no caffeine after the sun goes down

It’s hard to admit when you’ve been a bad parent, but I’ve been a bad parent lately.

I don’t like this whole “growing up” thing. (I mean for myself, not the kids. Shallow and sarcastic are so much easier than deep and mature, despite what ANYBODY1 says . . . )

I liked when the kiddos were little and I had the final say. I liked when the biggest decision we had was whether or not it was too late in the day for caffeine. (Sidebar: the rule was “no caffeine after the sun goes down”, which makes good sense at 8:30 p.m. in the summertime, but is open for debate at 4:45 p.m. in December.)
So, anyway, I’ve been ticked off at my son because he made a decision I didn’t like. I’m not saying it was a wrong decision, it was just one that I advised against but he chose to go his own route despite my mothering. (Imagine . . . 16 and wanting to make your own decisions!) And I’ve been pretty relentless at giving him grief. Playfully . . . but not really. Last night he had all could take and we had what could almost be considered an argument. Only nobody yelled or cried. We talked for a long time. He apologized for being disrespectful. I apologized for giving him such a hard time. I love that my kids will talk to me even when I’m difficult.

If they didn’t, my life would be pretty darn quiet. :o)

life is hard, then you die

There is a reason God wants me to confess. No, there are multiple reasons God wants me to confess.

1) Without confession, there is no admission of guilt. Without an admission of guilt, there can be no real change. Without real change, there is no hope of becoming who God calls me to be.

2) Without confession, I put up a façade. Others believe my life to be “nice” or “happy” or “insert adjective here”, thus removing any chance of being a blessing to those who may struggle with the same difficulties as mine, making me fairly useless for God's purposes.

3) Confession keeps me humble. And, I guess a healthy dose of humility wouldn't hurt me from time to time.

4) Confession holds me accountable to the people who listen. And hopefully, those who listen will HOLD me accountable. (Though sometimes finding the right person to listen can be difficult.)

5) Confession teaches me discretion. Some things can be shared with the world, but some are for your ears only. By trusting other people with my dirty laundry, I learn the importance of keeping a confidence.

6) Confession reminds me that I am lost without my Savior.


The downfall in confessing is that you make yourself vulnerable.

The downfall in listening to someone else confess is that you make yourself responsible.

I wrote this several weeks back, but didn't ever post it. I decided to post it today because in the last few weeks, God has sent several people my direction, each of whom are going through a life circumstance similar to something I have gone through. I don’t know if I'm any help or not, but I listen and pray, and do my best to be responsible with the follow-up.

Also, posting my “dirty emotional laundry” a few weeks back brought me encouragement from people and places I never expected.

Then this whole "obsessing about my compulsive sarcasm" thing has me analyzing myself and thinking about the whole realm of what it means to be an encouragement to others.


When Kevin whines about something I usually tell him jokingly, “Life is hard, then you die.” But it’s not really a joke. Life IS hard. And just when you think there is a light at the end of the tunnel, sometimes you find out the light is from an oncoming train.

But the one thing I do know for sure is: we aren't alone. Wherever we are, whatever we have been through, the world is full of people who have been and are going through the same thing. Even more specifically: wherever we are, whatever we have been through, the CHURCH is full of people who have been and are going through the same thing. THE SAME THING. We aren't alone. We aren't outcasts. We aren't failures. We are just human.

That's all. I hope you have had a wonderful day. :o)