To Those Brave Enough to Love Me

I've wondered for days whether or not to post this blog.  It's risky from where I'm standing.

Doing so will tear down a brick wall that guards and protects me and replace it with a wall of glass so that anyone who wishes can see inside.
It flings open a Pandora's box I have diligently kept padlocked for decades. I'm typing it now, still not sure I have the courage to execute the click that will share it with the world. It will likely sit here for weeks, unpublished, before I get the nerve....if I get the nerve....

Recently, I read someone else's blog post and had myself an epiphany. It was like looking in a mirror, like someone had figured me out and decided to write about it.  It also pointed out that keeping things concealed only prevented people from understanding one another, which inhibits LOVE.  And since Love is the focus of my own blog......

I am like Julius Caesar standing at the edge of the Rubicon, debating whether to set foot on that bridge and risk what may come for the sake of what I hope it will accomplish.

I sound dramatic.
But know this, friend: Exposing myself in this way is extraordinarily frightening for me.

I fear your harsh judgments, your stinging comments that social media makes it so easy to throw at another person.  I am more vulnerable than my personality makes me seem, be assured.

I fear the label you may attach to me. I fear the condescending air you may have with me once you know.

Except I fear even more that my behavior has sometimes confused people I love, and it may be worth the risk just for you to understand.

I fear that some of you haven't known what to make of it when I withdraw and become very distant, especially if we are family or if you thought we were close friends. (We probably are.)

I fear many things.

But Love can conquer fear, and Love is the Song I want my life to sing.

So I'm unlocking the box, and crossing that bridge over the Rubicon, although I do so trembling.

If you know me personally (and maybe even if you don't,) please click on this link and read. It will introduce you to a part of me you probably don't know, and it will help to explain the part of me you do know.
I have never cut or physically harmed myself in any way, nor will I.  Other than that, here I am:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/lexi-herrick/11-habits-of-people-with-_b_6384062.html

Home, the Journey

As a Mom, I entered this school year with much fear and trepidation.

After much prayer and consideration, we had decided to homeschool our two daughters.  Although we loved the private school they attended, we were burdened over the fact that one of them was experiencing deep insecurity and seemed chronically angry.  Her behavior, at least with me, was rebelliously disobedient, at times even defiant.  I knew this was not who she really was.  Something had taken root in her, and to get to the bottom of it and address it, I was going to have to become much more engaged in her world than our demanding schedule was allowing. 

It was a tremendous leap of faith.  I am an unorganized person.  I am not a good planner.  I tend to lack self-discipline and need the accountability of a job with a boss to whom I must answer.  But we asked God for a clear answer, and He had given it.  And the only thing scarier than trusting Him and diving in was the thought of disobeying such a clear instruction from Him.

So we did it. For most of the first semester, I wasn't sure it was helping anything.  Getting them to realize that school had not suddenly become optional was harder than I had anticipated.  Some days we all melted down (yes, Mommy included), and on those days I questioned how this could be God's answer.  Was this really His plan? 

I constantly tortured myself with questions.

What if they are behind their peers?   (It turns out that in most all areas, they were ahead.)

What if they aren't doing enough crafts?  (December was spent doing not much else.)

What if they miss their friends?  (Between church and play dates, they saw them plenty.)

What if the all- important state tests don't go well at the end of the year?  (All-important? Really?)

and the WORST....the one lurking behind all of the others.....

What if I fail them? 

There's the monster.  Failure.  The boogie man in the closet of my life whose delight is my fear-stricken soul, my paralysis at the very thought of him.

But at some point during the Christmas season, which had always been too frantically busy for us to slow down, something began to unravel in us.  The sense of urgent panic, the feeling that we must always be in a race against the clock, was leaving us.  Peace was coming into our home.  I began to put the rough places we had experienced into perspective.  We were completing a season of "cultural detox."  The schedule-chasing, the peace-stealing urgency.....they were gone. 

We went on a Christmas scavenger hunt downtown that ended with hot cocoa.

We studied what makes the Seasons happen.

We had friends over and made ornaments. 

We had other friends over and made cookies.

We talked, REALLY talked, about the Christmas story.

We hugged more.  We laughed more.  We listened more.

I told my daughters about their Enemy, why he hated them, and the lies he would always try to make them believe, why they must always choose to believe God's voice no matter how things look. I began to feel like a warrior fighting in a real battle.  On the winning side!!  The fear of failure, that threatening monster, completely vanished. I began to feel like I was a force he should be afraid of instead.

When January came, we started planning "Family Nights."  We let the girls plan our first one.  They put on a show with the karaoke machine they'd gotten for Christmas.  The younger was too shy to sing in a show just yet, so she decorated the room, made programs and handed them out, complete with her own beautiful kindergarten artwork.  ;)  The oldest (the insecure, angry one who had seemed so lost before) performed.  And I don't mean she halfway sung a few songs with her head down, like we'd have been lucky to see a few months earlier.  No, she was back!  Her eyes lit up. She danced.  She sang every word with emotion and conviction and clearly planned choreographed moves that acted out the words she was singing!!  Her sister clapped and cheered and encouraged her from the depths of her sweet little heart.  We were witnessing the work of God, and it was surreal.

Then came the last song.  As she sang it, I cried.  It was the voice of God using song lyrics to assure and encourage us from His heart, settling all my worries and doubts with His promises. And my heart was echoing the words to my beautiful daughter, promising her in turn that I would be right here, and whatever it was.....because of God's grace, she could heal. 

Hold on to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
Although this way be stringing us along
Just know you're not alone
Cuz I'm gonna make this place your home.

Settle down, it'll all be clear.
Don't pay no mind to the demons, they'll fill you with fear.
The trouble, it might drag you down.
If you get lost, you can always be found.
Just know you're not alone.
Cuz I'm gonna make this place your home.

Home.  The name of that song and the name of our school, where the teacher is learning and growing as much as and alongside her students.  Ya know, this crazy plan is gonna work after all.