I'm not sure of who or where or what I am tonight. I mean, I know those things, intellectually, but otherwise, I'm not so sure. Tonight was a weird night. We had our Ladies Bible study tonight and I didn't really want to go. I guess that's not true, I like going to them. I just wasn't in the mood. Actually, I was in a horrible mood. An angry, defiant, hate the world, don't look at me or the lasers in my eyes will burn you up, mood. Yeah. I was trying to get the new pool set up for my kids and it was time to go and I still wasn't ready then everyone was late.. My husband had to stay at work late, and I had to find a sitter. It was just chaos. By the time I left my house there were six kids and two baby sitters here. BTW, I only have two kids. Do the math. It was CHAOS.

Any how. I'm getting off point. This isn't how I expected this post to go, or at least to start. I'm sure I'm getting to where I was heading, it's just taking me longer. But really by the time we got to the Bible study I was in a good mood. Being in the car with good friends (and my mom) generally does that to me. Then we got there and there were more good friends. Funny ones. We sat on the deck and ate dinner and told stories from when we were younger and laughed til our bellies hurt. It felt so good. So right. So real.

After dinner we went in to have the study. It was good. Really good. One of those lessons that make you think. Or at least, make me think. Maybe some people totally agree with what the speaker said, and have no objections at all. I agree with everything she said. And I still have objections. How contradictory :) The lesson was on Exodus 14. I think. Hang on let me look, don't wanna mess this up.. yeah, it was 14, the account of the parting of the Red Sea. Wow. So I've hear these thing said a million times. I knew where she was going with it. Her lesson was titled 'Don't Forget'. It made perfect sense. Because she was right. The Israelites were a bunch of doubting whiners. They walked through the sea, with walls of water like skyscrapers on either side of them, and were still worried that God was going to let big bad Pharaoh get them. Right after that, they didn't get water for three days. They forgot all about the Red Sea, and freaked out, sure they were going to die. They did these things over and over. They were shown over and over and over again miracles and signs and wonders and still they doubted. Still they turned back and tried to do things their own way. We like to say to ourselves now that if it were us and we walked through that sea there is no way we would forget. I don't know. I can't say.

Ahem. The lesson was talking about not forgetting the good things God has done for us, given us. About pushing God out and whining about all of the horrible things that are going on, a basic pity party, so to speak. And there were points that made so much sense. Yes, life is hard, but God is good. And we have no right to not serve Him just because life is hard. No one promised it wouldn't be. In fact, we were told it would be. But we are still to love and worship, obey and serve Him anyhow, because without Him we would have no life at all, and certainly no promise of anything better than this life. However.

Yes, in my life, there is always a however. Okay I don't know that this is a however, because I'm still totally not sure how I feel about this whole thing. I sat there on the couch, and cried. I tried to hide it, bc basically I don't like my mom to see me cry. I was thinking all of these things.. like is it okay to hurt? I mean, really? I hurt. I hurt sometimes to the core of who I am. But I am still so very grateful for the things God has given me. Is that okay with Him? Is it okay with him that I have this sorrow and this grief? This mourning for my tarnished life? Or is He up there going 'Okay, okay, I know, shake it off, I'm here, get up and move on'? I don't know. Is it okay that I'm hurting like this. Sometimes sad and depressed, sorrowful, even. Is it okay that I don't always have a smile on my face? Even Jesus cried. Yes, the Israelites were doubters. And they make me roll my eyes sometimes. They are reminders to us to remember. But look at how David hurt. Sometimes I read the Psalms and feel as though those words could have poured out of my heart. And he was a man after God's own heart. So is it okay?

Is it okay that I feel broken? Torn? I am so grateful for the things I have been given. For my safe happy life here. My husband, who God so wonderfully placed in my life to save me from sheer devastation. My children who have given me hope and focus, drive and will power. My family, my friends. My home. Everything. I am fully aware that I did not come by these things on my own. I am certain I don't deserve them. But I am so grateful for them.

More importantly, I'm grateful for Jesus. This one is hard for me to write or talk about because it tears me up inside. It breaks my heart to know that He died for me. For me. Broken, dirty, sinful little me. It tears me to pieces. I almost can't stand the thought of it. I can't. But I know it's true and I am so tearfully thankful that He did, because now I will know better than this. There is more than this. I only have to make it through this, first.

So, I still remain unanswered in my questions. I have no idea what is right or wrong here. Christianity is about joy. I have joy. It's deep down in my heart. Ask my kids. :) Seriously, it's there. But at the same time, there is hurt. When Jesus was betrayed, he hurt. He prayed for hours in the garden begging God to show Him a different way. There could have been a different way. It could have been any way God wanted it. But He wanted it this way. So Jesus did it. And it hurt. It hurt a lot and he cried and he sweat blood and he hurt. But he also had joy, knowing He was doing the Father's will. Is that the joy? Or should I be smiling all the time? Sing and be happy. Blue skies and rainbows. Those songs almost always make me roll my eyes. Maybe that's wrong, but I just feel that I can have joy, and still know hurt. I shouldn't have to forsake my emotions, the ones that God gave me. Not ever. I can praise Him and hurt. I think maybe I can praise Him more now, that He's brought me through this. I don't know. I feel as though it causes me to love Him more. I've never blamed this on Him. Ever. I don't think it's His fault. In fact, I think it really had nothing to do with Him, at all. He just allowed because humans are free moral agents. He didn't stop it, but He didn't like it either. He didn't will this for me. This may not have been His plan, but of course He wasn't surprised by it either. I guess I could ramble on this all day.

So I'm not angry at God. I don't blame God. I love Him, praise Him, worship and serve Him. I beg Him for answers I may never get, but I never doubt the love. I never doubt Him. I hurt. I ache. I cry, I scream and sometimes I say things I shouldn't. I sin. I get depressed and don't want to get out of bed. My moods swing violently from one end of the spectrum to the other. I feel anger and rage and don't know how to control it. I love my children. My husband. I doubt myself. I dislike him. I hate what he did. I ache for his soul. I doubt my salvation (I struggle with this one, not because I fear God can't, or won't, but just don't feel worthy). I will give you anything you ask for. I will literally give you the shirt off my children's backs if it will help your child. (it's okay, they have more clothes at home :) I forget to read my Bible. I cry when I take the Lord's supper. I don't do what I say I will. I do what I say I won't. I am loyal. I love fiercely. I am human. I am a soul. I am mortal. I will live forever.

I am contradictory. Does that mean that I'm not just as good as sister sing and be happy or brother blue skies and rainbows? No, I don't think so. I think it just means that I know pain. I hope it means that I am human and God feels my pain with me, and is carrying me through this. I don't like using this as a crutch, but part of me seriously hopes God understands, and allows for the craziness that has ensued in the aftermath of this terror. That somehow He's going to look at me and realize that I did the very best I could. I wish somehow I could convince my self that I am doing the very best. I don't know..
It's late and I should sleep, as un-tired as I am. I know I need to sleep. I could have done better with this post, but again it's late, and my head tends to roam. Oh well.
Love to all
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  • I'm a wife. I'm a mom. I'm a photographer. I'm a lover of Jesus. My house is a mess, my kids are dirty, we eat take out more often than not. My life is loud, busy and crazy. And that's okay with me.
    This is Eric, the man you've been praying for. He's a paramedic. He quilts in his spare time. No, I couldn't make that up :) He has NASH (a form of liver disease, non-alcoholic) and diabetes, but those things don't define him. He's a man of God, an insanely wonderful husband, and the best daddy in the world.. Just ask these guys..
    Our daughter Ali, she's 9. She's fiercely opinionated and strong willed. She's a Daddy's girl, but the umbilical cord hasn't but cut from me, either. She's a gymnast, and proud of it. She spends more time upside down or turning flips than she does walking. She's crazy smart, and absolutely sure of it. She is my insufferable little know it all.
    Our son Dylan, 7. We lovingly refer to him as Chubs. Or Chubby. Or fat boy. Ahem. He is all boy, as you can see by his crazy wild energy. He has the highest pain tolerance of any child I have ever met. He plays soccer and does gymnastics, but truly he is a gamer, a nerd. He is an avid reader and loves to climb. Not to be outdone by his sister, he's a drama king, but to him, I'm the best mommy in the world.