FHE

Great family home evening tonight...the BBQ chicken tacos were a big hit (especially when accompanied by more garden fresh salsa!), then we ate ice cream and used Emily Christensen's writings on Jacob 5 to illuminate the first section of that very long chapter. Afterward we played a game on Kelly's iPhone (which for the record she paid for, not me!) called Heads Up and had a blast. Oh, and I forgot the sparkler fun in the driveway. 

Tough Love

My youngest daughter made an error in judgement that has resulted in a lot of tears on both of our parts. While communicating with a friend on Minecraft (a multiplayer on-line game) she gave him her personal cell phone number. Mind you, she has been admonished many, many times not to give out personal info, but justified it because she has played with him and talked with him through the game so many times.

I only just discovered it recently when I started to notice how secretive she was being with her phone, and how suddenly she carried it with her all the time. While at dinner Thursday, I had the distinct impression to ask her for her phone. When I took the phone and looked at the messages, I about died of a heart-attack. Messages from this supposedly 14 year old boy who theoretically lives in Baltimore, MD were filled with the "F" word and very graphic in nature. Hers in response were not. I told her I was shocked. She told me she really liked him, and according to his messages, he "f-ing" loved her. I asked her how she felt about his language and messages, and she told me he wants to change and be better. I asked her if she wanted to discontinue the relationship or if she wanted me to. She said she would deal with it.

Later that night, texts were still being exchanged back and forth, and I knew I would have to take action. After consulting with her father, we decided to change her phone number, block this young man from making contact on her phone, and temporarily block ALL messaging.

Needless to say this did not make me very popular with my sweet girl. She was FURIOUS. She refused to talk to me when I picked her up from her dad's house, and refused to go to church with me. She used the fact that Kelly refuses to go to support her argument, a fact which pained me to my core. I insisted that she go, knowing that the spirit at church could help her see reason. And sure enough, by the end of church, she was feeling better, but still not back to normal.

My heart was so heavy this morning. As a single parent, I am frequently confronted with my own inadequacies and failures, and this incident, combined with Kelly's complete lack of regard for anything spiritual, and all the stresses of parenting during summer vacation when the kids are home and I am not, lead me to a place of deep sadness. For a while, I was inconsolable. Church made me feel better, as it always does, but I am struggling with how to turn the ship around and keep our family heading in a positive direction.

Let's face it, if I get to the Celestial Kingdom (and that's a big IF), and my kids aren't there with me, I won't want to stay. Period. Everything I have done and do on a daily basis is focused on helping them grow up with faith and strength of character to sustain them so that we can all be together for ever.

Sometimes love is so tough, on so many fronts.

The slamming of a door

There are few things more expressive than the sound of slamming doors. Sometimes, it's the quick push of the door when hot children are dashing to be the first in the pool. Other times, it's the forceful explosion of anger between siblings too frustrated to communicate any other way. There's the quick flick of the door that indicates a desire for privacy. And there's the house rattling slam that follows an all out fight.

I used the slamming of doors when I was young only rarely. I knew what kind of consequence might and often did follow that kind of demonstration. Instead, I would merely envision slamming the door in great detail in my mind's eye, often including details like someone getting a rather severe nosebleed from close contact with my fearsome door slamming skills.

As it turned out, I became quite the door slammer with those around me. Purely figuratively speaking of course. Having been blessed with the gift of loving others easily, and even loving others too much, I was too vulnerable. And I experienced all too often that those I loved had great power to hurt me in every possible way. It was a defense mechanism I employed when I felt that someone was getting a little too close, that I had let my boundaries slip a little too far. It protected me from letting others see how afraid, sad, vulnerable and broken I was.

Sad to say, but I haven't outgrown this tendency. I look at someone's behavior and see a threat of harm and WHAM! There goes the door. In an unguarded moment, I realize I love someone who may not love me back and with a quick flip of my mental wrist, I hide behind my slammed door. I let someone know details about me and my life that I still haven't become comfortable with, and there's a high probability that the door will close hard and fast.

On the surface at least, I still love and interact and tease. But the walls are up and the door is firmly closed, perhaps even locked. I've tried with all my might to overcome this tendency. I have prayed about it often. In fact, the Lord has made it clear to me from time to time that I must trust and allow certain others into the grimy corners of my heart and soul. Sometimes these make sense to me...like my counselor, doctor, bishops, visiting teachers, and so forth. With these individuals, I find myself disclosing what I must and watching for the first signs of danger, even when I know they have proven themselves trustworthy in the past.

There are others though that I feel directed to share things with that I don't understand. When I am rebuffed or hurt by these individuals, and the Lord continues to encourage me to be vulnerable, I feel panic stricken. I try to be obedient. I try to put my trust in him instead of in people, who nearly always let me down. I beg him to help me see these individuals as he sees them so that I can take courage. And he HAS blessed me with the ability to see the potential of people, a blessing that has proven to be both a blessing as well as a curse.

Suffice it to say that I find myself trying to decide whether or not to slam a few doors. At a time when I am feeling extra lonely (it has been 9 years of being alone!), and when my emotions are being stirred up everyday by the growing pangs of my family and my work, I find the absence of people in my life to be a stark reminder of exactly how isolating the slamming of doors can be.

Two bits of sad news

I'm feeling a little sad on this Thursday night. Today when I arrived at work, I was told a senior gentleman who I had become close to had passed away. I was relieved that he was no longer suffering, and happy that he's on the other side of mortality, but so sad, too. He was one of those people that I had instantly hit it off with. He jokingly called me Cavanaugh every time he saw me, and always had wonderful things to say. I visited with him every chance I could, basking in his sense of humor, his kindness and his warmth. I met several of his wonderful adult children and I introduced mine to him. When he met my children, he told them such wonderful things about me and made me blush with his comments. I will surely miss his wit and his outstretched hands.

I also learned today that a young girl, the niece of a friend of mine, who has been battling cancer was today declared terminal. They will be trying one last round of treatment, but are now facing the hard reality of saying goodbye.

I'll be saying some extra prayers for these families who are experiencing grief and pain. :(