Fourth Thursday in November

HI!

Man, It’s been SO long since I wrote because writer’s block is a real thing, and I have been crazy busy.

I had two jobs for a while and continue to homeschool plus all the other things. I am down to one job now, but it’s one I absolutely love so it all works well.

ANYWAYS, that’s not what this is about…

Today is a day celebrated across the United States by most people whether or not they are religious, and even if people don’t celebrate, most places are closed so they observe some kind of down time and hopefully some great food.

BUT, days and holidays like this can also be hard and lonely for so many, including my little family.

Up until 2019, my family had mostly spent the holidays in the same place, but that has all changed.

Circumstances happened and we had to make a difficult decision to not attend family functions there anymore, and while I will never regret our decision and we have absolutely no conviction over making this decision because we know without a doubt it was right, it is still hard.

Now, don’t get me wrong, as I spend the day with my little family, I can literally think of zero things in this world I would rather be doing.

Yesterday, Noah made the mashed potatoes, Myrah made some individual chocolate pies, I made a ham and sweet potatoes, and Isaiah helped us by cleaning as we went.

Today, we finished by Scott making the chicken, he and Isaiah making the macaroni and cheese, and whatever else we had was prepped and done, and we all worked together and did it.

There was no fighting.

There were no hurt feelings.

My kids never felt uncomfortable.

I never felt like I needed to hide quietly in a corner.

We made our breakfast and ate.

We watched the parade and movies together all day long.

We cooked and ate supper while also watching movies.

Everyone helped clean up, and now they are kind of doing their own thing and all is peaceful.

It was a beautiful day and has been every year for the past three years.

Beautiful and peaceful and we are all still in good mental health after.

BUT sometimes I get sad and mourn what my kids are missing.

We have made our own traditions now and I will forever cling to them and hold my kids to them as long as they will let me lol, but I still mourn what they miss.

I mourn not because I am convicted over the decision we made to protect our family, but over the fact that our children understand and agree with our decision and because they understand, it means they know we did the right thing as well, which in turn means they know what was wrong.

Walking away from relationships is never an easy thing to do, especially when there are kids involved, but sometimes it is necessary for their health and well-being, and ours (or sometimes maybe only ours).

I mourn that they can’t be close with people we would love to be close with because of these situations.

In this mourning, we do find comfort, though, and it’s truly amazing.

It’s amazing that we can find comfort in times like these: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (MTH 11:28-30 ESV).

And earlier in Matthew, you can find Jesus saying that those who mourn will be comforted (5:4), and while we ALWAYS attribute this to a funeral mourning, it doesn’t only have to apply in that context.

Many things can be mourned, and loss of a relationship is definitely one of those things.

So, my encouragement to you during this time is this, if you have had to end relationships for the sake of your health (mental/physical/emotional/spiritual-doesn’t matter, it applies), know that you are not wrong, or alone.

I know you will hear people say things like “Jesus says to forgive” and “you’re supposed to turn the other cheek” but let me reassure you with some context.

So, yeah, you can hop over to Luke and find in chapter 17 where we are told to “forgive if your brother sins” BUT SO OFTEN the entire rest of the verse is left out. SO, let’s add that: “If your brother sins, rebuke him, and IF HE REPENTS, forgive him” (v3-emphasis added by me).

Oh, snap. IF HE REPENTS, and let’s just remember that “he” is a general pronoun here, kind of like “they”.

So, let’s talk about turning the other cheek because we all know that one is overused in abusive ways as well.

So, turn the other cheek, doesn’t that mean I have to keep turning the other cheek every time someone does me wrong?

Ha, well, sure, but not in the way you think. The writers over at GotQuestions explain it so well, here is a brief quote: “To “turn the other cheek” does not mean we place ourselves or others in danger or that we ignore injustice. When we are the objects of personal slights (“slaps on the cheek”), our first response is not to retaliate in kind.”

They go on to say: “Did someone insult you? Let him, Jesus says. Are you shocked and offended? Don’t be. And don’t return insult for insult. Turn the other cheek.”

So, to put it simply, essentially turning the other cheek is more about not seeking revenge (don’t forget: “I will repay, says the Lord”).

How many times has someone done us wrong and all we want to do is either go to them and defend ourselves then go on the offense, or go to others and defend ourselves to them?

TRUST ME, I have been there!

In my life, something awful happened, and I wanted to call everyone and let them know what happened before the other person could, and I even wanted to tell them to ask my kids (since they were unfortunate witnesses to the event), but I never did.

I stayed silent on the matter.

If someone asked, I would give some small details or say something generic regarding the situation, but I did not defend myself and I did not seek out revenge.

And it was HARD.

It still is some days.

BUT those who know me and who truly love and care about me will ask and when they hear my response (which will generally be the generic response I spoke of), I hope they will understand that I don’t feel the need to defend myself and that I don’t plan on adding to any gossip.

We have walked away from the situation, the door is closed, and that’s that.

Let’s go back to forgiveness real quick, because that is important.

Can you forgive someone and still walk away from the relationship?

The answer is yes.

Remember, you don’t have to stay in a toxic relationship (I don’t just mean a partner, I mean ANY relationship with any family member or so-called friend), for the sake of forgiveness.

Forgiveness does not mean you have to continue to allow yourself and/or your loved ones to be treated badly.

It is perfectly okay to say, “I forgive you, but I am leaving this relationship”.

Guess what, you don’t need to explain that any further, either.

Oh, they’ll want explanation, but having a long conversation may not always be in your best interest, especially in cases of dealing with an abuser.

They already know the reasons you have for leaving the relationship, they want you to engage in a conversation with them because it reopens the door to power for them.

Keep it closed.

Walk away.

And go find a great friend or loved one who will help you wipe your tears and pick yourself up, because remember, it is also okay to mourn the loss of that relationship.

Mourning does not mean you are wrong, it just means you understand that you made a huge, life altering decision and things are forever changed.

It’s scary, but it’s also okay.

So, with all that said, I am giving you hope this holiday season.

The holidays are hard for most everyone, even if you love this time of year, but take the hope I offer, please.

Take this hope and know that if you must make an impossible decision to walk away from a relationship that is causing you harm in some way, next year you will feel better.

Then the next year will feel even better.

And you will make new traditions with loved ones who you can have healthy relationships with.

You can go from hurt to healing and you truly can have a happy holiday.

And remember, if you are struggling, the Suicide and Crisis hotline is available by calling or texting 988 and you can find assistance from United Way by dialing 211.

You can also text HOME to 741741 anytime and get a live response from a trained Crisis Counselor.

Don’t suffer alone, please.

You are loved and there is hope.

You are strong.

Love

Ceci

Do the RIGHT Thing

I have a migraine so I should not be typing, but alas, here I am because I also cannot sleep.

Go figure.

I got out of bed with a clear plan of what I wanted to write about, but in my migraine fog, I have since forgotten it.

What I will talk about instead, though, is doing the right thing.

So, Myrah has this time out chair that I found for her years ago that has a quote on it; it says: “Do the right thing even when no one is looking”.

The funny thing is, while I am nowhere near perfect, I do feel like I have lived by this motto to the best of my ability, so, when I encounter someone doing the wrong thing, I usually tend to take it personally.

That brings me to this past Monday. It was a rough day.

It was one of those days when you know you have to confront someone about something and no matter how hard you try to make it not a confrontation, there is really no way to avoid it.

Yeah, that is what I got to do.

Fun times.

Again, please remember the kind of person I am…I like to keep peace. I like to make people happy. I am absolutely a people pleaser to the detriment of my own mental health and wellbeing.

BUT sometimes an issue comes up that is such a big deal you simply cannot overlook the issue, and that is what I was/am dealing with.

I cannot really speak to the exact situation or where it occurred, mostly because at this time I am trying to give people the benefit of the doubt.

You see, sometimes you see someone doing something wrong, and because we live in a world that has a lot of blurred lines and gray areas, you have to consider that they may not know they are doing something wrong.

That is literally the situation I have been dealing with (and actually putting off dealing with for months because I liked the people involved and did not want to deal with it, honestly).

So, I handled the situation with words, because if I am good at anything, we all know it is using words.

Not only did I use words, I used written words (because sometimes a paper trail is necessary and because as good as I am at speaking, I am even better when I can write and rewrite).

I spent three weeks drafting a letter and writing and rewriting it just to make sure that every word was as grace filled as I could possibly get it.

I scoured the letter trying to make sure I was coming across as someone who was giving the benefit of the doubt and not accusing.

I tried my best to convey my level of respect for the recipient of the letter practically begging them to understand that I was in no way trying to attack them, but that I was actually trying to protect them because I genuinely thought perhaps, they were not as familiar with this particular area as I am because I have had several years of experience dealing with it.

And this was a lesson on the fact that sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you don’t always succeed.

That doesn’t mean you fail; it just means you did not succeed.

I don’t believe I wrote words that could have been misread or misunderstood.

I was clear in saying that there was no need for defensiveness and so clear in my respect for the recipient that I mentioned that in particular four times.

I tried my very best with gentle words to be humble and even apologized for bringing the subject up, though I firmly believe (and this is after counsel with others) that I did, in fact, do the right thing.

But it was not taken well.

And friends, if you know me, you know that I have a hard time when people are upset with me.

I truly believe that we are to “live at peace with everyone [as far as it depends on me]”.

While I talk a lot, I am not a gossip.

I do not try to stir up trouble.

I try to be transparent.

So, this situation is keeping me up at night right now and all I can do is continue to recite those passages in Romans 12 to remind myself to “not repay evil for evil” and to “live in harmony with one another, do not be proud”.

What I really want to do right now is to go defend myself, even though I really have no reason to defend myself.

What I want to do is shout out to everyone who may be involved that I sought counsel before this was done and that I tried my best to use respect and grace and kindness, and I was given rudeness, bitterness and coldness in return.

And what I want to ask God is why am I the type of person that I let this keep me up at night?

Why does this even bother me?

I went out on a limb to try to help someone avoid legal trouble, and I did this after seeking counsel from several people (one of whom is a lawyer), so I did not take this lightly.

I never take confrontation lightly, actually.

But I wanted to save someone from something, and I am somehow the bad guy, and it stinks.

But realistically, why should I even care?

Seriously, why?

Why did God make me like this (lol…kinda)?

Sometimes I wish I could be one of those people who just say their piece and walk away.

Or even one of those people who could walk away without saying anything at all…even better, right?

But nope, God was like “nah, I need someone to care about all the people in all the ways and I need those people to care enough so that they make up for the ones who don’t”.

I mean, I obviously am not really putting words in God’s mouth or blaspheming or anything, but man, sometimes I seriously feel like that.

I know God made me this way for His reasons and to glorify Him, but gosh it’s hard sometimes.

Like, do I have to feel ALL THE THINGS?

So, friends, why am I bringing this to you tonight? Well, just to encourage you. Sometimes…scratch that, ALL the time, doing the right thing is harder, but we should be doing the right thing, even when no one is watching.

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourself. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.

Be with God’s people who are in need and practice hospitality. Bless those who curse you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice, mourn with those who mourn.

Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, stay at peace with everyone.

Do not take revenge my friends but leave room for God’s wrath. For it is written “it is mine to avenge, I will repay” says the Lord. On the contrary, if your enemy is hungry feed him, if he’s thirsty, give him something to drink; in doing this you will heap burning coals on his head.
Do not be overcome by evil but overcome evil with good.”

Practice these things, friend.

It’s hard, trust me, I know, but it will pay off.

Do the right thing, even when no one is looking, and even at the expense of your name because those who know and respect you will care enough to ask you about it.

And if you confront someone for doing the wrong thing and you know you did it the right way, try to get sleep, it’s out of your hands.

Love

Ceci

Noah’s 13!

Yes, we have a little mess, but that’s real life. How fun will this be for him to see tomorrow, though!

Forgive me as this post is a bit…messy…I am all in my feelings tonight! Try to enjoy, and if you don’t, there is no requirement to read lol!

So, it is 11:30 at night and Noah’s 13^th birthday is tomorrow.

And I am still awake.

I remember this night thirteen years ago as we drove out to stay near the hospital so we could be there before the sun.

Noah’s birth was a planned c-section (for safety reasons, not that it matters) and his birth was by FAR the easiest one I had.

He was always special, I mean, God put him here and CHOSE me and Scott to be his parents, sometimes I wonder why God chose us to be parents at all, but (as Scott loves to say), it was ‘predestined’ lol.

Parenting Noah (or any child) is definitely not always easy, but it is definitely always worth it.

So, why am I sitting here writing this when I should be in bed?

Well, because my baby boy is turning 13 tomorrow, this crybaby momma is not sleeping much tonight, and since I am not sleeping, I shall write.

Also, I am still up because Noah was trying to outwait me because he knows I had a little something for him to open in the morning.

You see, we usually get the kids something major or do something kinda big for their birthdays, but I have NEVER let my kids wake up on their birthday morning without something to open.

Now, I don’t want this to pressure anyone in any way, you celebrate how you choose and however your family likes it, this is just a tradition for our family.

They usually get one “big” gift, but they ALWAYS wake up to some kind of “little” gift.

This year, Noah wants ducks.

You read that correctly, ducks.

I have tried to talk him out of it, but he will not be swayed, so his “big” gift will be ducks and whatever we need to take care of those ducks.

To answer your question, yes, I am crazy. Scott must be too lol!

BUT we are taking him to get ducks tomorrow, SO, what in the world was I going to have for him to open?

You see, I have many gifts, but gift giving is not really one of them.

Acts of service are my big thing, you will read more about that in a sec, but yeah, I had no physical gift for him still today!

SO, as I left the library, I started texting Isaiah…the real person to blame here is Noah lol.

Until last week we had a solid plan for a gift because he had been talking about wanting this other thing for quite a while.

SO, I was set to get one of two other more expensive things for him, I just had to decide between the two.

THEN, we go to the feed store, and he sees ducks and literally starts begging for a duck.

WHAT *cue panic*…a DUCK?

GAH!

Fine, Scott and I tentatively agree to let him think on it a few days and tell him he has to find something to keep them in while they are inside and research what he needs and yadda yadda.

IF he still wants a duck after all that, we will get him a duck (and yes, we will get more than one, we know they need buddies).

Yesterday he still wanted a duck.

Today he still wanted a duck.

SO, tomorrow we will go get a duck, but I am still stuck in a dilemma where I now have no idea of what kind of small gift I am going to get him to open!

The other gift ideas had accessories I could get as small gifts lol!
BUT, then I remember he wants a swinging hammock chair thing (yes, that is my professional description).

SO, I am in the W store we all love to hate texting Isaiah frantically as I search aisles and send pics when I finally come upon the chair. The ONE chair they have.

Yup. Got it.

Again, how, and why am I here writing if that’s where the story ends up?

Well, because it’s a big box so I had to get something to wrap it.

Pro tip: those big cheap tablecloths make okay wrapping for bulky gifts! I got a Star Wars themed one.

I digress.

So, as I was sitting in the dark wrapping this and putting up the décor I bought I was just overcome with emotion (I know, so hard to believe) that I knew I needed to write.

The reality is that my childhood was very traumatic for most of the years that I was a child, and no matter how old I am, that trauma still haunts me in some ways today.

I KNOW that my preference for making sure my kids have a gift to unwrap and have some kind of décor on their birthday is because of my childhood, but that does not mean it’s bad.

Sometimes our trauma can bring about traditions that we create for our families that can live on in a good way and break the cycle.

(As always, I want to reiterate that my mom and I have a good relationship and that I believe my mom did the best she could with her circumstances, as we all do. She knows what I write about, and this will not offend her…love you, mom😊).

Anyways, I am breaking the cycle.

The cycle has to be broken somewhere, and I am the breaking point for my little family and setting up these little birthday decorations and having something for my kids to open is just a part of that for me.

BUT, for my kids, it’s one of their favorite traditions.

They don’t have to say it for me to know, either.

I know when they go to bed that they know they will wake up to some kind of surprise on their birthday morning, and one day, I won’t be able to wake up in their house anymore…that hits hard.

One day, it will be the morning of their birthday and I won’t be there when they wake up to have $5 worth of wasted cardboard and plastic decorations hanging from the curtain rod and doorways.

BUT, one day, they will have their first child and my prayer is that they remember these little things and continue them as traditions in their own homes.

You see, we put so much pressure on ourselves to be IG great or Pinterest perfect, but that is not what our children are going to remember.

I literally spent five dollars on this bag that had a banner and a few things with swirly do dads on it to hang around the front room.

That’s it.

BUT, one thing Noah said to me the other day made it worth it…he told me he couldn’t wait to wake up on his birthday and see…he literally said it was one of his favorite things, but he never actually finished the sentence.

He didn’t have to say what he couldn’t wait to see because I already knew what he meant, and that just made my heart so happy.

So, friends. Moms. Dads. Grandparents who are raising their kids’ kids…just remember that all the physical things will fade one day.

The chair will eventually break down and get thrown away.

These little do dads hanging all over the place will be in the trash next week.

Noah probably won’t even remember what he got for this 13^th birthday when he is 23, but he will remember the love his parents put into him.

He will remember the time we took (and will take) to make him feel important and special and loved.

He will know we prayed over him through the bad times and the praised God in the good times.

He will absolutely know he was loved.

We don’t have much, and we have lost a lot over the years, but we still have love and that is strong.

So, to my dear Noah:

I hope one day you do read this, and you never doubt how loved you are.

And to anyone reading this thinking that any little thing they do isn’t enough, please know that it is.

Grand is great once in a while, but all the little things add up.

Little things are how people know you listen and truly hear them.

Pinterest forgot to tell you that, that’s why I’m here 😉

“So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest is love” (1 Corinthians 13:13).

My words will fail one day, but my love will remain.

Love

Ceci

Plagiarism

I know I have not written in a while, that is a whole other post as well, but I have been BUSY. The good news is that I do have some things in drafts almost ready to go, but MAN, life has been crazy.

In a good way, and I can’t wait to tell you about it, but FIRST:

I want to talk about plagiarism for a moment because, as a hobby writer, however measly my little corner of the world may seem, this is a sensitive topic very close to my heart, you see, what most of you don’t know is that I obviously write here, but I started with poetry, and I recently wrote a children’s story that Myrah will be illustrating.

So, plagiarism is a big deal, not just to me, but to anyone who works hard to put their thoughts on paper in any form.

It’s an art and it is hard work.

If you think a writer just sits down and jots even something as small as a blog post in a few minutes, you’re wrong. There is a lot more to it, but I digress.

So, you may have heard that in the news lately, the writer of one of my favorite musicals centered around the life of one of the so called “founding fathers” is suing a church for misuse of his music and writings.

Essentially, the lawsuit is for “unauthorized use and performance of” or “unauthorized staging” (according to CBS) of his work.

Now, in accordance with the law, the writer sent a cease-and-desist letter to the church BUT he granted conditions that they could do the performance but it could “not be live streamed, recorded, or shared on social media in photo or video form”.

Guess what the church in question did?

If you guessed that they not only performed it (changing the words to fit their own preference) but they also, in fact, shared the production on social media to include a sermon of sorts that does not align with the writer’s beliefs.

Now, there are a few problems with this, and the first one is simply that the church broke the law.

I have seen so many people cry out how awful this writer is for suing a church, but pastors have in the past and currently are suing people for plagiarism (a popular rapper-turned self-proclaimed church founder is currently being sued by a pastor in Texas for plagiarism).

I mean, it boils down to theft, which as we know is against the old law that was carried over by Christ into the New Testament and we are instructed to follow: Exodus 20:15 “You shall not steal”.

Plagiarism is stealing.

Using someone’s work without permission is stealing.

The next issue is that as Christians, we try (as we should) to be so careful to NOT change the Word of God to fit what we want it to say.

Interpretation is one thing, but as an escapee of a fundamentalist cult, I can assure you that it is easy to make the Bible seem like it is saying one thing when it is really saying another.

We get SO ANGRY when people do this, as we should! It’s abuse of the Word and generally is followed by spiritual abuse of a person or people.

SO, if we want to ensure that God’s Word is not changed to fit our needs, we need to set an example by not changing the words to other works to fit our needs.

I LOVE this musical, BUT it is not something I would ever watch in church.

There is language in it that I don’t typically use and don’t want my kids to say, and there are adult themes in it that many practicing Christians are not comfortable with.

The solution to this is to not show it in a church setting, it isn’t appropriate.

There are many other things I would not show in church, and that’s okay-Christian liberty is a thing, but that’s also another post.

So, to take a musical like the one in question and try to change it to fit your needs makes you a hypocrite.

Period.

Here’s the thing, if there are things you have to change about something in order to show it in church, you probably just shouldn’t be showing it in church.

Showing a popular musical in order to gain “followers” is not the way to “win” people to Christ.

Being a Christian is not a popularity contest and you should not be in ministry for the numbers.

If you need to use a musical (which you had to steal and significantly change) to get people through your doors, you need to rethink why your doors are open.

Being a Christian is not easy and using flashy attention grabbers is not the way to evangelize or disciple people.

You are not furthering any cause by showing a stolen version of a musical to an audience who now thinks that is the nature of the church.

Your first example to visitors has been theft.

NOT ONLY THEFT but changing the work you stole to make it fit your purpose.

Make it make sense!

SO, in accordance with the Ten Commandments (quoted above), the commands given by Christ- “Do not think I have come to abolish the Law…” (Matthew 5:17), and instructions given by Paul, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God” (Romans 13:1), don’t steal.

Changing words to a well-known musical is not that hard, you know what is hard? Finding new ways to encourage people that they can walk into the doors of the church without fear of being turned away because of how they look or what their past looks like.

You know what is hard? Coming up with ideas to get kids excited to come to church and figuring out how to find enough people within your own church to fill the need of volunteers to accomplish those things.

You know what is hard? Knowing when you should walk by someone and continue sharing God’s Word, or when you should just walk by them in silence praying that the Spirit works in their hearts because you don’t know if you have the right words to reach them where they are at.

A stolen musical is not the answer here, but we have the answer.

Christians, we have a Guidebook, why aren’t we using it?

Let us rethink our approach, because if we are breaking the law to get people through the doors, we are definitely NOT doing it right.

Love Ceci

See the Forest

So, sometimes I have to think hard and wonder what I am going to write about, but most times a thought hits me and I just know I have to share.

I want to share so you can smile, laugh, or feel comforted.

Sometimes I share something for inspiration, always I share in hopes of helping someone in some way.

Today I share for all the reasons.

I had this thought as I was doing something and it just made me giggle and I knew I had to share not only to share the giggle, but also to encourage other parents who are feeling the same, I especially feel like I can relate to other moms, as I am one.

SO, today I finally (to my children’s delight) finished setting up our seasonal pool, which is a chore, actually I am surprised I am able to type because I broke off all my poor nails and my fingertips are so sore!

I digress.

So, I was outside in the pool which at this point just has a few inches of water in it so that I can pull out all the wrinkles in the bottom of the liner.

Seriously, it’s a chore. It’s a workout. I don’t advise it LOL.

As I am doing this, Myrah is in there with me living her best life in a few inches of not so clean or cool water at the bottom of a quick set pool as only a young child can.

She has her sun hat and swimsuit and is just rolling and playing and, well, all the things that kids do in the water that we grown ups often forget are fun.

Again, with the digressing. Sorry.

As she is playing, I feel myself getting annoyed and I looked at her and told her that sometimes I feel like the Little Red Hen from the children’s story.

You know her, right?

Well, if not, let me tell you a teensy bit, and encourage you to find the story and read it.

The Little Red Hen wanted to make some bread so she began asking all the other farm animals if they would help her.

Each step of the way she asked for help.

She was grinding flour and got no help.

She was kneading dough and got no help.

She was baking in the heat and got not help.

THEN, the bread was warm and ready to eat and guess what? Every single animal on the farm was lined up wanting some fresh baked bread!

I am not going to tell you if she shared or not, you need to read the story.

BUT I told Myrah that I really felt like that Red Hen, doing all the work nobody wants to do but everybody wants to reap the benefits from.

And parenthood in general can feel like that.

I think whether you are the default parent or the full-time working parent (or both) that parenthood can often feel so thankless because we all really do work so hard so that others can reap all the benefits.

And the thing is, we are always made to feel guilty for feeling the way I felt today.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely said this in jest when I said it, but I repeated it to the boys later and they actually agreed with me.

I worked hard today both for my paying job and for my family, and one pays to my bank account, but the other one seems to have very little return on the investment some days.

And then I look at my life and think that the same thing can be said about me overall.

I have spent time lately mulling over the fact that when we see our lives, we see the trees, but we don’t see the entire forest.

We miss a lot of the beauty in our life because we only see the immediate; we only see what is right in front of us and not the end goal.

Sometimes the process, or journey, is beautiful, sometimes it is not, but always the end goal is purposeful.

So, as I likened myself to the Little Red Hen today with my trivial task of stretching out the vinyl on the bottom of a swimming pool, tonight I realize there’s so much more to it than that.

I could have easily sent Myrah away today as I worked, but I let her stay and play as I worked.

Myrah saw me work hard to do something that would bring a little bit of fun and family time to our lives during these hot summer months in Central Oklahoma.

Myrah saw a mother committing to a labor of love at the cost of her own fingernails (not my real ones, don’t worry) and one day, she will remember these times, not that I broke nails, but that we were together.

These times are hard.

It isn’t just hard when they are babies, it’s hard when they are older too.

My children are currently 17, 12, and 7 and every stage has had struggles with every child.

I KNOW I am not always a great mom. I KNOW I fail.

I know my house is not always the tidiest (let’s be real, it’s NEVER the tidiest house of all the moms I know lol).

Some nights (like tonight) I go to bed with a few dishes in the sink.

Some days I see the dust that needs wiped and I just don’t have it in me to wipe it.

Some days I can see the immense amount of dog hair in the carpet, but I just can’t vacuum it.

It isn’t always a job where people remember to say thank you, and sometimes that annoys me even though it shouldn’t.

But that’s the real part of it.

It’s okay that sometimes we feel like that Red Hen-that sometimes we feel as though we are doing the work for all the farm, and nobody is willing to help.

And it’s even okay to feel annoyed by that.

BUT I also want to encourage you to remember that these years fly by.

Isaiah is 17 years old, but just yesterday I was laying in the hospital while my nephew sang at my feet and my loved ones looked on at baby Isaiah.

These days feel thankless because they are right in front of our face.

These days feel long because we toil so hard from sunup to sundown and longer for our families.

But one day we really will look back and wonder how our baby is almost a grown up.

We are very much like the Little Red Hen, but our families are not like the thankless farm animals, not if we teach them not to be.

You see, I did work hard on the pool today, but my family will appreciate it.

My family will help me keep it clean and kept up through the summer.

I put pork in the crock pot today for supper tonight, Isaiah made the nacho cheese, and Noah chopped up the pork for tacos (because my arms were too tired from the pool lol-true story).

Some days I wake up and my tasks seem daunting, and some days I work so hard that my tasks are daunting, but, unlike that hen, I do have a family here who is willing to help.

And it is so beautiful.

Today, I saw the forest. An ariel view, I think.

And it was beautiful.

So, it’s okay to feel like that hen, because sometimes we really do a work that is unappreciated while we do it, but everyone reaps the benefits.

It’s okay to feel discouraged.

It’s okay to feel annoyed.

But just remember, it’s only one day.

One day in the years that will fly by.

And one day, later in those years, you will get a glimpse of that forest and you will realize how beautiful it is.

All that work is not in vain.

Pat yourself on the back and remember that the forest is beautiful, and you help cultivate every tree in it.

“The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you. He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing” (Zephaniah 3:17).

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:21-23).

Love

Ceci

Rahab Thoughts

Rahab Thoughts

Have you ever been doing a study or even just reading and just been so stricken with something you had to stop and take time to research the subject (or in this case, the person)?

Well, I recently started a Bible study in Joshua and tonight began in chapter 2 which is where we are introduced to Rahab.

Rahab.

As my sweet friend from church would say “she is one of God’s girls and He loves His girls”!

Rahab the prostitute is how we are introduced to her.

That is the back story we have.

Literally, it reads: “and they went and came into the house of a prostitute whose name was Rahab” (Joshua 2:1).

Imagine that for a moment.

What do you think of when you think of a prostitute? It isn’t usually a pretty picture, is it?

We could have been introduced to her as Rahab mother to Boaz.

Or Rahab ancestor of Jesus.

Or even just Rahab, a woman who lived on the outer wall of the city.

BUT we are introduced to her as being a prostitute. So, how can this possibly be helpful to me?

How can I read the account of Rahab being a prostitute and be inspired?

Well, how can someone who was perceived so badly have been destined to do something so wonderful?

Rahab the prostitute was the savior of Joshua’s two spies he sent into the city.

This woman lived among Gentiles-people who had worshipped all kinds of gods, people who did all kinds of things and had all kinds of beliefs EXCEPT in GOD.

Jericho was considered a pretty vile place in religious terms (and probably secular as well), so Joshua needed to take Jericho to make a point (I mean, more words, but that’s the concept).

BUT why did the two men choose Rahab’s house? I mean, we know it was on the outer wall, so convenient in that way, but there had to be many others on the outer wall, so why her?

(Ah, omniscience-again).

Well, the obvious answer is “why not?”

BUT, if we dig deeper, we can find a few not as obvious but probable answers.

SO, why would they choose the home of a prostitute? Perhaps they thought the soldiers would not seek them in her home which bought them more time to hide.

Perhaps they realized that a couple of strange men going to the home of a prostitute would not turn any heads, so they took refuge and again, it bought them time to hide.

OR maybe it was just a really good location.

Whatever the reason, they chose Rahab’s house, and she did hide them. In the “stalks of flax” that were on her roof (I would guess they needed several stalks deep on all the roofs to keep safe and sheltered).

And what is even more amazing, she trusted these men.

I cannot imagine a prostitute would easily trust any man, but she trusted these men AND she trusted God.

It’s amazing to read. She lived in a world that was completely opposite of what Moses and the Israelites had been living, but she was able to tell Joshua’s spies all the things Moses did.

She told the spies that she KNEW what the Lord had done for them. She didn’t “think”, she KNEW. She didn’t guess, she KNEW. She hadn’t just heard the stories; she KNEW they were true!

I love the words she uses “for we have heard how the Lord dried up the water of the Red Sea before you when you came out of Egypt, and what you did to the two kings of the Amorites who were beyond the Jordan…and as soon as we heard it, OUR HEARTS MELTED, and there was no spirit left in any man because of  you, for the Lord your God, He is God in the heavens above and on the earth beneath” (Joshua 2:10-11).

Isn’t that beautiful. She says again, they knew the Lord was God in the heavens and earth and their hearts melted.

That’s kind of like when our hearts soften, well, that’s the phrase I use anyway.

When we look around us at the world so full of destruction and we feel the softness of God’s love in our heart. That’s our hearts melting.

Isn’t that beautiful?!

SO, we have this prostitute who fully believes in the same God the Israelites that she is saving believe in, and she saves them.

AND they return the favor with a promise of her and her family’s salvation so long as she places a red cord on the same window that she used to let them out of the city.

And she believes they will spare her family, and they did.

The entire city was destroyed, but Rahab’s entire family, everyone who was in her home, was spared.

EVERY SINGLE THING in the city was destroyed, busted to pieces and what could be burned was burned, but Rahab and her family were spared.

Now, it’s important to note that this took place over a period of time. This wasn’t like, she saved these two dudes, and the next day Joshua came and blew the city up.

It was a while before they came back.

The Israelites had to cross the Jordan, they had to set up some stones to represent the 12 tribes, they observed a Passover during this time…this was not a weekend trip. It took MONTHS.

And yet, the prostitute was saved.

Joshua and his army did not forget the promise they made, and Rahab did not forget they made the promise. If she had forgotten, her family would have died because everyone had to be inside her house to be save, but she remembered, and they were all saved.

Rahab the prostitute.

But also, Rahab the savior of the two spies. Rahab the woman who, in accordance with God’s plan, helped Joshua take the Promised Land, because without her help, the spies would have been found and killed and the plan would not have been carried out.

Rahab, the mother of Boaz. Boaz who married Ruth who gave birth to Obed who was Jesse’s father who was the father of David.

Rahab, the prostitute is in Jesus’ family tree.

Wow.

And here I am thinking I don’t matter.

Here I have been sitting in my pity thinking that my words don’t mean anything or change anything.

Here I am wondering what God could possibly want with me.

Why has he put in the place(s) he has?

Why did he give me the ideas I have?

Why did I ever feel a call on my heart to do work He may be leading me to do?

And how could I possibly be worthy when I am a nobody?

But look at Rahab.

I am sure she would have been considered a nobody, though she had a reputation, I’m sure.

How surprised do you think people were when her life completely changed after she acknowledged her belief in God and trust in Him and the Israelites?

I can just imagine the look one people’s faces when they realized Rahab, “THAT Rahab” was being saved while the rest of the city was destroyed.

AND, Rahab, the prostitute is the great however many times grandma of Jesus.

And I am inspired by her.

Perhaps God really does have a plan for me.

I’ve walked away from Him but came back.

I’ve lost hope, but it has been renewed.

I sin, but I am still loved.

And what an encouragement that is for me tonight.

So, sleep tight, dear friend because you too are loved.

Love

Ceci

Encouragement on Father’s Day

I have written this over and over.

I have saved the drafts.

I just don’t know exactly what I want to say.

I just hope that this is an encouragement for all those who are having different feelings on holidays like this one.

I will say that writing this has been much harder than writing my Mother’s Day post because I have a weird history with father figures.

The first thing I want to say is that I had a stepdad who stepped in to be the dad I needed, and he gave me all he possibly could, and he is still my hero. I love him so much.

The next thing I want to emphasize is that my biological dad was not a bad man, we just never had a chance to build a relationship and I don’t believe either of us can take full responsibility for the circumstances surrounding that.

I do want to share is that I also love him, and I have respect for him.

I did not know him well, but I know that my brother is an amazing father, and our father was his daddy and that means something. With that being said, I mean zero disrespect to him when I talk of my daddy. I believe his legacy lives on in my brother and I love my brother very much.

See, weird history, and it gets more difficult because the father figure I did have in my early childhood years was abusive, so that was my start with fathers, which makes it a hard relationship in general for me.

So, it’s Father’s Day, and that day is hard for so many people including me.

I lost my dad almost two years ago (in one month and one day it will be two years, actually).

And in a strange turn of events (or maybe it isn’t strange, but it feels strange), several of the people I love have lost their dads and are observing their first Father’s Day without them.

And it’s hard.

Then there are those who don’t have a dad.

I mean, we know everyone must have a “father”, but we know not everyone has a FATHER/DAD.

And it is such a hard place to be.

It’s hard to celebrate a holiday like this when you are in mourning.

It’s also hard to celebrate this day when you simply don’t understand the sentiment behind it.

It’s hard to celebrate a holiday like this when you see “dad” as being some sort of mythical person that exists in fairy tales and rich people’s lives.

You see, we have historically made it a societal norm for dads to have an easy out.

I will not debate this, the resources are too abundant, and my saying this is not excusing any mother who has checked out either. If you want my take on that, see my Mother’s Day post.

So, we (collectively) have given men a way out with zero repercussions and leaving all the responsibility on the women and children left behind (it’s political and not really for this post, but it needs to be said and is relevant).

NOW, I am also not saying that every man who fathers a child chooses to be absent, my own husband and my brother and my brothers in law are all prime and immediate examples of men who are definitely not absent.

However, I am currently watching a turn of the century British show about an upstairs family and a downstairs group of people who serve the family (not naming the show for reasons, but if you know, you know lol).

In this show, a young maid was taken advantage of by a soldier while the famous house was being used as a recuperation center for soldiers during WWI.

Do you know what happened when she told that dude that she got pregnant as a result of both of their actions? He laughed at her and told her it wasn’t his problem, and he was right. It wasn’t.

I have also watched another show and read a book series of an era before the previous mentioned one that talks about the same kind of situation and how the woman is left bereft, and the child is called a bastard and has no standing in society regardless of the class they may have been born in.

In the same way, a woman who is caught in a “compromising” situation is said to be ruined while the man is said to simply be acting like a man.

And, honestly, it is not any different today (I could list DOZENS of examples, but I don’t have time for that, and you don’t want to read it).

I mean, why do you think society celebrates the most basic, everyday task that a father does as something outrageous?

“Dad did the dishes! Dad folded laundry! Dad ‘babysat’ the kids!”

These are basic needs that parents must meet, but our society celebrates anytime any dad does them because we have essentially lowered the bar (unnecessarily) for dads (again, we is a collective term, it isn’t an attack).

No wonder people are confused on how they should feel toward any father figure they may have in their lives.

I digress.

Have you ever sat in the greeting card section on a holiday like this and read the cards and just had every feeling in the world except the warm ones?

Have you ever read some cheesy line like “I’m not lion, you’re a grrrrreat Dad” and not been able to hold back either an eye roll or a tear rolling?

Father’s day is hard for some.

Not every person has a father.

Some dads do stick around, but some do not.

Some men step up when they don’t have to step up, and others run away.

Some men are there for a while, then one day they decide they don’t want to be anymore.

And sometimes, we are devastated by the loss of a man we call our hero.

I just want to share that there is hope and healing.

If you never had a man to call dad, you can change the narrative in your child’s life and break that cycle.

If you had a person who was a dad for awhile then chose to walk away, that is hard. Rejection by a parent feels like something you can never heal from, but healing can come.

If you lost your dad on earth to illness or accident or anything else that took him from here, that anguish that is overwhelming, one day, you will not feel like it’s suffocating you.

I have felt left behind.

I have been abused,

I have experienced anguish.

They all hurt so much and in so many different ways.

I remember for months after losing my dad, I would go to our laundry room late at night and look outside and just cry.

I still feel that anguish.

I remember when I thought my biological dad did not want me (this was proven untrue but not in time for us to build a relationship). I used to sit at a window as a young adult and mourn that loss.

And I have experienced abuse at the hands of a man I called dad.

That one is so very hard.

So, I share this simply to let you know, sweet friend, that I feel your pain today.

I feel your hurt.

I feel your confusion.

I understand your lack of understanding regarding this holiday.

But you are not alone.

“A father to the fatherless, a defender of the widows, is God in His holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families, He leads out the prisoners with singing…” (Psalm 68:5).

“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust” (Psalm 91:1-2).

“The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in Him” (Nahum 1:7).

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world!” (John 16:33).

This world is hard.

There has never been a guarantee that we will get out of this world easily, in fact, it’s actually promised that we won’t, but what a wonder that we have love in a good Father.

I am so far from perfect that the word runs from me, but I know there is a Perfect One who loves me.

I want to encourage you because I have struggled in my faith over the years. I think most who believe have, but please, be encouraged that tomorrow can be a brighter day, and you don’t have to struggle alone.

Be encouraged that there is healing.

Be encouraged that there is hope.

Be encouraged that there is peace.

Be encouraged that there is even forgiveness.

Just a note before I go: you do not have to let someone abusive back into to your life simply because you have allowed forgiveness to be present, but you can be free from the chains they have holding you.

You are not responsible for the choices that other people have made, but you can make it to where their choices don’t affect you in the future.

You are allowed to be safe.

You are allowed to mourn the loss of a relationship even if the person is still alive.

You are allowed to protect yourself.

Last, but certainly not least, if you have a dad who is present and available and here, I hope that you were able to celebrate his love for you in some way today.

I hope you were able to call or text or tell him to his face that he is a great father!

Unfortunately, we have illness running through our home, so our day was low-key, but Scott doesn’t usually mind.

He spent the day being a dad, and that is the whole point behind the day, right?

Love,

Ceci

A (not so quick) Word on Homelessness

An older pic of my kids at our dining table, because is there any room more “home” than a kitchen/dining room?

Usual disclaimer…I began writing Wednesday, I am finishing Saturday. Sometimes God works on my words. This week was one of those times.

So, I was spending some time praying tonight and as I was on my way to bed I started praying again (we are discussing prayer in women’s Bible study…can ya tell?), and as I was praying to God thanking Him for the house I have to live in, it hit me so hard just how much that specific prayer of thanks can mean, especially to someone who has been homeless.

You see, when I was about 17 and into me turning 18, I essentially “aged out” of the “foster” system. And at that same age, I was homeless for the first time.

Then, several years later, I went through an ordeal and had some circumstances happen and ended up homeless again.

Both instances happened before I was married and had children, and since it was just me, it was easy to find a couch to lay my head upon (and after a point when my dad found out what was going on, he insisted on me living with him and my mom until I graduated high school or beyond…he did not have a timeline, after that, I got the best roommate ever).

Then one day YEARS later after I was married and had two children, my husband found a lump in his arm.

He went to the doctor (well, doctors, but that’s another post).

So, that’s it, Scott had cancer.

Malignant.

Spindle Cell.

Triton Tumor.

Neurofibro.

Sarcoma.

These are words I learned within about 48 hours of his diagnosis; words that changed our lives.

You see, there were no sarcoma specialists in Oklahoma at that time. As a matter of fact, the surgeon in Oklahoma had NEVER seen this type of tumor in his entire career, and he sent us to Houston.

Oh, now you see where I am going, maybe…

We sold a ton of our stuff, gave away a ton of our stuff, and packed a ton of our stuff into a storage building where it would stay for the next few years.

And essentially, my family became homeless.

EXCEPT, that we had God watching over us and He had put people in our lives to take care of us.

My aunt had an empty house that needed someone to live in it, so, we moved a few things into this house “temporarily” while we readied ourselves for the next journey to Houston.

For about a year and a half with a few months in between here and there, we lived with another one of my aunts and uncle in a town just about 45 minutes from Houston.

Isn’t that crazy? That my aunt lived just a little way from a place in a different state where my husband had to get his cancer treatment and surgeries?

Seriously. Omniscience is astounding.

We were so blessed to have the right people in the right places with the right resources to take care of us (you have no idea how humbling that is until you have actually had to receive it…something else also talked about tonight!).

But before I knew what was going to happen to my family-before I knew that my aunt in Oklahoma had room for us at the inn, I was sick.

My family was going from a place where we had a very comfortable savings account and, while I complained about gas prices, I never had to choose between getting gas or milk, to a place where we literally relied on people to help feed our children.

Homelessness is one of the most devastating experiences a person can go through, and we (collectively) sit here and judge anyone who is (or claims to be, not my business) homeless for standing out on the corner holding a sign.

Have you ever been homeless?

Do you know what I would have done if I had no support and no way to feed my family and no roof over their heads?

I would have stood on the corner and held a sign.

If that is the only option I had, I would absolutely have done it.

You see, I was humbled beyond belief when my family received SO MUCH (and I mean SO MUCH, I could NEVER list all the ways we were blessed) support from those around us, but not everyone has that.

How many people have an aunt with a house that literally just came up empty weeks before we needed it?

How many people have an aunt who just happens to be living within an hour of the closest and one of the best sarcoma treatment centers in the United States?

I don’t love the house I have now.

I may not even like it some days, to be honest.

It’s bigger than any house I wanted.

It needs new cabinets.

It needs releveled.

The list goes on and gets more expensive as it goes!

BUT I have a house.

When I leave my house to go do something, I know I will have a place to come back to.

I know when it rains, I have shelter.

I know when my kids are sick, they have a bed, and they even have their own rooms.

I know when my family is hungry, we have a kitchen with food in it and electricity to power our appliances to keep that food cold or to cook that food.

And realizing these things really gives me an entirely new perspective.

It is so easy for us to judge the homeless population because there is a stigma that goes with it.

If you had seen me sleeping on a bench at McDonald’s when I was 17, how would you have judged me?

If you had seen me couch hopping when I was 22, how would you have judged me?

If my family had been truly without a home-with no place to go-in 2013, what unkind things would you have assumed about me and Scott and what kind of parents we must have been?

At that point in our lives, there was no addiction playing into our situation.

We were not abusive to each other or our children.

Our children weren’t neglected.

We were victims of our circumstances (and entirely unaffordable health care in our country, but again, different post).

But what would your judgement have been if you saw one of us with our two boys on the corner holding a sign saying “homeless, anything helps”?

And let me tell you something, as someone who has spent time on the streets, it isn’t hard to see why some of the homeless population will turn to drugs and alcohol to escape their reality.

Before even knowing how they got there we feel free to judge them for their situation, but even if it was their own actions that got them there, do they not deserve Grace?

And why would they want to live in a reality where the entire world tells them how worthless they are?

They already are disappointed in themselves, I can promise you that, they don’t need to be told by our words or our looks what we think of them.

We think of housing as a basic right, but in reality, it’s a luxury.

And do you know how terrifying the streets can be? Even in my smallish town?

Seriously.

In my city of approximately 31,000+ people, 4 in every thousand is homeless, and that number is modest as not every homeless person receives aid or shelter to be counted, and it does not account for children in specific youth only shelters.

In my state in January of 2020, there were approximately almost 4000 people who were homeless, again, those are the ones counted by the census/shelters/programs offered to the homeless population (https://www.usich.gov/homelessness-statistics/ok/ ).

In January 2020 Oklahoma City saw an uptick of 24% in homelessness, the largest increase since 2007 (https://www.oklahoman.com/story/news/columns/2020/07/02/oklahoma-citys-homeless-population-increases-24-largest-uptick-since-2007/60393712007/).

This does not include the homeless runaways in hiding, victims of domestic violence who are hiding, or any person who has been trafficked.

These numbers are from the United States Interagency Council on Homelessness (linked above) if you want to check.

And you all, Oklahoma is one of the least expensive states to live in, especially the housing market (though wages reflect that as well).

The causes of homelessness are not getting any better either-affordable housing, unemployment, poverty, and mental health are the top four reasons for homelessness according to homelesslaw.org.

Look at the world right now! I bought eggs from Aldi the other day and they were almost $2 a dozen. A month ago, that same dozen eggs was .68 cents.

Milk and gas are having a race to see who gets to $5 first in Oklahoma (I started writing this Wednesday, it’s Saturday now. Spoiler alert, gas won the race).

And jobs, well, they aren’t easy to come by right now and haven’t been since the start of the pandemic.

Scott was laid off in fall of 2019.

He was not able to find a job of any kind until the end of 2020 and that job did not last long.

He then found his current job, which, by the way is no less than a $10/hour pay cut, in Summer of 2021, I believe it was.

Again, we found ourselves going from the life of having a steady and good paying job with a cushioned savings to one of scraping by and living paycheck to paycheck.

And it was (and still is) hard.

If we had not had internet access for me to be able to work from home, I honestly don’t know what we would have done.

Homeless is rarely a choice.

I am sure some people choose it, maybe it is the lesser of two evils.

But rarely is it a choice.

You know we live in Oklahoma, we have tornadoes, crazy storms with straight line winds that can get up to 120mph, hail that can get up to baseball size and larger, freak winter storms, and excessive heat (the heat index today, June 11, got up to 103 I believe it was).

Would you really make a conscious choice to live in those elements instead of a home with central heat and air (or even a wall heater and window unit)?

The current housing market is on a dangerous trend all over.

We wanted to move, we knew we could sell our house and land for far more than we imagined when we began toying with the idea a few years ago.

Selling wasn’t the problem, buying was.

Not only are we still recovering our credit from the mountain of medical bills that cancer gifted us, but we would be taking a chance on being homeless again for not being able to find suitable housing with an affordable to us payment in the current economy.

I cannot imagine being a renter right now and not having housing security in the way that those with a mortgage have.

Our current mortgage payment went up $5 this year compared to last, and it is likely the insurance or taxes that we have rolled into our payment.

Renters don’t have that same level of security.

Once a lease is up, there is no requirement for the leaser to renew that lease. They are perfectly within their right to not renew and then they can change the rent and charge more for a new tenant.

What happens then?

Is it that renters fault they are homeless?

I mean, in the world today I can’t even blame the leaser for charging more, remember, I paid $5.05/gallon for gas in central Oklahoma yesterday.

So, not only as a Christian, but as a human with compassion and love for my fellow man, I ask you to have Grace.

“Whoever closes his ear to the cry of the poor will himself call out and not be answered” (Proverbs 21:13).

“If your brother becomes poor and cannot maintain himself with you, you shall support him as though he were a stranger and sojourner, and he shall live with you. Take no interest from him or profit, but fear your god, that your brother may live beside you” (Leviticus 25:35-36).

“Whoever oppresses a poor man insults his Maker, but he who is generous to the needy honors Him” (Proverbs 12:31).

“But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk, but in deed and in truth” (1 John 3:17-18).

“Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you” (James 2:5).

“Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality” (Romans 12:13).

“But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving might be done in secret” (Matthew 6: 3-4).

We have exhortation after exhortation in the Bible for us to feed the hungry, aid the widow, help the orphan, and remember the needy.

We are to minister to these people.

We are to love these people.

We don’t know how they got there, how can we possibly allow ourselves to think so highly of…ourselves…that we think we have the right to accuse anyone of anything?

There is a community out there crying for help, and they don’t need our judgement, they need to know God’s love.

Let us be the church (collectively) that reaches out.

Let us be the church that opens doors.

Let us be the church that helps someone heal.

We don’t have to put ourselves in dangerous situations to do this, though faith sometimes requires that of us, but we will often have to be in an uncomfortable position.

Learn to be comfortable being uncomfortable.

It’s okay to not give a homeless person money, I can understand the reasoning some people have behind that, but how about a hot meal?

What if you ate a meal with them and talked with them and learned about them?

What IF, just hear me out, what if a conversation with you over the first hot meal they have had in weeks saves their life?

What if that one hour you spent with them turns into a lifelong friendship?

Let’s reserve our judgement for when it’s needed.

Let’s soften our hearts and open them to the uncomfortable situations God puts us in to maybe change someone’s life.

You never know, that 17-year-old sleeping in McDonald’s that you passed judgement on could have been me.

And that 70-year-old man you see standing on the corner is someone’s son, brother, dad, or friend.

They have a story; your most valuable commodity is time.

Grab them some chicken and mashed potatoes and an hour of your time.

Love

Ceci

Why am I the way I am?

Wonderfully made

I actually have a ton of work to do right now, but I need to write for the sake of writing.

Writing is therapeutic for me-it is a way for me to get my thoughts out, for me to organize my mental musings, and a way for me to keep healthy mentally; and mental health is just as important (or more) as any other type of health.

Things are hard for me lately, and it isn’t any one thing that I can put my finger on, it is just several things that are adding up.

Do you ever have times like that?

Like, the “problems” you have seem so small, but the sheer amount of those little problems makes you feel as though your drowning…

That is me.

And really, a few of these things that feel so big are just so basic.

I started a new job and the agents I have taken on are VERY busy.

They do things VERY differently.

AND, they somehow think I know what I am doing (HAHAHA).

Have you ever been my age (like, 21-haha) and tried to learn new things and new ways to do old things and tried to remember who wants what thing done which way in a matter of hours?

I won’t say it is impossible, but it is definitely not easy!

Adding to that, because my workload has increased, my ability to keep up with the housework has decreased.

I have laundry for days.

Some days I have dishes for…well, not days, but overnight.

My house is by no means filthy, but it is certainly not tidy.

And the dog hair.

Oh, the dog hair.

Now, on top of the little work troubles and the little housework troubles, Myrah had strep recently and there was a mini Covid outbreak at our church, so we missed a couple weeks…again, little things, but they feel SO BIG.

AND, today, I sent a kiddo off to camp.

I will say, I did MUCH better sending him off this year than last, I think that is largely due to 1) our honorary Nanny is there to watch over him, and I trust the entire team that he is with (the student pastor at our church his family are treasures to our family).

And 2) because after I dropped him off, my sweet sister in Christ had me come over and she trimmed Scrappy’s nails for me (what an unexpected blessing) and then we sat for an hour or so and just went through our stuff for VBS.

She knows me so well; she probably did not even realize how much I needed the distraction. I have no idea how much I may have cut into her day, but she never complained or rushed me, she just sat and chatted and when I was ready, I left (thank you).

Now, did I really have time for that today? Probably not, BUT sometimes the command to “be still” does not mean we need to be still alone.

I needed to be still for just a little while today.

There have been other unmentioned stressors that have weighed on me, and the Lord knew I needed to be still for a bit.

I did not need to come home and worry about the chores not being done while sitting at my computer working, I needed to be with my friend for some unscheduled fellowship.

I often wonder why God made me the way I am.

Not physically, but emotionally.

Why do things weigh on me differently than they do others?

Why do I feel a responsibility to protect people who most would consider not to be my problem?

Why do I worry over things others may not think of?

Why did God make me such an empathetic human being!?!?!? Maybe I don’t want to feel EVERYTHING SO deeply!

BUT earlier this week I came across the story of Amy Carmichael, and not for the first time.

As I was reading this story, I was reminded of one of my more recent, but also great mentors who attends church with me.

I will not share her story without permission, but what I will say about her is that she has often shared how she wondered why God made her physical build the way it is, but circumstances in her life have proven that God knew exactly why she needed to be built the way she is (which is beautiful by the way) and if she weren’t then she would not be able to provide for her family the way that she does.

SO, as I sat here in my woe, wondering why God made me the way that I am, I remembered Amy Carmichael and my sweet friend.

Before I go further, I will tell you a smidgen about Amy Carmichael: she was Irish born and moved to England where she lived and was educated after her father died.

As a young girl, Amy used to question why God gave her brown eyes instead of blue eyes.

As a young woman, Amy was able to use her brown eyes to save the lives of numerous young girls who were “sacrificed” by their parents to temple life-that is, a life of sexual exploitation among other things.

She dyed her skin with tea and coffee and was able to don clothing of the region and would travel long distances just to save one child from suffering.

So, as an adult, Amy realized her blue eyes would have prevented her from saving the children she saved, and isn’t it curious how God plans these things, and we just don’t trust His plan?

We KNOW He has a plan.

We read COUNTLESS accounts of His plans being followed through.

We KNOW the Bible says “¹¹ For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. ¹² Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. ¹³ You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.” (Jeremiah 29 11-13 ESV), yet we still question.

Why did God make Amy with brown eyes? To save children.

Why did God make my sweet friend the way He did? To enable her to take care of her family.

Why did God make me the way He did? Well, I don’t know the whole answer just yet (I am not wise), but I do think that He made me this way for a reason.

I always want to help people, so I feel so much because it helps me with the desire to help.

I always want the truth to be told, so I fight for His Truth.

I always want to share with others, so God gave me MANY words and an outlet to share them.

I know there are not a million people reading what I write, but I know for a fact that I have touched at least one life. I know this because I was told as much just yesterday.

That’s all I care about.

If one person can be reached.

If one person can be touched.

If one person can heal.

Then all the feelings I have are worth it.

I have a lot of feelings and my feelings are ALWAYS big.

I OFTEN overreact.

I OFTEN cry.

But I do those things with honest sincerity.

When I cry with you, I am not doing this to make you feel better, though if it does, then that’s great.

I am crying with you because I can’t not cry with you.

I am rejoicing with you because I can’t not rejoice with you.

I am mourning with you because I can’t not mourn with you.

So, if you are feeling the weight of the world right now like I am, don’t worry, the laundry really will keep.

And if it doesn’t, you’re probably not the only one who can run the washing machine in your house.

If you are overwhelmed, know that there is rest.

If you are over emotional, know that there is a reason.

If you are super chatty, know that there is a purpose.

Psalm 139:15-16 “My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth. ¹⁶ Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.”

God doesn’t make mistakes. He saw you and me before we were even solid beings. He has every one of our days written in His book.

And I know, sometimes it is hard to understand why He made us the way He did or why we have the trials we have, but to quote the same sweet friend, “you have purpose. Not A purpose, PURPOSE”. That means, no accidents were made in the forming of this human.

Love

Ceci

TRIGGER WARNING-SA/ABUSE

TRIGGER WARNING:

TALK OF ABUSE/SA

PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THESE THINGS WILL TRIGGER YOU, AND KNOW I PRAY FOR YOU.

This is by far the most difficult post I have ever made.

It is raw and real and revealing.

I am sick to my stomach about sharing because I have never been so public with my abuse, and I share so little here.

But, it is necessary to share it right now.

I started this post wanting to talk about abuse in the church because the Southern Baptist Convention is under scrutiny (rightfully so) right now for their overlooking of abuse, but my thoughts have taken a different path and I hope it is one you can follow.

You see, I usually share tidbits of stories here and try to add in lessons as I go.

Most of the stories I share are from my recent past, nothing from my long ago past, the past that shaped me into the person I am today.

The past that is part of my testimony.

Not the testimony of a survivor of church abuse.

Not the testimony of a survivor (so far) of motherhood.

Not the testimony of a survivor of some wilder young adult years.

I realize that I have never shared much of my story.

Part of this is because I have started writing it in book form, and I really do hope to publish it one day and share my story with the world. Maybe one person can be saved by it, and if that is the case, then it is worth it.

But, in light of the sexual abuse that has been covered up by those who are supposed to be trusted leaders, I want to share a bit from a survivor of sexual abuse.

Me.

I am a survivor.

You see, so often the first question asked of victims of sexual abuse and assault is why they waited so long to report the abuse or assault.

Before I share a bit, I want to encourage you to ask yourself why that is the first question asked of those who have endured this kind of nightmarish and violent act.

The first question is not “what can I do to help?” or “are you okay?” or even “do you want to press charges?”

The first question, almost always, (in my personal experience) is “why did you wait so long to tell?”

I began being sexually abused when I was four or five years old.

Over the course of the next ten years, I was sexually abused, assaulted, raped, and molested by no less than five other men.

When I was ten years old my mother had escaped the abusive man who began assaulting me and at some point, someone else confessed that that same man had been abusing them.

Naturally, this led my mom to question me and, at the ripe age of ten years old, the first question I remember answering for both police and social workers is “why didn’t you tell anyone?”

At ten years old.

At ten years old I was given the responsibility to tell the police that I was being abused; to go to them on my own with no prompting.

I was expected to have the mental capacity and basic knowledge to know that it was okay to report the man who was trusted to be my stepfather for doing something to me that he told me he was allowed to do and began telling me he was allowed to do when I was five years old and had continued doing for years?

 Did I even understand what the word ‘report’ meant in that capacity at that age? Not likely. I am sure it meant a paper to do at school to me at that time.

At age five I was told that this was normal.

I knew it did not feel right, but I was five years old.

A person I trusted told me this was right; that this was allowed.

A person of authority in my life that I was not allowed to question.

At some point I did figure out it was wrong, then the threats to my family came.

So, at that point, I endured the abuse because I thought I was saving other members of my family from abuse.

Abusers know how to get to their victims.

They know what to say to get what they want.

They know what to threat in order to get their way.

In light of this current crisis in the Southern Baptist Convention (and yes, it is a crisis), I need people to understand these things.

I need people to believe survivors.

Do not question those who have endured this trauma.

Do not ask them why they did not tell!

If you have someone you are taught at your core to trust with your life and they tell you they are doing the right thing or that you deserve what you get or whatever else they say to convince you not to tell, then you listen to them.

There is manipulation.

There are threats.

There is the fear of not being believed.

There is fear of facing your abuser.

I have only seen the man who began my abuse twice since my mother fled. Once was before she knew what happened, and once was when no one else was around and I saw him walking down the street.

I was thirteen or fourteen years old that last time and I still remember the overwhelming emotions that went through me.

I still felt an overwhelming sense of fear.

The other feeling I felt was anger.

Anger that this man took so much from me and that I had to work so hard to overcome the start I was given in life because of him.

And anger that he still had enough control over me to make me afraid.

That fear never really goes away.

It doesn’t matter how strong of a person you become, once you have been a victim of that type of violence, there is a fear that hides in your head.

Sometimes it comes out in a dream.

Sometimes it comes out when you see someone who might be the attacker.

Sometimes a smell can trigger it.

Like I said, this post is going to be a bit all over the place, and it has, but I implore you to believe survivors.

There are some cases where “innocent until proven guilty” is not a phrase that should apply.

Are there people who lie about abuse?

Unfortunately, yes, but in my experience, the repercussions for those who lie are bad enough that they eventually come out with the truth.

Those who commit this assault know how to choose their victims.

They know how to groom their victims.

They know how to make their victims be quiet.

They know they can tell their victims that no one will believe them.

I mean, who would believe a young girl over a prominent pastor, right?

In support of all the victims of the predators who were trusted with their spiritual well-being, I want you to know that I believe you.

I support you.

And I am embarrassed that this is even something that needs addressed.

To the legal system and those who hand over punishments, including the jury members who choose to not give the harshest punishments to these predators – shame on you.

Shame on any system that could let a rapist go free but prosecute a woman for trying to ensure she does not have a pregnancy as a result of that rape.

Shame on any system that can allow a child predator to walk free while throwing the entire book at someone for having a joint in their possession (you don’t even have to be high).

Shame on any system that questions the validity of a victim ESPECIALLY with medical proof.

Shame on a system that thinks that just because someone has a position in ministry it means they are “really sorry” for what it is that they did and sets them free on “principle”.

Shame on a system that would allow prominent people to get away with these acts of violence because they have the money to do so (I’m looking at you, Mr. Prominent figure in Arkansas, and your judge and jury).

Shame on any person in government who abides in the cover up of these horrendous acts.

Shame on ANY member of a church who would rather have this covered up than tarnish the name of their church or denomination.

I am a member of a Baptist Church.

I am a proud member of my church and I love my church family very much.

HOWEVER, I will NEVER protect a predator or abuser of any kind in the name of my church or faith.

My faith demands action.

My faith demands that I help protect those who cannot protect themselves.

My faith demands that I do not turn a blind eye to abuses of the world, but that I have these uncomfortable conversations head on and confront any member of faith who is doing wrong.

My faith and the Book that I live by DEMANDS that I confront ANYONE of that same faith who is sinning.

My MORALS demand that even if I do confront a brother or sister in their sin, if they are breaking the law and ESPECIALLY if they are hurting another person, that I report it to the authorities.

In Oklahoma, “every person, private citizen or professional who has reason to believe that a child under the age of 18 is being abused or neglected is mandated by law to promptly report suspected abuse to the Oklahoma Department of Human Services” (CH. 9: Child Abuse-Oklahoma.gov).

Believe me when I say that if I suspect abuse of a child, I will report it, and if I suspect abuse of an adult, I will absolutely (and I have) go to that adult and ask them how I can help.

I will also alert someone who has more resources than I so they may be able to help.

And I will have no shame in doing these things.

I implore everyone to also do their part.

Report abuse.

Do not ask a survivor why it took them so long to report.

Demand legislation that supports survivors and gives longer statutes of limitations for these kinds of things.

Demand legislation that gives harsher penalties to those who commit acts of sexual (or any other kind) of violence.

Support survivors.

Believe survivors.

Love

Ceci

RESOURCES:

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

https://www.rainn.org/national-resources-sexual-assault-survivors-and-their-loved-ones

https://www.enoughabuse.org/get-help/survivors.html

https://www.nsvrc.org/survivors