disturbing because she had always been extremely fearful of water.  She never learned to swim because she was always afraid of drowning. 

When the nurse arrived, she was irritatingly casual.  My Mom felt as though she was drowning and this woman came strolling in, routinely checking tubes and saying things like, "Honey, you're fine.  You're breathing just fine.  You're sats are fine."  But Mom repeated that she was not.  You could visually see her trying to calm herself.  She always tried to do exactly what they told her to do.  I think the nurse thought she was simply having an anxiety attack...that had apparently been going on all night.

Fortunately, the doctor was making his rounds and walked in during this.  He, thankfully, was immediately concerned.  He knew my mother well enough to know that she didn't often complain about this sort of thing and could see that something was not right.  He listened to her breathe with his stethoscope and became quite alarmed.

I don't remember if I ended up going to church that morning or not.  I feel like I probably did because the next thing I can clearly remember is being with her now in the ICU.  I had my best friend from church with me.  We were smiling and talking.  Mom seemed more relaxed.  Then, all of a sudden, the ICU nurse came over and said that they were going to be transferring her to another hospital in Dallas.  They had determined that fluid was building up in her lungs and needed to be drained off.  The procedure needed to be done elsewhere.  Ironically, the Dr. that was going to do the procedure was my father's cardiologist, whom I had also come to know well.  So, I was sure everything was going to be fine.  It was simply a routine procedure that needed to be done where they had the right equipment. Then, as if in a  whirlwind, I began scrambling to figure out what needed to happen next.  I had my friend, Kristi, with me and needed to get her home.  My Grandmother (my Mom's Mom) was at my house.  I needed to get to her to tell her what was happening.  I had notify the rest of my family that they were moving her.  I asked the nurse if they could wait until I got back.  She indicated that they had already arranged for the ambulance to transport my Mom and that when it was time to go, it was time to go.

So, I gave my Mom a kiss and told her I would meet her at the other hospital.  If I remember correctly, she seemed much calmer as if she was just glad they were going to fix it.  So, I was calm as well...just had to hurry.

I took Kristi home and went to my house to get my Grandma.  I don't remember how my brother found out what was going on.  (Heck, he may have even been there.  The only faces in the ICU I can see in my mind are my Mom and the nurse.)  But, the next memory I have is of my brother, my grandmother, and I getting into a car in front of my house to leave for the hospital.

Oh!  And where was my father, you might ask?  It seems that he, too, felt comfortable with all that was happening because, as so many times before, he left to go on a business trip earlier that day.  He always drove because he was a petroleum engineer and worked a lot out in West Texas.  I don't remember seeing him at all that day, although I'm sure I did.  I have a faint memory of him talking to Mom about whether or not he should go and of her telling him it was okay; but I don't know if that really happened or not.

Again, things get fuzzy except for the profound moments.  The next thing I recall is being in the elevator talking to my brother and my grandmother.  We had to figure out where to go as we had not been there when Mom arrived.  I cannot remember the details of the conversation, but I have a strange sense of irony about the conversation, as if my brother and I were trying to analyze the significance of what was happening.  It seems as if we had been told that we could not see her and didn't know why.

Suddenly, in the waiting room, I very clearly remember a shift in the way I was feeling.  My mood went from one of frustration from not knowing what was going on to one of intense dread in merely an instant.  The feeling swept over me so quickly that I felt nauseous.  I don't know if I actually fell down on my knees but I remember feeling very dizzy as if I couldn't stand up.  I believe my brother even asked me what was wrong.  Shortly thereafter, the nurse, who - amazingly - was a friend of the family whom I had known for as long as I could remember, came into the waiting area...and I knew.  Mom was gone.

The hours that followed are indeed, as they say, "a blur".   I'm not sure who initiated the search for my Dad.  I think it was probably my brother.  All I know is that it took hours.  We were there at the hospital just waiting and waiting.  I'm not even sure what for.  I don't remember if we were literally waiting for Dad, or if we were taking care of the "arrangements".  But, finally, we learned that a state trooper was able to pull Dad over and give him the news.  And we were still at the hospital when he arrived.  By the time it was all said and done, there was quite a gathering of people at that hospital there to support us, mostly from our church.  Even my friend, Kristi, came with her parents.  Before leaving, we all formed a circle, held hands, and the pastor of our church led us in prayer.

It turns out, that Mom had endured so much chemotherapy, that it had actually began to destroy the pericardium - the protective lining - which surrounded her heart and somehow, blood was backing up into her lungs.  My mother was, indeed, drowning.  When they aspirated the fluid, which turned out to be blood, a clot loosened and moved into such a precarious position that it prevented her from getting the oxygen she needed in order to survive.

At that moment, I became an adult.  My father continued to go "on business trips".  My grandmother went home and decided she could never return because it would be too painful (and she never did).  My sister (who lived in Austin) returned to college, and everyone else went on with their lives.  For the first time, my "schedule"- my "busy"- didn't help; nor did it matter.  This, I could not avoid.

Proverbs 15:13 (Amp):

A glad heart makes a cheerful countenance, but by sorrow of heart the spirit is broken. 

Transparency

Glass can be cloudy or transparent

trans·par·ent:  

[trans-pair-uhnt, -par-] –adjective

1. having the property of transmitting rays of light through its substance so that bodies situated beyond or behind can be distinctly seen.

"This little light of mine,

I'm gonna let it shine!

This little light of mine,

I'm gonna let it shine,

Let it shine,

Let it shine,

Let it shine!"

Not only did my Granny share her love of glass with me, she also shared her love of singing.  Most particularly, hymns.  One of the very first songs I remember singing was "This Little Light of Mine".  Even though she was in her late 60's and had the purest white hair, she played and sang with me as if she were still a child.  I can very vividly remember her teaching me the hand motions.  We would "Hide it under a bushel? NO!" with such great enthusiasm.  She made sure I sang, "Shine all over Lewisville!" and I ran all over the house with my fingers swirling in the air above my head.

Very early, I learned that as a Christian, I had a great responsibility to "let my little light shine". Of course, I think my siblings would say that this probably gave me an inflated sense of my own importance, but I have always felt like I had a duty to shine HIS light to the best of my ability.

Matthew 5:16 (New International Version) - In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

It has been longer than I intended since I posted my last blog.  As a single mother, it is especially difficult to  "keep up with the Jones'"...especially since I'm only ONE "Jones"!

So, my first excuse for not writing is not having enough time. I have been trying to make morning Bible study a committed part of my routine.  Last week, I pulled my 11 year old daughter out of her exemplary rated public middle school due to an increasing amount of anxiety and began homeschooling.  I spent the past weekend on a retreat with our church choir preparing for the first Christmas Mass I have done in many years.  On the trip, I came down with a nasty cold which almost prevented me from singing on Sunday morning.  Still, on Monday and Tuesday, I took my daughter to a zoo and then a wildlife preserve to study the animals. She wants to be a zoologist and I thought it would be a great way to "kick off" her homeschool experience.  This really wiped me out as my cold didn't take kindly to the dust and animal dander and I was in bed most of Wednesday and Thursday.  My soon-to-be 16 year old is an Advanced Placement student who is also active in church and school activities and therefore, requires frequent taxi service.  I am doing "homeschool" Driver's Education with her.  Additionally, I started a pet sitting business within the past 2 weeks.  Add to that volunteer work with the Humane Society and fostering a new dog, and you have just another crazy week.  Now, I know that many of you who are not single parents are thinking that this sounds like your life, too.  Please keep in mind that I also fix my own flats, do all of the lawn work, trouble-shoot the garbage disposal, and do my own fence repair.

So, in the midst of all of this, and with a hundred different ideas floating around in my head about what I want to share, I became very overwhelmed by what exactly to write.  The following is a copy of an e-mail I sent to Rebecca Carrell (author of "The Daily Bread" and creator of the website "Love, Serve, Shine!") this morning:

Rebecca, I have run into a time management issue and would love your advice.  When I am going through my day, I think of a whole range of topics to write about in my blog and I either don't have a pen, don't have paper, or am driving.  I'll think of 3 or 4 things a day.  Then, I get home and am distracted by all that is going on and put off writing until "It's quiet and I can think".  Well, by then, my brain is either fried or, well, the quiet just never comes.  What does your 'writing routine' look like?

In the mornings, I wake up fresh and ready to write.  I begin to pray about it and cannot remember where I wanted to go in my writing or cannot decide which avenue to take.  I keep praying for clarity of purpose.  So, again, I am "waiting" on that clarity.  There are SO MANY things I feel called to communicate, yet, I am not writing...

Thank you for the insight!

Rebecca and I talked on the phone for half an hour.  We had an amazing conversation.  But, she said something in particular that I really believe God intended for her to communicate to me.  "You know, Sherry," she said, "your wisdom and knowledge are not really what is going to touch people.  What is going to impact them the most is your vulnerability."  Wow!  Talk about an "a-ha moment"!  I have been trying so hard to carefully choose my words and say just the right things, that I lost sight of my purpose.  It is through my own transparency that I can be the most beneficial.

As Rebecca so eloquently reminded me, this blog is God's gift to me.  It is my opportunity to heal as well as an opportunity to be a beacon of the Holy Spirit.

John 1:5: The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.  (Praise God for that! LOVE this one!  Can I get an "Amen"?!)

 2 Corinthians 4:6: For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.

Like church glass, we come to the Lord stained, warped, and broken.  But, if we remain transparent; if we search and reveal even the roughest parts of ourselves and allow the light of the Holy Spirit to shine through us - to wash away our burdens and imperfections - the light reveals in us something truly glorious.

So, I have decided that I am going to stop trying to come up with the perfect words and just let God do the work.  Novel idea, huh?  I am just simply going to tell my story.

Glass

Psalm 23:4
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

John 16:32 

...And yet I am not alone, because my Father is with me.

Hebrews 13:5
...God himself has said, `I will never be away from you. I will never leave you alone.'

Ok!  I get it...I AM NOT ALONE!!

But all the words in the world don't always bring comfort, do they?  What do we do when we are so exhausted that we cannot find the strength to find Faith?  ..."baby steps".

Like Job, sometimes we are so overcome with grief that even our most cherished friends and family cannot console us.

Job 3:26 - "I have no peace, no quietness; I have no rest, but only turmoil."

As I said in my first blog, after my husband died, no matter how hard I tried, I could not find the peace I so desperately yearned for.  Not in other Moms, my family, or even other widows... although I knew they had the best intentions.  In fact, I even felt guilty.  They wanted so much to offer themselves to me.  I felt as if I was somehow robbing them of an opportunity to minister to me.  In hind sight, I probably was.

But, again, selfishly - like Job - no matter how hard I fought the urge, what I really wanted to SCREAM to everyone else was, "This is not about YOU and what you have wanted to do to hasten our recovery.  This is about ME, MY children, and what we continue to NEED!" Said Job to the friends who became frustrated with him, "Teach me, and I will be quiet; show me where I have been wrong.  How painful are honest words!  But what do your arguments prove?"  Job 6:24

I have always loved glass.  My Granny died when I was 14 years old.  One of my favorite memories of her tiny little house is of her "china" cabinet.  I put the word "china" in quotation marks, because I don't think she ever owned any real china.  What was in there were a lot of "knick-knacks", as she called them.  Some of them may have been porcelain.  I'm not sure.  But my favorite things in this cabinet were made of glass.  One of her sisters collected carnival glass and my Granny, too, had acquired some of it. It was absolutely beautiful the way the colors swirled and melted together.  Some of it was an amazing bubbly, iridescent purple color. That was by far my favorite.  Some of it was a softer pink color.  Though not my absolute favorite, I still loved it.  Because there was not much to do there, I found myself spending what seemed like hours in front of that little cabinet studying the glass figures inside.  I was amazed both by the way the glass could take on almost any shape and by the infinite patterns within the glass itself.  Not only were there different patterns within the glass, even the patterns changed depending on how you looked at it.

On a rare occasion, Granny would actually open the cabinet and allow me to hold her delicate trinkets.  I remember how excited I was.  However, now as an adult (and more specifically, a parent), I realize just exactly how much she loved me.  Granny never had much in the way of anything fancy. But, she trusted a five year old kid with some of her favorite things.  And she didn't stand over me and tell me to "be careful!".  She sat down on the floor with me in front of the cabinet and looked at them with me, as if she was seeing them for the first time.  We would talk about the colors and laugh at the faces we had imagined from the patterns we saw.  She always had stories to tell me about each and every piece; where she was when she got it, who gave it to her or whom she was with, and the significance it held for her.  That was something I always loved about her.  Even the simplest things had meaning to her.

That is the way I picture Jesus: joyfully sitting on the floor telling fascinating stories to those he cherishes.  Gently speaking to his children and teaching us the right way to do things.  Allowing us - even given us permission - to experience the world around us, all the while sitting strategically close in order to catch us if we should make a mistake.

Although the glass in Granny's cabinet symbolized specific events or people in her life, glass has taken on a different symbolic meaning for me.  Not only does it remind me of my Granny and of a time in my life when I was cared for in a very special way, but it represents an emotional journey.

You see, glass can be can be sharp and treacherous yet smooth and calming.  It can be transparent or it can be cloudy.  Glass is fragile, but can be strong.  And, yes, glass can be broken; but the pieces retain all of the infinite beauty, brilliance, and wonder that is glass.  And the possibilities for restoration are endless.


Job had to go through the process of grief.  One of the steps toward restoration is coming to terms with the brokenness.  Often times we want to find someone to blame.  What I want to say to you is, that although it may not be right, it IS normal!  God included the book of Job in the Bible not only as an example of the rewards of perseverance, but as an example of his understanding of our humanness.  I believe that we all feel this way at least once in our lives. Unfortunately, it was easy for Job to lash out at his friends.  Despite their best intentions, they had it all wrong.  They assumed that Job had done something to bring the tough times on himself, when in fact, it was only because of God's faith in him, that Satan was allowed to test him!  Job 2:3-6 - "Then the LORD said to Satan, "Have you considered my servant Job? ...And he still maintains his integrity...Very well, then, he is in your hands; but you must spare his life."  What an honor!  To add to the awe of this story,  it was the least likely of the group of friends who was able to see through the mess and uncover the truth.  Job 32:6 "I am young in years, and you are old; that is why I was fearful, not daring to tell you what I know."  He continues:

Job 33:12-14 - "...for GOD is greater than man.  Why do you complain to him that he answers none of man's words?  For God does speak - now one way, now another - though man may not perceive it."

Job 34:23 - "The Almighty is beyond our reach and exalted in power; in his justice and great righteousness, he does not oppress."

READ THAT AGAIN!  Praise GOD for the wisdom of Elihu, Job's young friend!


I hope that those of you who have been with me through the many trying years of my journey know how much I truly appreciate you. It would be impossible for me to ever communicate my gratitude.  I can only equate your frustration to the frustration I have felt when trying to get information across to a student who is not open to receive it.  But, like a good teacher, a good friend is patient and seeks out ways to communicate that are specific to the needs of the individual.  They do not give up.  This is the example that Jesus gave us.  It is called unconditional love.    A person has to be READY to receive the information.  And, much to our disliking, it takes time; some longer than others . "  Baby steps" are OK.


Thank you God that you understand our faults and have given us the means to overcome them.  Take the broken pieces and form them into something beautiful beyond our wildest dreams.


ROCK On!


Sherry
Psalm 62:2 - "He alone is my ROCK and my salvation; he is my fortress.  I will never be shaken."

You Are Not Alone

Hello, my name is Sherry Paddie and I am a single mom.

No, this is not Alcohoics Anonymous (although...well, we'll save that for another day!), but it is intended to be a sort of therapy...and I hope you get something out of it, too!  ;)

First of all, let me say that I am honored to be a part of a wonderful new ministry known as Love, Serve, Shine at www.loveserveshine.com.  I am amazed and inspired by the women of this ministry and cannot wait to pass along the blessings I know are in store!

I am, first and foremost, "Mama".  I have been widowed for 11 years, 9 months, and 5 days.  For much of that time, I have yearned for someone - ANYONE - who could relate to me as a young widow with 2 small children.  And I have to tell you (although I'm sure fear and depression prevented me from looking as hard as I should have) I never found anyone.  I knew there were others out there.  I had seen some on Oprah!  But, where was someone real that I could talk to who could affirm that I was not going crazy? That is exactly why I am sharing my story.  With all of the technology and resources, I feel like I should have just been able to get on the internet and look up "widowed parents" or even "single parents" and find some support.  But it just wasn't that easy.  My goal with this blog is to be as transparent as possible in order to assure you that you are not alone. 

As a Christian, I searched desperately at various churches in the area.  I was desperate to know that things were going to be OK.  But I didn't want to hear it from my peers.  I couldn't hear it from the stay-at-home soccer Moms who drove Lexus SUV's and awaited their husbands' arrival from work each day.  I couldn't hear it from the other widows in the "Widows Small Group" who were 70 years old and had already raised their kids.  I couldn't hear it from my siblings.  My sister has no children and my brother (who is older than I) had help raising his kids.  I couldn't hear that "God was with me".  I already knew that!  And I wanted HIM to provide me with a person, flesh and blood, in whom to confide.  I wanted to hear it from someone who had been there!

The title of this blog is PIECES.  I chose this name because for the past 11 years, that is how I have felt.  I have felt as if I was literally coming to pieces...both literally and figuritively. 

What I want to offer now is hope...from someone who HAS been there.  I want you to know that God can and will - in time - take those pieces and put them back together in a way that will be beyond your wildest dreams.  I pray that God will use me to be of some comfort, perhaps even inspiration, to those of you out there who feel overwhelmed...especially, single parents.

Yesterday, as I was contemplating what to write about in my opening blog, I heard a pastor on the radio by the name of Jack Graham, author of "Power Points".  At first, I wanted to turn the radio off.  I am very inspired by music and by pastors "in person", but often, speaking voices on the radio do not hold my attention.  But, just as I was about to hit the "off" button, I heard him say, "This particular message is for Single Parents."  WHAT?  You are telling me that I am about to start writing a blog to, for, and by single parents and the one message I hear on the radio today is for us?  Let me just tell you...this is how my life has been lately. "Coincidences are God's way of remaining anonymous."  Friend, I'm here to tell you that there are no coincidences!  GOD was speaking to me (and consequently to you) through Jack Graham yesterday morning.  The message, as I interpret it, was this:

You have to continually set aside time for yourself.  You have to pray.  You have to meditate. You have to grieve.  You have to laugh.  You have to rest.  You have to heal.  Only then can you be the kind of example for your children that you want to be.   We single parents are so overwhelmed that we cannot even think.  Reverend Graham said, "Put GOD first".  Yes, you have heard that before, but meditate on it for a moment.  You say you don't have time...I say that if you put GOD first, you WILL have time!  Kids need to see their parents do Godly things. You can tell them what you want them to know, but they learn from what they have modeled for them.  Is the most important thing you teach your children what sort of job to have when they grow up?  Then why do we put our jobs first?  What you really want is for them is to have peace, to know joy, and to know how to cope when things get rocky.  Well, you have to demonstrate those qualities so your kids can learn them from you. And, that takes a great deal of faith. What's most important to you right now is you and your children.  But, if you put God first, he will take care of you and your children. Your boss won't.

Now, I am not saying that having that kind of faith comes naturally.  It has taken me 11 years to wrap my mind around it.  And all the while, I have beaten myself up. I mean, I've done it, but quite by accident.  But, as my faith grows, it becomes easier.  Again, that sort of change takes TIME and that is OK.  One of the silly little sayings that I have latched onto lately is "baby steps".  ANY steps made towards a deeper relationship with Christ will strengthen you and bring you peace.

In Jack Graham's message yesterday morning, he quoted the scripture, Deuteronomy 31:6 "...Do not be afraid or terrified ...for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."

Guess what?  That means that YOU ARE NOT ALONE!

Footprints in the Sand

    One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. 

  Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.

   In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. 

    Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, 

     other times there was only one.

       This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, 

      when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, 

  I could see only one set of footprints. 

   So I said to the Lord,

“You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. 

       But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life

there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most,

 have you not been there for me?”

       The Lord replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, 

   my child, is when I carried you.”

 Mary Stevenson, 1936