Marine Wife Unplugged

Home, Home on the Range, where the Artillery & the Marine Corps Hymn play

2010-02-01T14:51:00.001-07:00

Today we ventured out to Gowen Field - the Army National Guard base (if you can call it a base) that shares space with the Boise Int'l Airport. I have to say, I never feel quite as "at home" as I feel when I'm around military. The difference is staggering, and often going through day to day life, I forget what the void inside me is, and feel like I must not be as close to God as I need to be. How many of you can recognize the feeling of a void when it's there? For me, as soon as I am around military, my spirit soars, my respect level sky-rockets, and I want to be "the perfect wife" for Nicholas, because he deserves more reasons to be respected than my constant shortcomings offer. As much as I try, I fall. But I get up each time, check myself for cuts and bruises, and I keep going. I can't even tell you how much I miss falling asleep to artillery. Most of you can't relate to this, but the few of you who can, understand that the lifestyle, if you're meant for it, just grows on you. Nothing else compares. We went into the Navy/Marine Corps Reserves building and changed our phone number and home address (finally). I walked back to the truck as slowly as I could, and stalled in putting Azarel in his seat. Nicholas called me out on it and said "I know you don't want to leave. That's why you're moving slowly, isn't it?" He was right. I had my camera and wanted to take pictures of everything I saw. Of course, you know how it goes: You're not supposed to. It's military stuff. It's military for a reason.

On the way home, since the VA paid us on time (thank you VA), we discussed in detail how it's still possible for Nicholas to return to service, despite all the junk we've been through and how few people believe in it. All we need is for Nicholas to get healed up, and get some waiver forms. We're not sure how the whole PTSD thing plays out, but I know that tons of people in the Corps, Army, Navy, and Chair Force who had PTSD and still serve.

Every time I pray for God to either take away the desire for us to be back in, and that the desire would stop tormenting us if it's not of God, I feel more hope about it all. So to all of you nay-sayers who don't believe it's a possibility, or even much of a REMOTE possibility, I would ask that you keep your negative opinions to yourself. The only conversations I want right now deal with better health, higher morale, and strict obedience to whatever it is that God wants us to do. This is one of those times where sensitivity is of importance and (hate to sound cliche' because of the picture I've posted here,) "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

A Day of R & R

2010-01-31T18:31:00.003-07:00

Today has been a really good day. It didn't start off well, but it went well over all. This morning at 7:15 Nicholas and I set a new record for 'earliest argument.' I couldn't believe it. Somehow though, mid-sentence, Nicholas caught himself and said, clearly and honest as day, that he realized he was not doing any of the things his counselor had told him to do. He stopped pointing blame, told me how he felt, and I told him which parts of how he felt I could relate to and understood. I told him the patterns I had noticed (how he usually goes at most about 1-2 weeks - or as little as a couple hours - where he doesn't have an outburst or anything, and then about as long with good days, and then he won't remember what he says during the 'outbursts' as I'll refer to them as) and told him that I was prepared for all this circular craziness now that I had some support (thank you combat wives who follow this blog), and I explained to him my purpose for having a blog. Without it, I really would have serious problems. He was pretty upset with me because he'd stayed up all night and read it all and did not like what he read one bit. Too bad. We all need support. I was prepared for him to get mad at me for the blog. And if I'm going to tell you all everything, of COURSE I'm going to tell him everything. He found my blog to be a bit one sided and asked me if I told the counselor the day that Azarel fell out of the bed when he was only 4 months old (which was 100% my fault). I don't have a problem telling people that, though. It just didn't cross my mind. If that means I should have my child taken from me, so be it. I was napping with him on the bed (he wasn't able to roll over at that point. . . or so I thought), and next thing I know, I'm hearing a huge *thud* and I'm hearing the most terrifying and innocent cry. Anyway, I hadn't told the counselor that story (It actually happened twice. I'm abiding by an honesty policy here, so there ya have it.). Now that Azarel has his own crib, of COURSE we have no problems like that, but regardless, it still weighs on my mind. Fair is fair, right? Ok, moving on.

After our conversation (which ended up going really well), Nicholas told me he wasn't going to take the trip into the mountains with his family and I. He wasn't feeling up to it. I felt a bit bad about that, but God impressed upon my heart that He would hold the fort down and allow Nicholas to have a relaxing day while I get to do three of my all-time favorite things: Travel, take pictures, and eat food. Amen. I got some beautiful pictures, too. I'll upload them here soon! (Well, the best ones will be uploaded.)

On the way home, I got an invite out for a drink with my best friend/sister Shelley. After I unloaded things and checked on Nicholas (and shared about 15 lovely kisses), saw how his day went (He DID have a very relaxing day and even told me he's glad I had a good day!! I fought tears of joy.), and got him some tea made and saw what else needed to be done. Nicholas told me about his trust issues and specifically his issues with people drinking alcohol and the stigma placed on false Christians who get drunk and preach about Jesus while doing so. Some people close to him growing up had this problem, so by being honest with me about it, it let him know that I knew what he was thinking, and it gave me a new opportunity to boost his trust, by not failing him. Allowing me to build his trust is a really good thing, because as you know, PTSD victims don't trust. They're taught not to trust a.n.y.o.n.e. in combat, and it's almost impossible for some of them to make the switch back to civilian life. He's trying though, so for this I am really thankful. God heard my prayers again!

Photos of McCall, Idaho & her Winter Festival

When I'm Happy

2010-01-30T20:48:00.001-07:00

I clean better, I cook better, I invent easier ways of doing things, I throw away stupidity with a lighthearted smile, I take pictures (of everything), I occasionally scrap book, I write (wow what a no-brainer), I read my Bible more, I preach a lot more, I listen well, I talk with concise and coherent sentences, I want to work out, I want to teach my son, I want to be Mrs Everything for Nicholas and I don't care how much or how little I receive in return, I sing, I play my guitar, I go for random walks, I invite friends over, I cook for random people, I compliment random people, and I embrace life with a zealous optimism that people mock me for, saying I need to get my head out of the clouds.

I have ONE question for you!!!!!!! Why should I get my head out of the clouds?! Is having my head on the ground better? You have to be kidding me. I'd rather live in delusion if it's at all possible (though usually it's not. This statement has nothing to do with God, if you think I'm going there with it). I'm not trying to deny what's around me. Reading my blog, you've got to be well aware. I am simply saying, as much as I vent and cry and whine, I do still ultimately want to be a positive person. It took me a long time to get the courage up to put my struggles, my dirty laundry, out in the open. I'm not private about good stuff, but of course, I want to be private about bad stuff! No one wants to hear it, and no one knows what to do with it. Well... some do. That's why I'm gaining the courage to say what I'm saying here.

Philppians 4:8 for those of you who are not believers and don't know how to be one after putting up with so much [insert choice bad word], I will say, reads:

"Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things."

Poems & a Quote worthy of Quoting

2010-01-30T20:25:00.003-07:00

Untitled
(by me)
To show me where the road bends
And where the tide folds over itself
To show me where I fit in the mold
And cause a flower once broken to grow
To bring me out of dark moments
And see the happy sentiments
To know that I believe in you
And live with selflessness and truth
To love me enough to do what's right
And honor me by walking toward the light
To seek the help you know you need
And stick to it without thrashing out at me
I pray.

PTSD
(not written by me)
All alone,
Thoughts drifting aimlessly,
Success a broken dream.
Left behind a future, a family.
Ancient memories of home
Touch my mind,
A single tear appears
It slowly drops and splashes
Against my heart it sears . . .

"When you signed the papers to join there was pride, when you came home there was pride, now you are here and you have to swallow your pride and walk in and ask for help. If you have all this pride and want to get better, walk with me."
- One veteran to another veteran who had been sitting in the parking lot of a Vet Center for 45 minutes, not wanting to go in and get himself help.

Coming Out of the Closet

2010-01-30T18:40:00.006-07:00

I've given up hope of having a normal marriage. Another argument broke out this afternoon. I think we average at least one a day lately. We didn't argue as much in the past because I wasn't strong enough to argue and didn't know enough about what I was feeling to think it mattered.

Whatever conversation we had the other day about Nicholas trying to own up to his flaws is officially out the window, like so many other seemingly productive conversations. He thinks I'm selfish, and that I'm only happy if communication, as well as every other aspect of out marriage, goes the way I want it to. I remember him saying in counseling last week that he doesn't feel like he can relate or communicate with anyone because he feels so isolated, so why does he tell me I'm the problem? I KNOW I'm part of the problem. I mean, I do the normal things wives do: I nag, I remind him to brush his teeth, and I ask him where he's going, who he's going with, and when he'll return... so I can plan out my day accordingly. As a stay at home mom, it's important to me to know the whereabouts of everyone. I guess he sees this as nagging though, and he hates it with a passion.

I told the counselor (I wasn't going to mention this) that he'd hit Azarel in the past. He lost control of the situation and bruised his cheek. I also told Nicholas that I told them, and he reminded me that now for sure, social services will be after him. They haven't contacted us at all though. They (the vet center counselors) said that they simply didn't want Nicholas alone with the baby. They never said he couldn't touch him, or that he couldn't be a father. Everyone's goal in this (except for maybe Nicholas's) is for us to have a good functioning, communicative, and positive marriage and family. Nicholas however, since counseling, has refused to even touch Azarel. He's pretty much given up his privileges as a father, saying that if he tries to touch him, he'll go to jail, because if I see him do something I don't like, I'll throw him in jail. This could not be farther from the truth, and it really hurts me to hear him say things like it. I don't think jail would do him any good anyway!

Nicholas believes that my wanting good communication is a ploy to get him to change unwillingly and that I am the problem. He is tired of hearing that he needs counseling and he's tired of hearing about PTSD. I am tired of living with PTSD.

I finally got fed up with the arguing and said "Well then just forget it. I have just lost hope of ever having good communication with you." Broken-hearted, I left the room, marched into our bedroom, slammed the door as loudly as I could, and crawled into my closet, and shut the door. Just like a five year-old would do. I cried a ton, actually feeling comfortable doing so, like Nicholas was not going to roll his eyes and say "Oh here we go, you're trying to get your way again with crocodile tears and a pity party." I felt like I could talk to God alone, hug myself, and be a nothing for a little bit. Of course, trying to talk to God at this point is like saying "Please Daddy, can I have a new life?" I asked God to show me what to do. Obviously none of my attempts have helped. (And what can I do besides drag myself and Nicholas to meetings? He hates them. I hate that he hates them. And then after counseling, we may be good for a few hours, or maybe even a whole week, but then he's back to being Mr Cynic, Mr Grumpy, Mr It's All Your Fault and You Want to Live in Some Perfect Reality That Does Not Exist.

While I was in the closet, I realized that Azarel was still out in the hallway, and I just broke the counselor's only rule: Don't leave him alone with the baby. Bam. Broken. Can't change it. Azarel was crying and pounding on the door and I was too upset to willingly come out of the closet. I'm in pretty bad shape. Eventually I heard another door in the house close and I heard Azarel get quiet. I found courage to suck back more tears and get him, looking around for Nicholas, who was now out of sight.

It's only a matter of when it will happen again, and how far lower in the esteem pool I will sink each time, I never know. I love him. I hate his disorder. It's ruining him. It's ruining me. It's ruining us.

Tomorrow we are all supposed to cram into our truck (his father, mother, and younger brother) and take a trip into the mountains. I've not yet been to the mountains out here. I've wanted to for a whole year. Now I'm about 15 hours away from my chance and I don't even want to go.

I am reading a book about veterans and their families recovering from PTSD. It talks about how children can end up with the same symptoms as their father/mother who had been exposed to the initial trauma, because they try to cope with anger, fear, unworthiness the same ways they see their parents do it. This frightens me to no avail. It also frightens me to think that I'll be wondering when Nicholas will flip out on me next. I'm not so worried about him hitting me. I'm worried about what he'll say next. He just gets so irrational.

He hates when I write about him in my blog. He doesn't want the world to think low of him. And if I write badly about him and I'm his wife, who's supposed to love and respect him fully, and I don't, why would anyone else? That's what he thinks. I don't think he sees things from my view. Then again, he doesn't see anyone's view of life but his own. Once again, he feels disconnected, isolated, and wants to give up almost every day. Life's not worth living, right? Try as I might, my attempts to bring the lessons from counseling home to the real battle field do nothing but irritate Nicholas more. He sees "that way" of doing things as "my way." Well excuse me. Forgive me for "my way" being a healthy way.

I'm still not giving up, but I sure do want to sometimes. I'm back to being ignored, and Nicholas is back to full withdrawal mode. It doesn't matter how many times I say that I hate being ignored. I almost think he enjoys doing it, just to rub me the wrong way. I think it makes him feel good to be spiteful. If he is hurting, I guess I should, too.

He wants me to be the ultimate Proverbs 31 wife, and I want to be that too, but it occurred to me today that I can't be a Proverbs 31 wife without a Proverbs 31 husband. Read it closely. The husband has a lot to do with where she stands. Her husband acknowledges her, and he praises her... a lot.

Lord, I cry out to You. Please hear my prayers.

[An hour later.... I guess my awesome God either heard my prayers or the cycle of madness went on to the next phase. Nicholas returned from his mini getaway in the garage (his alone time I think), and came back in and was fine. The attitude was gone, as if nothing had happened at all. I'm not that gifted. My pain lingers. I have a hard time just switching it off. Like a good wife, I can try to talk about it later to clear up confusion and hurt feelings, but it will probably just end in an argument, and he will feel attacked and I'll feel ignored and rejected again, so I think I'll just embrace the peace in the house for a while (the baby just went to bed) and breathe.]

Sgt Grit, we love you

2010-01-30T12:54:00.000-07:00

When Sgt Grit catalogs come in the mail, Nicholas and I fight over who gets to look through first. We go through every page, slowly, so that we don't miss a thing, and we pick out what we would get......

If we weren't shafted by the VA

If the VA wasn't trying to rob us of our future

If Nicholas's TBI didn't prevent him from concentrating

If the migraines would go away and stay away

If he could go back into the Marine Corps and pick up rank and re-up to the station in Italy

If he was able to get a decent paying job out here

If he was able to get any job without being turned down

If Veterans Preference really worked in his favor

Money's a moderately big deal. It's not the answer to our happiness, and of course, we could become Sgt Grit shop-a-holics and kill the sting of it all a little, but maybe living in a dumpy little crack house (it looks that way from the outside because we don't have enough money to get real grass or exterior decoration up, EXCEPT for the American flag) without USMC memorabilia will only make us feel more isolated? We could get a bunch of USMC patio stuff, and a grill set, but what Marines would we invite over?

I really REALLY hate being out of the Marine Corps. I miss cadences in my ears. I miss artillery. I never even got to go to a USMC Ball. Now we just can't afford to get Blues for Nicholas, nor the awards and medals, and all that sexy, gorgeous, I-want-to-jump-you-right-now stuff. We have rent to pay, which a couple months back (what irony) we took out a VA loan to pay off!!!

The only relief that comes from our currently living off of VA disability checks, GI Bill income, WIC, and Food Stamps is that, well.... we earned it.

I Married PTSD? No, that's not right!!!

2010-01-30T11:22:00.002-07:00

I can't believe it took me two and a half years to find other combat veteran wives whose husbands have PTSD and TBIs. It's so depressing. I've been wondering what the chances are that I might have Secondary PTSD. I discussed the probability (at least I tried to) with Nicholas, and he said "I don't think you have it. It's not like I was ducking behind cars when I heard noises." I had to pause for a moment and hold back my tears, saying quietly, "Well honey, yes you did. You have even done that in the last year since we've moved out of Camp Pendleton." He got quiet, and it seemed that he once again felt he causes more harm being alive than being dead, like those he fought with, like those he should have died next to. He's not all that suicidal. He hates the idea of it. But when things get bad, he wishes it was him instead of his brother. He wanted to take the bullet instead. Many times, he did take the bullet. Still, God spared him. I would like to say that it was my fault for praying that God keep him alive (maybe against his will), but I mostly prayed for God's will to be done, no matter what the results were.. I asked for the heart to endure it, and for the strength to fight for every day, and to rejoice exceedingly when good days come. They do come, you know. My husband says that women are only "normal" for about 2 days out of every month, due to constantly changing hormone cycles. Can that be true for a PTSD/TBI veteran too?

I haven't discussed my thoughts and feelings about all that's going on. I've been trying to keep myself quiet, for a couple reasons. More importantly, I don't want to make my husband look bad. Second, I don't want to complain. He's alive. That's more than many others can say. I want him alive and I have him alive. I feel it would be very selfish of me to ask for a total healing. These battle scars are on the inside (and he's got plenty on the outside, too), and most people can't place their finger on what's going on. Most people are just intimidated by Nicholas or think he's screwed up in the head: that "Something's just not right. He's not stable."

I'm going to be totally honest in saying this. Raw thoughts: Beware. When people tell me (because they know they can tell me anything and I'll try to hear it out) that I shouldn't ever get my hopes up for Nicholas to return to the military, and that having hope is going to be pointless because it's just going to be crushed, I want to scream, I want to die, I want to tell you all kinds of things I will regret, and I want to cry for months, locking myself in a room, never to come out. You can call me a drama queen all you want. Every woman that I know has told me "I can't even imagine what it's like. Most women would have left your husband long ago." Is that supposed to make me smile? It's supposed to encourage me to know that you believe my husband is not worth sticking around for? You don't need to tell me you can tell things are tough. I am the woman who lives with him.

I have been trying to make note of patterns I see in Nicholas's thinking since he's been back. It's been hard for him to treat me like the queen that deep down he sees me as. His default is in trying to rule me around like I'm a recruit. I am wrong, no matter what I do. No matter what.

People he's known for years say that he's been double-minded since they can remember. He only goes to counseling because "I force him to." I wish he wanted to. He doesn't know. He just knows he needs to, or else he'll lose me. Do you know how much I hate giving ultimatums?

Anyway, back to my original thought. In the last couple days, I've been pushing through how depressing it all is, realizing that if I don't get out the thoughts that are in my head and the hurts that are in my heart, I'm going to waste away. I don't want that. I want to be strong for him. I want to have a marriage that people look up to, instead of stray from. I am so thankful for the couple Marine wives I have found in the last day, who inadvertently have blogs on this stuff as well. I only wish I were closer. I really want a shoulder to cry on sometimes. My family doesn't understand. My friends don't understand. I got used to knowing that "no one can understand."

If you live with this, please please follow my blog. I need your support, I need your encouragement, and I need to know that I'm not alone in this. Almost every day, I feel as though I am, because people just don't talk about it. I'm not your typical shallow Marine wife (and I hate to put it that way, but after you go through all the junk I've been through with my husband, a normal deployment sounds like a cake walk, doesn't it).

I hope that in my journey here, I will be able to remind you of where God sees you and I in all of this. My faith is the only thing that keeps me going. Thankfully, it's enough. God will help us.

Six Word Saturday - 6WS

2010-01-30T08:53:00.000-07:00

"Life with a Wounded Marine's challenging."

Mid-winter Nearsight

2010-01-29T21:51:00.006-07:00

I had a nice long cry about my life with God a little while ago, and as I was crying, He reminded me that He put me here in Idaho for a good reason, and it was nothing like the reason I had thought it was. It's a little sad to admit that, but it's the truth, and truth is all I want in my life. He put me here to be a Mom, to be a family member, and to simply love Him. What did I think my purpose was? Well, I've had a burden on my heart for about 6 years now to start a home church, and it still has not come to pass. I thought we'd be here for a little bit while Nicholas got into law enforcement, and I thought that he'd end up back in the military in no time. I thought we'd have bought a house by now, had another baby maybe, and been "okay." I know that these things are a bit trivial in the grand picture, but I'm a dreamer, and I dream big. Sometimes my biggest dreams involve the smallest of things. I don't know what my future holds, but I'm more emphatic about finding out what cool things God can do through me that I would never have come up with on my own.

I also had a nice long conversation with Nicholas about how fast-paced I am. We were on the topic of "effective communication," which started an argument (how ironic). I asked him what I could do to help our marriage have better communication and he pointed out that I'm living like I live in New York city in a farm/country state and it's just not working... for anyone. I have always felt that questions if worth asking deserve quick responses. I was raised to believe that time was "of the essence" as they say, and that no one should waste anyone's time. Nicholas pointed out that if I keep "doing things" all the time, my life will be meaningless. I wanted to throw out his wisdom in an instant, thinking that sitting around meant being "idle," and I know the Bible speaks against being idle. He pointed out that I run and hide when things don't go my way, and that I break down and eventually snap when I'm being ignored. I felt ignored a lot growing up, so it's pretty much on my "don't do that to me unless you want me convinced that you hate me with a passion" list. (I don't really have a list like that, but you get the point. When Nicholas is upset, he withdraws, and sometimes his withdrawals last for hours or days. It's torture to me. The pattern he pointed out in my behavior though, the running and hiding (I have even closed myself in closets before when I felt I couldn't handle life. Call it my way of -coping-) really needs to go. There is no need for that nonsense as an adult. I do that when I feel there's nothing more I can do to change a situation, when I feel cornered, and when I feel worthless. I do know however, that my reactions to bad situations/circumstances/relationships can only be moved in positive ways (as far as I am concerned) by my own positive reactions. Hiding in a closet will never seem good. Desiring to crawl under a table or behind a couch and remain out of sight is not a good thing. I sound like a scared 5 year old, don't I. I have a lot to think about, and I'll be thinking about this stuff forever.

In my last blog, I spoke of my desire to travel, and I thought traveling meant traveling at a fast pace. I guess it doesn't. (Now that I'm thinking a bit more clearly I'm thinking it might not, anyway.) He also pointed out that because I'm so used to quick communication, I have a major faux-paux (I'm sorry if you're French and I just insulted your language with poor spelling.) concerning James 1:19-20*. In that regard, I am nothing like I should be. Be cursed, obnoxious mouth of mine!!!! I bet if I talked less (and maybe... write MORE!?) I'd be more concise in what I want to say, and people might even pay attention to my words more. I've been down this road before. I was doing well, and then I wasn't, and then I was doing well, and you see where I'm at now. Round she goes, round and round. Where she stops, she can't be found. I do believe that if I put my mind to this task of not necessarily becoming more of a "Westie," but becoming more Christ-like in my speech and listening skills, I may be able to accomplish much. I think it's easier to get in physical shape than to transform my mind. Mind renewal can only be found through the Holy Spirit. Of this I have much assurance. Romans 12:2* and Proverbs 16:9* remind me.

I pointed out a couple things that I felt Nicholas could work on as well. The first thing was my suggesting that when I ask a question, instead of responding with a cynical question, an answer would be pleasant and sufficient. My second suggestion was that he take ownership when he sees his flaws, say he's sorry, and take appropriate measure to correct himself, instead of retaliating and making wounds deeper than they need to be.

I'm not so sure he liked my suggestions, but my goal is more positive, more effective, more pleasant communication, which is something we both lack, and we both know it. Neither of us find healthy examples of communication in the families we were raised in. Unfortunately, many things struggles that we have in our marriage are the results of problems that were learned from childhood. I was too mouthy and outgoing for my own good, and Nicholas was a loner, and generally disliked people. Concerning love for people, we are polar opposites. Anyway, stay tuned and see where we are in the next year. I am putting my hope and trust in the Lord that our obstacles will be less about ourselves and more about the world in which ~~we're stuck~~ we live.

James 1:19-20 says "So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath; for the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God."

Romans 12:2 says "And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God."

Proverbs 16:9 says "A man’s heart plans his way, But the LORD directs his steps."

Psalm 37:23 says "The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in his way."

"But whoever listens to me will dwell safely, and will be secure, without fear of evil." (Proverbs 1:33)

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths." (Proverbs 3:5)

Thus says the Lord, Your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: "I am the Lord your God, who teaches you to profit, who leads you by the way you should go." (Isaiah 48:17)

"I will instruct you and teach you in the way should go; I will guide you with My eye." (Psalm 32:8)

"For this is God, our God forever and ever; He will be our guide even to death." (Psalm 48:14)

"The Lord will guide you continually ..." (Isaiah 58:11)

"O Lord, I know the way of man is not in himself; it is not in man who walks to direct his own steps." (Jeremiah 10:23)

"Delight yourself also in the Lord, and He shall give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass ... Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him." (Psalm 37:4,7)

But remember (my note) that what you think you desire is not always what you really do desire. The Bible says your heart is the greatest deceiver.

Mid-winter Farsight

2010-01-29T19:06:00.001-07:00

I am considering the majority of my blog entries, for the sake of the mundane. I don't want to post anything that's trial. There are many trivial blogs out there. I don't make a point to read them all, because I don't want to be a magnet for trivia (unless it's the kind that can save a life).

Today on my cell phone, Nicholas received four more calls from 29 Palms, California, for the job offer. That's right. Four more calls came to the cell phone in Arabic. First it says "to hear this message in English, press 1. After you press 1, the recording is in Arabic. (Isn't that funny? I think it is.)

I had been talking with my sister-in-law just as the calls came in, one after another. Our conversation was more or less about how after being in the same state for one year, I'm ready to move again. I get tired of being in the same spot for too long. I have always been like this, as long as I can remember. The Treasure Valley doesn't hold as many treasures as I'd been hoping for, and while I fight my fights in hope for contentment, my heart cries out for more. I want to see the world. I want to experience Southern hospitality. I want to be in the desert and I want to be on an island. I want to dwell in the mountains, and I want to be in a forest, hidden from all men. I want to hear the still small voice of God and know that my husband is happy with me. I know some of you are thinking "Well you can be content anywhere you are if your heart is right with God." In response I would say, "When I believe God is about to shift my family somewhere, my spirit grows uneasy. It's one of the ways God speaks to me. God doesn't only bring you peace, joy, and contentment. Sometimes, God stirs up very gross discomfort to prepare you for a change, or so that you'll desire a change that He endorses." I got a real bad bug to move out of New England right before I started talking with Nicholas (pre-marriage). When it became official, I understood that in fact, my extreme dissatisfaction for where I was was God helping me to break ties and make negotiations for a new chapter in my life. He paved the way for sure, but I had to do my part (like get married, move, quit my job, explain my irrational actions to my family, friends, church, etc). I got the same feeling about a year after we had lived in California. I knew God was up to something. Shortly after that, we moved to Idaho. I can tell you plenty of other times God's done this with me. Suffice to say, my restlessness is not in vain, because I pray daily for Him to refresh me, give me strength to go about my 'present' day, and to give me zeal for His kingdom despite all adversity.

There are a few things nagging at my heart strings right now. My relationship with God, first of all, is not where I want it to be. Granted, I can't clearly see the spectrum of "where it could be," as no one really can, but I know that I'm not taking on life with the contrite spirit I'm called to have. I'm getting cynical and bitter, and I don't want to be. I hate snapping at my husband for things that I know he's going to do to annoy me (because snapping doesn't solve anything, as you should know). I hate not having the right words at the right times, and I hate trying to confide in people without asking God first if they're really people I should be trying to confide in. I know that good friends, and even loyal family, come and go as much as tides ebb and wane. More than that, I want to say there are things that I do not know. Wise is the man who can admit his shortcomings and say that he needs and fears God. Truthful lips endure forever. I can say all sorts of wise things! Do I feel wise though? Absolutely not.

I just need direction. I need God to make a move and I need to know it's Him making it. Something here just ain't right.

Thank you for your prayers.

The Mile Thigh Club

2010-01-29T14:59:00.001-07:00

I'm part of this club. Have you heard of it? It has nothing to do with the famed "orgy in the sky." I'm talking about thighs! My thighs! Some people think it's sweet that I have "curves in the right places," but when you have to buy clothes with hip room and pants with butt room, it becomes less catchy, and more nasty.

I am starting Pilates. It hurts so ~~much~~ good/bad!!!!

Guess what I did after I worked out? Nope, didn't eat a salad. Nope, didn't drink a gallon of water. (I had water before as well as my vitamins.) I ate a turkey wrap and a sausage on a stick!

Productive, no?

Be Here with Me

2010-01-28T21:17:00.002-07:00

My heart longs for you
In the summer wind
And in the dark of night
I hope
That some day
When you return
Love will lead us

You know, I'm actually not in a poetry mood in the least bit right now. I have no idea why I wrote that. I spent about an hour having "LOL" conversations through instant messages. It's sad to think my social life consists of chattering keys and laughter, pending sufficient internet speed and quick relays. What is this world coming to? I tell myself all the time that if I really WANTED to save what I write (And I really do), I would print out all of these here blogs and save them in a book. That's my goal. Every month, print and save. I could put them in big three-ring binders: One volume per month. It's a fantastic and organized idea, don't you think? I think that's why I haven't done it! Haha!

I have an addition to wit. I'm so addicted that I pay attention to remarks I made throughout my day and remarks that others make, hoping something catchy flies through the air, Facebook status worthy!!!!!!! THAT IS DISGUSTING!! I need help! I do love Facebook, and I do love pushing buttons, but why is it that my thrill for shock is so abundant? Oh oh!! I know! The boring and complacent Idaho gets to me sometimes. Don't get me wrong. The mountains here are beautiful (ok, so I've only seen the foothills, according to many Idahoans), and the valleys are beautiful too. I'm talking about the people!!

For the first time ever, I got mad at a city!! I LOVE CITIES! I got mad because I noticed (as Nicholas so kindly pointed out) that most cars going home for the day, most slow and space-wasting, air-polluting, unnecessarily-expensive cars, SUV's, and pickup trucks only had ONE person!!! I can't find the logic! What's wrong with carpooling?!?!!? This observation annoyed me so much that almost 4 days later (I noticed this on Tuesday as we were driving back to Nampa from Boise) it's still on my mind. Maybe I'll relieve stress and make someone laugh in the process. I've been known to make people laugh when I'm mad. Nicholas thinks my "angry face" is cute.

Top 10 Annoyances:
1) Mariachi bands blaring out of beat up old Mexican cars, overloaded with kids and un-parental parents.
(You live in America. Behave like it.)
2) Women, you don't appeal to anyone but dirty sleazebags who can't get better than dirt when you wear revealing clothing. (Now you know why I rarely go clothing shopping. The fashion industry exploits and caters to immoral "things")
3) It's not funny!!! Stupid humor is not HUMOR! It's STUPID! I'm so tired of the media glorifying things that tear people down. Why are there comedy movies about people being eaten alive? I don't think it's funny at all.
4) My eyes. I can't see straight. 5 surgeries later (before I turned 10 years old), and my eyesight is atrocious. Drs say they're nothing more than can do. Long story.
5) Poor hygiene. Why is it such an inconvenience to brush your teeth, wash and deodorize your pits, and brush your hair? It's so backwards to demand respect from people while you don't even respect yourself.
6) GREEN!!!! It's a damn color! Do you know that Jews were all about green peace before it was cool?! God told us to be stewards of the land back in Genesis. But no...... let's all make fun of the Jews. I think it's more noteworthy to point out the flaws in the Green-peacers who believe in global warming. I believe someone told me it's still snowing. If you like peace, ok. If you like the color green, fine. Don't title me as a heathen for not recycling just as you want. I have salvation. Your reusable shopping bags and organic diapers can't save you, can they. Recycling is an excellent resource. I think we should have been doing it for far longer than we have. But why are you so concerned with saving the planet and so UNconcerned for the unborn? If you kill the unborn, who will recycle after you're dead?! Where's your logic?! (Can I make a 6.5? I can't stand people who misplace the sanctity of life and trade it for "organic." And y'all say I'm the strange one...)
7) It is not your right, your privilege, OR your job to undermine the constitution nor the foundations this country was created upon. If you want to be a whining asshole and complain about Christianity as the rock of the amazing country of America, go live in Africa for a while. See how wonderful a country of heathens really is. Wait... didn't we elect a piece of Africa? I guess we'll have to wait and see then won't we.
8) If you only hear what you want to hear, you'll be deaf forever. Hearing happy thoughts all the time encourages weak character. What's more profitable? Can't remember. Think happy thoughts. *rolls eyes*
9) Christianity does NOT mean "be a doormat!" Do not go and criticize my faith before you actually understand my faith. If you think you understand it, and you still have a problem with this here #9, you don't understand it. I'll explain it to you some other time.
10) Complainers!!!! Aren't I a riot?! I'm serious though. This is my first ever "complaining" blog out of how many? I don't make a habit of this. Get to know me. You'll get the good, you'll get the bad, you'll get the ugly.
May God receive some kind of glory from all of it.

As if I couldn't be any more cliche',
In Jesus' name. Amen.

The Happy 101 Award!

2010-01-27T12:17:00.001-07:00

I thought awards were just for people in big businesses,

outstanding skills, creative talent,

educational systems, huge contributions to society, etc...

I was wrong!!! I got an award! For my blog!!!!!!!!

I can't believe it!

Ten Things that Make Me Happy

1. God's glory shining through me in ways that draw others close to Him

2. A clean house, knowing I made it that way. A clean house means a clean mind & a clean heart, & in my case, it also means I'm either in a really good mood or I'm really mad. Either way, beware! Ha.

3. Expressions of satisfaction and a full belly because of something I have made that's tasty.

I am daily bewildered by my ability to concoct edible food.

4. A happy baby means a happy Mama.

An obedient baby means a proud and spunky Mama:

In other words, Proverbs 31, come to life.

People say I'm like that woman, but I still see little resemblance.

And I thank God for the vision impairment.

5. A Beautiful Mind. Yes, the movie. It brings me happiness in a gut-wrenching tear jerking way that no other movie has had the ability to do in the same capacity. It depicts some of the things I have gone through in my struggle for my marriage, for my husband, and for love above all.

6. Those who are quick to listen and slow to anger.

In short, this happiness equates to the notion that I must have few close friends.

Fact.

7. Seasons. Seasonings. Sensations.

Example: I love Spring while the herbs grow fresh and I feel rejuvenated.

8. My love story still drives me wild. The greatest love story ever though, is the one in which Christ not only came to bear witness to the truth He was/is/forever will be, but died as a pardon for my sin, rose from the dead to conquer it, and now lives in me... so that others may also know Him. That's really incredible. I've been part of the body of Christ for 7 years now, and passion still floods me like a monsoon.

9. Military. Marine Corps. Eternal love, self-sacrifice, strength, honor, and duty.

Need I say more?

10. This. I love to write, I love to share my world, and I love the glimmer of hope I feel when I believe I've written something worth your time. There's a lot of junk out there. I don't want to be junk.

Ten People I would like to Award

1. Can I award Jesus? I have nothing to say, no purpose, and no reason to do any of what I do without Him and His obedience to the Father. He's my inspiration, He's my comfort, He's my joy.

2. My dear husband, Nicholas: You have taught me to find with different weapons than I was used to. You remind me that my compassion is worth holding on to. You deserve far more than I believe I can even give you on most occasions, and yet you still call me 'wife.' When I think of you, I think of how we danced under the stars to Frank Sinatra the night before you deployed to California, Kuwait, Iraq, Germany, and then back. I don't want anyone else.

Let's grow old together and write love letters on the stars for the whole world to see.

3. Shelley: My sister, my closest confidante, my better set of ears.

4. My mother in law: She's one of the loveliest people you'll ever meet, with one of the sweetest dispositions, and yet with as much [insert choice phrase] as she takes/puts up with,

she finds a way to glorify God in the midst of it.

5. Jasmine: I wonder if you'll be just as giggly when you're 50. I sure hope so. You're my friend, my sister in law, my fellow Mama, and both a teacher and a student. I enjoy your passion for truth and I enjoy you.

6. Jerry: You're the coolest "I wish I was in the Navy again but I'm stuck in the Army" best friend anyone could ever ask for. I'm happy about it, I'm happy I know you, and I'm happy at the prospect of being friends with you forever.

7. Autumn: Where would I be with the internet, blogging, and laughter (mixed with a healthy helping of sarcasm for heaven's sake) without my sister, who practically thinks the same way I do at many times of the day? You inspire, you encourage, and you're real.

8. All the corgis in the world, my loyalty turns to you. Moose, you're the funniest dog, ever.

9. Annie: I don't mean Annie from the musical. I mean Annie as in Annie's shells and cheese.

Laugh all you want. The shells and white cheddar is delicious.

10. Everyone who has encouraged me, put life into perspective, offered humor where it needed to be, and offered sincerity throughout. While a cheerful heart is good medicine, being happy all the time is completely unrealistic and pretty much impossible. I appreciate "real."

Make up

2010-01-26T20:32:00.001-07:00

Here is one of my many struggles. I think I'm finally ready to come clean about it.

For the past two and a half years, I've been afraid to look pretty. In my past, I was all about makeup because I felt like I was more attractive with it. I wouldn't leave the house without at least some foundation (God help my skin) on. I had bad acne problems and couldn't afford a real dermatologist, so I did the best I could. I tried Proactiv, Retin-a-micro, salicylic acid, all kinds of different creams, Mary Kay stuff, astringents, more water, more exercise, no chocolate, you name it. It wouldn't leave. It didn't clear up until I was married and lived in California, where I found out that my skin does better in dryer climates because of my heritage (way Italian). Then, when I became pregnant, the acne disappeared completely and was replaced by a heavenly glow (which I will say was perspiration and raging/uncomfortable hormones). Now that I'm 14 years older than when my acne problem started, my skin has changed again. It's said that your body's composition changes every 7 years, so this is no shock.

Since being married though, I've been trying so hard not to make other men stumble. When I was first married, people would still try to get me, as if I need to prove how little other people think of marriage these days. It even happened with strangers through text messages. Crazy, right? I'll let you in on a secret though: Before I found Nicholas, I had been proposed to on five different occasions, by 5 different people. Most women are happy if they get one proposal in their lifetime. Either way, I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but it gives you an idea of the point I'm trying to make.

I have to actually do things to try and make myself less tempting. I have tried putting my hair up (because it looks better down), not brushing it, not wearing any makeup at all, and wearing those gorgeous "Mom clothes," like sweat pants, baggy stay-at-home-and-clean shirts, and old soccer-mom looking sneakers that really need to be thrown away. All of that, and because I've been working on the inside of me, people still notice the outside and call me beautiful. I feel downright awkward saying this mostly because I don't find myself attractive outwardly, but I guess others do. I have had a lot of people tell me I'm beautiful, sexy, appealing, and whatever, but I have made a primary focus point to direct all compliments I receive to God so that He may be glorified instead of me. I love compliments, and ironically, my love language is words of affirmation. That's why this is all so strange and such a struggle for me. I don't EVER want to be conceited!!!!

Moving forward, I've been trying to create those "new sparks" again in my marriage. I've been wearing heels here and there (How many women do you see wearing heels these days? Hardly any. Usually you see whores wearing heels. And I'm sorry - no pun intended at all - if I just stepped on your toes by saying this), brushing my hair and giving it body, putting it up in cute styles (though I'm still a foreigner to hair styles. My hair hasn't been as long as it currently since since I was 3 or 4 years old), and playing around with makeup and perfume. My husband loves it all! He really does! I've been praying for God to give me a pure heart throughout my exploration of what's "ok" and what's just not ok at all. I've also been praying that I would not lose focus of what really matters. Consider this my little step into walking, after being a crawler for so long. I say this because I don't want to deceive people. I'm a really outgoing, friendly (some say borderline flirtatious to the extreme) person, and I am loyal to my husband 100%. I want my heart to be in the right place.

I think part of my struggle is how I perceive other beautiful women in the church. I have seen some women who say they are so right with God but parade themselves around in the finer jewels of life, heels every day, expensive make up from Sephora and stores like that, and more clothes and shoes and bags and accessories than I can even dream of!! You know what I dream of!?! I dream of wearing heels and a flowing cute red 50s dress. That's my biggest clothing dream. Big whoop, right? But see, I hear more about looks and trivial things from these beautiful Christian women than I hear about their wanting to honor God through it all. I can't judge them, even if I wanted to, because it's all confusing to me. Yea, what's at the heart matters, but it is my firm belief that whatever's in the heart will show itself through actions and words.

So I'm wearing makeup. It takes too long to put on, it's annoying, it gets on my fingers, and I have to reapply it if I sweat for 5 minutes. Is there really a point to the hassle?! Really?! If it's a big deal to me, I should just not wear it, right? But I'm trying to find a balance between who I used to be and who I'm learning God sees me as, and as I write this I hear God saying, "Look. I know you don't want to cause men to stumble. Men sin, though, just as you do with what you should or should not wear. We drink wine and eat bread to remember Christ even though we serve it to alcoholics and gluten-intolerant people. We all have sin in our lives. Some live by it, and some repent of it as it is revealed to them. But you can be beautiful and not worry about who is behind or before you. I am with you wherever you go. And if a man stumbles, the man must repent. You are not at fault for a sin you do not know exists in a person. Be the amazing woman I made you to be, without bondage, without fear for what the world thinks or does, and without looking back. No one sees you as you were before. No one even believes you when you tell them about who you were. Just keep your eyes on Me and I'll lead you through this."

Woah. Ok, I'm going to say this right now: I am that girl (or was that girl) in church who wrote in her journal the whole time the pastor was speaking. Most of the time, people thought I was being rude and didn't care for what was being said. But see, God talks to me, not only in dreams, and not only in the doldrums of mundane life (exciting as it may be). God also talks to me through writing. And yes, quite literally as I was blogging this, God spoke that to me. God therefore, spoke it to you as well, as you're reading. I know someone needed the reminder, so there ya go. I don't run around saying I'm prophetic. I just know God talks to me and has me say specific things to other people. I went mad at one of my old churches. People were calling me up at 2 am asking for "words from the Lord." It got to be scary. I would eventually tell them "God just told me to tell you to talk to Him instead." They couldn't understand. I hope you can.

Dream Girl

2010-01-26T16:50:00.000-07:00

Did you ever dream, when you were a little girl, of falling in love with a broken down, poor, homeless, insignificant, cynical, hateful bum? Maybe he drove a stolen hunter green Ferrari and wore borrowed clothes from a Mannequin. Did you dream that the man you thought was incredible was really a total jerk, covering up for some political scam he called "classified?" Of course you didn't!

You dreamt of a really attractive man, maybe about "yay" high, with perfect teeth, [brown, blonde, red, gray, black, auburn] hair, a strong grip, your most enjoyed hobbies and art forms, good hygiene, strong morale, ferocious loyalty, and an excellent sense of humor to match his tenacious sense of business ethics, right? A man of fairytale ethos! They exist, don't they? After all, why shouldn't you have the best? You do well in school (when you're not skipping it), you lie to your parents to sneek out with the big kids at night, and you wear clothes fit for a prostitute. What's not to love!? Why wouldn't that man want you?

I had that dream, and I had the fitting response of my own persona and charisma to boot. I was stylish, I was every man's best friend, I was my own worst enemy, and my looks could kill (as long as you were interested in a high school band geek without inhibitions).

Let me ask you something: Why do little girls dream of that? They dream of fairytale weddings and happily ever afters but they don't dream of their parents' marriages? Ok yes, I know a few out there who have great, long-lasting, happily ever after marriages, but um... they are about 70-80 years old, give or take a few years. They're not in their 20s or 30s!! That's for certain!!!

Why did you dream of that? Why did you think you deserved it? Why did you hope for it? Do you still?

I still dream of it, but for me... my dreams are more fond memories than anything else. The foundation of my love story was not based on seeing a guy at a party, or even at a church group. My fairytale love story is as unconventional as they come, and more often than not, I enjoy telling it just to hear the world's reaction. I am fascinated by thrills, and perhaps that's why God allowed the thrill of it all to overtake me.

Before I elaborate, girls/dreamers/ladies/women/widows/cynical humans with female body parts, tell me your dreams.

I shall sit here and grin while I wait for a small revival of hope and honesty "with the anticipation of a child on Christmas Eve," as my husband put it, for your responses.

More Awesome Photos Coming Your Way!!

2010-01-25T00:08:00.001-07:00

I shall brighten someone's day with these pictures! I'm sure of it! Here goes something!

My sweet Puppy numero uno!

Numero dos. Doesn't she look like a cartoon?!

Awww, sweet Corgi butt!

Don't we just look THRILLED to be alive?! lol

She's not as innocent and serene as she looks. I promise. lol

He's not as innocent as he looks either. Oh wait! He doesn't look innocent here at ALL!

How cute can he be?? Just wait and see! It gets better than this!! :)

Oh Lord, help me and my crazy (and daring enough to post this) self! I am on the RIGHT! Eee-gads! My sister in law Jasmine, is on the left. She's the girl from my last post who's pregnant. : )

This is my tacky "I lost 15 lbs by being a stay-at-home-and-highly-stressed mom" pose!!!

LOL with me!

This is what you get when you make me mad.

I keep telling people,

DON'T MESS WITH AN ANGRY ITALIAN MARINE WIFE!

What part of that do people not understand?

Oh I know! It must be because I'm short.

Fun-sized, I believe, is the correct phrase?

But who needs to be politically correct when politics are so INcorrect?!

Come on! Can I get an "amen" already?!

Azarel is having a blast laughing at his cousin while he flops down the baby slide.

Kids really do bring out the best (and worst) in me.

And by best, I obviously am referring to awesome photographs:

NOT sheer brilliance in character.

Azarel's turn!!

Safe landing! No cuts, no bruises, no whining!

Alright, give it another go, Mini Marine!!

(He totally is a little grunt)

The ultimate Father/son picture. Ugh, I love it.

My "shake what your Mama gave you" shot. LOL

I can't get enough of this face!!!!

Ok, how many of you ladies did he just make want to have another baby?

He's quite the little heart throb. We'll be talking about "guarding the heart" for years and years to come.

"Run run run, as fast as you can, you can't catch me because... because please Mama don't?"

My tiny carpenter is at work! He's too good for construction hats... and clothes too, apparently.

Now you see.. if I'm not blogging, I'm either with my family, cooking, cleaning, or taking pictures. This taking pictures thing... it's how I "cope" with life. It's my therapy. I don't know WHY I find it so relaxing. Maybe it's because I can just tune out the world and live life through a charismatic little lens, noticing the finer details of life. This is my life, through my eyes, for your perspective's enjoyment.

And I do hope you enjoy it.

But in the event that you don't, there are millions of other blogs to follow!

I love you!!! Each and every one!

*muah*

You can't buy me love without a heart.

2010-01-24T16:49:00.000-07:00

My son broke my necklace today. It was a little gold (fake) heart with a cross in the middle, covered in fake diamonds (Why do people glorify such an ugly awful thing as a crucifixion? By the way, Jesus got OFF the cross. He's not still hanging there, oh Catholic church!), with the words "Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name" inscribed on the outside. Why quote a prayer that Jesus said while you walk around in filth and don't know Him at all? Never understood it. Anyway, this entry is not meant to bash the Catholic church. God can do that. He has and He will again on Judgement Day. The necklace I speak of is from my father. Was a gift from him years ago. Azarel just ripped it right off me today, and it made me think (how about that!), "Who is your father anyway? Does your father try to mask horrible things with flowers and jewels? Does he sympathize and understand you fully and truly? Does he offer a hug whenever you're blue? Does he ever make fun of you? Does he encourage you and make you high as a kite with joy when you have obeyed his commands?" My father is God, THE Father.

My biological father is not in my life. He's basically dead to me. That's for another entry, and it has no correlation to this entry at all. I just need to say once again, that I love my Father. And I KNOW He loves me. Even with my nasty, sinful, fleshly desires. He loves me. And what do I do in return? I focus on my faith. I focus on Him. I focus on the holy spirit, I focus on what He has set before me to accomplish, even on the days I feel like hiding or running into a cave and never coming out. His strength sustains me. His love refreshes me. His joy fills me. I am wholly His.

I before E except after... you're pregnant!?!!?

2010-01-24T10:48:00.000-07:00

Pregnant. She's pregnant!!! Again!! My sister in law, who is not 21 yet, has me in stitches. I have been wrestling with some major feelings of inadequacy in my parenting and "wifing," and in the midst of it all, she tells me she's pregnant! It's funny. It has to be funny, or else I'm losing my mind. She already has one baby already, who's 2 and a half months Azarel's minor. Yes she's married, yet she's got goals.. no need to ask those questions. But from my perspective, I keep thinking "How did ONE condom break?!" I sooooo do not want to be pregnant again right now. I can't even get a grip on potty training. The rest I can do just fine, but this nasty little hurdle has me riddled with anxiety! Will I get through this in one piece? I remind myself that obviously many parents of lower caliber than I have managed to do it, so I should be able to with flying colors, but some days, to be completely raw, I just want to be back in California in my cruddy little base apartment with Nicholas, waking up to Marines running with cadences, Colors at 0800, and the sunrise baking me to a crispy Italian bread crumb. She's pregnant!!! God must have huge favor for this girl. Maybe because God knows how completely inadequate I feel lately, He's being gracious in NOT allowed me to be with child right now. She wants to be thin again and worries about pregnancy complications... and I'm worried about potty training. How trivial could I be?!?!!

Anyway, it's a sunny Sunday morning. I took my vitamins, I have a glass of water, and I'm eating what's left of Azarel's left over macaroni and cheese. What a healthy way to start a day! I've been up for about three hours now, playing with Azarel, feeding him and feeding him again, changing two big diapers, sitting him on the potty twice now to no avail.

Come save me.

Why am I not in church? I'm tired of looking. I believe next month or maybe in March (Depends on the bills entirely) we are going to try to get a DVD series of The Truth Project so we can have people over and watch it once a week.

I need strength, vision, direction, and a backbone. lol

Six Word Saturday - 6WS

2010-01-22T22:15:00.000-07:00

I'm Not Sure This is Peachy

~Explanation: My husband got a job offer as a civilian contractor for government Intelligence as an Iraqi National. Basically, he'd be an interpreter, masking as an Iraqi, to help Marines and other military branches train. The problem is.. no no... the problems are that we'd have to transfer to 29 Palms, California, Nicholas is currently in school, and he's currently being "fixed." What awkward timing to have to turn down a well-paying job in the nasty desert! I would probably stay here in Idaho if he went there, because I've worked too hard at making this a home (more than a house). However, we only have one truck (and two motorcycles: one's out of commission and the other is his), and one growing infant. We both hate being out of the Corps, and we both has to ask God for his peace and contentment with our current situations.

By the way, you're probably wondering "How did he get that job offer?!" Well, we got a phone call, to our new number (that the military doesn't even have yet - or so we thought), in Arabic. Nicholas answered it. He understood what it was because he is fluent in Arabic. Yes, you read that correctly. Nicholas knows enough to have conversations in 16 languages. Isn't that amazing/disgusting?! He knows more Italian than his Italian wife!!!

We'll just twiddle our thumbs a while, do what we can with what we've got, and stay focused on bring God glory. Our lives and our hearts are certainly nothing glorious, but we have each other, and love is more than anything earthly glorious anyway.

I am not sure this is peachy, but it is definitely flavorful and robust. : )

These are a few of my favorite things

2010-01-22T21:53:00.001-07:00

Nicholas bought me roses a couple days ago. My camera captured their beauty quite nicely, I think!

I used to see pictures of roses on Bibles and old sheet music and I always dreamed I'd be able to take a similar picture. Now my dream has come true. <3

And that about sums it up. Today was a good day. Got the house cleaned... though I have about 4 loads of laundry to fold (after I finish procrastinating, I suppose), and I got myself motivated to keep going ~~some other time~~. When I'm tired, I am not only grumpy, but I am very UNmotivated. On that note, I better get off line for the evening. Tomorrow I am going to see the Boise Philharmonic play!! Just Nicholas and I are going. Could this possibly mean... a... a...a.. a date?!

~Amen!~

God's not finished with us.

2010-01-21T22:34:00.002-07:00

Dear Followers,

I haven't written much as of late primarily because I don't know how to get my words out. I don't know how to release hurt and forgiveness without someone else getting hurt. Hurting people is never my goal, but I must remember that to hold in pain and NOT release it also causes myself pain, and that's just not something I'm ok with either. On that note, I'll be honest about the past couple weeks, and diffuse some of the confusion about my last entry. Indeed, a close relative to me hurt me. Indeed, it was my husband, and yes, a lot of painful wounds were made. I just want you all to know that before I go into detail, this is not my present situation. I am not fearful, I do not feel threatened in any way, and God's grace and mercy abounds. You may not understand this, but all I ask on most days is that I would be found blameless, without blemish or scar, so that God may receive what glory He is due. For what a gift lies within me as Christ Jesus, who gave Himself for me, that by His spirit and by His stripes, I may be healed, delivered, and set free from all pain, all destruction, and all words that have ever, do presently, and will in the future come against me. I pray this entry would not only enlighten you to some of what I've been through, but also that you would take comfort in knowing that prayer in humility and meekness is indeed heard. Desperation gets you far, and repentance makes the heart stronger. Be at peace while you read this, please.

Just a few days after Nicholas's surgery took place, he was indulging in oxyocodone, the VA hospital's pain reducer of choice. They did not know at the time that Nicholas was not only discharged with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) from the Marine Corps, but also with a TBI (Traumatic Brain Injury), and if they had, they would not have given him the dose they did. Nicholas did not realize the effect the drug would have on his psyche, considering all things. Also, consider that with the memory loss he suffered and the scar tissue left in his head from his drained blood clot, short term memory could not be expected of him. This is why I made a point to remind him to check up with doctors and counselors, as my job stands to support him and challenge him in ways I'm supposed to (in a submissive and respectful kind of way). I fell short in nagging him to the point where he did not want me to mention ANYTHING about checking up and following through with appointments, so I stopped. And then.. his memory escaped him, and he did just as I thought would happen: He stopped checking in.

I believe if we had waited much longer (as his Temporary Disabled Retirement List eligibility requires an 18 month reevaluation to determine if he's fit for combat or fit for Permanent Retirement) to get all this done, the VA could possibly say "Well sir, because you did not follow through with your end of the bargain, we relinquish your disability pay."

All this is to say that I believe God worked in this mess, but it sure was one big mess!!!! I am thankful for it now (more or less, for getting through it alive), but it sure was ugly.

A couple days after his surgery, I had made plans to go take pictures of the sunrise with my friend/sister, Shelley. We miscalculated the sunrise time by approximately one hour and in my foolish glee of capturing incredible pictures, I didn't check with Nicholas. The oxycodone made him a major jerk, and to be frank, I wanted him to figure out that he in fact DID need me to help him. He had been trying to do things all on his own and though I knew it would be wrong for him to do, in his stubbornness I allowed him to do what he wanted. And in my own stubbornness (and some smugness too), I waited for him to "get over himself" so to speak, and ask me for help. I didn't want him to beg. I simply wanted a civil "Please help me." Instead.... on my way home from the trip, I received various text messages to my phone consisting of "I hate you. F* this, f* that, f* you. I want you to pack your things when you come home and leave for three months. Take the baby with you. I f-ing hate you." I was shocked and HATED the medicine he was, knowing full well that this man was not my husband. It shook me to the core, and I wondered how much verbal abuse I was going to have to take before he got a clue.

Upon my arrival home with the baby and Shelley, Nicholas proceeded to give me the meanest glare ever. His eyes were glazed over and the pupils were dilated to an extreme. It was like his eyes were solid black. He was red-faced and sweating, cursing and screaming. I went home to find my husband, and I found a monster. He screamed profanities around the house, right in front of our son. He screamed about an inch from my face, telling me to leave. I was so upset by it all I said "Well if I'm going to leave, you may as well just take this," and I proceeded to hand him my wedding ring. He froze and yelled some more, resisting the urge to punch me. His hand shook, and I yelled through my tears, "You know, if you're wanting to hurt me that badly, just go and do it!!! JUST DO IT! My heart already feels like you've punched me anyway!" He antagonized me some more, telling me I was to leave the debit card, leave the truck key, and leave the cell phone, but take the baby. More was said, but you can tell the conversation was completely irrational. That's all you need to know. I decided a bit later to take the baby for a walk, and when I was leaving and Nicholas sat at his computer screen, I sent him a message saying "I'm going for a walk. Are you coming or not?" He got mad at me and asked what my problem was, like him being mad should not have made me upset... like being mad at the cursing and screaming and stress level was a strange thing. So I told him why I was upset. And then he took off. I called his mom up in tears, not knowing what to do with myself, knowing full well that it was the medication acting up with his PTSD and TBI, but what could I do? She suggested I write a letter, since my words had no impact. I went for a walk, came back, he was still gone, and then I got to it.

Perhaps the worst thing I did after that was to send the letter to Nicholas's mom first, to see if it was the right thing to send. I explained what changes I had seen in him, pointed out some of the circular patterns I've noticed with PTSD and how it's hurt because he's refused to get help from the Vet Center and the VA. I explained that the things he had done (not going into that much detail) were very harmful and no one deserved it. I called up his mom to let her know I had sent it, and as I called her, she was reading it. She asked one question, I burst into tears, and then the real fun began.

Nicholas was still gone when this all happened. I had no idea where he went because he didn't tell me. I packed up, racing around the house for all things of value to me, grabbed the baby and took off with my sister in law to her house. I missed Nicholas's return by only minutes. But that was it. I couldn't live like that anymore. I stayed with them for a while and then eventually went to Nicholas's mom's house to spend the night and hopefully regain myself... which didn't happen. I was lost, I was isolated, no one understood the pain I was going through, and try as they might, they could not correct my present situation. This was between Nicholas and God, God and I, Nicholas and I. I felt so bad for Azarel too. He was a stressed mess. I spent that night praying/crying my brains out with my sister there. I did NOT want to be alone. I passed out on the couch eventually, and woke up the next morning to Azarel eating breakfast with his Mei Mei in the kitchen. I couldn't believe that I was so exhausted I didn't hear my son wake up. How pathetic could I be?! Still no word from Nicholas and I hadn't called him... because he didn't have a phone. I found out after that from a friend that he stopped over the house at 2am because Nicholas was suicidal. Took him to the hospital and got him some pills for the pain. I got a note from him later that day. A long and deluded, painful letter to read. He accepted no responsibility for his actions, felt no remorse, and had nothing but awful blaming things to say to me. I took that letter and got myself an appointment with the Vet Center in Boise that day, at my wit's end. I told them everything. They basically said that Nicholas needed a lot of help, and if he ever tried to harm the baby, I was to get a restraining order put on him. It was difficult to hear that. All I wanted was a good marriage. All I wanted was to work together toward that good marriage. And the counselor said "Well I know that's what you want, but right now it doesn't sound like Nicholas wants that, and you can't have it if you don't both want it." That's not verbatim, but she it's true, and I knew it. God had to hear my prayers. He just HAD to. I didn't want a divorce, the ring never came off my finger, and when I left the house, I took all our important pictures, our vows.. everything, because I couldn't stand the thought of being apart from him. I was living a nightmare come true. Only, way worse. She said because I was not the veteran, I could not get counseling for myself, but they did marriage counseling and if my husband was willing, there was much they could do for both of us. It was at this time that she pointed out what the computer showed about Nicholas's follow-ups: Nothing. He hadn't followed up with anything, and if he didn't, what could they do? Nothing. It showed that he quit his anti-depressants cold-turkey, which caused his brain to re-wire and then snap, and then mixed with the medication and a TBI they didn't know about because he never told them, wow... it was BAD! (I wish I was making this up.)

I went home a bit later and told the family what was going on. If Nicholas would not agree to get help, we were going to have to pull outside forces in to get him help, willfully or not. There was no other option. Through the course of miracles, Nicholas actually let his brother in the house to talk to him and the next day, I went to see him. For the first time in quite some time, we talked for a long time about what he was really feeling without raising our voices once. I prayed before I went there and I prayed while I was there.

The house looked so depressing. No familiarity lingered because he took it all down. Anything that made him think of me was out of sight. He barricaded the front door with a book shelf and dead bolted the side door, not wanting visitation and not wanting to leave his only home. He was in a lot of pain, but I heard his heart for the first time in a long time. I found out that not only did he not remember what he had said, he had overdosed on the pain pills that morning that I went to take pictures. The medicine said to take no more than three pills in four hours, and he took six pills in one hour. Tears were shed, and he agreed to finally get help that he'd been neglecting. He had been suicidal in fact. He saw no reason for living. And while before when questioned about his anger, he showed no remorse and dodged questions entirely, he now broke into shameful weeping with much regret. Finally, I felt like I was talking to my husband. The guilt of being exactly what he NEVER wanted to be hit him like a mac truck running over an empty paper cup. This was good though. It left room for God to work in him, and work in him is exactly what happened. Somehow this conversation was such a heart to heart that we left with hugs and kisses and 'I love you's.' My hope had finally come back. I left for a couple hours to check out an art store with scrap booking stuff and agreed to come back and get him so we could get out of the house for a bit. We would go spend the night OUTSIDE of our house, which clearly needed to be prayed through, cleaned out, and overhauled with the demonic depression that lingered. However, when I came back, and decided to make things easy and get some food to contribute to his family's house and some clothes for him, deodorant, toothbrush, socks, underwear and what have you, he snapped again, glaring at me, thinking that I was just going to take the food and run. So he took off. Scared little me called the cops and reported him. They found him and I ran like a thirsty African would run to a water hole! I was scared that he'd hate me for it and I thought for sure I just disabled his chances of ever getting into law enforcement. It turned out he was going to Wal-mart to buy toenail clippers, and found the cops' searching for him rather amusing, especially because I called them. (I don't know what kind of humor that is, but it wasn't too funny to me.) I talked with him later about everything else... though this part is a blur as to how it all happened, and he came and stayed the night with me on the terms that no one would bring up anything that happened. And no one did.

We stayed at his parents' house for two nights and then came home together. I waited for a call from the counselor at the Vet Center to schedule an appointment for us and she did. That day, we went together and sought something real. We remembered what we were in this for, and remembered what we were not in it for.

Nicholas is my husband, for better or for worse. He's my other half. Most days, I say he's my better half and I'm not simply saying that to flatter him. We are on a road to understanding why he thinks the way he does, what his PTSD and TBI has to do with our current lives together, and how we can communicate in positive and effective ways, so that we don't EVER get to that point again.

Our house is back to normal now, I have a restored zeal for being a housewife, we have some new additions to the interior design of it all, and I'm spending more time making sure my husband feels appreciated, especially when he shows how much he appreciates me. We've been taking opportunities to enhance our desire for one another through games, car rides, holding hands, walking away from aggressive reactions to things, holding our tongue and keeping our voices softer. We've updated our wedding scrapbook, found new ways to make love (I know, too much information. Oh well, you're reading my personal life here.), bought living room curtains, some food, some girlie things for me, some presents for people who were huge supports to us through it all, and have prayed together.. which felt more refreshing than all the rest of the stuff. We've gotten healthier food in the house, vitamins, and patience. All these things we give thanks to God for.

Stress has one huge upside for us: We lose weight. lol

God's not finished with us.

Please carry me

2010-01-13T15:08:00.001-07:00

Do not think of me as strong. I'm not even sure who people think they're talking to when they tell me they think I'm strong. Lots of people tell me I'm one of the strongest women they know, but I can tell you with wholehearted sincerity that there is nothing strong about me at all. My prayer is that where I fail and when I fall, God may lift me up and make something worthy of loving out of this ball of nasty that I am and feel most days. My ability to love is pathetic, my ability to forgive is not what it should be, my ability to focus is not what it needs to be, and my ability to honor those who wrong me is so below good it should be a sin. Oh wait, it IS a sin. Truthfully, I am one of the weakest people you'll ever meet. And if you think otherwise, whatever strength you see come from me is in fact, from God. *deep breath*

I have been through hell in the last few days. I understand at a deeper level what Jesus meant when He said we are to love the least of the brothers. Love the unlovable. Honor them. Indeed, pray for those who wrong you. Bless those who curse you. Even... if they're really close to you. Even... if they're related to you.

Lord, teach me how to love appropriately. I'm stuck somewhere in the middle between good Christian doormat and confrontational tiger. I can't see the door to get out, and I can't find the little jar to put my little seed of faith in, hoping to preserve it. Thankfully the knot residing in my stomach is not one of reluctance to be honest before God. My humility is great right now, and I am in a spot (again) of total and utter desperation.

One of the most trying things in the world is to be married to a man who is so worthy of respect and worthy of admiration, who you've given every ounce of your being to, only for that person to throw it all away in a single phrase. I don't even need to write details in here. this isn't for anyone but me, and I won't need to reread details later on in order to remember them. I need God's guidance. I am the last on the list, if I even place at all.

OMW - One Minute Writer

2010-01-11T23:19:00.002-07:00

One Minute Writer
writing prompt of the day:
Parts of America have been experiencing record-breaking low temperatures. Think of a product you could invent to help people stay warm.

Perhaps, a solar powered hot chocolate maker/brick oven!!!!!!! Wow this sounds really good to me right now!
It should be a product that comes in different sizes: some for parties, some for personal use. A solar powered brick oven would not only allow you to sleep inside it if the temp drops too much, but it could have a thermo-attachment so that in heavily snowed areas, you could attach it to an igloo! (how unrealistic can I get with this?) lol. I would like to be able to make bread in it, soups, everything. And once powered up, the charge should last for one week. And... here's the best part. It should be government funded. Take away the funding that's being put aside by private insurance agencies for abortions and put it to better use! YES! WE CAN! lol

What a FABULOUS afternoon!!!

2010-01-10T20:11:00.002-07:00

Today at sunset my sister (extremely close friend) Shelley and I took my little Azarel (and my gorgeous camera) to a park near by, where there are ducks and benches and a river and playground and stuff. I never EVER imagined I'd have as much fun as I did!!! I'll post a few photos here, but here's the album they all came from if you'd like to see the rest!! Pictures I am Actually Proud Of

The air was crispy, the sun was bright and sinking, the ducks were having a blast, and thanks to a group of kids throwing popcorn out for the taking, the ducks were going wild!! Azarel stood like a statue, mesmerized by it all, for a good ten minutes, until he decided to sit down and enjoy the view from a 1/2 shorter perspective. I, on the other hand, was racing to the bank where the poultry was, snapping pictures like mad, and LOVING EVERY SECOND OF IT!!!!

There ya have it! I think those are the best ones, but if you click the link, YOU can be the judge.

After my awesome time at the park, I came home and made a big salad of lettuce, olives, carrots, cabbage, green pepper, tomato, mushrooms, croutons, Italian seasoned chicken, fresh shredded Parmesan cheese, and creamy caesar dressing with a side of garlic bread. It was to die for.

Wait no no, that's not right. It was to LIVE for!! Cuz I want to eat it again and again! lol

His Voice

2010-01-09T20:30:00.004-07:00

I heard His voice before.

I heard it loud and clear. The whisper put to shame the cries of my life, the sorrows I could scarcely see past. Yea, I've heard God's voice before.

His holy whisper pierced my heart, so I sent my fear to meet it. How simple could I be before my King of Kings? How awful did I know I was to disbelieve these things. How trembled I was before my thoughts, for my very wounded heart could not fly wings, nor could I just give up everything. I could not run, I could not hide. God knew exactly what was inside. And He dove down with his majestic whisper, a grip in my mind that I could not shake. No He would not leave me to my thoughts, as destruction and flashbacks I circled through. My fears were real as the beauty before me. God had shipwrecked my chances of falling, for He knew who He was in me, His thoughts so high above me.

And in this meeting where fear did fail, all my fears He held. He took my tears upon Himself, and knew I well how relief felt. Yea, I was overcome. The waterfall of love had come. Of circumstance my prayers were voiced, of vanity I asked my soul be erased, of wonder I asked that I be filled so that this ugly world I could boldly face.

Although I knew fully not how meek or humbled I should feel, twas to my shock when God appealed, oh that I might know a different way: That I may walk in grace. That I may know His place. That I may know my own place as I humbly seek His face. That no matter what happens, His voice is my strength.

His voice I've heard before.