Flee to Christ

No matter how many waves rise up in your soul, always flee to Christ.  The Savior will come to help and will calm the waves.  Believe that the Lord has providentially arranged your life for your healing; do not reject it and do not seek bodily rest and imagined peace.  It is necessary rather to be shaken and endure much.  If you will have a revelation, it will greatly ease your battle and you will have more peace than just by yourself.  ~St. Leo

When my youngest daughter was about 4 I had a panic attack.  I don't know if you've ever had a panic attack, but it's one of the worst feelings ever.  I got a sinking feeling that something was "wrong" and my body responded with an adrenaline rush which seemed to confirm the feeling.  I assumed I was just over tired or thought maybe I ate something that didn't agree with my brain.  I thought it was a one time thing.  It wasn't.

After a while another panic attack came.  Then another and another until it felt like my life was just riding the wave of panic. I wasn't my normal optimistic mostly happy self.  I was carrying a great weight and I didn't know how to get out from under it.  I felt like I was in a dark pit and couldn't see even a pin prick of light for a long time.  I wanted to "flee to Christ", but it felt like each foothold I discovered in that pit would melt away and I'd fall back down before I'd gotten far.  It was so hard. I listened to KLOVE and read the Bible but the "traffic" inside kept coming.   I took medication for a time and while that helped me to peep out of the pit there was still much work to do that the medication couldn't do for me (this is just my personal experience and not to say there is not a place for medication).

I battled with anxiety for two years. It took every bit of effort to be a wife and mommy.  When moments of peace came I was thankful, but I also questioned how long it would last.  I felt like a little girl clinging to the robes of Christ and dancing on His feet, because I didn't understand the rhythm of life anymore. 

My husband was the one who said the words that made all the difference.  "Don't focus on what you can't do, focus on what you can do."  The first thing I focused on was breathing in and out.  I can breathe.  I focused on driving or playing with my kids or singing or cooking.  Little by little I was able to focus on the "now" instead of the "what ifs". 

One of the things that impacted my life tremendously was going to my mom's church before we became Orthodox.  It was the Pascha service.  It was late at night and I stood there with my mom and two of my daughters.  That night was special for a number of reasons.  Spiritual reasons.  But that night my heart was blessed by words sung over and over again.  "Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and on those in the tombs bestowing life!" It was a declaration of truth.  It was triumphant.  It was bigger than my panic.  Then the priest would call out "Christ is Risen!" and the congregation responded "Indeed He is Risen!" They said it in English and Greek and Russian.  

When I went home that night my sleep was the most peaceful it had been in months.  It seemed every time a dream started to go in a negative direction "Christ is risen from the dead..." would be the reply and the panic was replaced with peace.  This went on all night.  It was as if my heart was standing guard over my mind. 

It was still a few months before I was finally able to stop the traffic.  I had been carrying a heavy weight for so long.  A lovely woman from a homeschool conference prayed for me and also helped me see I wasn't some freak for having panic attacks.  She reminded me of how the enemy of man's soul tries to isolate us and kick us while we're down.  She reminded me that thousands of mamas felt like they were all alone in the struggle of anxiety or depression.  I went to a quiet spot and prayed.  I noticed something.  The traffic stopped.  I had put up a road block so I could pray. It was only for minutes at a time at first.  I realized, by the grace of God, that I didn't have to respond to the traffic or reason with the traffic.  I could just put up a road block of silence and when the traffic tried to go around the road block I internally took on the role of Gandalf standing against the Balrog refusing to let the thoughts pass. 

Since making it to the other side of the battle I have learned a few things.  I figured out some of the "why" behind my anxiety (An attack on my mother by a stranger in the middle of the night when I was 3 and witnessed violence because I happened to be sleeping in her bed that night.  A grandmother who was chronically ill and on life support multiple times.  A car accident.) I learned how valuable that awful time was and that while I wouldn't purposefully choose it, I wouldn't trade it for the world because it made me rely on the Lord and it made me stronger.  I learned that anxiety is a weak chink in my armor and I have to avoid watching, reading or listening to certain things because I feel the sorrows/fears/hurts of this world so keenly.  I learned that the Lord is faithful and big enough and strong enough to handle everything.

If you, dear mother, are struggling, or have struggled, with anxiety or depression know that you are not alone.  Know that God has not lost sight of you.  And know that the Light is there even when you can't see it.

-Lord have mercy upon me.  My thoughts seem unyielding but I know you are more powerful.  Thank you that you have not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, of love and of a sound mind.  Help me not to despair, but to draw closer to you.  Let me not forget the challenges of this world are great, but that you are greater still.  For You are Holy now and unto ages of ages.  Amen. 
 
-Oh Lord of hosts, calm my anxious heart. In Your love and concern for the salvation of my soul bring to mind your loving kindness and grant me Your strength to block out every thought or feeling that does not bring glory to you. Teach me to keep my mind in the present that I may meditate upon your goodness whenever I am assaulted by anxious thoughts. If I may not be freed from the anxiety plaguing me, let me continue to work out my salvation, know Your peace and trust You for each step heavenward. Amen.

Mercy for Mamas

In the book of Luke, chapter 8 verses 9-14, we read the story of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector.  In those days a tax collector was viewed sort of how we view the IRS.  They skimmed from the top and were not trustworthy persons.  The story tells us that these two men went to the temple to pray.  The Pharisee prayed and thanked God that he was not like sinners, even (or maybe especially) the Tax Collector.  He proudly gave his credentials about how much he fasted and  how much he gave.  The Tax Collector, on the other hand, humbly cried out to God, "God, be merciful to me a sinner!"

In the Orthodox tradition we say the Jesus Prayer, taken from this parable.  We seek the Lord's mercy on our lives by praying "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner."  I think of the long bearded kind eyed monks with their 300 knot prayer ropes praying this prayer throughout the day and night.  I think of the nuns I was able to meet at St. Paisius Monastery who used this prayer to "pray without ceasing" as they went about their work.  The words just part of their breathing out and breathing in. 

As a mama my breathing out and breathing in consists of lots of directions, affirmations (at least I try), redirection and correction.  Some days it's hard to find a moment to pray and others it's hard to find the will to pray.  Just being honest.  But there is always "Lord have mercy".  When my children do something frustrating or my day feels overwhelming I can pray "Lord have mercy on me a sinner."  It is both a request for His mercy and a reminder to me of WHY I need His mercy...I am a sinner.  On good days I'm a sinner and on challenging days I'm a sinner.  His mercy is ever needed!

I've been working on doing this for a little while now.  If I am not praying for mercy for myself I can pray for mercy for my children or husband or friends. Do you know what I'm finding?  It is giving me that moment I am always looking for.  That moment to stop and turn my focus to the Lord and ask for His help instead of reacting to a situation.  Can you imagine how many emotional bumps and bruises might be avoided by praying that short prayer?  I pray the positive impact is great! 

The lives we lead as mothers and the asceticism we are practicing (or endeavoring to practice) in our own homes shows us our need for the Lord's mercy as we raise up the next generation for Him.  It reminds us to be honest about our lowly state and humble ourselves so we can accept His gracious and loving help.  His mercy is there for us right when we need it.  It was there for the humble Tax Collector.  It was available to the proud Pharisee.  And it is there for a mama like me.  Praise God!

O Holy Trinity, I come before you as the Publican (tax collector), acknowledging how unworthy I am of Your grace and mercy.  And while I know my shortcomings are great, I thank you that You love even me. I humble myself before Your throne and dare to ask that You bestow Your grace and Your mercy and grant me the courage to walk in Your ways.  For You are my God and to You I ascribe glory and honor in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit now and ever and unto ages of ages.  Amen.

 

One Thing

As I have mentioned before, I have a particular child in my home who has a heavy burden to carry.  This child doesn't fully understand body language or facial expressions.  He doesn't understand his own emotions or much beyond "happy" and "sad", and even those emotions he gets mixed up sometimes.  Some days he seems to need to bounce his body off of everyone and everything to figure out where his body is in space and time.  Everyone and everything doesn't always appreciate this method.  His volume control button is broken...or perhaps we haven't found it yet.  If there is any sugar in the house he will do anything to get it.  He will wake up in the middle of the night and sneak and steal.  The results are evident hours later when he is unable to control his body.  It is like an addict looking for his next fix.  And he is not at all pleasant when on his "drug".  He becomes more physically imposing and louder.  But there is one thing...

Sometimes, when parents have children that excel at being over the top challenging, we have to find that "one thing" we can cling to that brings us hope.  With all the behavior we have to try and work throughout each day, my son can have a very giving heart when it comes to his money.  Last night he found some of his change left over from allowance.  He saw the little Food for the Hungry box we get at the beginning of each Lent (and generally don't turn in until the following Lent!).  He took his money and without hesitation put the rest of his allowance into the box.  He has taken toys and money his brothers leave out and tried to make them his own. He has shown up with things from school that obviously belonged to someone else just because couldn't control the temptation to acquire it.  He has NEVER tried to take money from that box.  He is always excited when he can add something to it and loves to pick it up to see how heavy it is getting.  

My child regularly brings me to tears because of his behavior, and even sometimes when I just think of the long long road ahead of both of us, but this time the tears were because of a sweet selfless gesture.  Sometimes it's that "one thing" that makes all the difference.

Empty Stockings

On December 9, 1988 I went to spend the night at a friends house.  We were going to go out to "coffee" (mostly cream with a hint of coffee for flavor).  My mom had asked where we were going for coffee and when I told her she said I could go to coffee somewhere else but not there.  She had a bad feeling.  I said I wouldn't go and was allowed to spend the night at my friend's house.  After I was dropped off, my friend and I proceeded to go to the coffee shop my mom hadn't wanted me to go to.  It didn't make sense why we could go to one and not the other.  It was just coffee.

Not long after we arrived at the coffee shop two other friends showed up and asked if we wanted to go to Chico.  My friend's mom had given permission and we thought it would be great fun.  We piled into the mustang convertible.  The driver told us to put our seat belts on.  I remember the request was strange because we'd never worn them before.  We put them on and headed down the highway.  I was crouched down a little in the back because I didn't want my hair to get to messed up.  We were laughing and everything was going just fine until we got to a curve.  Apparently the new driver got nervous and over corrected causing the car to spin, slide sideways and finally flip several times before landing on the other side of the freeway upside down.  I remember the spin and seeing the girl in the front with her hands over her eyes screaming and my friend next to me sitting straight up with her hands in the air screaming.  Everything was in slow motion.  I remember the car sliding sideways and rocks flying into my face and the front of the car lifting up into the air. 

I woke up upside down in the dark.  I looked to my right and the girl sitting next to me was in an awkward position.  I remembered from drivers ed first aid that if someone is in a strange position don't move them.  So I got myself out of the seat belt and turned away.  I felt my head and it was squishy, like squeezing a Barbie doll's head.  There were cassette tapes on the ground and I started tossing them out under the space between the ground and the car.  Then I heard voices and a white gloved hand appeared under the door.  I grabbed the hand!  In my mind it registered that it was a butler with white gloves and the edge of a tuxedo jacket, not the medical gloves of a paramedic.  He told me he had to let go of my hand because they had to use the jaws of life to free me.  I didn't want to let go!  I still didn't understand what was going on, what had happened, but I did understand that the gloved hand meant I was safe.  He had to pry my fingers off of his.  I heard the loud sound of something cutting through or breaking through the metal. 

I crawled out from the metal cave and laid down on the stretcher.  They put something around my neck and wouldn't let me cross my ankles.  And they wouldn't shut up!  They kept asking me questions about who was in the car, phone numbers, addresses.  I answered them, but I just wanted them to be quiet so I could go to sleep.  I felt so tired.

When I arrived at the hospital they cut my clothes off.  They were my favorite clothes!  The ER doctor was related to my drivers ed teacher and I remember telling him not to tell anyone he'd seen me that way.  They took x-rays and did tests.  I just missed needing stitches on my head.  They put me in a room for observation.  I felt sick.  No one believed me until I hurled over the side of the bed and onto the floor.  My mom came into the room crying.  I asked her if I was in trouble for disobeying.  That was all I could think of.  She was just glad I was alive.  The nurses helped me get up and go into the restroom.  No one had told me I had scratched my face on the asphalt.  From the top of the side of my head, missing a little hair, and down the side of my face to just before my mouth I had road burn. 

After letting me sleep for a few hours my mom came back to my room.  I asked how Trina, the girl next to me, was doing.  She didn't speak.  I said "she's dead, isn't she?"  She nodded and cried.  I cried too...but it was more a forced cry because I knew I should be crying.  I was in shock.  Trina's sister came and her mother. I learned that Trina's position had been awkward because the car had landed on her.  I told them I was so sorry.  I had been another daughter in the family.  I couldn't understand why the Lord had taken her and not me.  I was a Christian, she was in the process of asking some very deep questions about the faith.  It took me years to learn that we don't have to understand what He allows to be able to accept what He allows.

This accident took place just 2 days after Trina turned 15 and 3 days before I turned 16.  I was in the hospital for a week with a major concussion, severe whiplash and minor internal bleeding.  All I could keep down were grape popsicles.  So many people came to visit.  People I didn't even want to see came to visit.  I would fade in and out of consciousness and wake up to find people standing at the foot of my bed.  On my birthday a group of my friends came and had gathered around me so when I woke up I asked if I had died because they were crying.  My brother brought the video Willow and was allowed to stay in my room to watch with me. 

Trina's mom didn't do well after the accident.  Her life fell apart.  She couldn't accept help from anyone. I say couldn't rather than wouldn't because it seemed her sorrow was the only thing she had left that she could give to Trina on a daily basis. That Christmas there was an empty stocking at Trina's house.  Presents purchased were only painful reminders of what would never be. 

These thoughts were on my mind and heart when I learned about the elementary school shooting. I think of how tragic a car accident is, but how different it is from a shooting. A car accident is just that, an accident. It was caused by someones inexperience not by someones purposeful act of violence.  An intentional act of violence is pain added to pain.  I think of the poor parents of these children from Sandy Hook Elementary School and 20 empty stockings this Christmas. 

Thank God for the hope we have in Him and the comfort we find in Him.  He too has wept.  He too has lost children.  Let us pray together for these families and appreciate our children this Christmas and cry with thanksgiving and joy when we fill their stockings and, most importantly, share with them the light of Christ coming into this world, which is the purpose of this great and holy feast!

O Lord who watches over children in the present life and in the world to come because of their simplicity and innocence of mind, abundantly satisfying them with a place in Abraham's bosom, bringing them to live in radiantly shining places where the spirits of the righteous dwell: receive in peace the soul of Your little servant (name), for You Yourself have said, "Let the little children come to Me, for such is the Kingdom of Heaven." Amen. http://www.orthodoxprayer.org/OtherPrayers.html

Getting Grounded

I have made a new friend.  She is lovely and smart and truly a "kindred spirit".  She thought she was looking for someone to encourage her, little did she know how much the Lord was going to use her to encourage me in my mommy-ing. 
 
My new friend and I are both moms to first born daughters.  We are also each mom to our own set of boys adopted from the foster care system.  We both endeavor, often daily, to understand the unique needs of these boys and struggle to determine whether or not we have finally lost our minds or if it is just part of raising children with extra needs.  
 
She asks, "Is it normal for boys to use their nightlights to make sparks and scorch their outlets? Is it normal for boys to lie constantly? Is it normal for boys to see how much they can get away with when their parent literally walks out of the room for 5 minutes? Is it normal for boys to sneak into food, hide the wrappers behind the washing machine, and do this every single morning before you wake up (and it’s still dark out) even when you’ve fed them man size, hearty portions all day long? Is it normal for boys to be unable to look you in the eyes even when they know they are not in trouble? Is it normal to go over something that is inappropriate or dangerous a dozen times or more and boys are just going to keep doing it regardless what you say or what consequence you give? Are these all seriously normal boy behaviors and I missed the memo somewhere?"
 
My response, "We are in the trenches in a battle for their souls as well as our own. This is what I was thinking about when I named my blog The Ascetic Lives of Mothers. We are constantly being forced to die to ourselves, battling against unseen forces (whether spiritual or physiological). There are the constant behavior grenades going off and attitude snipers that catch us unawares. We are blindsided by the attachment disorder tanks and surprised by the auditory/sensory processing special forces. And yet we stand. By the grace of God we stand. And though we might be dragging them through the mud and forcefully setting their feet upon the ground, they stand too."

Our boys are different, and they DO have issues some will never experience, but I think every mother struggles, at one time or another, to understand her children.  I think we all struggle throughout our mothering journey to understand ourselves as mothers, working out our salvation, laboring for our children and with our children to help them to be able to stand firmly as they learn to walk in this world.  I think most of us doubt ourselves and look back at our parenting journey with a list of what ifs.  But,GLORY BE TO GOD, our Lord reminds us that all is not lost and our labor is not in vain. 
 
 
2 Cor. 4:8-10 We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed—always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body.


Dearest Lord Jesus, show me how to be a loving mother to my children. You know the desire of my heart is to mother my children in a way that will draw them to You. Forgive my shortcomings and help me not to sink into despair, but to rise up in faith with the knowledge that Your holy power is strong enough to sustain me and guide me to be the mother my children need. Help me to be slow to speak, quick to listen and quick to forgive my children of their faults. Grant me Your vision for my children that I may know how to train, encourage and pray for them. For you are holy now and unto ages of ages. Amen.

The Lord Giveth

Today was my first experience attending a termination hearing even though we've already adopted three children through the state.  With our first adoption we knew our son was going to be ours from the beginning.  Rights had already been terminated.  I'd never met the parents. 

Our second adoption was with two older boys who know their birth mom and dad.  I knew the parents before the adoption but again, because of the unusual circumstances parental rights had already been terminated before they came back into our home.  I had a connection with their birth mama but it was already a done deal so the mourning was different for them. 

But this one?  The parents didn't show up.  Perhaps it was too painful. I can't imagine how painful it would be even if I was finding a way to "cover up" the pain. 

List after list of offenses, failures and issues were read.  Some were called to testify.  All this while my 23 month old little boy played at our home (or screamed :) or escaped from the living room) totally unaware that his fate was being decided for him. 

You may wonder why I wasn't jumping for joy on the inside as the parental deficiencies grew more and more apparent to the judge.  But in situations like this there is a loss first, which should be recognized.  Not only the child's loss, but the parent's loss as well.  There at least needs to be a moment of silence...a respect that we have when someone or something has died. 

Yet out of those sad ashes comes great joy for our family!  We will be receiving another son!  4 strong and amazing sons!  Crazy and LOUD sons!  The Lord has seen fit to grow our family His way.  He knows the purposes behind providing our family as the landing spot for these pre-men.  Even with our deficiencies within our family, He knows exactly what is necessary and what will grow well in our "family garden". 

Dear Lord, thank you for the amazing blessing of our son-to-be.  Show us how to raise all of our children in such a way that they will desire to walk with You all the days of their lives.  Have mercy upon his parent and provide every opportunity for them to come to know You.  For You are blessed now and ever and unto ages of ages.  Amen.

Lasts

My dear friend, godmother, mentor and walking buddy has taken the hand of Jesus and stepped over into His country.  She found out in April that her life was going to change forever, whether it was through healing or through death.

There are many lasts when a person begins their journey towards death, even sudden death.  When someone is taken quickly, unexpectedly, the ones left behind will think of last words, fights, laughs...the last things they did together or why they were apart at the last. 

I had the blessed opportunity to share some "lasts" with my friend.  By God's grace my 6 children and I were able to drive 1500 miles in our little van to visit while Terry was still responding to the chemo relatively well.  We all got to see her and, because of the kindness of others, my little boys were able to visit with family for two days and my big girls with friends so I could sit with my friend.  Sometimes we said nothing.  Sometimes I was asked to position my head so the sun wouldn't be in her eyes or to warm a hot pack in the microwave for use to relieve some of the pain.  Sometimes I just sat next to her chair clinging to her arm...laughing, crying, talking, waiting...loving God, hating death.  We stayed from Wednesday to Sunday after church.  We took pictures.  We said goodbye and I watched her being helped to the car by her children. It was a last.  The last time I saw her with these earthly eyes.

For days and weeks after that I sent emails for our daily "walks". Our last walk had taken place in Mount Hermon.  One lap around the block, but it was so precious to me!  Now our walks were in cyber space, but we still walked, though I did all the talking.  And then the news came that her body was no longer responding to chemo.  We kept walking but the walks were slower and slower with fewer and fewer words. We had our last "walk" on September 15 and our last words over the phone a few days later.

For anyone who has ever attended a birth you may understand this.  When the contractions start coming there is a sense of excitement.  The life changing moment is almost here, though there are usually many hours of waiting and work ahead.  The mother is still able to talk and interact with those around her relatively well.  There might even be some joking.  But when a woman starts to go through transition everything changes.  She desires the atmosphere around her to change so she can focus on the work at hand without distraction.  The lights are dimmed and there is a reverent quiet that hangs in the air.  The mother does whatever she must to work with her body toward the birthing of that precious babe.  It seemed like the same thing was taking place as Terry's body began going through the contractions that would birth her from this life into the next. 

And in those moments her family experienced precious, painful, glorious moments with that sweet lady.  Their own lasts that will stay in their hearts and minds forever while those of us in the "waiting room" contemplated what our lasts had been.

Last night her last breath was breathed, but a first took place as well.  Her first breath in the King's Country! 

Christ our eternal King and God, You have destroyed death and the devil by Your Cross and have restored man to life by Your Resurrection; give rest, Lord, to the soul of Your servant Terry who has fallen asleep, in Your Kingdom, where there is no pain, sorrow or suffering. In Your goodness and love for all men, pardon all the sins she has committed in thought word or deed, for there is no man or woman who lives and sins not, You only are without sin. For You are the Resurrection, the Life, and Repose of Your servant Terry, departed this life, O Christ our God; and to You do we send up glory with Your Eternal Father and Your All-holy, Good and Life-creating Spirit; both now and forever and to the ages of ages. Amen