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Tuesday, March 29, 2016

In Response To Mom Trolls

I rarely pay any attention to Internet trolls. You know the people I'm talking about. They're the ones that find the beautifully written, emotional posts about controversial topics and post the most negative, critical, and often flat out rude responses. They're the ones that find every opportunity to tear others down via anonymous (or sometimes not) comments because they don't have to face the person they're attacking. They're obnoxious critics, social media bullies, and ultimately they're cowards. So I ignore them for the most part, until today.

I follow Mama Lion Strong on Facebook. Jennifer Campbell is a health, fitness, and lifestyle blogger from Canada. She recently posted a heartfelt and emotional commentary on the recent drowning death of a two year-old boy in rural Canada. I think it's a post with which most mothers can identify. None of us are perfect, and accidents happen. It's an eloquent post that truly tugs at your heart strings, especially in light of the tremendous loss of little Chase Martens. Enter the trolls. Almost unbelievably, their attacks ranged from "you're an idiot" to "I'm going to let CPS know what a terrible mother you are." Really?! My thoughts on CPS aside, that's a gross misuse of an already overburdened and underfunded government entity. Not to mention the fact that, as I said, most mothers can relate. We've all had those moments when we take 90 seconds to go pull the laundry out of the dryer, only to return and find our child playing with a pair of scissors we thought we'd hidden well enough. Or maybe they fall playing in what we think is our relatively safe backyard and break their arm in two places. Or maybe they get a bead stuck up their nose. I am positive that every single mother out there has those stories. How can I be so sure?

Because there's no such thing as a perfect mother or a perfectly safe child.

They simply don't exist. The only perfect human being to ever walk this planet lived 2,000 years ago and He was actually God incarnate. I won't tell you every last detail of His life right now because that could take forever, mostly because I love talking about Him. For now, I will tell you that it is my faith in Him that gets me through each and every day. Not all days are a bloody battle, but they do all require strength, wisdom, and sometimes protection from things I have no way of controlling or predicting. This doesn't make me a bad mother; it makes me human.

So in defense of Jennifer Campbell (who handled the criticisms very graciously!), I would like us to completely change directions with our line of thinking. When tragedy strikes, we focus on the negative what-ifs: what if I had done something differently? What if I had said something? What if...what if...what if...as if somehow everything is our fault because it's all within our control. I'll reiterate because it's important: as much as I want to protect my kids from everything, I CAN'T because I CAN'T control everything.  That's not to say there aren't precautions I can take, and I'm sure there will always be things that we "could have done" when these situations arise. But when parents are mourning the loss of their child, that is not the right time to dwell on what could have been.



Instead, what if we focused on the positive what-ifs? What if, instead of criticizing, we encourage each other? What if, instead of pointing out flaws, we highlight strengths? What if we were to remember the good moments? What if we learned our lessons and moved on from the bad moments? I am not trying to be flippant or dismissive of grief. I am simply trying to say that Chase Martens' family needs our support. Want to get real down and dirty? That's what Susan Klebold and her family needed in the wake of the Columbine shooting. I'm sure that touches a lot of nerves. But can we really blame parents for everything that happens, every choice their children make? Whether it's toddling out of the safe haven of a back yard or murderously terrorizing a school, the depth of these tragedies will effect countless lives for decades to come. These mothers are already in the most immense, dark, lonely pain known to mankind. Who are we to rub salt in their wounds? But for the grace of God, we're not in their shoes.

Every single day we are given is a gift. Loving the people in our lives is our privilege. We are not guaranteed or promised long, perfectly safe lives. Rather, we are promised both blessings and sorrows. The nature of living in a broken world means that as imperfect humans we will live imperfect lives. Mothers are no different, try as we might to anticipate, prevent, and protect our children from every possible threat. The most powerful thing we can do is to continuously give them to God. I pray over L every night, pleading with God to grant her a long life full of blessings while acknowledging that she is not mine. She's on loan to me, and I am overwhelmed by such an incredible honor. I am awed. And I am flawed. The most powerful thing I can do, the best thing I can do, is drown her in prayer and love every day. And when it comes to it, I will support other mothers as much as possible.

We're all just doing our best to love and care for our children. Why wouldn't we support that? 

A haplessly imperfect but humbly hopeful Mommy,
Cassie



Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Melodies in Miseries

In working on my Masters degree in counseling I've noticed a couple of disturbingly pervasive lies:

"I'm a Christian; I shouldn't need counseling if I have enough faith,"
and
"I'm a counselor; I can take care of myself."

Common sense reveals these thoughts for the absurd lies that they are, but they aren't usually spelled out so plainly.  They come in the form of prideful attitudes and judgmental thoughts. They are terrible, insidious lies that have the power to cause long-lasting damage. I should know, I bought into these lies for years.

For some strange reason, there is a societal stigma against seeking mental help. Our society has developed a prideful attitude which says that asking for help is a sign of weakness, that we need to fend for ourselves and solve our own problems. It's ironic that in a world so obsessed with sharing every triviality on social media, we still can't allow for the possibility that sometimes we may have very real, very private problems that require outside help. In the past I told myself that my problems were small in light of "the bigger picture." As a result, I took care of myself for years and let my wounds fester. I was always strong enough to handle it myself. I was fine. I just needed to read my Bible a little more and pray harder. I didn't need anyone else because I had faith and counseling experience.

I don't mean to sound flippant or arrogant; I'm only trying to be transparent about my thought processes. I'm a counselor at heart. I am passionate about helping others through their darkest days - everyone, that is, except myself. Being both a counselor AND a Christian surely meant I didn't need anyone else's help; furthermore, I knew what a counselor would say and thus could basically counsel myself through my own problems. Wrong.

This attitude led me to a total emotional breakdown, after which I found myself baring my broken and humiliated soul on a counselor's couch.

Last year I was spiraling out of control emotionally, and the counselor inside me finally recognized that I needed outside help to pull out of it. At first, I kept it a secret from everyone because I was so ashamed. I was supposed to be stronger than that; I was worried that my Christian friends would judge me for not having enough faith, and that people would doubt my abilities as a counselor based on my perceived weakness. Again, I was wrong. In addition to seeking counseling, I reached out to a couple of very dear friends whom I knew to be wise Godly women. They added the perspective and loving support that I desperately needed. I learned more about myself and God in those few months of counseling and Christian accountability than I had in the previous 20-something years of my life.

You see, there's absolutely no shame in seeking counsel. NONE. I love these lyrics from a recent Amy Grant song:
We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

There's beauty in brokenness. Think about it. I love the story of the woman who washed Jesus' feet with her tears. She came to him, broken and worthless in the eyes of the world. He didn't judge her. He didn't push her away or lecture her about her problems. Instead, He showed her the deepest grace and love any human being can ever know. He lifted her out of her pain and redeemed her battered heart.

For weeks I was completely lost in the issues that seemed to be swirling around me, stealing my joy and threatening to break my spirit. I knew God loved me, and I knew I would get through it. But I also knew I needed help reorienting myself and redefining my perspective. Through the help of a couple of Godly women and a Christian counselor, I was able to get back on my feet and jump back into the fray. I will admit that in counseling, I didn't so much need the counselor to tell me what was wrong with me. I really only needed someone to dump on emotionally; I needed someone to listen, to help me shoulder the burden for a little while, and to help me regain a positive, battle-ready perspective. I have since stopped going to counseling, but I still lean on my friends periodically for accountability and continued support.

I can now look back and share this experience with you without feeling embarrassed. I was struggling, I sought out Christian support, and now I'm even more prepared to help others. I don't see it as a weakness. I knew then, as I do now, that God has given me everything I need to fight whatever battles come my way. The difference is that I now know that sometimes some of the best weapons I have are the love, prayers, and support of others. If I can be humble enough to seek their support, and to admit to God that I cannot do everything on my own, I will be better equipped (and allied!) to fight these battles. Please understand: I'm not saying that faith in God is not enough. I am saying that sometimes God requires us, in faith, to reach out and ask for help. That's one of the reasons we have pastors, mentors, parents, and friends. It's the reason we have the church, the unified body of Christ.

But God has put the body together, giving greater honor to the parts that lacked it,
so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.
Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.
So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers,
to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up
until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ. From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.

I don't share this to garner pity or to make myself sound spiritually mature (which I'm certainly not!). I truly hope that in sharing this, someone is encouraged and perhaps even empowered to ask for help in their personal battles. There is no shame in seeking help. In fact, I do believe that God is blessed when we humbly seek His face in our brokenness. Jesus said that all you need is faith the size of a mustard seed to move mountains (Matt 17:20). Think of how much more you could do with faith the size of a mountain (the combined help of other believers)!  

Hapless but hopeful,
Cassie


Thursday, March 17, 2016

I'm Sew Fancy

Happy St. Patrick's Day everyone!

One thing you should know about my husband: he is the ultimate gift-giver. He always figures out the most thoughtful and generous gifts, and they're often things you didn't even know you wanted or needed. And it doesn't matter what's on your wish list; if he doesn't think it's a good gift,  you're not getting it (at least not from him). For example, when we were dating he got me a guitar and an instructional set so I could learn to play. I was thrilled because it was secretly one of my bucket list goals. I started learning right away, but then eventually life happened. I love that guitar, and I mourn the fact that I don't have enough time to dedicate to building the callouses necessary to play. I can't fathom trying to change gross diapers with raw blistered fingers. Ew. It also isn't exactly conducive to nap time. So my poor guitar is currently gathering dust in the basement until I can show it some love, perhaps when I'm done with my Masters.

More recently, my hubby has given me a few gifts that I have been able to consistently put to good use. One such gift is my sewing machine. I've done a little sewing in my life, mostly just learning the basics in middle school home economics and a dress with my Grandma. So when he gave me the sewing machine for Christmas a couple of years ago, I was excited and more than a little intimidated. It also sat in the basement and gathered dust for quite a few months until we were able to get moved into our home and get used to our new status as a family of 3 (well, 4 if you include Cooper dog). I desperately wanted to try it out, and as you saw in my nursery reveal ("A Nursery for L"), I finally got the chance.

And now I'm ADDICTED to sewing. I mean, I've really got the itch to stitch! I made Christmas pillow covers, an accent pillow for my hubby's office, and I started making a blanket out of scraps. In my first-ever attempt at a clothing item, I made L a little dress using a very basic pattern. I learned a TON just in that little project. Here are a few tips:
  • Make sure your needle isn't chipped/burred/broken. If it is at all damaged, it'll catch on your fabric and create tiny little snags. "They" (the sewing experts I guess) recommend that you get a new needle after 8 hours of sewing. I'm not sure how you're supposed to keep track of that, or maybe it's just a conspiracy to get everyone to buy more needles. Either way, I didn't do that so I learned that old needles damage fabric. Oops.
  • When doing a zig-zag (or overcast) stitch, make sure to adjust your tension. If you don't, it'll bunch your fabric and make the stitches all uneven. When done right, this stitch is great for finishing the raw edges of cotton woven fabric to keep it from fraying with normal wear.
  • Iron, iron, iron! It's generally a good idea to wash and iron your fabric before sewing. This prevents shrinkage and ensures more accurate measurements. Ironing helps your stitches to be more even and straight. Just make sure you have the iron on the correct setting for your fabric.
  • If you're going to use binding tape on your edges, use as many pins as possible and make sure you catch EVERY layer of fabric. If you don't, you'll end up with little gaps between the binding and the main fabric. It is a royal pain in the derriere to have to rip those tiny seams and start over. 
My last tip - make sure your model is emotionally stable before attempting a photo shoot. L had an emotional breakdown when I tried to get photos of her in the dress. Overall I think it turned out OK. I'm proud of it as a first attempt, and I definitely learned more than I anticipated. 
This pattern is called the "Sophia" or "Pillowcase dress pattern" and it's available from Pixie Dust Patterns on Etsy
I've also started making burp cloths out of pre-cut flannel kits from a local store called Hen Feathers Quilt Shop (check them out HERE). I have to say, I love working with flannel so far. It's sturdier than normal cotton, but easier to work with than knits, and it's so much more forgiving than anything else I've worked with. Anyway, I'm going to keep a stash of these burp cloths (or at least the kits) on hand for baby gifts. They're so easy and great for practice! 


I've now got enough fabric stashed to start a small store, and I've got so many ideas, plans, and pipe dreams! Who knows, maybe eventually I'll be good enough to take requests. 

In other news, someone should inform my wonderful gift-giving hubby that I've updated my Amazon Wish List to include a serger, cover stitch machine, vinyl printer, and various other crafts-y supplies. He'll just be happy it's finally got more options than just books...I'm so motivated, I must sew all the pretty things! I'm off to sew some sweet little pants and shorts for L. Wish me luck! Oh, and if you haven't already - check out the new Facebook group "Hapless Housewifery." Let me know if you'd like to join for daily encouragement, tips, and updates. 

Hapless but hopeful,
Cassie

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

A Letter to My Daughter on Her First Birthday

Dear L,

I'm writing this because you're a year old now and I want you to know all the things I have treasured up and pondered in my heart. The Bible says that while all of creation rejoiced at Jesus' birth, his mother, Mary, quietly sat by, watched, and "treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart," (Luke 2:19). While I can't fathom what it must have been like to be Jesus' mother, I can tell you that I know a little bit about what was going through Mary's mind.

First of all - absolute, overwhelming, indescribable love. I've talked about this at length with your Daddy, because he is the only person I love more, and he is the only other person on this planet that loves you as much as I do. But it's a different kind of love. I love your Daddy for a million reasons that I have learned over the years that I've known him, and I'm still discovering more every day. I'm sure you'll love him for a lot of the same reasons. But the love I have for you...well, it's been absolute and unconditional since the day the doctor called and said, "Congratulations - you're pregnant!" Before I saw your beautiful face, before you took your first breath, before I snuggled you close and kissed your precious cheeks...I loved you completely. I still love you, and even more so every day.



The fact that I love you so much introduces a new level of vulnerability that is both frightening and exhilarating. I have to fight the urge to panic over every sniffle and bump, and I know that as you grow my urge to protect you will grow too. We live in an imperfect, fallen, cruel world. But the more rational side of me, with a little help from your Daddy, knows that sometimes you have to stumble or fail in order to learn boundaries. I watched you take your first steps knowing that it was a tremendously wonderful development, but one that would start a slow decline in your dependence on me. You're already so independent, and for the most part I celebrate your spunky little spirit! But in the back of my mind, I fear it too because I know that try as I might, I can't always be there to protect you.

That leads me to God. They say that every parent has dreams for their child; dreams of a richer life, an exciting talent, higher education, a successful career, a fairytale wedding, a big family, and a long life. All of those things are great, and I certainly hope you're able to have plenty of wonderful experiences. But my dreams for you are so much bigger yet so much simpler than that. The first one is this:
Listen, daughter, and pay careful attention:
Forget your people and your father's house.
Let the King be enthralled by your beauty;
honor Him, for He is your Lord.
(Psalm 45:10-11; emphasis added)

I want you to fall madly in love with Jesus and live to honor Him. The world and the devil will tell you so many different things, and sometimes it will be confusing, scary, or discouraging. But I hope that you will be able to live your life confident in your beauty and worth as a woman of God. For as much as I love you, He loves you infinitely more and He can protect you. He is enthralled by your beauty. I hope that you will know this deep down in your heart. Let it define you and the choices you make, don't let the world deceive or discourage you. On that note, the other part of my dream is this:

She is clothed with strength and dignity, 
and she laughs without fear of the future. (Proverbs 31:25)

My prayer for you, sweet L, is that you grow into a strong, honorable woman of God whose faith allows her to laugh "without fear of the future." I know you won't be perfect, and I know you'll have struggles and sorrows. But more than anything else in this world, I pray that during those times (and in between them too), you will cling to God's grace and love. He has such amazing plans for you, sweetheart, so much more incredible than I could even dream. That's why I'm leaving the real dreaming to Him. My only dream, truly the desperate prayer of my heart, is that you come to know the redeeming, fulfilling, perfect love of Christ. 

For this reason I kneel before the Father...I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord's holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge - that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:14, 16-19)

Never, ever doubt that God, your Daddy, and I love you. Happy (belated) birthday sweetheart.

Love you forever and always,
Mommy