That's Not Your Name

For most of my life I struggled with believing the truth about myself.  Unless it was the ugly truth.  I had no problem embracing the lies that told me I was not enough, or that my sin was too great to ever be forgiven.  I held onto the belief that if I did something wrong, THAT is what defined me.  That is who I was.  My sin is who I was.  I was broken.  Messed up.  I could never be fixed.

Beyond that, I've struggled with more shallow things.  Like, not being pretty.  Being overweight.  But the biggest thing I have wrestled with throughout the years has been my ability to be a good mother.  There are voices all around.  Some are encouraging.  But most, however well-intentioned they may be, are downright hurtful.

At A Crossroads

It's so hard to watch your children flounder.  As a parent, you want to do everything in your power to protect your child.  Whether it be from bullies or hardship, or their own mistakes, we want the best for our kids, don't we?

I never imagined that I would agonize as much as I do over my son and his schooling.  Some of you know what we went through with our son just after Christmas.  I didn't write much about it, and still want to be careful how much I share because I don't want to hurt my son, now twelve.

Leaving The Island

I can't help but feel emotional thinking about my 15th wedding anniversary. 3 years ago there is no way I would have ever imagined that I would feel the way I do today.  3 years ago I was as far from caring about my marriage as could be, with no desire to change anything. I was perfectly content to live my life on the sidelines, or worse, in darkness as I tried to live two different lives.

"No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other." Matthew 6:24

I tell women this all the time: at the end there, before I surrendered my selfish desires and sinful heart to the will and discipline of God, I was in love with another man. And I felt nothing for my own husband, the man I had vowed to love above all others, until death parted us. While I would not have called what I was doing hatred towards God or my husband, it really was. I was devoted to my life of sin, I loved the darkness for the "protection" it provided, and I despised Kris. I didn't care about God, right or wrong, or my husband. There was always a small part of me that worried about the pain I was causing others - but the farther away I got from God and what I knew was right, the less important this became to me. Until years later, all I cared about was what made me feel good in the moment. All that mattered to me was "him." I was devoted to that relationship, and despised my marriage and all it was supposed to stand for.