We have decided to try to stop letting our feelings and our difficulties and our emotions and our circumstances dictate our life, and we are trying to make space for the things we believe in.
It is hard.
We are stepping up, and we are trying to make our lives work around our faith instead of the other way around. Shane is planning to go on a missions trip in another month, and we are taking on a new role in our church. Sometimes it feels like it's really no big deal, but at other times it is scary as hell. I don't think that I am qualified for it. I am terrified of us doing it badly, but I am excited.
I don't want to just exist, you know? I don't want to just survive parenting and marriage and life. I want to thrive and I want to grow and I want to be what I was created to be.
I have no idea if this is going to be good. I have no idea if this is right. But I am determined to do my best and make my time here on earth matter. I know the truth. I need to do something with my knowledge.
A couple of weeks ago, I was in the backyard with the kids, hanging out washing. Georgie climbed up the chair that was leaning near the trampoline, and got on the trampoline. In the time it took me to peg out three shirts, Charlie had moved from one end of the backyard to the other, gotten up onto the chair, knocked over the chair, and was swinging on the edge of the trampoline, hanging on for dear life, calling out to me. By the time I had sprinted to the trampoline to get him up, he was laughing, because it's funny to give Mummy a heart attack, apparently.
Yesterday, he fell out of the window.
Georgie's bed is next to her window, and he likes to climb up on her bed and bang on the glass. Yesterday afternoon, the window wasn't shut, so he must've been banging on the screen. By the time Georgie and I (who were in the kitchen) had heard his roars and his cries and figured out where he was, he was outside, half underneath the house, on top of the screen. I swear as I comforted him, (freaking out about concussion) I could hear in his cry that he wasn't just upset that he was hurt... he was angry.
Less than an hour later, he was banging on a window again.
He is strong and brave and fearless and adventurous and and grubby and cheeky and happy and rough and aggressive and cocky and sure and dirty and solid and constant and passionate and willful.
And he has only just turned one!
I love him. Oh how I love him! But my goodness this boy, he is going to test me.
I live in rural Australia. I am not a real 'country' girl. I have only ridden a horse once when I was a little girl, and that was strictly in the sense of going round and round a fenced area at the show while my Mum smiled and watched. I have never worn an akubra in my life, or worn a pair of riding boots. My dad has worked as a farm manager, so I guess I have had more exposure than the average person. I've had pet lambs before, we called them Barbie and Ken and it took me a long time to eat sheep after having them. But, despite where I live, I am much more city chic, than cowgirl.
However,
The town where I live has a local festival every year, and as part of that there are goat races held. To be honest I am not a huge fan of the goat races. I don't think it's necessary or fun, I am not a fan of animal racing, and to be honest, it's just not something that appeals to me. But then this happened.
Small towns need support from businesses. Our town is the base for a lot of natural gas works. So at times, the local community and economy can suffer because of the fly-in-fly-out culture. The problem is, so much of the population does not actually call our town 'home' so at times the workers do not support the town in the the same way that the local people, who are invested in it's future, do.
First of all, let's briefly address what the Animal Liberation front is doing. They are petitioning big businesses to stop supporting the local event because of the goat racing, thereby making the event lose it's funding. But I call foul. Here is an excerpt from one of their petitions, (you can read the full thing here)
Over the last few years, Animal Liberation investigators have witnessed
one of the cruelest animal abusing ‘sports’ in Australia: wild goat
racing. Frightened goats are captured, auctioned, harassed and
distressed, dragged across a raceway and harnessed to a cart. Children
as young as 4 years old are encouraged to be ‘jockeys’ and sometimes
heavy adults ride the goats creating a large weight disparity for the
animal. The goats and riders are released, and chaos occurs. Children
are thrown off carts while frightened goats collapse onto the ground.
Goats crash head first into fences, some goats bleed, some goats
knocking themselves unconscious, while children lay on the ground in a
foetal position attempting to tend to their injuries.
Bull. Here is a of clip of the alleged 'abuse'
I have no problem with the animal liberationists saying that they don't agree with the goat racing as it is unfair or demeaning to the animals. But many of the claims they are making are lies. Plain and simple. Furthermore, I have often watched the goat races, having lived as a local for over 20 years, and I have never seen any evidence of abuse to the animals. They are clean, well fed and do not seem to be hit, or hurt in any way. If it is abuse to force the goats to race, then so be it, and fight it while referring to that. Don't lie and make things seem worse than they are.
If you do not agree with the goat racing, petition for it to be stopped. Don't punish the whole and work to have us lose our funding for a whole event, which helps support local economy, because of one thing.
What irritates me further though, are the comments written on their petition.
THESE PEOPLE SHOULD BE PUT OUT OF OUR MISERY!
people are evil
When are people going to evolve. This practice is cruel, ignorant and backwards and gives Roma a shocking image. If that's Easter in the Country then we had all better stay in the City.
No wonder there is the city/country divide with that sort of attitude.
Long may it remain say I.
Seriously?
I think people who have so much of a problem with things, better be darn sure they have got their facts straight before they attack other people. I also think that people who have 'issues' with animal cruelty, should get out of their comfortable bubbles, where the closest they come to a real animal is when they are walking through a supermarket picking their steak for dinner, and maybe see what real life is like.
By all means disagree with animal cruelty if you deem it to be so. But make sure your facts are right. And stick to your convictions. It's a bit hard to take someone ranting about cruelty to animals while they are busy filling their mouth with sausage. Maybe if people understood what life is like in the country and strived for a little understanding and open-mindedness instead of being harsh and judgmental, the world would be a much better place.
I'm not saying all country people are kind and lovely to animals, bastards are bastards, whether they live in the city or the country. But many people treat animals with respect. It is possible to treat an animal with respect and still butcher and eat it. If there is a real problem, by all means fight it and deal with it. But make sure the problem exists.
One last thing, and I'll get off my soapbox. Maybe it would be a good idea to take a good hard look at the truth. Because it irritates me beyond belief when the people who are the first to cry foul at the (alleged) mistreatment of animals, can somehow be blind to their own treatment of humans.
But anyway. Lets keep the city country divide. Honestly when I see what often goes on among those who are prestigious and highly esteemed, a lot of the time I think I am happy to remain a stupid country yokel.
Yesterday I frequented one of your stores with my two small children. We were trundling along, choosing groceries and I was trying to stop my independent two and a half year old from 'helping' too much, when disaster struck. She dropped a jar of pasta sauce, and it broke and spilled all of its contents in my half-full trolley and all over the groceries I had picked.
Now I was not having a great day before this happened. I was very tired and stressed, and I was trying to rush through the groceries quickly so we could make it to a Doctor's appointment. I very nearly sat down in the middle of the aisle and had an embarrassingly large tantrum.
But instead, I picked up my baby and my toddler, and we went and informed a supervisor that there was a very large mess in aisle 8, and then we hightailed it out of there, so I could sit in my car and wail.
I am sorry my child made a mess and I left someone else to deal with it. Please forgive me and just blame it on a very tired mother and an extremely bad case of my-children-are-stomping-on-every-last-nerve-itis..... and PMS.
This morning started with an unexpected knock at the door. Turns out that in my wisdom, I had booked the pest man to come and spray our house. Which would have been great, if only I'd remembered that I'd booked the pest man to come spray our house.
Having someone arrive on your doorstep, ready to go through your house when you are in your pajamas and are in the middle of making muffins for playgroup, the dishes are not washed, the floor is covered in toys, and the house smells like *somebody has just soiled themselves, is akin to having about 5 shots of coffee.
I ever so politely and calmly asked him to do the yard first, and then moved faster than I would have thought possible. Roughly half an hour later, with two shaken children and my house looking like something sad and terrible had been poorly concealed, we collapsed in a heap at playgroup.
And the moral of this story is I **may need to get a bit more organised.
So, how was your morning?
*not me, of course
**and by may I mean most definitely
If you have more bad days than good. If things are too hard. If you cannot cope with the demands of your family. If you find yourself so frustrated and angry that you literally have to lock yourself away from your children because you are frightened you will hurt them. If you just want to cease to exist. If you can barely get through the day.
It is not okay. It is not acceptable. And it is not supposed to be this way.
If you were in pain, if you hurt yourself physically and had to live life with your
pain consistently at an 8, or a 9, or a 10, it would not be okay. There would be surgery, and pain medication, and a plan to heal. Your
emotional and spiritual pain should not be any different. Sure sometimes we do struggle and have bad days, pain is a part of life. Life is pain, highness, anyone who says otherwise is selling something. But it should not be your life.
I kind of can't believe I am writing this post. Because I have read so many things that all say the same thing. But a couple of my experiences this week lead me to believe that it needs to be written. Still we struggle. Obviously we just don't say it enough. If this helps one person, it is worth it.
Don't give up. Don't quit. Keep going.
There is still a stigma. "Oh I didn't think you would be that type of person" (What person, the type with horns and blue skin?) "She just needs to focus on the positives" (She's trying) "He just needs to organize himself better." (No, he is not coping, and he needs help.)
It's easy to fill out the questionnaires you get at the Dr's office, and lie just well enough, so that it doesn't look too obvious, but so that you never really tell the truth. But you know who loses in the end in that scenario? You.
Don't give up. Don't quit. Keep going.
I'm not saying you need to spill out your pain and anguish to every person that you meet. Fake it till you make it can be extremely helpful sometimes. Sometimes you don't want to let every single person who wants in, into your own personal business. And that's okay. But you need to talk to somebody. You need to let someone see you without the mask. You cannot do this alone. You were never supposed to.
People are never going to get it right all of the time. They will never be able to fix everything. But you've got to give them the chance to try. People can't help you if they don't know that you need help. God puts people into our lives for a reason. He is trying to help. But you need to let them. Let Him in.
See your doctor. See your pastor. Talk to somebody about how you are feeling. Maybe you need antidepressants, maybe you don't. Maybe it would help to talk to someone that isn't going to be hurt by the words you need to speak. Maybe they can help you develop strategies so that you can better cope with the problems you have in your life. And yes, maybe the first person you talk to will be less than helpful. But find someone else. Try again.
Don't give up. Don't quit. Keep going.
You are not supposed to feel this way. Don't buy into the lie that this is what you deserve. Don't believe that this is all there is. He has so much more for you, than you have for yourself.
We were created to feel deeply. To feel sad sometimes is normal. But it is not normal to dwell in a place of sadness forever. The story doesn't have to go this way. It is your story. You are not responsible for what happens to you, but you are responsible for the way you deal with it.
