A voice from my Father in Heaven and a letter from my Daddy in Heaven

I haven't sat down to write my thoughts on paper in a long time. I keep telling myself I should, it used to be a really good release for me. Well the events of today made me literally collapse and write them down.

Today has been a particularly trying day. I tried to get up and be motivated and productive, even made myself run errands so I couldn't habitually opt for sitting on the couch for hours before I got moving. It started as a hopeful day as I was waiting to hear if I was approved for a rental I applied for and there was the added bonus of the possibility of seeing Chad today. I decided to clean/pack while I was waiting for the call from the realtor.

Mid-day I found out I wasn't approved for the house and then found out my plans to see Chad weren't possible today. I was frustrated. Why can't I just get a break? I'm so tired, a bit apathetic, a lot irritated, and a tad angry. I'm sick of being here, I want to move on, to stop living in this limbo state of not knowing, of reliving tragedy and loss over and over... Please Lord move me, make this all stop and go away..........

Then I got some very uplifting texts from Chad, encouraging words he felt led to tell me: God has to say no sometimes, just like I have to tell my own children no sometimes. (paraphrased) That made me feel good, God was trying to tell me something.

The breaking point today? I was packing stuff up in the living room; knick-knacks, pictures, books, etc. Some of the stuff was dad's that I had decided to keep; his Little League hat with all his pins in it, the banner that Little League had everyone sign in his honor when he passed away, his catcher's glove, and the cigar box of picture pins from all the years my siblings and I played. I started going through the books on his book shelf to see if I wanted to keep any. That's when I found his bible.

It is a plain black bible, the spine simply says "Holy Bible" and the front has our name "Toral" on it. Inside, the first few pages acknowledged it was my dad's bible, my mom had given it to him on January 1st, 1986 in hopes of a year led by Christ. Throughout the pages someone (I'm guessing by the hand written notes, my mom) had highlighted and underlined and made side notes.

Just writing this next paragraph has my heart racing and eyes welling up... I flipped through the pages deciding whether to keep it. I got to the back cover and tucked inside was a piece of paper folded in half, and then half again. My dad always used to type out his thoughts, much like I do, so I was curious to see what he had hidden in the back of his bible. I started to sit down as I unfolded it, ready to see what hidden thoughts my dad had.

That's when I fell the rest of the way into a sitting position in the middle of the living room... upon unfolding the paper, the first thing I read was:

"Hi Teens"

And the whole world stopped.... my dad always called me "Teens," especially when we were getting along or he was being as sentimental as my dad was known to be. The letter tucked in the back of my dad's bible was to me.... to me. He had written the letter a long time ago, when I was still with my kid's dad. A point in time when my dad and I weren't really getting along. I'm not sure if he ever gave me this letter because that period of time was filled with rebelion, insisted independence and resentment/anger towards my dad. He may have given it to me but I don't remember. Regardless, his words in the letter are so relevant to today, this time period, these current struggles and events:

"I know that you are very independent and like to do things your way, a lot like your dad."

"I know that you have a vision of how you would like things to be and how you think is best to get there, however some things just can't be how you want them to be and your way isn't necessarily going to work."

"Anyway, what I'm hoping to get across is that things will work out better (not perfect) in the long run...."

Ever get the feeling God is trying to tell you something??? How about when He SCREAMS it at you? Will I listen now? How can I ignore Him after this? Enough hiding, enough anger, frustration, pity, weakness. My Father is the king of kings and says I can do anything through Him, anything.

Tomorrow I'm going to church to worship my Father and acknowledge His grace and mercy, ask Him to take the wheel once again. But right now? Right now I'm going to allow myself to put everything on the table and spend some time with my Father in Heaven remebering my daddy in Heaven.

Just A Thought

There's so many things, I want to say

In just a way

That the one person I wish would stay

Would know exactly what I'm trying to portray

The world will feed with many lies of greed

So that doing a deed

or planting a seed in obedience's creed

Will seem like a lie that I'm trying to feed

However when you walk in the light

Give up the fight

The creatures that hide in the night

Will inevitably retreat in cowardly flight

So fall on your knees and open the door

Eternity means more

Lift your hands in the air with your face on the floor

And then I'll be yours in Him evermore.

Romans 5:3-5 Hope

Romans 5:3-5 (New King James Version)

³ And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; ⁴ and perseverance, character; and character, hope. ⁵ Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.

~~~~~~~~~

As I reached another period of tribulations in my life and continue to linger here in these trials, I returned to my first love. To be honest, it was a reluctant return, only for the fact that I knew with trials and tribulation comes lessons in perseverance and obedience. Being the lazy procrastinator that I am, it's always hard to take that first step into resolution, resolve and action. Sure enough, my subsequent conversations with my maker, my king, my savior led me to some difficult realizations and decisions to be made.

This particular post will be riddled with metaphors purely for the sake of saving my personal life to remain just that- personal.

God showed me in numerous ways the wonderful things He wanted to do with my life, but as a mother only rewards her children with privileges and treats after they complete their responsibilities, God showed me some things I needed to clean up in my own life first. He asked me to let go of some serious safety blankets. In a sense- He asked me to grow up.

I liked that safety blanket. Loved it dearly. It was soft, kept me company at night, smelled good when it came out of the dryer... but I started to rely more on the blanket than God to comfort me. I stopped making God a priority. "Tina," he said, "you can't go to school with your safety blanket, you can't spend the night at a friends with a safety blanket... how can I treat you like a big kid when you're still clinging to your safety blanket?"

So I gave it to Him. I asked Him to keep it safe for me. He promised He would and I trust Him. And I'm excited to grow and be lead into the amazing things He has planned for me. I just wish my blanky could come with me. God told me that maybe my blanky could be sewn into a grand comforter suitable for His growing daughter, the love of His life, a girl becoming a woman who was saved by His son's blood.

I'm just having separation anxiety. At church tonight the Pastor posed a question to us: "What was holding us back from God?"... I love when God meets me at church and reassures me that He loves me and is always there. I knew I started to rely too much on my blanky for security, comfort and company.

I was like a child playing hide and seek. I hid under my blanky and found it so comfortable there that I stayed. Well have you ever tried hiding from God?? It didn't work... He found me. And I'm SO thankful He did. Oh the beauty you miss when you're stuck under a blanky.

What blanky are YOU hiding under? I have quite a few. God knows my heart and is being patient with me as He always is. I look forward to abandoning my worldly life and running towards Him like a little kid who hasn't seen their mommy or daddy all week. But for me it's been more than a week and I don't believe that distance/absence makes the heart grow fonder... all it does is make it easier to forget. I miss my Daddy in heaven. I miss our conversations, I miss noticing the flowers He would send me, I miss the internal peace of being in His presence.

If I'm not a shining example of the prodigal son over and over and over again.... Thank the Lord for His grace, mercy and unconditional love.

(PS- I hope my blanky becomes a huge down comforter so God gives it back to me.... and because I really like down comforters.)

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Do you remember as a "tween" or even as a teenager thinking how your life was going to END if that certain boy didn't like you back? Or the drama that ensued when your best friend ended up going out with that certain boy? Or the clicks, rumors, meeting spots, social events and status that seemed like life and death? Do you remember your parents consoling you through heartaches, BFF fights, and embarrassing moments telling you "Trust me, in ten years it won't matter to you."

I remember my dad telling me that all the time. "Why do you worry about what that person thinks? In ten years you probably won't even remember their name." And now, as I approach my thirties and my ten year reunion and parenting a pre-tweener, I realize how much I wish the drama and problems of my teenage years were the worst I had ever faced.... Oh how much adults actually have to deal with. No longer are there nights spent awake wondering if Prince Charming thinks you're pretty or even knows you exist. Now nights are spent awake unwillingly due to an attack of multiple thoughts at once... No more sugar plums, now its schedules, bills, weddings, kids birthday parties, grocery shopping, team sports, growth spurts meaning more clothes, car maintenance, doctor/dentist checkups, childcare, schoolwork, etc etc. And that's just on a normal day... forget about the days you have a flat tire, get in a fender bender, lose your keys, spill a gallon of milk, lock yourself out of your house, run late for work or picking up the kids, forget to put the uniforms in the car, or a number of other possibilities.

Things also become more intricate. Instead of the decision between right and wrong being as simple as whether to take a hit or not, take a swig or not, cheat on the test or not.... it has become much more complicated with gray lines that have been smudged and re-drawn too many times, with angry mobs of people waiting on either side to point out exactly why your decision was wrong, immoral, unfair, too fair, too emotional, too cold and so on and so on.

It's kind of like everyone forgot there was a handbook to life. I know I did. It's called the Bible. Pretty clear cut. And that's what I'm going to do now, go talk to the Author and read His words.

Good Night.

Tolerance, Empathy, and Agression

I was really hoping my next post wouldn't be a rant and vent.... however it seems that is when I write the most- when I get so caught up in my head that thoughts, problems, conflicts, solutions and feelings intermingle so much that I shut down to the outside world in order to feed the majority of my energy into my mind. Tonight, it's mainly parenting frustrations that I need to spew out because leaving them in my head wouldn't solve a thing. Once I get them out, separating the problems from the solutions and the feelings from the knowledge becomes easier.

I guess the inner, unacknowledged and hidden frustrations started when my son became conflicted over which parent's house to have his birthday party at. Up to now, I've generally thrown the "party" although his dad usually does a birthday dinner and cake ritual with them. Well I guess this year his dad offered to his son to have the party at his house after Scottie and I had already decided on a slumber party Bionacle theme. Scottie is a very sensitive and aware person. He came to the conclusion that committing to a party at one parent's house would disappoint the other parent. Of course his first solution was that he would just have two parties, one at each house, thereby avoiding any disappointment or awkward situations. I explained he could only have one party and that neither his father nor I would be mad at him for his decision. ... that's where the feeling started in me... I was so jealous that he could possibly want it at his dad's... I was angry that his father had put a seven year old in that position instead of just talking to me about plans for his birthday, I was irritated that I hadn't thought to talk to his dad as well, I was sad that my life had come to having to split up my children and unintentionally cause one of them to become upset at the thought of one of his parents being sad about where he had his party... sigh.

Well that festered in me for some time. Outwardly I handled the situation with my son and let him know that whichever he picked, I would love him always and would be at the party regardless of where it was.... inwardly I brooded. It changed my outlook on the rest of the day, my tolerance went to an abnormal low, my patience didn't exist. Even my kickboxing class seemed habitual and unproductive- just me going through the motions and not pushing myself.

This sparked the realization that there was some deep conflict in me regarding parenting. Despite today's abnormally low tolerance level, I realized I don't have that high of a tolerance level as it is... I just have the ability to put on a mask that says I am. I can't stand ignorance. I despise selfishness. I have no room for lack of common sense and I grind my teeth around stupidity. Being an empath doesn't help either because I can see through other people's mask, especially my children's, and see the true nature of their actions, comments, or words. Again, I've gotten good at hiding that inner knowledge and putting up the obligatory response to most situations. And the only reason I've become so well trained in that practice is because I also carry a bad case of passive-aggressiveness. Instead of putting people on the spot or calling out their true colors, it's much easier (and avoids the conflict I so cowardly shy away from) if I just take the manure they are shoveling in my direction. But the irritation, despise, disgust and contempt remains somewhere inside, causing an all too familiar feeling of unease, unrest, and turmoil eventually erupting somewhere within my life, usually where my comfort zones are- family, friends, and coworkers. (Which is probably why taking MMA and kickboxing is a good thing, it gives me an outlet.)

What ultimately ends up throwing the wrench in these gears is the realization that I can't, or shouldn't, get mad at someone for the lack of knowledge needed to know HOW to act in an acceptable and mature manner.... for example: Getting mad at my son for not offering up the more preferred option (like shotgun in the car) to his guest. Or at my daughter when she decides sitting next to two boys playing an active game on the Wii while she "draws" is a good idea and then throws a temper tantrum when she inevitably gets elbowed in the chest. Or at my youngest for saying "can I have some juice, can I have some juice, can I have some juice, can I have some juice, can I have some juice" over and over until I loose it.

My infuriation at these situations (and those are just one example per kid...) only hold up a mirror in my face. HOW are they supposed to know the correct response in these situations MOM??? How is a seven year old supposed to learn proper etiquette while hosting a friend? How is a six year old supposed to learn how to make decisions based on weighing the pros and cons of the situation at hand? How is a four year old supposed to learn how to politely ask somebody for something? Again with the mirror... dang it. Again with the realization that I can't really get internally MAD at them for not knowing something I myself have been given the responsibility of teaching them.

And that realization, that mirror, it only causes more angst and suffering in my head. I'm not doing a good enough job, I'm not properly responding and retraining during these instances. On days when my tolerance and patience level is at a critical level, my ability to respond and react to my children becomes pathetically dissipated.

I guess realization and acceptance of the deep causes of issues is the first step to correcting them right? And since I've pretty much laid a good foundation for discovering some inner issues at bay here, I will sign off. I promised myself I would only stay on the computer until 11 which gives me eight minutes to wrap this up and send it out.

I'll leave on this note: I've realized that even in a "job" you love, there are some days where you wonder what life would be like had you accepted a different position... so I just tell myself to remember the days where I love my "job" and I submit to the fact that I chose this job and I was handpicked for this position. I may not get a very clear job description or any guaranteed benefits or perks, but the ultimate reward is priceless and I supervise the three most promising newcomers there are, and my boss.... well He's a bit mysterious and elusive at times, but He promises me that if I just have a little faith, He'll make it all worth it in the long run. (Oh, and He tells me that each time I get promoted, some of the mysteries are revealed and so far I've known that to be the truth.) He is faithful and true, full of grace, mercy and forgiveness. (thank goodness or I would be fired...) I may not have a clear job description and I'm definitely not on any kind of salary based pay... but He always makes sure I have what I need to do my job.

God Bless you all, especially you parents- our job is the hardest and the greatest. Keep it up and don't be afraid to raise the child you wish other adults would have been.

-T

The Simple Beginning

I've decided to start writing again. And this time I'll make my writings public. Not because they're special or deserve to be read, but somehow I feel my written word has far more power to strike a chord with someone than my spoken words can.

First things first, I'm the mother of three wonderful children. My oldest, Scott, is 7 about to turn 8. My daughter Annie is 6, and my youngest, Ethan, is 4. I'm not with their father anymore but we do our best to share a 50/50 custody arrangement in a civil and respectful way. Each of my children bring something different to the table, each one will contribute in different ways to this world. Hopefully I can be the strong, faithful, loving mommy I need to be in order to raise respectful gentlemen and a proper lady. Hopefully my fight against what society says is "the proper way" to raise my kids will be won with poise, dignity, and above all, the desired results.

Second- why "The Proper Way to Eat Cheerios"? When I was in middle school, I realized I felt bad when I would leave cheerios (or any other type of cereal) in my bowl when I was finished. I somehow felt as if washing them down the drain was like taking away their purpose, the reason they were created. So I decided that everyone should eat cheerios like that, never taking away their purpose, their hopes, their dreams. Therefore I needed to write a book about it... which I've never done. But now I've created a blog and used my book title from my childhood to create a virtual place for me to explain the proper way to eat cheerios, as well as other life observances, thoughts, experiences, and probably rants and vents. (Forewarning- I use a lot of metaphors. And if you comment, great! However my blog is not a place to debate your views/thoughts/points against mine. But feel free to start your own blog to object to mine.)

Hope you enjoy my writing and I pray some of my words will inspire, illuminate, and/or bring a smile to your face.

-T