Watching Notre Dame burn yesterday, I felt as though something of myself was being consumed. One year ago to the day, my husband and I were walking through this majestic cathedral, drinking in this masterpeice of faith and devotion, home to thousands of lovingly created works of art; a testimony to the devotion of generations and centuries of people. The destruction of so much beauty, history, and value brought me to tears. After spending the day in morose reflection, I have again found my faith. I see the images of smoke rising like incense as a prayer; a sacrifice, a reminder. Everything on this earth is fragile. No matter how beautiful, no matter how much human blood, sweat, and tears have been invested, everything on this Earth was made to die.
I also watched this church video yesterday about a man who backed up his truck and accidentally killed his nine year old son. The senseless and terrible loss of this child seemed to mirror the loss of Notre Dame, with obvious differences, of course. Still, whether a cathedral, a child, or even civic virtues like civility and honest; all loss feels the same. The sense of incredulity, the desperate wish to make it different, to change what is, to repair and restore what once was.
But eventually we must accept the reality; nothing in this world will last. Every creation that exists is temporary and fallen.
This week is a celebration of our Savior’s death and resurrection. We could not have the resurrection without the crucifixion. The horror and evil of the one makes the other the more glorious and transcendent. The longer I live, the more the resurrection means to me. I testified to my boys about the resurrection on Sunday and they just looked at me like, “What’s the big deal?” To me, it is everything.
The world considers anxiety and depression to be abnormalities; the result of a pathology. I consider them to be the natural state of a rational mind that is conscious of the fallen state we are in. Consider the sorrow! I have a good life with much joy and happiness, but I have lost two friends to untimely death in the last few years. I have a good friend who lost a sister to cancer a year ago. This same friend has lost a couple of sister-in-laws to cancer. All of these people were young mothers and fathers with families. I have a friend from college whose twin sons died hours after birth. My parents will likely pass away in the next fifteen years. Ben’s dad died of cancer a couple of years ago. Each time I read the news, see the images of suffering around the world, contemplate on the vast capacity of mankind to commit atrocity upon his fellow creatures; the despair within me grows. Of course it does! How could it not?
Perhaps that is why the song, “I am the Resurrection and the Life” in our MCO concert last weekend hit me with such force. I had never heard the Rob Gardner arrangement before, but the words combined with the inspired music seemed to resonate within my heart strings like the bow on a violin.
25 Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live:
John 11:25
Each day that I live in this fallen world, I have to keep that hope before me. It is more than a good feeling; it keeps me alive. It is the only way I can bare the thought of living in this world another day. Satan did his worst to Jesus Christ. He combined all his cunning and all his evil; all his power and all his might. Like the fire that burned through the cathedral, there was nothing left when he was finished. There was the shell of a man that once gave life and light to everyone he made contact with. He was dead. Murdered. He was innocent and pure, and yet they killed him. They had won.
Then in three days, he rose again. He conquered death and sin! Not only that, he promised that all that believe on him will also live. Though Satan’s power rages against us. Though evil and darkness gathers like the cloud above Notre Dame. Though the fires of evil, lies, and contention rip through our national fabric destroying so much of value; yet He is Mighty to Save! He can restore! He can bring back what was lost. It is this faith that brings me out of the depths of despair.
For this nation, for this world, I hold the torch of faith and hope aloft. He is the way, the truth, and the life. All those who own him Lord and come unto Him will survive the evil day. There is no man, woman, or child who is shut out from his tender mercies. This is my faith. This is my testimony, born from the flames of Notre Dame.
Silence…… It’s a little weird when you are used to four kids and a dog pulling at you on Saturday morning. I’m at a hotel in Allen getting ready for my concert tonight.
Last night the energy at dress rehearsal seemed especially potent. At one point, the youth choir sang a moving arrangement of a song I had never heard before. It was pure and radiant testimony of the Savior with the lyrics taken straight from scripture.
My eyes honed in on the face of one beautiful young girl with dusky skin and full lips, her long dark hair swept back into a casual updo. I imagined that earlier that day she had been sitting in a high school classroom with other kids, nothing special about her. Her eyes were intent on her conductor, and her face seemed transformed. She was an angel delivering a scriptural message to me.
Most of the time we take medication via pill. It takes a while, but it works. We usually read the scriptures for spiritual knowledge and nurturing. Sometimes the words are pretty meaningless at first, but eventually they work. If you want interveneous injection of spiritual power, you need music.
The power of the music we sang last night defies easy description. In this world of cynicism and doubt, conflict and cruelty, confusion and darkness, music is an underrated tool.
By small and simple things the Lord bringeth to pass that which is great. His wisdom is foolishness and confounds the wise. Music is the vehicle of the spirit; the language of the angels. It can heal the world. It can dissolve bitterness in the soul. It can cleanse the broken heart.
Come unto Him! Ye that are heavy laden! Ye shall find rest unto your souls. Come all ye children of the Most High and sing his praises from the top of the mountain for He is Mighty to Save! MIGHTY TO SAVE!
Saturday night the big boys and Ben went to the Priesthood session of conference. We had managed to watch both sessions of conference earlier that day, so by the time they left the church with their dad, they had watched six hours worth of sermons. They eared their dinner at Red Robin!! Layne looked at me and said, “Tomorrow is Sunday AGAIN isn’t it?” By that he meant, “General Conference is a marathon and it isn’t even half over. We have another day of church.” I looked at him sympathetically and replied, “At least there are only four hours tomorrow.”
He looked dazed for a moment and said, “I don’t know if I will survive.” I love Layne! He has this way of being hysterically unintentionally funny. We did survive conference. Devin shared pictures of the new temple in Rome with his girlfriend who is Muslim. (Devin tells me they are just friends) He has been answering her questions about our church. She was appropriately impressed with the intensity of our worship. She gets it since her faith is the one with Ramadan.
Between the dog, the toddler, and the teenager, I didn’t get a whole lot out of conference. There were a lot of times when I would sit down to listen, hear a phrase like, “We must remember to always…..” interrupted with a scream followed by, “That’s cheating!” After breaking up the conflict, I would sit down again and hear, “The gospel plan of happiness can help us….” just as Austin would decide the dog wanted to slide down the back of the sofa. “Momma, she LIKES it!”
Between the scuffles and distractions, I did hear a few things. My overall impression of this conference and the last one is that there is a tone of urgency and intensity. Gone are the days of laid back talks full of reminiscing. The leaders of our church are saying things like, “We are at war,” “I plead with you to repent,” and “time is running out.” After a glance at the daily headlines, I see exactly why.
Whether you get your news from the right and believe that there is vast conspiracy involving Hillary Clinton, the FBI, and former President Barak Obama to invalidate the 2016 election (groaning inwardly)–or you take the more mainstream media narrative, that Russia, China, and their allies are succeeding in creating division and chaos through targeted online propaganda campaigns supporting dangerous candidates and extreme policies, resulting in the election of our most divisive and mercurial president in modern history. Regardless of your perspective, the investigators are investigating, the investigations are being concealed, the investigators are being investigated, the lawyers are scheming, the misinformation is flowing, the civility is draining from our body politic like a dead deer carcass. Upon that we should all be able to agree. We are teetering on the edge of an abyss. Isn’t it time that Christians remember the being that we worship?
Jesus Christ was not a political leader. He did not seek to take from the wealthy to enrich the masses. He didn’t need their money. He took a loaf of bread and fed five thousand. Do you think that your social welfare programs and bureaucratic behemoths can compete with his miraculous power to save and provide? If he were partnered with you, then perhaps these programs would be capable of benefiting society, but without Him, you are building a Tower of Babel. You will not succeed. There is no compassionate, prosperous future in secularism, humanism, and socialism. It is a dry and withered reed compared to the firm and green stem of Jesse. The left must find the Savior.
On the left there is too much outrage and too little faith. The white male is elevated to Godlike status. He is seen as all powerful; both to blame for everything and simultaneously capable of fixing everything. He is seen as selfishly withholding the resources of society within a culture of white privilege. Although this perspective has some truth to it, it is fundamentally flawed. There is one God, and he is no respecter of persons. He is the source of all good things. Only through obeying his commandments can one secure the blessings of liberty and prosperity upon their descendants. He is the source of salvation, not the white male. Even the multicultural collection of citizens with honorable intentions and vast resources pales in comparison to His might. It is only through Him that we will find the way through this web of evil we are in.
Now to my friends on the right, a message of repentance. It is not too late. It is still possible to open your eyes to the destruction before us. You have trusted in the arm of flesh. Your fear blinded you to the scriptural and historical fact that when the wicked rule, the people mourn. You decided to vote for a man who has shown over and over again through his own words, the words of journalists, the words of confidants and friends, that he is a liar, an adulterer, and a bully. He lacks the qualities of the Master, and yet many who claim the title of Christians laud him and claim divine sanction upon his rule. He turns his back on the weak and the oppressed and causes his people to do so as well. It is time to turn away from this evil. Whatever your reasons for supporting Trump in 2016, there is another election in 2020 and another opportunity to choose a righteous leader who can thwart Satan’s designs and deliver us from the evil day. We should all exert our best efforts to find such a leader to vote for in 2020.
It is politically unpopular to stand on principle. Power is measured as a finite resource to be hoarded and defended at all cost by the puny men who wield it. The trends of public favor are scented and discerned by political pundits stylizing themselves as oracles divining the future. Let us be like Daniel of olden days and cast aside the heathen’s ways. Is there not a God in Israel that can protect us from the maw of the lion? How so, if we cast him out of our voting decisions? Have faith! Through small and simple things, the Lord bringeth to pass that which is great! Let us stand upon principle, let us open our hearts to the poor beggars at our southern border and around the world who come to us for asylum. The Master would not have us turn them away. He will multiply our efforts and our country will be better for it.
Our President insultingly referred to certain countries as “shithole countries.” In his mind, bringing people in from these countries is a terrible idea. As a gardener, I can see the value of shit. (Please pardon the language.) Manure, as I prefer to call it, is fertile and can produce incredible results when added to soil. As a gardener, I seek out manure, and add it to my soil to restore vitality and fertility to stagnant low producing garden beds. America has traditionally accepted the dross of humanity from the darkest places in the world and found them to be worthy countrymen, even a blessing to us. Saying, as our President so unwisely did, that our country is full is not only untrue, it is incredibly calloused. Shutting our doors to immigrants at a time when the number of displaced persons is at the highest point in sixty years, is as cruel as it is stupid. To give such policies divine sanction is blaspheme.
And now I leave the subject of politics. Maybe I won’t write about it ever again. That would be a relief for some, I’m sure! This is a time of extraordinary anxiety for me. I find my mind racing as I try to go to sleep. Even my sleeping pill seems to have little effect anymore. I suppose it is natural to be afraid when you are standing at the doors of Armegeddon. This is it. The last days of the last days. Tough times are ahead, so I choose to live in today.
My little Pepper sits calmly in my lap fast asleep. Her warm body sends calming waves over my mind. The warm sunshine heats the soil of my flower beds. The pungent smells of fertilizer and fresh cut grass fill my nose. I feel the tender embrace of my little boy. For today, for this moment, I am at peace. I am happy. The people I love are safe, and all is well.
The future is the hands of my God who is mighty to save! He will not leave me comfortless in the days of my affliction. He knows in whom I have trusted. I fear not the power of the wicked in high places, for he is above them all. Though times of trouble are upon us, even at the doors; I will not fear, for He is by my side.
I wrote a post yesterday that was pretty good, but I worried that it would send an unintended hurtful message to some readers, so I’m going to think more on it. See, I actually do have a filter! Sometimes. I really do care about people’s feelings, and if at all possible, I want to say what I have to say without causing pain.
Yesterday I was frantically searching the internet for everything I could find about dogs and chocolate poisoning. Pepper got into a package of Swiss chocolate cake rolls and threw our chaotic home into a whirlwind of phone calls, internet searches, and panic. Half a package of cake rolls, a $65 pet poison hotline call, and a good night’s sleep later, and Pepper is none the worse for wear. She only weighed in Tuesday at 2.5 pounds, so we have to be super careful about what she eats. It wouldn’t take much to kill her.
This is Pepper this morning eating dog food mixed with tuna. Much better than Swiss Rolls…….
As I was searching, I came across an article with a fearsome dog with hackles razed, barely contained by a muzzle. It was a jarring image with the title, Ten Most Aggressive Dog Breeds; ten meanest dogs. I clicked on the link and was surprised to see number one on the list was……the Chihuahua. Yes, the smallest dog in the world is, according to this article, the meanest, most aggressive, most dangerous dog in the world. I can only assume that size is not considered a factor because I hardly think an eight pound chihuahua is as dangerous as a 70 pound Doberman Pinscher. Still, the article gave me a moment’s pause. Consider the picture they have. If looks could kill!
I thought when I adopted Pepper that was was getting a sweet, calm, docile animal. She was. But now she is growing up, and she is finding her mean Chihuahua side. Seriously, I have probably twenty tiny puncture marks on my hands where she has bitten them. Some of this biting is typical puppy teething, but sometimes it isn’t. I get the distinct impression that this dog wants to be large and in charge. She has a thirst to dominate me.
For anyone who is concerned that I have a three year old at home with this fearsome beast, let me put your mind at ease. She bites me and Wesley mostly. Wesley is nine, and although this is not cool, he is not in danger. Austin and Pepper have a strange relationship. Austin loves Pepper. Pepper fulfills the need of all little people to find something smaller than them to boss incessantly. Austin is constantly issuing commands to Pepper, and when she does not obey, Austin picks her up under her front paws with her back legs hanging pathetically. It is usually at this moment that she turns her liquid black eyes on me silently pleading with me to take her away from her tormentor. Still, she does not bite or act aggressively toward him. I’m not sure why this is. Sometimes she has had enough from him and she will growl at him. At those times I tell him to back off. Austin is not the slightest bit frightened of her. Maybe that is why she doesn’t bite him. She senses no fear in him. Anyway, she is wise not to hurt my baby…..that would not end well.
Back to the aggressive dog list. Number two on the list is…..the Daschund. So, as some of you know, Pepper is a mix of uncertain parentage, but she is mostly a Chihuahua/Daschund mix. So yeah. I have the most aggressive, dangerous dog in the neighborhood. Don’t mess with me!!
She is a natural hunter. She has hunted down and killed probably close to ten June bugs on the back patio. She loves it when she finds the occasional mosquito eater that floats into the house. Insects fear her. Beware the tiny dog!
We are settling into our role as a puppy family. She is very good at following her sit command. She can sit, stay, jump and do combinations of those things, but we have had a few struggles which might warrant a round of dog training classes at Petco. With such a dangerous and aggressive dog breed, we can’t be too careful. I might have to get a ferret sized muzzle…… With animals living in the house that want to rule the roost, parenting can be difficult. Which brings me to my teenager.
He decided some time ago that it wasn’t worth it to do his chores which he earns a modest allowance for. His room became so messy, I couldn’t walk around in it. That’s a problem for me, because his room is also Austin’s room. Eventually I cleaned it for him, thinking that perhaps he just needed a fresh start. Nope. It is getting to be just as bad as it was before.
Eventually, Ben and I realized that this situation could not continue. We started issuing consequences. Every morning Ben gives the boys a ride to school. Now those rides are conditional on whether or not chores were completed the day before. Our other boys have responded well, buckled down and started doing their chores. Our oldest has procrastinated, whined, made excuses, and moped. It is now two hours into school, and he still hasn’t left the house. This is the second day this week that he has pulled this crap. When he asked me this morning if I would take him to school if he got his chores done, I told him I would drive him to Coal Creek, which is on my way to the preschool, and that he would have to walk from there. “What motivation do I have to do my chores then?”
I thought for a second and then answered, “That’s actually a very good question. What is your motivation? What kind of person do you want to be? Someone who respects your mother and completes his responsibilities? That is the question you need ask yourself.”
Between the dog, the toddler, and the teenager, I have a lot of things draining my energy. Good news is, I’m handling it. I’ve been painting a lot; portraits mostly, but also some flowers. Everyone is alive. Hopefully everyone is learning and growing to become the creatures God created us to be. Whether that is the most aggressive, dangerous, tiny dog on the planet, or the most stubborn teenager ever, or the strongest, wisest Mom on Crystal Brook Ct.
“For Wakanda? Without question.” The steely eyes of Okoye exude resolve as she delivers that line. It sends goosebumps down my spine just remembering it. Black Panther is a fabulous movie for many reasons, but the character of Okoye is so well done that even in this film, she stands out. In this moment she is asked if she would be willing to destroy the man she loves for her country. She shows the depth of her loyalty and her commitment to duty in her unflinching response.
I love my country. People wave the flag and proclaim love of country, but my intuition has told me that no one I have ever met loves America like I do. I have seen glimmers of it in men like John McCain and George Washington, but I have never personally met anyone with the depth of feeling that I have for my nation. It is more than a fondness. More than a respect. More than an admiration. It is LOVE!! Born of gratitude, compassion, and vision; it is indestructible as diamond. It is tenacious, it is fierce, it births courage and valor.
Some mothers of boys try to dissuade their sons from joining the military and going to war. As much as I love my boys, I would not hesitate to sacrifice them for my country. I’ve given my entire life, sacrificed everything including my mental health, to raise my four boys to be the best men they can be. Still, some things are worth the ultimate sacrifice. “For Wakanda? Without question.” Nothing would make me more proud than to have my sons serve their country and mine, to safeguard the freedoms that I have benefited from all my life. If anything that I have or anything that I might have in the future would serve my nation, I would offer it freely.
Some may say that my nation does not deserve this kind of love. This love is not about America, it is about me. Great nations don’t make great people; history has shown this ad nauseum. Great people build great nations. Great people have great love.
Last night I couldn’t sleep. Plagued by anxiety kept checking the news for the release of the full Mueller report. There are two things that fueled my anxiety to a fever pitch. One is the stark divisions I see. Over fifty percent of American’s believe the Trump campaign colluded with Russia even after the Attorney General released a summary clearing the President of collusion.
On Twitter I have seen four groups of people. First, most establishment Republicans and legal minds have accepted General Barr as his word. There was no collusion and they are ready to move on. Second, most Democrats and intelligence experts are reserving judgement until the report is released. I fall into this category. Third, many are being led by the President himself to claim complete exoneration and revenge upon those who started the investigation. Fourth, many are angry at what they see as a blatant cover-up, obstruction of justice, and treason that is being swept under the rug.
All four of these groups are looking toward the 2020 election as the only certain way to settle the matter of Donald Trump’s unfitness for office. Again, we are looking the Democrats. Only trouble is, the polls are showing that most Democrats don’t even really care about Mueller, collusion, or obstruction of justice. They care about health care. Health care.
This makes me so angry I could shoot fire from my eyeballs. I am going to be very direct right now to my friends on the left. YOU DON’T HAVE A RIGHT TO HEALTHCARE FROM THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT. In fact, you don’t have the right to an education, a job, a safety net, a pension from the federal government! You have to earn those things. A hundred years ago American’s understood that. We have created a country of lap dogs begging for scraps from the government banquet table. We are better than that! In the past your party could get away with being the party of handouts, but America needs more from you right now. You need to be the party of principle!
To my friends on the right, you don’t have the right to a supreme court that you agree with. You don’t have the right to force everybody else to come to heel just because you won a single Presidential election. You don’t have the right to force ANYONE to be loyal to this President. You don’t have the right to gaslight people by closing your eyes to the madness and blame everything on the Democrats, “who hate Trump.” That is unfair and you know it. Stop it!! Trump is an agent of chaos. He sows discord and contention everywhere he goes. He is not fit for office. If you don’t know that it is because you are uninformed. Period.
Now let me tell you what all American’s have a right to; right, left, and center, male and female, black and white, rich and poor.
First, we have a right to access to accurate information. Right now we have competing narratives that make no sense. Our free press is confused and reeling. They are being blocked from accessing the results of the Mueller investigation under the guise of national security. Our government is at war with itself, our media is at war with itself. No one can agree on anything because we are all swimming in a soup of lies and corruption. I have read two biographies of President Trump. I have studied him and read his Twitter feed. I’ve studied the man ever since he began his rise. He is first and foremost an agent of chaos and this is a time of unprecedented chaos. We have a right to access accurate information.
Second, we have a right to have leaders who are honest with us. Hyperbole, exaggeration, and flippant lying has become commonplace in our leaders. Our President lies to us daily about matters large and small. He has not been held accountable by his supporters. Their refusal to insist that Trump be honest with America is a violation of the rights of all Americans. We have the right to honest leaders.
Third, we have a right to equal treatment under the law. I am observing with increasing alarm that our justice system is not impartial. If a person has the money, they can hire not just one good lawyer, but teams of lawyers. Entire law firms operate more like mercenaries than agents of justice. They threaten, sue, bribe, and corrupt the system into allowing them to commit crimes with no fear of retribution. We have the right to equal enforcement of the laws.
If we, as Americans, choose to sell those rights for the mess of pottage, we will reap the consequences. I would rather die slowly of cancer without the money to treat it. I would rather watch my children die screaming, knowing that there was medication to save them that I can’t afford. I would rather all those things and more than to take healthcare from a government that deprives me of my rights to accurate information, honest leaders, and equal treatment under the law. We as Americans must demand more.
Please understand that my direct words are not meant as an attack on anyone. My love for my country compels me to speak out. Satan’s forces are gathering like storm clouds around us. It is time for us to awaken to the danger we are in and stand against the evils of our time. If we allow corruption and disinformation to become normalized, we will see our country fall. I can’t watch that happen without raising my voice even if it does little good.
Last night I visited with my therapist. It has been two weeks since I’ve seen her and I’ve done a lot of hard things. I adopted a new puppy into our home, I’ve been managing on a super tight budget, I’ve been dealing with teenager attitude, a waterlogged school laptop, and a sick child. All the while, I’ve been reading, painting, writing, spring cleaning and working on my marriage. I’ve had bad days, but I haven’t had any suicidal thoughts. Its been so long since I’ve had them, I can’t even remember when the last time was. I’m confronting difficulties instead of avoiding them. That’s huge.
Recovery from depression is a long and winding process. I’ve suffered from it for so long, I’ve learned to protect myself from the mood whiplash that comes when you have a good day. A good day doesn’t mean there aren’t a ton of bad days ahead. I’ve learned not to be too excited even though my depression has faded with the cold winter nights. Day after day and week after week I’ve noticed that I’m more motivated. I hold my head up, even when things go wrong.
This is Austin and Pepper at the park. Getting out of the house and spending time outside helps me manage my depression.
Even with the confusion created after the summary of the Mueller report that came out last week, I’ve managed to avoid a downward spiral. I evicted Donald Trump from my brain. I said, “Donald, you’re a real estate guy. You understand how this works. You haven’t paid your rent, and you can’t stay in my head anymore.” I haven’t missed him.
So in light of all the positive signs, I keep watching my therapist as session after session comes and goes and she is all smiles and encouragement. I double back and think, “Am I painting too rosy of a picture here?” Ben is there too, and he is all smiles too.
In fact, he is doing really well. He is taking a class online to teach himself new technical and programming skills. His boss loves him and he’s going to get a raise soon. He is managing conflicts and inspiring people everywhere he goes. In our marriage, we are learning to confront old resentments and trust each other enough to ask for what we need. Friday I was thinking about how much I love him and wanted to do something special for him.
He’s a tough cookie when it comes to showing him love. Often he refuses to show emotion, even when he is pleased. That makes it hard to know when I’ve hit the mark. I ask him what I can do to show him I love him, and he usually demurs. I thought about how I keep asking him to do projects like my swing chair in my room. I wanted him to hang it up that weekend, but his garage is a mess. It’s mostly me. I tend to run things a little messier than most people. I find tools and supplies spur my memory to complete tasks. If I put them away, I forget about the project. Sometimes I just forget to put stuff away when the project is finished. It’s an ADHD thing. Anyway, the garage was a labyrinth of gardening tools, paint, empty boxes, expired fertilizer, and kid’s bikes, trikes, and scooters.
Ben is the kind of guy who clears his desk at the end of each day. He keeps everything in its place including his shirts which he sorts carefully in the closet. It’s tough being married to someone who is constantly messing up your space. The garage is his place, and I’ve been messing it up and then asking him to work in it. That’s got to eat at him.
I decided I would surprise him. I cleaned the garage. I gathered up a huge lawn and garden bag full of trash. I threw away old boxes. I organized the gardening bins, and swept the floor. I organized old paint and put tools away. I was astounded at how much I was able to do even while watching Austin and Pepper. Austin ate in the driveway in his old highchair. He loved it! Exploring the junk in the garage was fun for him. Pepper spent a lot of the day in her play pen. It took me all day, but by the time I was finished, it wasn’t just clean, it was clean enough to pull the van into the garage. We’ve been in this house for almost three years and we’ve never parked the van in the garage.
Austin plays in the garage after I finished cleaning.
He was appropriately delighted when he came home and saw the surprise I had for him. He did manage to squeeze the van into the garage, but it is a tight fit. We still have a lot of work to do, things to sell, shelves to build, and bins to buy; but we are making good progress and I think my message of love was well received.
Ben helped me hang my swing chair in my room last Saturday. Behind the chair is my Mandala wall. I plan to do a post on designing, making, and displaying mandalas, but I haven’t writteppn it yet.
In my past depressive episodes, I’ve noticed that housework is one of the first things to be neglected. It is one of the last things to improve. When I start feeling better, I start organizing and purging. I start making my home into a place I like living in. I am well into that stage of my recovery, and that is worth celebrating!
Looking back on this depressive episode, it has been a crazy ride! I went to see my psychiatrist and told him I was struggling even after the increase he gave me in my meds. He suggested counselling. “Just a few sessions to help you find your voice,” he said. I put off making the appointment for months. I didn’t want to talk to a new person, but I didn’t want to drive up to Carrolton to see my old therapist. Finally, it got so bad that I was regularly having suicidal thoughts and I made the appointment. That was a year ago.
I’ve had intense therapy every week for almost a year. It has been five months since I started publicly sharing my journey, first on Facebook and then on my blog. I’ve learned so much about myself this time! I’m so glad I have chosen a path of healing for myself and my family. It has been excruciatingly hard sometimes, but the rewards have been amazing.
Ever since I started writing about my depression publicly, I’ve had people who have encouraged me and given me the guts to write again. I’ll never forget those people. I remember every hug, every text, every Facebook message, every post, every meal, every prayer sent up in my behalf. For every person who has seen the posts of my artwork and left some love, thank you. There are angels who walk this planet, and I am blessed to know quite a few! Even people who have hurt me have done so with the best of intentions. Not everyone understands depression, and sometimes that means that helping hands and well-meaning words hurt. That’s okay.
For anyone who is reading this that might be at the beginning of a depressive episode, or is in a close relationship with someone who is, there is hope! Suffering in silence, ignoring the pain, silencing people who try to point out the obvious, trying so hard to convince yourself that you don’t need help; just take the depression pill and/or, talk to the counselor. There is help! There is hope! You don’t need to live like this. It isn’t weakness or selfishness; it is strength and courage. You deserve more. Your family deserves more. They deserve a healthy you.
I finally feel like I’m becoming the person that my Savior created me to be; a fearless, creative, writer, artist, gardener, dog whisperer, loving mother, and fierce friend. I have value and purpose. I have a glorious future following my Master as he leads me to green pastures. May His blessings fall like a spring rain on each soul who has crossed paths with me! Happy trails.
I started this painting after my trip to Paris last spring. I was finally able to finish it a few weeks ago.
When I decided I wanted to paint this, I thought it was too hard for me. In spite of that, I tried anyway and its one of my favorite paintings!
I’ve never painted an animal before, so this was a challenge for me. This is our new dog Pepper.
As a child, I watched a lot of
cartoons. When I got a little older, I started asking a lot of questions for
which there were no satisfactory answers. Why were cats the good guys in some
movies and the bad guys in others? In American Tale, the mice were the
good guys and the cats were evil. In the Aristocats, the cats were good.
In the Secret of Nihm, the rats were the good guys. In Lady and the
Tramp, the rats were bad. It has taken me a long time-an embarrassingly
long time now that I think about it- to learn the truth. Most things in the
world are not good or bad, they just are.
Most children are just children,
most cats are just cats, most are just rats. Teachers, police officers,
politicians, businessmen; they are just people, not inherently good or
inherently bad. As the ever wise Obiwan Kenobi taught young Luke, “The
truths we cling to depend a great deal on our point of view.” Moral
characteristics are projected about by people and often reveal more about their
point of view than the people they judge.
So, what does all this have to do
with politics? I’ve been thinking a lot about the Democratic Party. This is a
big year for them. They will be choosing the path that will either lead to the
healing and stabilization of our country, or to further injury. Not being a
Democrat myself, I choose to watch from the sidelines and hope for the best. I
believe the best hope for the future of my country is that a moderate,
pragmatic Democrat will get the nomination and soundly defeat Trump.
On Twitter, I have come across many
progressives who have made tentative friendships with people like me who have a
conservative viewpoint, but oppose Trump. We have an uneasy alliance.
Sometimes, these people see Trump as an opportunity. He is an unpopular president
and what better way to get an extremist progressive into office than by running
an extremist against Donald Trump? They seek to capitalize on the division
Donald Trump has created to further their own agenda. They use the argument,
“If you don’t vote for our candidate, you will get Donald Trump for four
more years!” This argument didn’t work for me when people tried to use
Hillary Clinton to force me to vote for Trump and it won’t work in 2020 either.
People like me have tried to suggest
to our Democratic allies that a moderate centrist would be the safest option;
someone who will gain a broad coalition of support from the vast majority of
the country. This kind of President could do a lot to unify the country,
inspire trust in those manipulated by Trump, and re-establish some of the norms
that have been damaged by an authoritarian Presidential style that has battered
our republic for what will be four years. I could see myself voting for a
Democratic President and having much warmer feelings toward Democratic ideas
and policies in the long term if they took this path. In response to sharing
these thoughts, zealous progressive firebrands have responded, “Shut up!
You aren’t even in our party. You guys elected Donald Trump. Sit down.”
Sigh. So much for the enemy of my enemy…..
It is easy for people who lean left,
to see what we might call unrighteous dominion as the solution to unrighteous
dominion right now. There are many who distrust anyone with a conservative
perspective as ignorant, racist, greedy, or any number of other unsavory
things. The conservatives have similar biases against the left. That is part of
what got us into this mess in the first place. Like the cartoons I watched as a
child, the parties try to paint cats as bad, rats as good, and vice versa to
support their narratives. The truth is,
we are mostly just Americans.
A wise man I happened to have voted
for in 2016 reminded me of some of George Washington’s thoughts in his farewell address. I encourage all of my fellow
Americans to read this inspired speech. This section about “party
despotism” which we are seeing as extreme factions take over our two major
parties. They attempt to force informed voters to ignore the faults in their
candidates against their better judgments and insist upon “loyalty”
even when the office holder is incompetent or dangerous to everyone. This
spirit of party has badly infested the Republican Party under Donald Trump.
This spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from our nature, having its root in the strongest passions of the human mind. It exists under different shapes in all governments, more or less stifled, controlled, or repressed; but, in those of the popular form, it is seen in its greatest rankness, and is truly their worst enemy.
The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge, natural to party dissension, which in different ages and countries has perpetrated the most horrid enormities, is itself a frightful despotism. But this leads at length to a more formal and permanent despotism. The disorders and miseries which result gradually incline the minds of men to seek security and repose in the absolute power of an individual; and sooner or later the chief of some prevailing faction, more able or more fortunate than his competitors, turns this disposition to the purposes of his own elevation, on the ruins of public liberty.
George Washington’s Farewell Address
A few notes on this quote. First, he
uses the phrase, “popular form.” He is referring specifically to
populism. Populism is the kind of thing that we see when our leaders become
more like entertainers or celebrities than public servants. We saw some of that
with President Obama, but far more of it from Trump supporters. In my view,
Trump’s obvious flaws require a more slavish devotion; a willingness to close
one’s eyes to the facts under all circumstances lest you are tempted to find
fault and fall into disloyalty. Populism has become an infection in both
parties. One of the defining marks of populism is the dumbing down of the
discourse, the focus on simple ideas and slogans, the demonization of “the
top 3%,” foreign allies, foreign enemies, or racial or ethnic groups.
“The white male,” “the illegal immigrant,” “the
elites,” are all monikers given to dehumanize and scapegoat a segment of people. If someone else is to blame for our problems,
we can avoid painful introspection. Our leaders should seek to lead our nation
by informing the citizenry with factual information and persuasive arguments. A
quick perusal of Trump’s latest tweets and speeches shows none of this. Instead
we see a tendency to appeal to base instincts and reinforce simplistic
falsehoods. That is the mark of a populist.
Much is said online and in the media
about increasing voter turnout. This is a noble goal, but a far better one, in
my view, is to increase the number of informed voters. George Washington
emphasized in his address that an educated citizenry is essential to our
republic. This is less about historical facts or even scientific theory and
more about the ability to think critically about the issues and be able to
converse about them with opposing parties. This requires that we put our
identity as Americans over the various factions which make up the population.
It also assumes that we will speak respectfully and with restraint when we
converse with one another. This foundational element of civility in our
national politics may prove to be the most indispensable virtue of our time. It
is all but disappearing.
“The unity of government which constitutes you one people is also now dear to you……that you should cherish a cordial, habitual, and immovable attachment to it; accustoming yourselves to think and speak of it as of the palladium of your political safety and prosperity; watching for its preservation with jealous anxiety; discountenancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can in any event be abandoned; and indignantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link together the various parts.
For this you have every inducement of sympathy and interest. Citizens, by birth or choice, of a common country, that country has a right to concentrate your affections. The name of American, which belongs to you in your national capacity, must always exalt the just pride of patriotism more than any appellation derived from local discriminations. With slight shades of difference, you have the same religion, manners, habits, and political principles. You have in a common cause fought and triumphed together; the independence and liberty you possess are the work of joint counsels, and joint efforts of common dangers, sufferings, and successes.”
Washington’s Farewell Address
Washington had a unique love for and
commitment to the principles upon which our nation was founded. He had keen
vision and insight into the perils which would threaten us. This government was
founded on the idea that mankind could govern themselves, not be ruled by force
and coercion. That idea is at risk as never before as each party flirts with
and embraces coercion over persuasion, winning elections over winning trust,
and appealing to the basest elements in our citizenry. Last election we saw the
meddling of a hostile foreign government. This election, we must be on guard
against foreign influence, especially from nations like Russia and China who
seek to weaken our power on the global stage. Washington warned us about the
dangers of foreign influences.
One other thing is worth mentioning.
There is a drastic trend toward the marginalization of religion and religious
ideas in our modern world. Jung wrote about the tendency of science to give a
false sense of security and power to the human mind. We tend to think that we
know more than we do and we get into trouble. The fact is, we need God. Whether
or not we can prove his existence, we need him. As a culture, as a nation, as a
world, humankind needs God. Our psyche is as dependent on the idea of God as
our mortal body is on food; of this I have become convinced. George Washington
and most of the founders of our nation agreed.
Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of patriotism, who should labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. The mere politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connections with private and public felicity. Let it simply be asked: Where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are the instruments of investigation in courts of justice ? And let us with caution indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without religion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principle.
It is substantially true that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of popular government.
George Washington’s Farewell Address
The fact that a large portion of our
country’s religious leaders are ardent supporters of the President, who is
possibly the most morally corrupt man to ever hold the office, is ominous in
light of George Washington’s words. The wellbeing of our nation depends to a
large extent on our religious commitment to truth and righteousness. Our
unwillingness to hold our President to account for the damage he is doing to
our Republic will have lasting consequences.
I take comfort that many times in
our nation’s history, men and women have arisen to avert a disastrous course. There have been times of real trouble like
the Civil War, the rise of industrial titan tyrants, the threat of communism, and
two World Wars. More recently, there was
the attempt of Richard Nixon to weaponize the CIA and the FBI to be his
personal political henchmen. In these
times of great testing and trial, there have been heroes that have stood up,
spoken out, acted with integrity, marched at the battlefront, sacrificed more
than I could ever understand. There have
been countless self-interested masses that have lived and died, and they never
quite understand that all that they have is because of those few. I refuse to be one of those people. I may never be a hero, but I can recognize
heroism when I see it.
Bridget McCain spoke against Donald Trump in defense of her adopted father John McCain. She has been the target of both extreme left and right hatred over the years and has largely stayed out of the spotlight. Standing against the President and his army of internet trolls shows immense courage.
I see it in the faces of the leaders
of the FBI that Trump fired because they chose loyalty to the constitution and
the oath they swore over loyalty to a tyrant.
I see it in the Twitter feeds of the retired military and intelligence leaders
whose clearances have been revoked in retaliation for expressing their valid and
heartfelt concerns publicly. I see in
the steady and powerful resolve of women like Briget McCain who spoke truth to
power today. I’m sure her father is
proud. It isn’t easy to do the right
thing, but it always matters. No matter
what the sacrifice, doing the right thing is always worth it.
America may not deserve these heroes, but we have them, and
God be praised. His mercy and blessings pour down from the heavens like
rain upon the just and the unjust. He reaches out to us unworthy sinners
all the day long. Darkest night does not hold back his light from
us. In our dark moments, America, our God has not forsaken us. Let
us not forsake Him! Let us remember the God whom we made King when George
Washington refused the crown. The mighty shepherd! The meek and lowly
Lord! Him alone will I trust. Him alone will I swear loyalty to.
Blessed be his name!
This is Nicole Pepper. She will be officially our puppy on Monday!
I am totally in love. She is a six week old chiweenie mix, and she is my baby. We were never going to get a dog. They are messy, and a lot of work, and I don’t need more chores. Still, there has always been this nagging feeling that we need to have a pet. Every family has one! Still, we could never agree on what kind or how to get the money together for the initial investment. I knew that eventually we were probably going to get a dog.
When my friend from church ended up with a litter of puppies that needed homes, I was just going to go snuggle them. The more times I went over for puppy snuggles, the more the idea of taking one home appealed to me. Then I brought the kids. Ben was the hard sell. He didn’t want a dog. It would cramp our ability to take off on a plane whenever we wanted to.
Even his heart seemed to melt when he saw the puppies. We picked a little black puppy with tan eye brows, tummy and socks. We named her Pepper. Since we picked her out, we have had little play dates with Pepper. They started out as just a couple of hours at our house. Now they last several. She even was able to stay for Devin’s birthday party last night.
That brings me back to my whack-a-mole post. So I was racing home to finish Devin’s birthday party preparations, keep my boys from killing one another over a video game, and of course, snuggle my puppy. I walked in the door, and tried to comfort a distraught Layne.
Layne is twelve. He is a genius at math and science, an avid reader, a good student and a wonderful son, but he has not been easy to raise. Let me tell ya! Mentally, he is rigid, black and white, and very high strung. He struggles with anxiety and when he gets ramped up, I am about the only person that can help him down. This time, I didn’t have good news for him.
He had used his time limit for the Wii U and it was Devin’s turn. It was his birthday, and for that day only, he had unlimited time to play. He didn’t take it well. He shouted at me and then ran into my bedroom, presumably to calm himself down or prevent himself from acting aggressively and getting into trouble.
I went and got Pepper. I could feel the tension start to drip away. She licked my face and hands and snuggled into my lap. I grabbed some pizza and ate it ravenously. The anxiety masks my appetite so I didn’t realize how famished I was. Layne was crying and occasionally screaming from the other room.
We have had him in therapy for a couple of years, but we still struggle with temper tantrums. Electronics are especially problematic. They ramp up his anxiety and if he is on them for too long, he can’t handle his emotions. But, when you take them away, it is so devastating that he can’t deal with his disappointment, so he has a melt down. Timeouts sometimes work, but sometimes being by himself with nothing to do means that he ruminates on his feelings and they escalate. We no longer force him into timeout. He puts himself in timeout as a coping strategy. During Spring Break he has made ample use of timeouts to help him deal with being with his three brothers all day every day.
He has about four mental health diagnoses that we are working with. Layne is a unique combination of characteristics that makes treating him extremely complicated and difficult. He can be manipulative, but most of the time his distress is truly genuine. This time the timeout was not working. His volume was increasing. It seemed to come from everywhere as it echoed through the living room. Then there was a loud “thump.” He had escalated to throwing things. It was time to intervene.
When I approach Layne in his melt-downs, I have to tread carefully. I show no emotion. If I get angry and start scolding, he will escalate. I understand his state of mind, because I have been there so many times myself. The brain is bathed in cortisol and adrenaline. There is no rational higher level thoughts going on. He is defensive and ready to lash out, like a wounded animal. There is no instruction, no behavior modification at times like these. There is one goal. Calm him down. Then you can talk. Then you can reason. Then you can give consequences. But calming him down is the first priority. That takes precedence over everything else.
I had Pepper in my arms when I entered the room. I slowly approached Layne who was glaring at me angrily. To him, I was the one who was responsible for the injustices of the universe. I stroked his neck and told him I was sorry that he was having a hard time. I asked him what I could do to help him calm down. He erupted into a fountain of grievances. Pepper whined softly. I asked him if he noticed how his shouting was upsetting the dog. He quieted a little, but continued his monologue of victimhood. The puppy continued to whine. I listened and commented and clarified dispassionately. Gradually, his anger seemed to ebb and the puppy stopped whining. I sat down beside Layne. I held Pepper up to his face, reading him and the dog carefully. The dog licked him affectionately. I set her in his lap. She didn’t resist, but curled up contentedly.
His angry mask dropped and tears filled his eyes. The dog seemed to give him permission to feel his pain and release it. Within two minutes, Layne’s affect was completely different. He was no longer ruminating on his disappointment and how unfair things felt. His face was serene. It was like magic!
I’ve got a bag of tricks I’ve used in the past. Once I started reading a book to him and after a couple of minutes, he was a different child. Distraction can do wonders. Still, the change from anger to the release of sadness and tears, that was a first. It seemed to me that the dog was uniquely suited to bring that out in Layne. Her willingness to lick him even though he had scared her before was so significant. Her acceptance and love was validating to him, and I think she was just what he needed in that moment.
We were able to salvage the evening. Devin continued playing the Wii U, only taking a break to eat cake and open presents. Layne participated with the family. I think Pepper helped make the evening a big success.
Devin with his cake. Layne and Devin sat next to each other peacefully!
Sometimes the Lord works in unexpected ways. I always thought about getting an emotional support animal; a fully trained dog that would help Layne manage his emotions that would likely cost a lot of money. I had no idea how much a little mutt, a rescue with no training and nearly free, could benefit my family. She has just the right temperament for my wild anxious boys. I can’t help but feel that this is one of God’s tender mercies. Little Pepper was supposed to come to our home. She is uniquely suited to bless our family.
That doesn’t mean that she isn’t going to be a lot of work. I just sense that this dog has the raw material to be a powerful tool for helping Layne, me, and all of us deal with our stressful lives. I’m going to train her to be an emotional support dog.
I’ve done my share of eye rolling with the whole “emotional support animal” trend, but the fact is, there is a reason for it. We humans have created a concrete world for ourselves. Animals and plants are usually stuffed or made of silk. We’ve lost our connection with nature and we pay for it. If an animal in our home is what it takes to remind us that we are part of a larger world full of creatures great and small, then I accept it. If it brings us back into balance, it will be well worth the work.
The scriptures say that by small and simple things, the Lord brings to pass that which is great. I stew and study about my problems. I consult the best minds and study the profound theories of mental health until my brain hurts. Then the Lord brings me a dog and I remember that he knows what I need. He knows what my boys need. And he will supply my needs.
My Shepherd will supply my need: Jehovah is His Name; In pastures fresh He makes me feed, Beside the living stream. He brings my wandering spirit back When I forsake His ways, And leads me, for His mercy's sake, In paths of truth and grace.
When I walk through the shades of death, Thy presence is my stay; A word of Thy supporting breath Drives all my fears away. Thy hand, in sight of all my foes, Doth still my table spread; My cup with blessings overflows, Thine oil anoints my head.
The sure provisions of my God Attend me all my days; O may Thy house be my abode, And all my work be praise! There would I find a settled rest, While others go and come; No more a stranger, nor a guest, But like a child at home.
Yesterday was a hot mess. It started out pretty good. It was my oldest son’s fourteenth birthday and I made him a glorious cake. Money has been extra tight lately, so I didn’t get him much for his birthday. It felt good that I was able to make him a special cake. Mom guilt whack-a-mole….the struggle is real!
This is Devin’s birthday cake. It is four layers of fudge, pudding, and devil’s food cake covered in stabilized whipped cream, chocolate gnosh, candy bars, and Oreo cookies. It tasted as good as it looked……
So I spent most of the day herding cats- I mean kids, trying to get them to do their chores. That was especially difficult given that Devin was making use of his birthday hours to play as much Zelda, Breath of the Wild on the Wii U as he possibly could get away with. His brothers like to sit and watch. Eventually, I decided to let it go and let them enjoy the last day of spring break. All things considered Spring Break has gone pretty well. Ben has been helpful in the evenings, and I have kept people from killing one another. And the house is still standing.
Before I knew it, it was time to take Austin to his birthday party. I still hadn’t wrapped the presents for Devin’s party. I also hadn’t picked up the modest bouquet of balloons I was going to grab. Austin’s party was in the evening and the invitation had noted that we were welcome to BYOB, which I know means “bring your own bottle.” There would be drinking, but that hadn’t really registered. If it had, I would have realized is that this would not be a drop off birthday party. I also didn’t realize that the pickle parade would be be going on literally one street away.
We got off late. Whack-a-mole. I saw the pickle parade and thought of the STEM academy that had organized a truck or something. I was supposed to sign a form and drop Layne off for the parade and I didn’t do it. That reminded me of the event last weekend that I also forgot about. Two moles to whpack.
I gingerly made my way through the maze of closed off streets and hordes of pedestrians. Driving can be heaven for me. I actually love to get out of the house and drive. There are a few things that can turn heaven into hell; traffic and pedestrians. Ughhh! They are so small and vulnerable and they pop up in unexpected places like crosswalks. (Imagine that) I’m looking for other cars and there is an opening and then I start to drive only to slam on my brakes in terror. A pedestrian! My heart leaps into my throat and stays there. It’s awful.
I finally found the place where the party was. We were a half hour late. Whack the mole. My stomach dropped when I saw a bounce-house and a barbecue. It was an outdoor birthday party. I glanced back at my little guy dressed in a short sleeved red tee shirt. I hadn’t even considered that it might be outside! A cold front had come in the night before and it was chilly. With the stiff breeze, it was even colder. I was also dressed in only a light shirt with no jacket. Whack the mole. I reasoned that the sun was out and he would be playing, so maybe he wouldn’t get cold.
I found Emily, the mother of the birthday girl, and she greeted me warmly and gave me a hug. She was the only person I knew. There were dozens of kids running around. Austin was already running around the bounce-house in glee. The decorations were amazing. The venue, the cake, the decorations; everything was on point. This was the kind of birthday party parents give their kids around here. Not the sad affair I was putting on for my son. Whack-a-mole.
Parents were gathered on picnic tables with bottles of beer and glasses of wine. I had planned on leaving to go get ready for Devin’s birthday party, but how could I leave my son with a bunch of adults I don’t know who are drinking? My panic really started.
My religion doesn’t allow alcohol, but I have actually been to several parties where people are drinking and it really isn’t a big deal. The problem is, I am a solidly introverted wallflower when it comes to parties. My social anxiety comes out, and I am usually checking my watch until it’s over. Sometimes I can find a friend that I can chat with and that makes it a lot better. I had no such luck at this party. The adults all seemed to know each other. My anxiety was already through the roof at this point, and I was in no fit condition to try and make small talk with strangers. Ironically, the thought occurred to me that a beer might be just the thing to help me relax. Maybe even get warm! Too bad…..
So I shivered miserably for about twenty minutes. I tried standing over by the bounce house and watching the kids, then I thought I looked like a hover mom, so I sat down again and tried to distract myself with my phone. Then I felt guilty for being that Mom. Wack-the-mole. I was gradually getting more and more cold. I decided to go home to get jackets, but the host kindly offered a jacket for Austin. It was a little small, with a few ruffles above the pockets, but it would help. I smiled and thanked her, keeping my social mask in place. Honestly, the cold didn’t seem to bother him at all, but I was deflated at the thought that my excuse for leaving was gone.
For a while, I sat inside the small house/photography studio that they had rented for the event. It was a few degrees warmer and sheltered from the wind. Eventually, they brought out a humongous balloon bouquet with probably fifty foil balloons! It was a sight to behold. It reminded me that I didn’t get any balloons for my son. We were supposed to be starting his birthday party about now. Wack-a-mole.
Austin pulled me outside to admire the balloons as they were tied to the picnic tables. He was desperate to have one for his own. I tried to explain that the balloons were not his. They were Ava’s balloons. I started noticing that my nail beds were turning blue. I have a weird condition when I get cold. It is related to my anxiety, and when I get cold, the capillaries in my hands and feet spasm removing the blood and making them go numb. They get all nasty looking and splotchy yellow-white. It’s called Raynaud’s. It still freaks me out even though it happens a lot.
I called Ben. The phone went to voicemail. I called again. That is the signal we use when I am in crisis. He came right over, but I couldn’t wait. My skin was turning white. I told my little boy I had to go, but I would be right back. I ran to the van to get the blood and feeling back into my hands and feet. A few minutes later, Ben arrived at the party and I drove home. I’ve never been happier to leave a party in my life!
So, on my drive home I got a call from Layne. He and Devin had gotten into a fight over the Wii U. Layne was clearly jealous that Devin was allowed to play for so long and he was resentful. He had put himself in timeout, which is our strategy when he gets upset. I praised him for that. The only problem was, he had taken the gamepad with him, which Devin was upset about. I tried to get Layne to put the gamepad somewhere neutral, like my room. He refused to surrender it, and Devin refused to let him keep it. I told them I would be home in five minutes to help them settle it. I only hoped that I would be in time to prevent a fistfight. Sigh! This story has a good ending, but you have to read part two……..
Reading through old journals Friday was an illuminating experience. One thing I noticed was that I have been having depressive symptoms for a long time; much longer than I wanted to admit. That probably explains why this depressive episode is lasting so much longer than I expected.
One thing that really stood out to me as I read was the fear that I had as Trump secured the Republican nomination and was sworn in as President. Fear saps my energy and drains my motivation. It is a crack in the vessel of my emotional wellness. My worries and fears did not make Donald Trump a better President. It is so much easier to look objectively at my fears as I walk yesterday’s path with my former self.
I still check Twitter somewhat obsessively, looking for the latest political scandal, the most recent developments in the Russia probe; I taste the tribalism and witness the stark divisions that rumble under the peaceful veneer of our civilized world. Fear snakes across my left shoulder and into my neck where I usually hold my tension. I massage it habitually to ease the pain, but the fear remains. Of course the scriptural cure for fear is faith. My faith has certainly been stronger, and I’ve noticed that as I testify on this blog, my faith grows.
It’s hard to have faith when you are aware of all the things that are going badly wrong. How do you have faith in the economy when tariffs are threatening global markets and the national debt is soaring? How do you have faith in the U.S. government when it is constantly at war with itself, lead by an autocratic, mercurial, and unpredictable man backed by what appears to be deluded enablers fed information from Fox News which has increasingly become a propaganda outlet for the President? How do you have faith in your church, when as you develop your testimony, you find yourself feeling increasingly out of step with other church members? How do you have faith in yourself when you are laying on the couch overwhelmed with the responsibilities of parenthood and unable to force yourself to face the next thankless task?
There are no easy answers to these questions. The truth is, we are commanded by God to have faith in one thing; that Jesus is the Christ. All other things are transitory, temporary, and fallible. Even the Prophet Joseph Smith, whom I believe to be the prophet of the great restoration of Christ’s church in these last days, was only a man. The leader of our church today, whom I honor and revere as a prophet, is only a man. Jesus Christ is the only true source of life and truth. As I seek for him, and have faith in him, I will be able to cast out my fear.
I recorded a sacred experience that I had as I prayed for my country during the Republican primaries. I won’t go into a lot of detail about that experience, but one thing I want to share. I had asked specifically about who I should support in the Republican primaries and had asked about Ben Carson, one of the candidates I liked best. I liked his calm and reasoned responses to the issues, his focus on reconciliation and forgiveness, and his remarkable journey from poor black boy in a single parent home, to world-class neurosurgeon. I hoped that as President he would calm some of the deep divisions in the party and the country. I thought that as an outsider, he might have some insight into how we could improve our government traditions in ways that someone with more experience might take as just the way things are done. I hoped that if he led the Republican Party, that it would show the nation that the party was not racist and is willing to embrace minorities who find our message of freer markets, lower taxes, and traditional religious values resonates. This might invite minorities to investigate Republican candidates and messages and broaden party appeal. At that time, I thought that the Republican Party was better than it was. I hoped that a Republican President would unite the country, restore U.S. credibility abroad, and reign in zealous progressive forces. Of course, I have been disappointed.
I prayed to know if I should support Ben Carson or keep looking for a different candidate. He told me that Ben Carson was a good choice because he was humble and willing to seek after the will of God. He then said, “The choice is clear. The American people will decide and the character of the nation will be revealed.” Looking back on that statement was chilling. In electing Donald Trump President, what have we revealed about our national character? Many things can be said about Donald Trump by his supporters, but I don’t think anyone would characterize him as humble and willing to seek after the will of God. What will the be the consequences of our decision to value bombast, bullying, flattery, and lies over honesty, civility, humility, and faith in Jesus Christ? Truly, the country is in a perilous place.
George Mason, a little known but tremendously important founding father, said, “By an inevitable chain of causes and effects, Providence punishes national sins, by national calamities.” This is not good news for us. It is inevitable that we will suffer because of how far we have strayed from the true path of our Savior. Reading about George Mason, his thoughtful nature, his eloquent expressions of moral conviction, his dedication to the Savior, and I think; these are the men and women who built the foundation of the country I love. I have read the Federalist Papers and the Anti-Federalist Papers. I have studied the lives of the founders. At one time I had the Declaration of Independence memorized. The whole thing! I studied the constitution prayerfully and reverently as I would my scriptures. I say unapologetically and without reservation that the Constitution was and is an inspired document. We cast it aside at our peril.
As I watch the Constitution be slowly disrespected and dismissed I am assured that we are headed for hard times. Zealous progressives have no love for the Constitution or the “racist white males” who founded our nation. Trump supporters have no use for it either, as it restricts their leader’s ability to “drain the swamp.” Everyone has an opinion about the direction we should go as a nation, but we lack the patience, humility, and self-awareness to see that the Constitution is everything. If the Constitution is not rooted in the hearts of every American, our country is already gone; drowned in a sea of outrage and identity politics, false narratives and petty ambition.
I talked to a reader last week and he gave me some feedback about my writing. He said that my passionate views can come across as judgmental. Also, he has felt personally attacked at times as he has read my words. I’ve pondered a lot on that. This was shocking to me, because I can’t think of a single blog post in which I was thinking of him at all. At times I have probably written things regarding relationships that would be better dealt with in a direct way. I am working on that. It takes a lot of courage to deal face to face with people, but it isn’t fair for me to send passive aggressive messages via blog post. I write on here about things that I think about, almost never do I think of specific people as I am writing, especially in politics.
I love my progressive friends. They have taught me so much. They are without question, the most loving and courageous people I know. They have supported my fight against depression without judgment and that is the greatest gift I could ask for. When I see these friends I don’t think, “There’s a zealous progressive out to undermine the Constitution!” I usually don’t think about politics at all when I am with them, and if I do, I want to know what they think so I can benefit from their views.
I have many friends that are Trump supporters. Again, I don’t think, “There is an enabler of tyranny,” when I see them. I see my friends. There are a handful of people that I have offended with my critical views of Trump and things are a bit awkward with them, but for the most part, I don’t care who you voted for or what news channel you watch. I’m not going to hate you or judge you because of your politics. Politics, in my opinion, is like religion. It is extremely complex and personal. One might question why I choose to write about it at all. The answer is, purely for selfish reasons.
I criticize the progressive and Trumpist philosophies on here because of the way they don’t fit in my brain. It is about me, not about anyone else. I find the blog is a useful tool for me to process the bizzard of current events and endless conflicts in my inner world. Perhaps as you read my blog, you might feel dissonance in your own brain. If that’s the case, I highly recommend writing. It clears the brain, clarifies the thoughts, and improves cognition in general. At least for me.
So, I have precious little faith in the temporal and transitory things of this world. My nation, my church, my family, my friends, and all my material possessions are in real danger right now. That fear is justified and clear-eyed. Still, that fear does not need to paralyze me. I need not cower before difficult circumstances.
The Lord is my Shepherd. No want shall I know. I feed in green pastures; safe folded I rest. He leadeth my soul where the still waters flow. Restores me when wandering, redeems when oppressed.
In the valley and shadow of death though I stray, since thou art my guardian, no evil I fear. Thy rod shall defend me, thy staff be my stay. No harm can befall with my comforter near! No harm can befall with my comforter near!
The Savior is ever mindful of us. He knows what we have need of. He is mighty to save. No bomastic autocrat has power like that humble shepherd of men, and he stands ready to make his arm bare in defense of his people. May we be worthy of his leadership for now is the time to prepare to meet Him. Blessed be the name of the Most High God!
The Broken Handmaid 