Is God Real?

Lately, I have found myself questioning faith.  No, not questioning my faith.  Just faith in general.  I've been thinking about it in terms of being on the outside looking in.  From the viewpoint of someone who cannot understand how us "crazy Christians" can believe something so absurd.  That there is one true God who loved everyone with reckless abandon.  That there was a man, that same God's son, who walked the earth, lived and breathed.  That he worked miracles and spoke words that sounded insane.  That he died on a cross meant for sinners, though he had not sinned.  That he rose from the dead, by the power of his Father, and now lives in our hearts.

When I think about it for too long, I start to wonder how it is that I can believe the way that I do.  And I start to think about the other religions out there.  What makes Christianity the one true religion, and not just another in the long line of religious beliefs out there?

The Dreaded Sex Talk

I'm not one to write lengthy blog posts about great sex or ways to improve intimacy within marriage through sex.  While I believe that it is vitally important and a wonderful gift from God, I'll leave that to the other Christian bloggers out there who are as passionate about that topic as I am about hope and freedom and redemption.

But I do want to talk about sex.

Specifically when it comes to how it impacts my children.

Because this world scares me.

My Weight Made Him Stray

I have written before about the lies that we, as women, believe about ourselves.  This lie hits very close to home for me, as I have battled gaining then losing, gaining and losing again, over and over again.  And recently, I have been hearing these same sentiments from other women lately and I just can't let it go without writing my thoughts on it.

Here is the lie:

If only I hadn't gained all of this weight, then my husband would want me.

That man still fights!

It is amazing to me what a night of sleep (or even a few hours) can do for your soul.  Somehow all the weight of the world and the hurt and sadness get lightened as your body does what it is naturally supposed to do: sleep.

Last night I was feeling really low.  Kris and I had ended the evening on a negative note and he went to bed, while I stayed out in the living room crying and writing.  It is so hard in the midst of hurt feelings and pain to see beyond it.  Last night, I knew that all was going to be well.  I knew that in the morning my perspective would be different, fresher.  But in the moment, I allowed my sad, negative emotions to just be present.  Why is it that we derive some sort of sick pleasure out of wallowing in our misery?  What is that all about?

Control or Be Controlled?

I'm really struggling right now.

In this moment, and just in general.  My pain has been out of control, and I have resorted to taking the pain medication, which unfortunately impacts my emotions.  It makes me edgier than usual, and I just don't feel like myself while taking them.  I get angry quicker (if that's possible!), and I lash out at the slightest annoyance.

I'm finding it extremely difficult to put into practice this idea of having control over my emotions.

Consider it PURE joy

Exactly two months ago, I was in the hospital recovering, after have two discs in my neck removed and fused.  The journey to get to surgery was a grueling, four year long battle with doctors and pain.  Never once during that trial did I consider the pain to be JOY.

Most of that time was spent living as a prodigal, enslaved in an affair that lasted for many years.  Those who have never experienced or endured chronic pain have a hard time understanding how someone can sit around and do nothing all day.  They call it lazy.  They call it undisciplined.  They don't understand how hard it is to even sit up in the morning, much less get out of bed and try to get through another pain-filled day.