Thursday, October 05, 2006

Time for some blantant honesty...

with a few pics to cheer you up after you read this post.

I am currently in a deep struggle with the Lord. I feel much like a rebellious child struggling to understand what exactly it is that my parent is asking of me.

We prayed and sought direction before making this move to our new home and location. Even our priest, whom we consulted, believed it was the right thing for us to do. Yet, since moving here our lives have been slowly unraveling leaving us questioning if we made the right decision, as well as causing me to question my relationship with God.

I will not burden you with the details, but life has been exceedingly painful and stressful to the point that there are days I can barely get through them. We continue to go to church, to pray and to ask for the graces we need, but I am floating in an abyss of uncertainty that is painful as well as frightening.

I ask you one and all to pray for us. And please pray especially for me.

Some may ask why I would share in this way. Because I believe that I need to share the bad with the good so that others who struggle sometimes and come here for a boost see that I too struggle and it is human to struggle. We, as fragile humans, often compare our insides with others' outsides. So I am sharing a little of my inside that is not so pretty.

Now for some fun pictures to help balance this bit of a downer of a post... Read more!
HOW many hours have we been in this van??

Whew - out of that prision at last.
Time for a little refreshment!

I LOVE my baby sister!

Ring around the Rosies and we all FALL DOWN!

Read more!
I'm sorry - I don't hear you calling me.
Nope! I don't hear a thing....

Uh... No, I don't think that I want to get back in the van so if you don't mind...
I'll just keep walking and Bear is coming with me!
Read more!

Who out smarted who, I ask.

I heard feet struggling heavily on the stairs and suspecting someone was embracing a heavy burden, I opened the second floor door. I was right. There I was met by Emma who had about 6 books encircled tightly in her chubby 4 year old arms.

Her eyes sparkled, belying the fact that she was up TWO hours past her bedtime. Evidence that our whirlwind business trips still throw us off stride despite five years of opportinty to acclimatize to them. With great cheer and energy in her voice she smiled: "Hello Mummy! I has some books foe us to read foe bedtime!"

My energy levels were no where near hers, causing me to dump a huge bucket of ice water on that idea immeadiatly.

"Oh No, Emma! It is way too late to read before bed!"

"Oh Pease, Mummy" she wheedled flashing another brillant smile.

"No, Emma, it's not even open to discussion."

"Awwww, Mummy. Pease. Dust three then. Can we wead dust three."

"No, Emma. It's just too late. We will read them tomorrow for school, okay?"

"Two Mummy, dust two?"

She peered expectantly at me as I picked up some clothes off her floor, and tossed them into the laundry basket.

I steeled myself. "No - It's too late Emma!"

"One den, Mummy, dust one book."

"Okay. BUT I get to pick!" I said, as I snatched the shortest one that, happily, was sitting on the top of her pile.

"Yay!" She hollered in delight as she bounced onto her bed.
"Mummy is going to wead us a tory Befany!" She yelled as she settled into my side.

Now the question I ask you is this.
"Was this a case of a wiley mother who talked her way out of reading six books, or that of a child who managed to wear her mother down into reading at least one book. " Read more!