The life of a compulsive person...

I thought it would be a great idea...at the time. 


I am a compulsive person. 


I think there needs to be a support group for people like me.  A place where I could come up with those brilliant thoughts ... mull them over for a minute or two - THEN decide if they truly are genius or just... not.


Well, again, I have had one of those lightbulb moments and rather than just stewing it over in my brain - I go and put it out there.  I am speaking of my plan to celebrate 2011 every day.  Ah, I know, you are saying - what's wrong with that?  We should celebrate something every day.  Okay - then YOU try it.  


I made a personal...and public (through this wonderful fishbowl called a Blog) commitment to a year long party in the hood, but the problem is - I have found out that that is not really what happens.  I have found out that I kind of like to vent via my facebook status - alot.  So you can imagine my frustration as I sit - fingers poised - ready to strike the keys with the venom of a poisonous viper, only to remember that I have to somehow coin the deepest feelings in my heart in a phrase that begins with...


Sheila Hanson Adkins celebrates...


dang!  


It's limiting.  So you might have noticed that my status changes are fewer and farther between than usual.  The thought of recanting has crossed my mind more times than you can imagine, but being the stubborn person that I am - I won't.  And I feel like somehow, God wants to teach me something through this little year long challenge.


There is another problem that I have realized through this.  I was not the first person to do this exercise in positivity.  My friend Sandra did this last year for her 4th decade celebration.  She went through some pretty hellish moments through that year.  I thought of that when I started, but foolishly felt that it wouldn't happen to me.  Well, since that time I have been plagued with fear that something bad is going to happen.  To my kids, my family, my health, my husband... my dog.  I hate this fear.


We have been going to Red Deer to Crossroad Church on a more regular basis the past year.  Our kids have found this church and as part of our connection with our kids, we have been going to church there with them.  It is my dream church.  The music is unlike any I have EVER heard - not too contemporary-touchie-feelie-flag-waving-repeat-one-phrase-for-three-minutes kind of stuff, and not the old school worship either.  It's nice.  But what is really great is Pastor Dan.  He seems to speak straight to my heart.  I feel like we are talking over a chai latte - not with the other 2000 people around us.  


Today he started a series on Job.  If you have an issue with fear of having bad things happen to you - Job is a challenging person to study.  I think I started crying while he read the first chapter.  I had this overwhelming feeling (again) that I was about to face the life of Job in my own life...most currently - I felt that my number one son - who was on his way home from a ski trip - was going to be in a horrific car crash and I was going to lose him...all pointing back to this whole "year of celebration" stupid vow I had made.  As the tears ran down my face, I heard catastrophe on catastrophe that struck Job and thought of my own "sheep, camels, oxen, donkeys and children" that I was so afraid to have to face losing.  I kept thinking - I just know I couldn't handle that and isn't there a verse somewhere that says that God won't give you any more than you can handle?  It gave me a glimmer of hope.  Until... Pastor Dan said that God never said that He wouldn't give you any more than you can handle....


dang!


He would never give you more than HE can handle.  There go the tears again.  Well, God and I had this little battle inside my spirit.  As the service drew to a close and the battle waged, I prayed, "please don't sing Blessed Be Your Name for a closing song.  Yup, you guessed it - that was the song.  My constricted throat prevented me from singing the first verse. 


but then something happened... I gave up.  I gave up my number one son, my sweet daughter, my loving husband, my amazing family, my healthy albeit out of shape body, my career, my money, my sheep, camels, oxen, donkeys and even my Lucy.  


you give and take away
you give and take away
my heart will CHOSE to say
Lord, blessed be Your name.


As I write this, I am struck by the fear that I am compulsively putting it out there again for all the world to see and witness my possible failure in this little celebratory year - but I think that I am a little more ready for whatever is in store.  


Not hoping for Job's life - but with a little less fear...

22 years ago

As I sit here in my nice soft easy chair, my memory transports me back to 22 years ago.  It was the night of the Federal election and Prime Minister Brian Mulroney was voted in for a second term of office.  Strange that I know that because at the time I really couldn't give a rip.  I was in a sweet little hospital in the village of Elnora giving birth to my "first" baby.  I put that in quotes because technically I was the means to another couple having a baby 7 years before that... but that is a whole other blog topic still to come - stay tuned....  anyways - I digress... Dan and I were pretty excited about this baby.  I had gone through 2 miscarriages leading up to that, so this delivery was a bit of a sigh after a long time of holding our breath.  Shortly before midnight and about 12 good long hours of labour, we were toasting (with orange juice and gingerale - a Dr. Witham tradition) the arrival of Alyssa Julia - weighing in at 8 lbs 1 oz - screaming her head off.


Unfortunately this screaming continued for a while, as she decided that life on the outside was not really what she expected.  I can't remember ever being diagnosed with post partum depression - I don't think it had been invented yet, but I do remember that I was pretty miserable.  I felt like she hated me.  I would spend my days trying to make her happy, only to be repaid with incessant wails.  Then, my mom, sister, and even Dan, would come and pick her up and she would stop.  I could picture this kind of relationship lasting through out our lives.  This little girl that I wanted so badly would never like me.  Thankfully, this did change and those first few months of colic turned into a distant memory.


Today she turns 22.  She is all grown up.  She has a husband and a mortgage and a life that is independent of me and that is good.  I think we did an okay job as parents.  Not saying that I didn't make a lot of mistakes - like sending her to school with a big ol' batch of chicken pox cause she wanted to stay home because she said she had pimples.  I yelled too much, didn't always listen, often was too busy, said I love you too little...but the funny thing is that she likes me.  All those fears that I had in those first few days when I was doing everything right as a mother - they are gone.  And despite doing so many things wrong as a mother later in her life...she likes me.


I see the relationship that Lys and I have today and I really wish I would have had that with my mom.  Don't get me wrong, I love my mom dearly, but I don't think I would consider her my friend or someone that I confided things too.  I'm not sure why.  I think it was because I chose not to, so I can't hold her responsible.  That makes me sad.  People say that it's not good to be friends with your kids.  Don't listen to them.


Happy birthday my sweet Alyssa.  I love you!
Mommy