Wisdom comes at a price

There couldn't be a more proud moment as a mom than witnessing my 20 year old daughter boldly take a stand against a potential sexual predator! We spent much of the day yesterday at the Olathe City Police department where my beautiful daughter and her roommate Emily reported an acquaintance who had truly "crossed the line." Since there are three separate individuals living in their town home, it comes at no surprise that they each have a branch of their own friends. Their roommate situation began with Nick as the lease holder and the girls did not feel led to speak up about Nicks friend, Caelin (a 19 yr old guy). Alex had expressed her frustration to me about Caelin's presence but mostly because he didn't pay rent, and would spend 3 days and nights at their home. I kept all my opinions to myself since Alex had just recently moved out and have realized she needs to find her own footing in this Big Cruel world. My only question I asked was if she had a lock on her door. She simply replied no, and while I encouraged her to get one, I left the topic alone. Alex called me Tuesday night asking for a potato casserole recipe. I should have found that question VERY odd, as Alex is a good cook and knows how to cook most things. Her shaken voice was obvious at the time, but I didn't press her once it became clear she couldn't talk at the time. As her mom, I've been trying very hard to mind my own business and let Alex find her way as well as I trust Alex has a pretty good head on her shoulders. My reply was to call me when she could talk, and I trusted her to do just that. Now that I know what I know, it was probably best the occurrence unfolded just the way it did, as you may be reading this post years from now after I am released from jail, maybe more. While I may chuckle when I say "I am thankful for my relationship with God, it saved a guys life yesterday", there is a bit of truth in my emotion to this statement. Those who know me best will understand my platform as a child safety advocate especially with the assaults that occurred during my childhood. I have ZERO tolerance for any type of sexual predator. Even as I type, I feel the blood boil within me for the many crimes that are committed to children around this world, as well as young women who are so very vulnerable and trusting. Nineteen year old Caelin is nothing but a punk who freeloads off friends and does not have a car or a job which is why he spends days at a time at the home which his best friend Nick, Alex and Emily live. On Tuesday, he was left alone in their home to ponder over his perverted thoughts of how to capture my daughter Alex on video. He meticulously cleaned their apartment along with Nicks bedroom as well as Emily's bedroom. (The first sign this lazy guy was up to no good) Alex was the first to arrive home and immediately noticed the house carried a "clean" scent. Caelin was excited to tell Alex all he had done when he inquired if she would be going upstairs to see how he had cleaned Nick's room. (who else finds this bizarre that a punk teen would clean another guys room?) While Alex has been living there for just a few short weeks, she did not deem any reason to distrust Caelin and missed the warning signs when Caelin exclaimed he was going to use the upstairs bathroom. (there is a bathroom on the main floor) Caelin wasn't gone long and Alex went on about her business. I can't help but chuckle as Alex tells me about how her OCD kicked in when she struggled to simply flush the toilet because things had been moved around on the back of the toilet. As she moved the tissue box, she was taken back that a cell phone sat propped against the wall on top of tissue paper that had been wedged between the top of the toilet cover and the wall that held the cell phone securely in it's position. She picked up the phone, turned it around, and realized the "record" button was activated and recording her. She was shocked, scared, and very confused as what to do. She immediately "deleted" the video, and called her room mates. Needless to say, the call I had received was soon after this happened and my daughter's shaken voice was the fear she was feeling since she was alone with this guy. (A sign I'LL never miss again) Alex did everything right according to the situation she was in as she tried to find a way to get out of it as safe as possible. She gathered her things, along with his phone, and left as soon as she could. Once she found safety with her room mate, they went through his phone discovering hundreds of photo's he had taken of women's personal area's. It was clear this guy had a serious issue and an issue our family is far too aware of. Enter the story of..... My best friend who has been married to a voyeur for 14 years too long. I remember vividly the day she called me and shared how she would "catch" her husband watching her in ways she wasn't comfortable. At first, I thought she was just being silly since she was his wife. However, even when she told him to stop....it didn't stop. After years of hearing of his perversions, I expressed the importance of her getting counsel or kicking him out before he acted out on her soon to be teenage daughter. She never went, she never left him, she only grew in her anger and hate towards him. Then the day came where she showed up unannounced of those very fears I had which had come true. Her husband lied of course, stating he was simply looking for a nail on the floor, not peeking under the bathroom door. Sure, she kicked him out, filed a police report, and sought counsel immediately. I offered to take her to the divorce court and get him out of her life for good. But, as unfortunate fate would have it, the police didn't even follow up on the report, and as many abused women will do, she moved him back in. The saga continues and this last spring he confessed to taking photo's of her and her now 16 year old daughter when they were unaware. Again, she kicked him out...again, I supported her and encouraged her as best I knew how without verbally slamming her husband and playing a role in her going back to him. This time he would only spend two months out of their house and she moved him back in but didn't tell me. I was beyond mad, and ended our 17 year friendship. Thankfully, I had been honest with all three of my girls about this voyeurism and what my friends husband had done to their daughter, their whole family and my girls have seen the hurt and pain this has caused my friends daughter. When I ended the friendship, I explained to my very surprised daughter's that I would no longer support or play a role to enable my friend who is enabling her husband. I was angry with her, and angry at what she has enabled to happen to her own daughter. My friend is oblivious....she believes it to be her duty to stay with her husband even though she hates him for what he has done. So imagine the sensitivity my daughter felt when she became the victim of such perverted voyeurism. She knows all to well how difficult it has been with my friends daughter who is friends with my girls. Therefore, I was very proud of my daughter for taking a stand that she can take by filing a police report on this young man for his perverted act. It's doubtful he'll suffer any serious legal consequences, but it does not denote the stand that she took and I am so very proud. May we NEVER minimize the acts that we as a society may deem trivial. I've heard it ALL because of my friends life and the life she continues to live in. Such as her husband hasn't actually "touched" her daughter. (not spoken by my friend, but by church going peers, 12 step programs, professional counselors, and even the police when they never followed up on my friends initial report. I say they are ignorant to the emotional effects this has had on SO many peoples lives) When situations such as this start with a young man who is 19, and we don't take action because it seems like a silly boy..and "boys will be boys", what happens when he gets away with it? Does he move on and act out even greater as he is empowered by the lack of legalities we have in place to protect innocent victims. Doesn't anyone ever wonder where it all began? could it have been prevented? It is NOT okay for any man to take photo's of women and there personal area's, or to video tape them in area's women expect privacy. My daughter may not have been physically touched in a perverted way, but the emotions she feels is the same as someone who has been. She feels fear, insecurity, and very violated of her personal space. I am so proud of Alexandra, for bridging a gap against voyeurs who justify their actions and compare themselves to others who are bigger perverts than they believe themselves to be. I thank God for her physical safety, and I know God will bless her for her bravery.

My oldest daughter Amanda married Jason Wright last summer, a wonderful guy whom we fell in love with ourselves right away. The wedding was beautiful, their love was beautiful, and the thought of our daughter now being in the loving care of this wonderful man was freeing to me as a mom.
Sure, I am still Amanda's mom, but she now belonged to another and all the work, love, patience, and mistakes I personally made in her life was now in the hands of another. To love, to cherish, to honor and respect, in good times and in bad, she belonged to Jason.

With this being said, our family began taking on it's new form as Amanda and Jason would come on weekends to have dinner with us, and I began doing my son-in-laws hair on a regular basis. It's been great having them over, together as a married couple. Our family dynamics was met with lots of laughter as we reminisced childhood memories each of the girls have had. Some of them seemed so trying during the times we went through them, and now we were laughing about the hardest times I had as a mom in their lives. "It's all been worth it, to have moments just like these" were my thoughts.
Within months after they married, Amanda zipped over early one morning to share a test she had just taken. I blinked in disbelief as I saw two pink lines on the pregnancy test she had just taken. I couldn't believe my eyes, and we all began giggling and laughing at what was to come. A baby!!!! My first grandbaby!!! I was so excited for Amanda and Jason...and for ME!!! yipee!!!!, I have had "grandma fever" for years.

As with everyone, we all absorb our circumstance with some reflection of our own life and the upbringing we've had. For me to be a mom who was going to witness my first grandchild was a blessing to say the least.
Oh how I wished my mom had been able to be by my side when I was pregnant with each of my girls, I knew God was so great for allowing me an opportunity to be there with my first born now that she was expecting her first born.
Who knew we would be facing a sad ending to this wonderful exciting news? Or is it a sad ending in reality? We as humans can only see "one side"...our side.
As my daughter continues to mourn her loss, she is able to only see her side and I so sympathize with her pain and the sorrow she has experienced.

From my side, I was unable to protect her from this painful experience. I stood there, helpless in the small darkened room as the sonogram woman searched for the babies heartbeat. "I'm sorry," was all the woman uttered as she dialed for a back up Doctor on duty to ease the inevitable, a miscarried pregnancy. My heart sank as tears flowed down my precious daughter's face until she burrowed into the one she belonged to, Jason. I fought back my own tears as I stood in disbelief of the empty words that woman just spoke moments before.
Just two days prior, we opened gifts on Christmas day showering Amanda with maternity clothes to begin her pregnancy and the bump that would soon follow. Two days ago we were laughing and carrying on with wonderful festivities and excitement of my grandchild's gifts that would be under the tree the following Christmas.
I personally was in denial as Amanda looked fine, felt fine, and I nearly convinced myself the lady was "Wrong" and somehow missed seeing the heartbeat. My heart did not know how to absorb this news, and I didn't have much time to process it myself as I was scheduled for major surgery the following day.
Oh my precious daughter who had just heard hours prior the sad news of her pregnancy, was right there by my bedside when I was brought to my room to recover. Strong and steady she seemed as she stood by me in support of the full hysterectomy I had just gone through. All while she was going through her own heart breaking moment. I was proud of her, and her strength, and the bond of love we have in our family.
While none of it may make sense in this moment, I know how awesome God is when He reveals His greatness amidst all of our life encounters. I long to share that moment with Amanda when He unveils His wonders, and see the good that can come from our most painful experiences.

When people ask Why?

I thank God for my experiences, for the strength He has given me to face the many trials I have faced and the ability to forgive those who have hurt me. I thank God for all the stepping stones that have led me to be the mom I am. I thank God for my husband who has worked hard along with me and help parent and guide our daughters along this journey. It hasn't been easy, but our unity has helped soften the tough times.

God never intended for me to carry this weight, and the burdens that come with that weight. I confess, I have faced weak moments where I am tired of being "strong", but then I remember God promised to be the strength for me. God meant for me to give all my cares and worries to Him, so that I may live a life of "True freedom" from the gunk that collects and clutters up my heart if I fail to do so.

Watching the fruit of our hard work through our daughter's lives has inspired me and given me hope to press on. We have faced many many criticisms from other parents who believed our parenting was "too firm", "too strict", "unreasonable",and even "old fashioned".
Our girls, and their lives are proof that this is not the case. I never expected my children to jump through hoops when we forbid them from having cell phones until they were in high school, or prevented the younger two from having text messaging on their phones until they graduated high school. We didn't expect them to pat us on the backs in support of the "double dating only" rule, or when we didn't take them down to the DMV to pick up their drivers license the minute they turned 16.
No, we reminded our daughter's how we, as their parents we're accountable to God for our decisions in raising them and the guidance we offered to them. My prayer is our girls will continue to recognize the wisdom they've seen from the guidance we have provided them and feel the hope attached to it for their lives in the future. Our way isn't the "right" way, but our heart to serve God and parent our children the way we believe God intended provides an example for our children and an understanding that we have an obedience to God no matter our age or our position. Our purpose and it's reflection is, was, and will always be to guide them. In the end, it's God whom we will all stand before and give an account.

A Beautiful portrait

My beautiful Mother. 

While looking through pictures to scrapbook my daughter's life, I came across pictures of my family.  I have very few pictures of my mom, and am always seeking to connect any way I can to her.  If anyone has pictures of her, I would love to have copies.  Or, any pictures of my childhood.  The few pictures I have of me were before my mom passed away.  Then there just isn't much of anything.

     As I scrapbook my childrens lives, I've come to discover the downside of having my girls so young in my life as there are so few baby pictures I have of them.  However, I realize now why photographs and scrapbooking is so very important to me.  It's all you have when you lose someone so important, and you want to remember and feel what your worth was to someone such as my mom.

I restored this picture as best I could trying to capture my mother's beauty hidden by water marks on the original copy.  Although I am far from a professional, I sure did enjoy every detail of her beautiful face while touching it up.

Here is the "before" picture.

As always, thank you for visiting and sharing in this journey.



I have purpose

     When I decided to blog exerts of my life, I knew it was going to be a tough journey.  My motive was to paint as clear a picture as possible challenging myself to face it all head on, without fear.  Of course the journal entries of my life take me back in time, and it's not as easy as I thought it would be.   I struggle to paint vivid pictures with each entry, as some of these entries just need to "get out" so I can "get on".

     My mother's day entry has been my most difficult to write.  So many emotions surfaced, and although I recognized a lot of them, some I didn't know I had, and some I had to immediately surrender to God once the entry was finished.  I am committed to see this through even if I'm faced with reliving those hurtful times and places in my life.
I thank God for the strength to face my darkest days.  Thankfully I know how my story unfolds or I don't believe I would ever be able to face such pain.

Family Blessings

I take this time to breath in the smell of briquettes as my husband lights the grill for dinner.  What a wonderful beginning to the aroma that is to follow as the marinated meat permeates our home.  The sun is shining, the temperature is a bit warm, and all of my children have gathered to be with us on this day.  If I could bottle up these moments and place them in pretty snow globes I would have quite a marvelous collection.
For every grieving moment, I have ten fold of wonderful memories with each of my girls as well as my husband.
Today we sat down to watch The Chronicles of Narnia "The voyage of the dawn treader."  A wonderful movie depicting a journey of young children as they grow into adults while they follow the leadership of Aslan who represents Christ.  My favorite of the series to date.  My journey could be summed up with this movie as it's example.
Once the movie is over, dinner begins as do the many jokes we toss back and forth one to another.  My girls are free to express themselves, be themselves, yet represent themselves respectfully while having fun.  I couldn't be more proud, more thankful than I am right now for the beautiful ladies they have become.

I chuckle as I watch Amanda and Jason compete over a cell phone game, recognizing that competitive side in me when it comes to games with Michael.  (A silly yet proud tear fills my eye...j/k)  Their marriage reminds me of my own as I witness their love and silly antics between one another.  I'm so happy Amanda is happy, and happy Michael has a son.  Jason may not be a jack of all trades, yet he is good to my daughter, and a fun son to have in our family.  We love that they love each other, and it shows every time we're around them.

Alexandra brings such laughter and silliness to our family with her quick whit.  She holds her head high with her recent break up from a long time boyfriend.  What an honor to hear her "thank me" when I encourage some of the steps she takes through this painful process.  What a privilege to sense her trust in my words of advice learned from my own heart breaking experience.   There is never a boring moment with her around and I look forward to unfolding life.

Alicia is my reminder of innocence and purity in so many ways.  When she feels frustrated over her innocence, I gently remind her what a wonderful blessing she has that most girls her age have unfortunately lost.  This isn't meant in one specific way, but the innocence from the gunk in this world.  Things our children really don't need to know at this point.  How wonderful to watch her enjoy her childhood, embrace her innocence.  While stubborn at heart, Alicia has yet to defy our rules.  She is most determined to be different from others, and I admire her strength in this.

Since I met Michael, I knew we had a strong and unique bond.  He's been more than my best friend, he has been my gift from God.  Sure, we married very young, but what a blessing it was to grow up with my best friend and my husband.  We talk about everything, hold back nothing, and help hold one another up through every trial.  If I should place him too high on a pedestal, God is sure to smack me back into reality of who my God really is, and he's not my husband.  All the same, I am most thankful for our marriage, the life and love we have built between us.

God is so good, and I am in awe of His Majesty.  He brings me to my knees when I survey the wonderful family I've been blessed with.

Ut oh, I smell something burning  : D   hehe

Mother's day

     No matter the depth of each story I post, I believe there are other's who relate in some form or fashion to my story.  My hope is each reader will not miss the foundational point as you take your precious time to read about my story.

     While most people know how much I love Christmas, no one knows how I wish Mother's day would fall off the calendar.  Many may spend the day reflecting and praising their moms for her love and care, I however, tend to spend the day at war in my mind for how I failed my own mother..........

     Within months of my return to Nebraska, I had fallen in with the wrong crowd and had made some bad decisions by skipping school.  The state stepped in, taking me from my dad, and sent me to live in a foster home.  The thought of living with a "real family" was somewhat of a welcomed one.  A father AND a mother, along with two younger foster siblings was all I had hoped for regardless of the biological attachment I didn't have.    Therefore, to give this family a fair shot and desiring to feel loved and wanted for once in my life, I called Sharon and Charles "mom and dad."  The word "mom" had never been uttered from my lips that I recalled, yet I so longed to fit in with this family.
     Anyone who knew this family knew they were as "country bumpkin" as they come.  Charles was very tall and somewhat heavy with an enormous over bite, with a 'Ronald McDonald' hair and face.  Sharon, while short and extremely heavy, had long brown hair and a beautiful talent of playing the piano and singing.  She was probably as close comparison to my birth mother as I have understood my mom played the piano and sang as well.  Addressing her as "mom" seemed to be the perfect title for Sharon.  Charles was a pastor at a small country church, and they both seemed to carry spiritual convictions that were solid.  I respected them immediately and was happy to be living with them.  My happiness would experience a curve ball within months.   Charles and Sharon surprised me and my boyfriend one night with wine coolers.   The understanding was acceptable since I was fifteen years old yet under their care and their supervision made it acceptable.   Of course, I thought this "very cool" of them too and I drank them all up.  .
     Soon after, confusing flags flew my way when Sharon began speaking to me on rare occasions, or when she did, she communicated with sharp tones and a hostile attitude.  During my brief stay, Charles would confess he had inappropriate feelings toward me.  Sharon must have sensed something was wrong as she exerted hate towards me.  I was confused, heartbroken, and trapped yet again with no way out.
       My heart didn't break over Charles perverted thoughts or his sick attraction to me. Heck, that seemed to come with every pervert I crossed paths with.  Whether at age five by a stranger, age seven by an alcoholic uncle, even age thirteen by a Decon at a Baptist church I attended, or even in the care of what was suppose to be a safe and Religious foster home, there simply was no place sacred or safe.
     My heart broke from Sharon's reaction to this truthful exposure of her husband once all was disclosed it in a counseling session.  She had quite a defense for their behavior when buying me wine coolers, for Charles exposing me to pornography for the first time in my life, and for all his warped and inappropriate attractions as well as behaviors he had towards me.  This woman, whom I called "mom" managed to shift blame towards me as though I assumed some sort of responsibility for all this.

Life would moved on, and I wouldn't face this again until I was mid way through my 20's, married, and had daughters of my own.   The truth of this matter is no one believed me, nor believed a pastor could 'fall from grace' and no one believed he would cause so much pain to so many.  No one came to my defense, nor did anyone "stand up" in my honor.  I was deemed a juvenile delinquent, and all was swept "under the rug" so to speak.
     I lived my early adult life believing I must have played some role in Charles struggles;  I've lived my life making excuses for Charles, for his human perverted flaws;  I've lived my life keeping this story quiet as I bore shame for another man's sin.  Then, eventually I'd come to realize "it's okay", "I'm okay", "I did nothing wrong."   While peace filled up the empty void from this one scar, the ugliest scar yet was about to surface.  How I missed this scar was uncertain to me at the time.  This scar spelled "MOM".   One simple word, a word so difficult for me to ever speak, and the only person I've spoken this name to was Sharon. (despite the fact I called my birth mother mom, I have no memory of that)   My safe escape of sexual abuse was in the arms of my mother's memory and the safety she would have provided.  Now, I have trampled on that memory because I offered up HER title to another woman.  How stupid could I have been?  I knew better than to trust any woman as if any could ever hold a torch to my mother, and here I jumped right into this brutal trap.  A trap so big, so deep, I'm living out it's healing to this day.  "Mother's day" is a poke at my chest as I let my mother down and I don't get a day to make it up to her.

Even though this is a heavy story, I spend so much thought time shoveling positive pie down my throat to make up for the negative truths I've shared.  My greatest scar is one I believe God has kept safe for a time where I would see it, and a time in my life where God would be visible enough to me for me to surrender it to Him.  I am accountable to God alone, not to any man who chooses to pick apart how they think I should be or what they think I should or shouldn't say.  I believe I've dealt with the scars of my childhood pretty well.  What I struggle to deal with to this day are fresh wounds caused by criticisms from others.  You don't have to walk a block, or a mile in my shoes, but for goodness sake, stop criticizing me.  I carry enough burdens to weigh down a village.  And, while I work at surrendering every emotional scar I bear to the Great Healer, my life would be a more pleasant one with a lot more support, and a lot less criticism.  Having experienced a sad childhood is not unique to any other persons pain.  We're all broken in one form or another.  My life is not for you to judge the process of my healing, how I heal, or if I heal.  Your life is equally not for me to do the same.  The difference may be, I'm willing to put my life out there and the pains I've lived.  Our pain is still the same, and, we don't have to pour gasoline on anyone's wounds with criticism.

My wish for this Mother's day isn't a nice meal made by another, or a pretty card in celebration, or even a beautiful present that cost someone hard earned money.  My wish is for another person to experience freedom from pains we've all felt, whatever that may mean to you.
For my mom on this mother's day, I am truly sorry I gave another woman your name. 
John 15:12-19