Keeping my boys from video games lasted a long, long time. Until a day last year when their father took them to buy an XBOX.
In an effort to keep some sort of peace, I allowed them to transport their XBOX console to my house when they are with me. This has been one of my biggest mistakes.
But this post is not about divorcing Fortnite. (As soon as I figure that out, my readers will certainly be the first to know.)
After prayer, and in an effort to take back my boys, and shelter them under the wings of our great God, we as a family have resumed Scripture reading, prayer and time with the Lord in the morning - like we did when we were homeschooling. This sadly petered out of our daily routine when organized school began and I was treading water just to stay afloat after fleeing my home.
Like many of you, I felt ill-equipped because most of my homeschool material, books, devotionals still remain at my former coordinates and I didn't know where to start. Until recently I read that just reading them the living Word of God is good enough. Not just good enough, E N O U G H.
Today's call is regarding the "skins" used by boys in Fornite. (The skins are the characters/outfits the players choose and from what I've learned, some BUY the skins as an upgrade.)
While watching my boys play, I noticed their skins were female?! I immediately remarked about this and my 13yo said, "...everybody does it, because they're better than the male skins."
I chewed on that for a moment.
This is how it starts. An innocent game, used by the enemy to blur the lines and pervert the nature of who God made my boys to be. PERIOD. That's it.
NOT IN MY HOUSE. Either you use a male skin, or you're not playing.
If we don’t teach our children to follow Christ, the world will teach them not to, for “the whole world lies in wickedness” (1 John 5:19)
"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it." (Proverbs 22:6)
"Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up." (Deuteronomy 11:19)
"A woman must not wear men’s clothing, and a man must not wear women’s clothing, for whoever does these things is detestable to the LORD your God." (Deuteronomy 22:5)
Parents, I'm asking you to join me. PRAY ABOUT THIS and see if God calls you into action. And may God bless you as you shepherd your flock.
Thursday, August 22, 2019
Monday, December 31, 2018
My Chronic Illness
While many of my musings have been of a humorous nature, I warn my readers that this post is Rated PG. (Personal Groanings).
It's New Year's Weave, er I mean Eve. Everywhere people are examining their lives (while in the queue at the ABC store), planning ways to make the next year "better". Come on, we're all familiar; eating smarter, exercising regularly, making time to be present (oh lawd, I hate that), juicing more, learning to love cauliflower pizza dough (gross) and as my friend and Pastor likes to joke, responsibly recycling. Doing these things will SHA-ZAM. Make your life better.
I've been in my darling apartment for nearly 15 months. I've seen God perform innumerable miracles in my life - you wouldn't BELIEVE. A free Camry! 4 jobs! (2 of which are within .5 miles from my home) friends upon friends upon friends giving, helping, giving, giving, giving.
So why am I so blue?
A friend read my mind recently. "It's scarier now, I'm sure...", she said. Yep. The adrenaline from fleeing in haste has waned, the dust has settled, the rigors of moving things, setting up my home have lessened.
I know the end of my story and I know I have hell-defeating hope. I also know my Redeemer can be trusted and I know the purpose of my life. That right there should be enough, I know it should. But the getting there...in the natural it feels very, very hard.
People have said and have assumed, "...but I'm so glad you're HAPPIER now. You DESERVE to be happy."
THANK YOU SO MUCH. But you're wrong.
I don't deserve to be happy. I don't deserve any such thing. (I'll explain. God's Word tells me I'm a sinner and I deserve death. (Ecclesiastes 7, Romans 3) But wait! ---> That's not the end. ---> There is hope for those who put their trust in the saving knowledge of Christ Jesus.)
And I'm NOT happier now, but I understand how you can think that way.
I'm SAFER now. So that's important. But as long as my #1 earthly enemy still waits for me on the other end of my mobile device, I'm going to have a toothache in my knee, a migraine in my foot and a thorn in my flesh.
The texts, the constant manipulations, the selfish ambitions, the twisting of truths; no court order can protect me from that. This is my new reality. Sure it's different from before, but now I'm faced with the forever fact that until my boys are men, this is my diagnosis; my chronic illness.
I'm in anguish because a punk of a father, who "worked" until midnight every night and only saw his children but on the weekends now takes my boys away from me fifty percent of the time. I went from a stay at home mother, deeply devoted to the raising of my children, who saw them at every waking moment to now...in my apartment on New Year's Eve with America's Test Kitchen on PBS. (And no, my children were not my idol. I just took my job very seriously.)
So what does God say about this?
This is what the Lord says - he who made a way through the sea, a path through the mighty waters. "FORGET THE FORMER THINGS, DO NOT DWELL ON THE PAST. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; DO YOU NOT PERCEIVE IT? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland." Isaiah 43: 16, 18-19 NIV
And He who was seated on the throne said, "Behold I am making all things new..." Revelation 21:5 NIV
I get it, Lord. I want to put my trust in You. I want to have unshakable joy, immutable faith. May Your will be done in my life.
Now, let's party! :(
It's New Year's Weave, er I mean Eve. Everywhere people are examining their lives (while in the queue at the ABC store), planning ways to make the next year "better". Come on, we're all familiar; eating smarter, exercising regularly, making time to be present (oh lawd, I hate that), juicing more, learning to love cauliflower pizza dough (gross) and as my friend and Pastor likes to joke, responsibly recycling. Doing these things will SHA-ZAM. Make your life better.
I've been in my darling apartment for nearly 15 months. I've seen God perform innumerable miracles in my life - you wouldn't BELIEVE. A free Camry! 4 jobs! (2 of which are within .5 miles from my home) friends upon friends upon friends giving, helping, giving, giving, giving.
So why am I so blue?
A friend read my mind recently. "It's scarier now, I'm sure...", she said. Yep. The adrenaline from fleeing in haste has waned, the dust has settled, the rigors of moving things, setting up my home have lessened.
I know the end of my story and I know I have hell-defeating hope. I also know my Redeemer can be trusted and I know the purpose of my life. That right there should be enough, I know it should. But the getting there...in the natural it feels very, very hard.
People have said and have assumed, "...but I'm so glad you're HAPPIER now. You DESERVE to be happy."
THANK YOU SO MUCH. But you're wrong.
I don't deserve to be happy. I don't deserve any such thing. (I'll explain. God's Word tells me I'm a sinner and I deserve death. (Ecclesiastes 7, Romans 3) But wait! ---> That's not the end. ---> There is hope for those who put their trust in the saving knowledge of Christ Jesus.)
And I'm NOT happier now, but I understand how you can think that way.
I'm SAFER now. So that's important. But as long as my #1 earthly enemy still waits for me on the other end of my mobile device, I'm going to have a toothache in my knee, a migraine in my foot and a thorn in my flesh.
The texts, the constant manipulations, the selfish ambitions, the twisting of truths; no court order can protect me from that. This is my new reality. Sure it's different from before, but now I'm faced with the forever fact that until my boys are men, this is my diagnosis; my chronic illness.
I'm in anguish because a punk of a father, who "worked" until midnight every night and only saw his children but on the weekends now takes my boys away from me fifty percent of the time. I went from a stay at home mother, deeply devoted to the raising of my children, who saw them at every waking moment to now...in my apartment on New Year's Eve with America's Test Kitchen on PBS. (And no, my children were not my idol. I just took my job very seriously.)
So what does God say about this?
This is what the Lord says - he who made a way through the sea, a path through the mighty waters. "FORGET THE FORMER THINGS, DO NOT DWELL ON THE PAST. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; DO YOU NOT PERCEIVE IT? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland." Isaiah 43: 16, 18-19 NIV
And He who was seated on the throne said, "Behold I am making all things new..." Revelation 21:5 NIV
I get it, Lord. I want to put my trust in You. I want to have unshakable joy, immutable faith. May Your will be done in my life.
Now, let's party! :(
Monday, August 6, 2018
Pain Swapping
There are some things that people never tell you or I guess you never know until it looks you square in the face.
When I left my situation to escape all the things I'm not allowed to identify here (or now - maybe someday) there was instant relief from the ugly surroundings I had become so accustomed to.
What nobody prepared me for is that my parenting time would be brutally torn in half.
For the last nine years I had been used to being with my boys constantly. I worked as a homemaker, and the last two years, we homeschooled. Their father "worked"/didn't come home until after midnight every week night. I operated like a single parent in lots of ways.
But I loved it.
Homeschool especially gave us the chance to slow down our lives in a Google Calendar based culture.
We took field trips, read aloud, explored outside, had picnics, we offered rides to people with brain injuries, we stayed out late during baseball season, we served others in the name of the Lord. What a wonderfully enriching time the three of us spent together. I thank God.
Now I'm reduced to seeing my children that I carried each for 41 weeks, nursed for their first year, taught them to eat, walk, use the toilet, pray, read... Now I'm reduced to seeing them two days a week and every other weekend.
Every time I'm alone in this house I curse the reason I'm here.
I can't tuck them in.
Read to them every night before bed.
Sing them a hymn.
Hold them while they're fresh from the shower.
Hear them laugh together.
Play Sleeping Queens.
THIS ENRAGES ME - and as I type I ruin three coats of mascara. Again.
THIS IS NOT RIGHT GOD!
It seems like all I did was swap out one pain for another.
I wonder...if it's worth it.

When I left my situation to escape all the things I'm not allowed to identify here (or now - maybe someday) there was instant relief from the ugly surroundings I had become so accustomed to.
What nobody prepared me for is that my parenting time would be brutally torn in half.
For the last nine years I had been used to being with my boys constantly. I worked as a homemaker, and the last two years, we homeschooled. Their father "worked"/didn't come home until after midnight every week night. I operated like a single parent in lots of ways.
But I loved it.
Homeschool especially gave us the chance to slow down our lives in a Google Calendar based culture.
We took field trips, read aloud, explored outside, had picnics, we offered rides to people with brain injuries, we stayed out late during baseball season, we served others in the name of the Lord. What a wonderfully enriching time the three of us spent together. I thank God.
Now I'm reduced to seeing my children that I carried each for 41 weeks, nursed for their first year, taught them to eat, walk, use the toilet, pray, read... Now I'm reduced to seeing them two days a week and every other weekend.
Every time I'm alone in this house I curse the reason I'm here.
I can't tuck them in.
Read to them every night before bed.
Sing them a hymn.
Hold them while they're fresh from the shower.
Hear them laugh together.
Play Sleeping Queens.
THIS ENRAGES ME - and as I type I ruin three coats of mascara. Again.
THIS IS NOT RIGHT GOD!
It seems like all I did was swap out one pain for another.
I wonder...if it's worth it.

Sunday, July 1, 2018
Alone at last
If I'm honest with you, which I always am... [My dad always says, "The truth is the only thing I tell. I have no reason to lie."] ...I would tell you that I've been feeling a little sorry for myself as of late.
I have a friend who shall remain nameless (rhymes with jacuzzi) who dates almost weekly. If not more. Lots of men want to get to know her, take her out, make her feel special. I think I'm jealous of that.
I mean, wouldn't it be nice to have somebody fairly normal (and not incarcerated) call me up and say, "Hey. I think you're neat. Let's eat!" (Ok. Nevermind. I would never date a dork like that. Alright, maybe I would if his name were Buddy the Elf.) Someone to appreciate my wit, my smarts, my convictions, my loving heart.
But let's face it, unless a guy is going to buy the whole, "I'm putting on weight for a movie role", I guess a date isn't happening anytime soon.
Isn't it awful that we're judged by what's on the outside first? What was that movie, Shallow Hal?
I mean, I guess it works in favor of super models (I can name two dozen that are my friends), but for those of us who are unfortunate looking...
But this morning at church, two separate girlfriends surprised me with gifts, and I almost fell apart.
One handed me a very valuable sterling silver (my fav!) butterfly wing pendant. It's gorgeous and from one of my favorite stores, "Dandelion" which always reminds me of love. (A doctor I worked for regularly bought his wife gifts there, and they are and will forever been so in love.)
The colors are exquisite and for some reason, the butterfly instantly took on personal symbolism for me. We squealed, I held her in my arms then I kissed her cheek. It was practically a date, I guess.
The second surprise came in the parking lot as I was leaving church. A lovely lady reached in my car and handed me a velvet ring box. My eyes shot wide open. She said, "Don't get excited", but it was TOO LATE. I opened it up and SCREAMED, SCREAMED AND SCREAMED.
She remembered a remark I made about loving her silicone ring and...now I have my own in gray. I put it on and I said to her (this is true), "I DO!" (She laughed.) So I had a date and then got engaged. All in a matter of 2 hours. What am I complaining about?
Lord, thank you for my dear sisters who have shown me love in this way today. And I'm blessed because of you, Shana and Courtney. xoxo
I have a friend who shall remain nameless (rhymes with jacuzzi) who dates almost weekly. If not more. Lots of men want to get to know her, take her out, make her feel special. I think I'm jealous of that.
I mean, wouldn't it be nice to have somebody fairly normal (and not incarcerated) call me up and say, "Hey. I think you're neat. Let's eat!" (Ok. Nevermind. I would never date a dork like that. Alright, maybe I would if his name were Buddy the Elf.) Someone to appreciate my wit, my smarts, my convictions, my loving heart.
But let's face it, unless a guy is going to buy the whole, "I'm putting on weight for a movie role", I guess a date isn't happening anytime soon.
Isn't it awful that we're judged by what's on the outside first? What was that movie, Shallow Hal?
I mean, I guess it works in favor of super models (I can name two dozen that are my friends), but for those of us who are unfortunate looking...
But this morning at church, two separate girlfriends surprised me with gifts, and I almost fell apart.
One handed me a very valuable sterling silver (my fav!) butterfly wing pendant. It's gorgeous and from one of my favorite stores, "Dandelion" which always reminds me of love. (A doctor I worked for regularly bought his wife gifts there, and they are and will forever been so in love.)
The colors are exquisite and for some reason, the butterfly instantly took on personal symbolism for me. We squealed, I held her in my arms then I kissed her cheek. It was practically a date, I guess.
The second surprise came in the parking lot as I was leaving church. A lovely lady reached in my car and handed me a velvet ring box. My eyes shot wide open. She said, "Don't get excited", but it was TOO LATE. I opened it up and SCREAMED, SCREAMED AND SCREAMED.
She remembered a remark I made about loving her silicone ring and...now I have my own in gray. I put it on and I said to her (this is true), "I DO!" (She laughed.) So I had a date and then got engaged. All in a matter of 2 hours. What am I complaining about?
Lord, thank you for my dear sisters who have shown me love in this way today. And I'm blessed because of you, Shana and Courtney. xoxo
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
What the Whole Foods!?!?!
Hello readers!
Some of you have heard me say I'm not really permitted to blog [details] these days. But there are so many fun things to report. So until my book is published, I'll have to share pleasantries and bon mots in this abbreviated, limited format.
Today's hilarious episode starts with an email.
I've been anxiously trying to secure a PT job at Whole Foods Market. Given my highly decorated days as a PathMark cashier in the 80's (high school, people)...they awarded us pins, "flare", in recognition of speedy service to decorate your apron. I had BLING. I mean people would stand in queue for me to wait on them! (Ha. Did you get that?)
And my most recent, impressive title as Cafeteria Manager (read: lunch lady) at our little school, I boastfully counted myself a shoe in.
Until a few days ago.
"Dear Cashier Applicant,
Thank you for applying to Whole Foods Market........we're going to go with a more qualified applicant..."
Huh? No interview? No phone call? How am I supposed to dazzle you with my charming disposition over the interwebs?
Something's wrong here.
I blame Russia.
What could it have been? Ya know, I was probably going up against a career cashier with faster, more accurate double-bagging skills.
But I knew I wasn't going to worry. God had another plan.
Today I got a text. This is exactly how it went down.
(MY FRIEND IS M:
I'LL BE S:)
M: How long is your plumbing gig? We need a temp summer receptionist (full time)
S: Whaaaat? Woah. It ends this Fri. What happened to your girl?
M: Are you interested?
S: Sure!
M: You're hired!
That was the BEST INTERVIEW I NEVER HAD. I didn't even have to brush my teeth.
I will tell everyone I know (and don't know yet) of God's great love for His children. And how He is keeping His promises to take care of me.
Some of you have heard me say I'm not really permitted to blog [details] these days. But there are so many fun things to report. So until my book is published, I'll have to share pleasantries and bon mots in this abbreviated, limited format.
Today's hilarious episode starts with an email.
I've been anxiously trying to secure a PT job at Whole Foods Market. Given my highly decorated days as a PathMark cashier in the 80's (high school, people)...they awarded us pins, "flare", in recognition of speedy service to decorate your apron. I had BLING. I mean people would stand in queue for me to wait on them! (Ha. Did you get that?)
And my most recent, impressive title as Cafeteria Manager (read: lunch lady) at our little school, I boastfully counted myself a shoe in.
Until a few days ago.
"Dear Cashier Applicant,
Thank you for applying to Whole Foods Market........we're going to go with a more qualified applicant..."
Huh? No interview? No phone call? How am I supposed to dazzle you with my charming disposition over the interwebs?
Something's wrong here.
I blame Russia.
What could it have been? Ya know, I was probably going up against a career cashier with faster, more accurate double-bagging skills.
But I knew I wasn't going to worry. God had another plan.
Today I got a text. This is exactly how it went down.
(MY FRIEND IS M:
I'LL BE S:)
M: How long is your plumbing gig? We need a temp summer receptionist (full time)
S: Whaaaat? Woah. It ends this Fri. What happened to your girl?
M: Are you interested?
S: Sure!
M: You're hired!
That was the BEST INTERVIEW I NEVER HAD. I didn't even have to brush my teeth.
I will tell everyone I know (and don't know yet) of God's great love for His children. And how He is keeping His promises to take care of me.
Tuesday, May 15, 2018
Don't Waste Your Pain (Advice To My Sisters in Christ)
Dear sister in limbo,
Don't be like me. Please don't believe that your life in Christ cannot matter as much (as you were taught) or be as full because your picture looks different. Don't believe your impact cannot be strong. Don't believe that the judgement of others will overshadow your witness.
What I've learned over the last year is that God can take my pain, my heartache, my situation (Fine. I'll say it. My divorce.) and use me anyway.
For a long, long time I believed that I had to belong to a traditional family, have an Olan Mills church directory portrait gracing my family room wall, check off the married box when completing important paperwork in order to be a true, bonafide and effective child of God.
I was wrong about so many things. I made poor choices. I listened to the wrong ideas.
Finally, God used an army of strong men and women to help me see. And through them, God ushered me out of a desperate existence into a beautiful, meaningful, fulfilling life in Him.
I can finally say with great gladness that I realize I can still be used of God, be valued and revered as one who has survived much, be a voice, use my experience, point others to Jesus, love others that hurt, return the compliment to those in need, help to win souls, and mostly importantly not waste my pain as a formerly married woman.
I CAN raise healthy boys.
I WON'T ruin my children for life (because let's face it, I'm not that powerful.)
I CAN teach them to love and follow the Lord.
I CAN have real joy.
I CAN enjoy abiding peace.
I AM IMPORTANT to the Body of Christ.
Thank you, God, for lovingly teaching me by your grace and the power of the Holy Spirit, how awesome You are and that despite my innumerable flaws, I am worthy.

Don't be like me. Please don't believe that your life in Christ cannot matter as much (as you were taught) or be as full because your picture looks different. Don't believe your impact cannot be strong. Don't believe that the judgement of others will overshadow your witness.
What I've learned over the last year is that God can take my pain, my heartache, my situation (Fine. I'll say it. My divorce.) and use me anyway.
For a long, long time I believed that I had to belong to a traditional family, have an Olan Mills church directory portrait gracing my family room wall, check off the married box when completing important paperwork in order to be a true, bonafide and effective child of God.
I was wrong about so many things. I made poor choices. I listened to the wrong ideas.
Finally, God used an army of strong men and women to help me see. And through them, God ushered me out of a desperate existence into a beautiful, meaningful, fulfilling life in Him.
I can finally say with great gladness that I realize I can still be used of God, be valued and revered as one who has survived much, be a voice, use my experience, point others to Jesus, love others that hurt, return the compliment to those in need, help to win souls, and mostly importantly not waste my pain as a formerly married woman.
I CAN raise healthy boys.
I WON'T ruin my children for life (because let's face it, I'm not that powerful.)
I CAN teach them to love and follow the Lord.
I CAN have real joy.
I CAN enjoy abiding peace.
I AM IMPORTANT to the Body of Christ.
Thank you, God, for lovingly teaching me by your grace and the power of the Holy Spirit, how awesome You are and that despite my innumerable flaws, I am worthy.

Tuesday, July 18, 2017
Confession and news
In 2000, my childhood music idol, Amy Grant, married Vince Gill. That was the same year I was married!! I remember pouring over her wedding photos while I was planning ours trying to get ideas. I think I even had some of her magazine clippings in my 3-ring bridal binder. #whatanerd
Her hair was so delicately done up with tiny white flowers and her soft brown curls were pinned back so perfectly, but for a few wisps that gently fell around her face.
How stunning. Should I try that? Nah. Probably not a look compatible with an autumn wedding.
But wait a minute. Should I even be trying to emulate her look? I mean, after all, she's divorced. AND she's remarrying!?
How horrific. What a disgrace to Christian music. What a disgrace to the Church. HOW COULD SHE? And how dare she do this to her children! I should probably put this magazine away.
I see my judgemental heart and I'm so ashamed. I always called myself a "black & white thinker", which in many ways has served me well. But what was it really?
Judgement. I'm so good at evaluating sin in others.
Now after nearly 17 years, and running the risk of sounding like another one of my idols, Lysa TerKeurst, my own marriage is coming to an end. So much pain and anguish have led up to this point, but much of the pain is hurt I now feel for women who have suffered similarly.
Growing up with grandparents who were married over 70 years, parents still married after 58 and two sisters whose marriages are in tact, I feel like a big, fat statistic.
How many years did James Dobson speak to me through my kitchen radio, "...divorce is like cancer to children..." and "...Christian families are under attack. Don't let the enemy win!"?
I am comforted by the Scriptures knowing that our merciful God has made concessions for divorce in specific circumstances, and I'm so grateful for my church and my Pastors and elders at Harvest Philly who are standing with me.
And of course my faith-filled parents, my family and my friends... I have what feels like an army of supporters.
Even still, this hurts so bad.
Please pray for us. Please pray for my children. And of course, please pray for Paul.
Her hair was so delicately done up with tiny white flowers and her soft brown curls were pinned back so perfectly, but for a few wisps that gently fell around her face.
How stunning. Should I try that? Nah. Probably not a look compatible with an autumn wedding.
But wait a minute. Should I even be trying to emulate her look? I mean, after all, she's divorced. AND she's remarrying!?
How horrific. What a disgrace to Christian music. What a disgrace to the Church. HOW COULD SHE? And how dare she do this to her children! I should probably put this magazine away.

I see my judgemental heart and I'm so ashamed. I always called myself a "black & white thinker", which in many ways has served me well. But what was it really?
Judgement. I'm so good at evaluating sin in others.
Now after nearly 17 years, and running the risk of sounding like another one of my idols, Lysa TerKeurst, my own marriage is coming to an end. So much pain and anguish have led up to this point, but much of the pain is hurt I now feel for women who have suffered similarly.
Growing up with grandparents who were married over 70 years, parents still married after 58 and two sisters whose marriages are in tact, I feel like a big, fat statistic.
How many years did James Dobson speak to me through my kitchen radio, "...divorce is like cancer to children..." and "...Christian families are under attack. Don't let the enemy win!"?
I am comforted by the Scriptures knowing that our merciful God has made concessions for divorce in specific circumstances, and I'm so grateful for my church and my Pastors and elders at Harvest Philly who are standing with me.
And of course my faith-filled parents, my family and my friends... I have what feels like an army of supporters.
Even still, this hurts so bad.
Please pray for us. Please pray for my children. And of course, please pray for Paul.
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