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Category Archives: Drawing Healthy Boundaries

Goodbye, Monkey Box, and Goodbye, Hoarding!

Wow. This is a big day. If you are or live with someone with hoarding, collecting, or obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) tendencies, you will appreciate this. I asked my little hoarder if we could please get rid of this “monkey box” (which is referenced in Not Just on Sundays: Seeking God’s Purpose in Each New Day at the very end of the section on ADHD, so it’s special to me too) today because we needed to clear out some things. He didn’t deliberate, perseverate, complain, or bargain. He just. Let. Go. “Okay!” HUGE VICTORY over here! Thank You, God! We are making progress. (We are photo documenting so we can purge in freedom.)

I have Little Man home sick with me for the fourth day in a row. He found something on Cartoon Network, and I was going to finish some expense reports (yawn), but then Little Man rediscovered his love for his NERF gun and wanted to build some structures with Magna-Tiles® and knock them down in his room. I’m good with that. So, as he headed up to pursue that for a while, he said these magic words: “Mom, I want to play in my room, but it’s too cluttered.”

WHAT?

Okay, first step to healing is admitting there is a problem. Well done, Little Man.

So, then I dropped the expense report and went upstairs with him, asking: “How would you like me to help you de-clutter your room?” And he told me exactly what he wanted moved out of the way.

More progress. He had the executive functioning skill to know where things needed tidying.

And then I saw it: The monkey box. The one that Chickie (his big sister) helped him make one cold, winter day when the rest of us were outside shoveling 20 inches of snow. She helped him plan, execute, and clean up this project. At the time, monkeys were the latest obsession, and we decided art would be more therapeutic and cheaper than allowing the pile-up of ten different species of monkey in plush form playing zoo in his toy hammock.

It’s been a journey realizing that we have more than just a collector in our house. I can actually measure his anxiety levels based on how strongly he fights throwing something out or giving it away. Over the years, we have hoarded pirate toys (that part is my fault, as discussed in “The Pirate Who Saves Good People“), superheroes, Rescue Heroes, Pokémon toys, art projects, drawings, stuffed animals (particularly bats), etc. I recently learned from his child therapist that I need to stop letting him collect so obsessively. It’s not that we spend a lot or even on the spot. We make him wait for a special occasion and save up his money. But it’s apparently allowing him to order his world around things he can control, and it’s spinning his thoughts into perseveration—a no-no for OCD folks. So, we are learning to limit our collections, expand our interests, and purge our toy and art closets. I love this because we can all think more clearly when we clear our personal space, rooms, desk, and environment.

Anyway, I took a minute to ask him if we could get rid of the monkey box. I held my breath, completely prepared for the buckle-down, inflexible, anxious response. The past few days his mind had swirled about tornadoes and other such concerns (even though they rarely happen here in New England). He had fallen ill with a fever, and I think that all kicked in the anxiety this week. I’m learning to anticipate the triggers and ride the wave. So, I just about danced out of the room when he told me: “Okay, sure.” There wasn’t much of a pause, no second-guessing, no take-backs, no decision remorse. He was busy with NERF target creation. Beautiful!

I grabbed that lovely box and ran out of the room, with the few recyclables inside of it (yes, he hoards those too…right out of my recycle bin), not looking back. I even tested the waters by having him walk by it in the kitchen before I had a chance to bury it in Big Bad Recycling Tote outside into which no eight year old would care to dive. He walked by it a trip or two.

Still no comment.

So I finally took it out.

I’m not sure why I tempted him. I guess I wanted to know how far we had progressed, and I was willing to face the fallout.

Maybe I’ve progressed too.

Matthew 6:19-23, Jesus speaking, ESV
“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!”

Most days, I strive to give him a choice of what to purge. That is empowering and teaches him how to manage the clutter independently. I’ll admit that on school days when I’m in a spring cleaning frenzy, I will toss some artwork and no-longer-touched projects out without permission. Most of the time, those don’t get asked about. Toys, on the other hand, do (reference “Dolly in a Stinky Sack of Potatoes” in Not Just on Sundays: Seeking God’s Purpose in Each New Day). Today we celebrate freedom, decreased anxiety, and getting healthier. Monkey boxes have their purposes. This one definitely saw him through a tough time, as did Chickie, when he was climbing his way out of a depressive episode.

But like anything else, we can’t “lay treasures up for ourselves” and think they help us control life. They serve a purpose, and most times, we move on—or we should. Holding onto our clutter makes us and everyone else around us anxious. It reflects our inner turmoil and our sometimes desperate grasp for control. It becomes a crutch when we lean on it too much. If we cannot part with something, it keeps our focus from being clear and on what can really be trusted.

For our family, that is our Father in heaven. As Jesus described in the Gospel of Matthew, our stored-up treasure reflects our heart, and what we see with our eye (the “lamp of the body”) can either shine light and clarity or cloud our thinking and ability to see. He is referring here to sin, but I think the analogy also works well for anything we are cluttering our lives with that we mistakenly feel we can’t part with.

Today was a victory. I’m so proud of Little Man. Each step toward not being controlled by or trying to control and hold onto things is a step toward the amazing freedom Christ bought for us when hanging on that cross, dying, and rising again. Little Man is already free. He just needs to learn to see those chains as gone as they really are.

We’ll get there.

By the way, I came downstairs and decided to make pumpkin muffins instead. Expense report can wait. 🙂

This was shared at Grace & Truth.

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Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on November 17, 2014 in Anxiety/OCD/Depression, Drawing Healthy Boundaries, Tweens/Children

Tags: ADHD, anxiety, executive functioning, eye is the lamp of the body, hoarding, magna-tiles, matthew 6:19, monkey box, NERF gun, perseverate, perseveration, pokemon, purge, treasures in heaven, where your treasure is

Keeping the Strength in Our Lattes—and Character

25 Oct

Keeping the Strength in Our Lattes—and Character

A dear friend of mine recently met me for coffee and delighted me with a “publishing congrats” gift: a coffee-bean-shaped ice cube tray to keep some iced espresso on hand so that when I chill out my iced white pumpkin mochas at home, my ice cubes will offer espresso instead of watering down my coffee joy. If you’ve read a blog or two so far, you probably know how much coffee and I get along. We are companions of the sweetest sort. The sounds of my coffee machine grinding beans and whirring foam in the morning really do motivate me to not just go straight back to bed after the school buses roll away.

So, as proud as I am to have these awesome ice cubes keeping the coffee strength and love fully rocking my espresso drinks, I started thinking about how much we each need to keep the strength in our character. What does that look like? How do we do that? Where can we improve (because we all can)? Some of the things that make me question someone else’s character are exactly what I should be keeping in check in mine (your list may be different, but this is mine):

Gossip
Critical spirit/negativity
Lies
Malice
Sneakiness/deceit
Passive-aggressive behavior
Conflict-avoidance (which is different than drawing boundaries in toxic situations)
Favoritism (preferential treatment of certain groups of people over others)
A need to control/dominate
Selfishness or chronic self-absorption
Anger/bitterness that shows a lack of self-control
A competitiveness that is so extreme it hurts people to get to the top
Taking advantage/using people
Fair-weather friendship
Jealousy
Manipulation

So, when I think about this list, I consider how frequently:

I try to steer my kids away from attitudes that come too close to the extreme negative end of the spectrum where you find these traits.
I tend to look for friendships that don’t lean heavily in these directions.
I desire to right or improve places in myself that veer too close to these characteristics.

I think about how we each have seasons of life where, of course, we are more angry, self-absorbed, bitter, tempted to lie or criticize. The tendencies are human. But if we stay stuck in these places and don’t work on leaving them—and don’t ask God to help us find our way out—we end up perpetually circling the drain, unable to un-do who we’ve become a ways down from our initial stroll at the start of Negative Lane.

Maybe last year nobody would have defined us as bitter or critical, but this year we are the poster child, and people are heading the other direction?

Maybe we have a few close friends willing to keep a hand out for us to grab, but everyone else is running for the hills?

When this happens, we need help.

The Bible says the fruit of the Spirit is:

Galatians 5:22-26, Apostle Paul speaking, ESV
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.
If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking one another, envying one another.

That’s lovely, and it truly is an awesome way to live, but if we’re currently chomping regularly on the bitter apple, how do we get from the opposite of “Spirit fruit” to a life that bears that positive fruit, that draws people toward peace and hope instead of offering them darkness? How do we get back into the Light?

Good friendships hold us accountable. Trusted people in our lives can call us out and lovingly remain alongside us as we try to find fresh air again. But Who and what has the power to turn us around, to change us?

Prayer. Asking God’s help (conversation with God, which is prayer). If you put your faith and hope in Christ, confessing your need for Him as your Savior, you have the Holy Spirit within you. “Keeping in step with the Spirit” means to listen to how He guides us.

Romans 12:2-3, Apostle Paul speaking, ESV
Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned.

Paul talks about not conforming to the world. The world—the news being one example—shows us darkness all of the time. It’s easy to take up residence with parts of it and become regular companions. It’s also easy to think of ourselves as “more highly than [we] ought to think.” That is often what is behind a critical spirit.

2 Corinthians 10:5, Apostle Paul speaking, ESV
We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.

We have to regularly ask God to cleanse our hearts, to remind us to practice thankfulness, and to take each of our negative thoughts captive and submit them to bow to the reign of Christ in our lives.

For me, asking God to purify my heart is like asking Him to take the watery ice cubes that weaken who I am and replace them with His strength. I like my lattes strong, for sure, but even more so, I love my character strong in Christ. And the only way to do that is to ask Him to take me out of the muck and mire and give me His heart.

How about you?

Psalm 26:2-7, King David speaking, ESV
Prove me, O LORD, and try me; test my heart and my mind.
For your steadfast love is before my eyes, and I walk in your faithfulness.
I do not sit with men of falsehood, nor do I consort with hypocrites.
I hate the assembly of evildoers, and I will not sit with the wicked.
I wash my hands in innocence and go around your altar, O LORD,
proclaiming thanksgiving aloud, and telling all your wondrous deeds.

More on how to renew our minds and live more days outside of the negativity whirlpool than inside can be found in Not Just on Sundays: Seeking God’s Purpose in Each New Day.

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Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on October 25, 2014 in Drawing Healthy Boundaries, Lotsa Latte, Renewing Our Minds

Tags: 2 corinthians 10:5, character traits, fruit of the Spirit, galatians 5:22-26, keep in step with the Spirit, latte, prayer, psalm 26:2-7, pumpkin white mocha, renew your mind, renewal of your mind, romans 12:2-3, strength of character, strong coffee, take each thought captive, test my mind and heart

Traveling Spouse: How Do You Catch Up in 48 Hours?

18 Oct

Let me begin this blog by recognizing that not everyone has the benefit of having a spouse in the first place. Some people are single-parenting full-time. In no way am I minimizing or comparing myself to those particular challenges. I admire you greatly. I don’t feel that when I have to, I single-parent consistently well, so please know I admire those who do this day in and day out. But this is written for those who know the constant disruption of one half of the relationship always on the road and how do marriages survive that? It’s a thinking-out-loud kind of blog because I have some things to share but also because I’m open to what works for others. I find it helpful to know what others do to make the minutes count when they are together.

——————-

Weekends are interesting. They bring a switch from me being the 24/7 home manager to sharing the burden: for two days. This is just seasonally, but when he travels every week for months on end, this is how we roll. Reentry is hard. We don’t like doing life without him, but we have to, so when Salad Boy (husband) comes back home, it feels like a lot of pressure for all of us to prioritize:

How should we spend the minutes?

Having been a military spouse and having lived in military environments several times, I know that it looks different when they are gone for months at a time on deployment. There is no regular ebb and flow of return, except maybe the occasional quick few hours on leave home, whenever possible.

Every Friday night, we face the decisions about the weekend. Like anyone else prioritizing time off, it’s a juggle: Do we do a family outing? Catch up on lawn work? Work on that loft bed project? Divide in half to get groceries and run kids to activities? Be still?

Be still?

That last one doesn’t seem to get enough credit in its importance. Everything else is loud and demanding when competing for our time. “Be still” is just an invitation. It’s quiet. It’s warm and inviting. But we have to come to it and say “yes.” How often I fail to say “yes” and tune out all other life noise around me for even an hour? Way too often.

Psalm 46:10, author unknown, but he is recording the words of God, ESV
“Be still, and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!”

Psalm 37:7a, King David speaking
Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him.

Psalm 107:29, author unknown, but he is recording the words of God, ESV
He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed.

Oh, God, if you made the storm be still, then please look at my storm and make me be still as well. I’m saying: “Yes!”

Then there’s also the juggle of Salad Boy and I carving out 10 minutes of talk time, competing with three kids wanting to share about their week and show him things they’ve been working on—and us collapsing in a heap after he took an early morning flight. More often than not, we’re both exhausted.

What do we talk about? What matters most? What can wait, for now, for another week, or perhaps never make it onto the discussion topic list?

I honestly find this part really challenging. Do we talk about one kid’s medical/therapy? Another’s struggles in a certain academic subject? The drama of teen/tweens coexisting in the same home? The epic fails of the weeks? The successes? The fact the washing machine decided to leak while he was gone? The people coming to the door to sell us solar energy? The teacher meeting I called? The fact the kids often blame the only parent here when I can’t pull off being two people? The fact the car is making funky noises? The phone company changed our voice mail, and now I can’t access messages? My own test results?

How much can we jam into quick conversations that will stick? Is it better to focus on three topics and not 24? How can you make up for not being even able to phone most of the time away (there are legitimate, work-related reasons for this)? What can you expect, reasonably, of someone floating back through the house just to do laundry, hug the family, and pack a bag again?

I’m not really sure I’ve figured it out yet. And it won’t be forever. But I certainly can’t do any of it on my own strength.

Exodus 15:2, Moses speaking, ESV
The LORD is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation; this is my God, and I will praise him, my father’s God, and I will exalt him.

1 Chronicles 16:11, Ezra narrating, David speaking, ESV
Seek the LORD and his strength; seek his presence continually!

Ephesians 6:10, Apostle Paul speaking, ESV
Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might.

Philippians 4:13, Apostle Paul speaking, ESV
I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

And then what about that loss that’s felt when stress piles up? Anger? Resentment? Where do we take that so we don’t unfairly drop it all over the person who is providing the main income? Is it fair to keep it in a heavy treasure chest and then spill it out all over him for those 48 hours? Is there even time for that, even if it was the best approach, which it’s not?

This post is written not as a whine fest. It’s me thinking out loud and also writing for those who live this every day. It’s not the worst thing ever. It’s also not really a blessing either. It is what it is.

Even if your spouse is home more frequently, but regularly working late, or checked-out because of work weightiness, how do we do life and stay intact?

I haven’t been good at saying: “No robotics tonight. You’re watching your siblings so Dad and I can go on a date.”

I have been good at proclaiming: “This is a kid-free zone this morning as Dad and I catch up.”

I haven’t done well at having clear time carved out for family outings—or even a plan.

I have done well at turning down invitations to do other things so, if and when our family of five catches a few minutes, it’s just with each other. It’s open.

This post isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about sharing the journey: what has worked and what hasn’t. Salad Boy is very invested in the family and very helpful when he’s here. It’s why there is a huge void when he’s not.

We’re both fiercely independent, which offers a deceiving “strong vibe” that isn’t always there—because we’re human.

And it’s normal for the kids to miss him, to resent the one-parent gig (although I know some people, with no choice, pull that off beautifully), and to take it out on the parent who is home. I get it. I really do.

So, I’m thinking of keeping a journal of a few words/phrases that trigger what happened throughout the week. He can choose from it his top 5, and I can choose from it my top 5. I don’t have time to write it out. Just a few thoughts. It’s a way of making sure he doesn’t miss what is happening here and I feel listened to, understood, as if he was part of the week.

I absolutely believe communication is everything, even if other things on the checklist don’t “get done.” There has to be connecting. Eyes have to look into eyes, and ears have to hear, and sometimes, mouths have to repeat back some of the key points of what was shared. For me, personally, I need to know each weekend he is touching into what I’m carrying around or feeling for our family members. I need to see his hands lift some weight off. And he needs a safe haven where we don’t rage at him when he’s finally here.

The journal is just one strategy. What works for you?

*This blog post has been shared at Wedded Wednesdays and Dance with Jesus.

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Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on October 18, 2014 in Drawing Healthy Boundaries, Renewing Our Minds

Tags: 1 chronicles 16:11, ephesians 6:10, exodus 15:2, family time, intact marriage, marriage communication, philippians 4:13, priorities, psalm 107:29, psalm 37:7a, psalm 46:10, traveling spouse, travelling spouse

The Beautiful Road Less Travelled: Reconciliation and Relational Restoration

29 Sep

I consider myself deeply committed to keeping relationships working. So, when they fail (due to my own shortcomings and/or someone else’s issues), I take it very hard. I’m sure many of us do. I believe that there are very few situations in life that warrant a complete walk-away.

Taking space: Yes! That comes up from time to time and is healthy.

But jumping on an exit ramp out of a relationship at the first disappointment or hurt: No.

Everything in me screams against that. Why? Because redemption and reconciliation do not have to be ruled out. Yes, it takes two. And yes, it takes hard work. And yes, we can’t control the response of the other person. But if it’s important enough to us, we can always leave the door open. We may have boundaries. We may have healthier ways we’d like to try to interact when we re-engage. We may have apologies to exchange or offer, but relationships can heal if both parties are

willing

and

committed.

This has been on my mind as I thank God for relationships in my own life that have healed. Sometimes, people take a lot of space from each other. That can be painful and rejecting, but it is also a chance to pray for God to put things back together. That is what I have done in several situations, and He is so incredibly faithful. In some cases, the wait has been years. Yes, years. Sometimes, it was just months. But it was always worth the wait.

Has every broken relationship in my life healed? No. Will they all heal? I don’t know. That depends on the other people, too, and where their hearts are, but I do know the best thing is asking God to do something beautiful with the wreckage, show me my own wrong, and help me to remain in a posture of humility.

Is there any other posture possible, really, when we want reconciliation?

I don’t think so.

It doesn’t mean being a proverbial doormat and taking all wrong upon ourselves if some of it isn’t ours to take. It just means being ready to be sorry, apologize, open our arms back to the one ready to rejoin us. When we stand in angry stances, we aren’t exactly an open door.

That said, I don’t believe toxic relationships should be re-started unless new boundaries can be agreed upon and followed, so I’m not suggesting every situation is healthy enough to re-enter. There are definitely situations in which we need to let go or keep distance when they are regularly unsafe, emotionally or otherwise.

This has been on my mind a lot because I love watching my kids discover this. When they have had falling-outs with friends, I always tried to remind them that today’s difficult misunderstanding or hurt does not have to mean a forever rift. Sometimes, people grow in different directions and come back to a place where they find value in each other again. They grow from tiny, elementary school kiddos whose biggest disagreement is that Cassidy isn’t sharing nicely anymore, to more upper elementary school grades, when the friendships shift and twist, and alliances are made so frequently and painfully, it’s like watching a reality tv show about social survival. Middle school is its own bomb going off of hormones and insecurities, and then comes high school when they can settle in a bit more. I love when my children come to me and say: “So-and-so and I are hanging out again sometimes” (assuming so-and-so is not some horrible influence). And I love to respond: “That’s so awesome! Aren’t you glad you allowed the space, expanded your friendships, but left the door open? I bet you will find new things that you appreciate about each other in these new ages/grades that you are.”

I don’t have a hang-up about my kids losing some friendships and making new ones along the way. That’s part of life. It’s human sorting, more or less. It’s how we find out what we value in ourselves and others. And that leads to growth.

But I do celebrate when they make a choice to not permanently shut off or out a person they once cared deeply for—when they take the space needed but leave an open door for healing and recovery. Not every relationship will go through that door, but doesn’t it teach us something so beautiful about God’s redemptive work and reconciliation to Himself through Jesus on the cross on our behalf when we see Him take our yielded, open hearts and make what’s messy all sparkly and new? There is so much darkness and lack of hope in this world that one of the most precious things to me is seeing answered prayer through restored relationships. It’s God working in our midst, taking what is broken on each side of the relationship and giving it the wholeness only He can give. He asks us to be reconciled, before it escalates into something big and brutal.

Are there places you desire this? Do you struggle, like I do, on waiting it out, being patient, letting God take it? We can find hope in His promises, today and always, if you trust Him and call Him your own. There is a God who hears and wants to bring not only reconciliation of people to Himself but also with each other. It can require the often difficult choice of humility and a yielded heart, but that’s the road I want to always travel on—because it’s the only one that leads to peace of heart and lived-out grace.

Matthew 5:23-24, Jesus speaking
“Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift.”

Colossians 1:19-20, Apostle Paul speaking (reference to Jesus Christ)
For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.

2 Corinthians 5:17-20, Apostle Paul speaking
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation.
We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God.

More on relational healing and restoration can be found in Not Just on Sundays.

*This blog linked up at Grace & Truth, Saturday Soirée Blog Party, Christian Mommy Blogger, and Mom 2 Mom Monday Link-Up.

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Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on September 29, 2014 in Drawing Healthy Boundaries, Grace in Big Gulps, The Healing Cloak of Jesus

Tags: 2 Corinthians 5:17-20, broken relationships, Colossians 1:19-20, grace, Matthew 5:23-24, peace, reconciliation, reconciling to Himself, recovering relationships, redemptive work, restoration

When We’re in Pain: Keeping the Circle Small

27 Sep

The blog right before this one talked about opening ourselves up to more feedback in life. This one is more about the times when we need to keep our circle small.

I don’t know about you, but when I’m hurting, my circle of interaction suddenly shrinks to about five people outside my own immediate family. I think we’re all selective on purpose, during these moments, as a self-protection reflex, an instinct. I’m sure shelves of psychology reference books have been written about this very thing.

Part of the reason behind the shrinking circle is because others are often in their own very rough seasons and can’t really take on something else right now to help.

And that’s okay. We’ve all been there.

Another reason is because it can be difficult to be around people who aren’t tuning into our pain on any level. It can be beneficial to just put those relationships on hold until we regroup and come out of the gray clouds over us. They’re still our friends. They just might not know what to do in this particular situation. That’s okay too.

Sometimes our pain touches in too close to someone else’s pain, and they can’t be part of our inner circle for this reason—at least not in this exact moment. Grace, much grace for them. It’s okay to need some space in these situations. Our experiences can be used to help others, certainly, but if we are still in the throes of deep pain ourselves, it might be wise to not advise others until we’ve come out of it.

Then there are other folks who only really want to be around us for what we offer—not for what we need. That’s okay, too, but they are definitely not entering into the inner circle of “safe”—and really, it’s okay, because that’s not necessarily their goal. They don’t want to. Better we realize that up front. It’s all about expectations, and setting them correctly.

Neither should we let in, during these very sensitive times, those likely to remind us of our own failing (or the failing of one of our children) later.

Yup, not allowed in.

While we may find that our support group of prayer or bringing meals in a moment of sickness or sorrow may be larger than we realized, when we are either struggling with our own particular torment, or a loved one in pain or at risk, we tend to not want to share that with the world. We tend to keep it close, at least until the storm has passed.

Although people are well meaning and offer comfort in their own ways, there are also those tougher moments when someone might walk right up to us, see our tears ever on the edge and rigid tension in our face, and talk on and on about themselves in whatever mundane way or demand our audience over something we can’t really handle at the moment. And while they are not wrong—just maybe a little insensitive—it can make us want to run and hide, find the exit ramp and speed madly down it.

These are the things that overwhelm me personally when I’m in that place. One of my worst triggers is not feeling heard or understood. It also throws me into a panic if I think someone is coming to take from me when I am beyond depleted. I’d so much rather not be approached when I am in that place if the pain is going to blown past as if it is a figment of my imagination. That’s assuming, of course, the person is aware. Obviously, they are not accountable for what they do not know.

Sometimes, “I’m hurting right now. Can I get back to you a bit later?” needs to be enough of a #response. #healthyboundaries

— Bonnie Lyn Smith (@BonnieLynSmith) October 19, 2015

And it needs to be accepted.

We recently closed our shutters during a nine-month struggle getting one of the birds in our nest from mental unwellness to a better place of mental wholeness—or something approaching it. I walked around during those nine months tensing up so incredibly afraid of encountering people who wouldn’t “get it” because they hadn’t experienced anything like it yet (thank God!), wouldn’t offer grace, would probe unkindly, or would still want to take something from me in my weakness. My shoulders are still coming out of that tense posture, even now, months after the crisis. And I did run into those kinds of people. Definitely. And I had to draw my boundaries. But I found more grace along the path to soothe my wearied, battered soul—dear, trusted folks who loved me back to safety.

And really, it’s healthy to keep the circle smaller in those moments. Not only is our private stuff, well, private, but I find God calls a few people to help carry us in these times—not the masses. The masses often bring tangible provision, like meals during moments of sickness or for welcoming a new baby, but few will walk through each burden with us in our heaviest times. And that’s okay.

And it may be different people each time. Sometimes it’s a family member or a different friend than the last situation. I love how God uses the people who are going to be able to give us what we need emotionally and offer good counsel at that moment in that particular struggle.

I don’t think we’re all meant to carry around all burdens at once. It would be too weighty. Only Christ could do that on the cross.

I need to also be okay with the idea that I am not always someone else’s answer or “circle person” as they walk through something difficult. I love it when I can be used in this way, but I certainly cannot meet every deep need out there. None of us can. That’s why listening for His guidance and leading is so important. It can overwhelm otherwise.

#Proverbs18_24 One who has unreliable #friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks #closerthanabrother.

— Bonnie Lyn Smith (@BonnieLynSmith) October 19, 2015

What do you think? Do you find this to be true?

More of our faith walk through personal struggles can be found in Not Just on Sundays: Seeking God’s Purpose in Each New Day.

*This blog has also been shared at any link highlighted here: Mom 2 Mom Monday Link-Up, Make a Difference Mondays, Pick Your Pin Tuesday, Women With Intention Wednesdays, Grace & Truth, A Little R & R, RaRa Link-Up, Me, Coffee & Jesus, Dance With Jesus, Blessing Counters, Coffee & Conversation, Saturday Soiree, Tell His Story, Find Stability, So Much at Home, Faith-Filled Fridays, Reflect His Love and Glory Link-Up, Bonbon ‘n Coffee Linkup, and Christian Mommy Blogger.

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Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on September 27, 2014 in Anxiety/OCD/Depression, Drawing Healthy Boundaries, Grace in Big Gulps

Tags: boundaries, boundary, circle of trust, crisis friends, expectations, grace, inner circle, inner circle of trust, keeping the circle small, mental health, mental wellness, pain, proverbs 18:24, support group

Getting Out of the Dinosaur Line

25 Sep

I’m not sure what’s going on here…preparing for another Ice Age? Looking for Godzilla? There’s “organized dinosaur activity” in my family room this morning, and I’m not totally in on the secret. I’m a little afraid.

The thing is: I’m starting to feel like those dinosaurs, like I’m following blindly toward a finish line without really stopping to think along the way. For all they know, they could be headed to the tropics as they march along together without questioning. I feel like I’ve been going through the motions, too, lately: Get this kid from school to go to an hour and a half orthodontist appointment, only to get that one back to school and grab the other one from a different school for a different appointment. Life can feel that way sometimes. Schedules start to define us. Suddenly we are marching in a dinosaur line.

Zooming out a little, I have to wonder if somewhere along the line, the first dinosaur said: “You should take at least three [fill in the blank here] classes, try this after school club, be in a book club, and while you’re at it, try your hand at the trombone and xylophone.” And the second one in line might have questioned it at first, but he decided maybe letting someone or something else dictate his life for him was easier. So he went along.

And then on down the line.

By dinosaur No. 6 in line, they stopped questioning and followed the herd.

For a while, I think I was one of these dinosaurs. I jumped into too many commitments thinking somehow I could keep it all going. I followed the first few good ideas I heard and then realized, halfway in, that I was walking in a stress pack with a bunch of other overtaxed dinosaurs. We had gone miles together without even realizing how worn out we were.

I started this year off saying I wouldn’t do the dinosaur walk. It was okay if I didn’t follow Brontosaurus the exact same way because I’m a Stegosaurus, after all. But that pesky T. Rex sure had some great ideas, and I figured out pretty quickly I’m not a T. Rex. I’m a Stegosaurus. So I said “no” to the T. Rex. And as proud of myself as I was for saying “no” for 35 seconds, drawing a boundary over here, “no” often leads back to another “yes” somewhere else—and I was back in that line again.

When you look at that beautiful dinosaur trail, it looks so appealing and orderly, doesn’t it? They look like they have purpose. I want purpose. I bet you do too. But, I figured out that purpose didn’t come from following every great idea out there. Sometimes, it involved trying new things out on the trail, but often, it meant getting out of line to regroup.

This year I told my kids: “If you want to do marching band, you can’t be in three youth groups. If you want cross country, you can’t dance every day.”

But I forgot to tell myself that.

Oops.

Everybody else out there always makes that line look so attractive. Oh, flag football! Let’s try that! And, woodworking club, awesome! Crew? Let’s sign up! Diving team? Go for it!

And those things are awesome. I wish I could keep up with it all. But I think we’re all out there marching around like tired dinosaurs because we’re either driving people to these things, or we’re in them ourselves.

For me, it’s really not a sports thing (refer to latte blogs…walking to the mailbox is a sport for me). For me, it looks more like this: “Oh, women’s Bible study? Awesome! Let’s do that every week. And teach Sunday School. And do a book club and a moms’ prayer group! Then maybe make a bunch of muffins. And do a fundraiser (it’s been a while)! And send off care packages.”

I’m a “let’s keep busy and do” junkie. I bet so many people can relate.

The thing is: I love each and every one of those things—as long as I don’t think they define me. As long as I remember to jump out of line now and again.

I wonder if we followed this particular group of plastic beasts around, if we’d find that they each eventually figure it out and drop out of line. Maybe they end up in the tropics after all and wonder how on earth they ever got there without noticing?

I don’t think I’d make it that far. I want to know how not to over-involve myself, even when other people have really great ideas of what we could participate in together.

I want to be more still.

I want to get out of the dinosaur line and learn what it truly means to have God “establish my steps.” I’m pretty sure that’s where peace and calm can be found.

Psalm 131:2, David speaking

But I have calmed and quieted myself,
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.

Proverbs 16:9, Solomon speaking

In their hearts humans plan their course, but the LORD establishes their steps.

*This blog can also be found at Mom 2 Mom Link-Up #24.

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Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on September 25, 2014 in Dance/Karate/Robotics/Band/Basketball/XC Mom, Drawing Healthy Boundaries

Tags: be still, boundaries, establish their steps, overcommitted, overscheduled, proverbs 16:9, psalm 131:2

Putting the Margins Back into Life, One Latte at a Time

23 Sep

See this latte? If you’re a coffee drinker, it looks awesome, right? Very inviting. Foamy. Caramel drizzle. Love in a cup, no?

See the mess behind it?

I’m going to let you in on a little secret: I left it in the picture on purpose. Because lately, that’s just how I roll.

This little story is about more than a steaming vanilla latte on my counter waiting for me.

It’s about mess.

It’s about rest.

It’s about life with no margins versus life with margins.

As a book author, just days away from Not Just on Sundays hitting the public, I am learning a lot about margins. For formatting reasons, I have to have inside and outside margins, so that there is room for the paper to be cut as needed to make a neat, perfect 6 x 9 book. I also need a gutter margin so that there is space in the binding; when someone opens the book, he/she doesn’t want to try to read my words sinking deep into the middle. Needless to say, without margins, books are an epic fail, a mess. They need clear boundaries: distinct “start” and “stop” places for the words. Even the headers and footers need space in-between themselves and the main text. Otherwise, everything lacks clarity.

It turns out life is that way as well. It needs margins. If I plan back-to-back events with my kids, there is no driving time, no accounting for traffic delays, no time set aside to eat. If I overplan our schedules, I can’t pick three kids up from different locations at the same time. Likewise, if they don’t have any time outside of school, cross country, dance, marching band, and karate, they will not be able to do homework, to get rest, to unwind, to restore themselves.

As it turns out, I can’t publish a book and keep my house clean and meet every need in the kids and finish important conversations and remember people’s birthdays and return phone calls within respectful amounts of time and grocery shop. Nope.

For a while, I was putting pressure on myself that I could do all of those things well. Not long after, I quickly swirled into a tunnel of not only can I not do them, but I suddenly couldn’t remember to stop to take my vitamins, shower, read, eat regular meals, etc.

I started living life without margins.

And, like the text of a poorly formatted book, I bled into the margins.

Publishing term for you. Bleed (blēd) (n.) Text or graphics that extends all the way to the edge of the paper it is printed on. Bleeds are used in publishing for graphical effect and for printed tabs. Most printers cannot print all the way to the edge of the paper, so the only way to produce a bleed is to print on paper larger than the final page size and then trim the paper. (v.) To run to the edge of the paper, thereby producing a bleed.

What did living without margins do?

It bled into my relationships (no time to meet).

It bled into parenting and marriage (a lack of patience).

It bled into my sleep patterns (a screen right before bed and a 1:30 AM bedtime).

It bled into my health (one should get regular rest, meals, exercise).

It bled into my prayer life (quickly zapped-off prayers instead of more time listening to Him and dialoging as if we were at coffee together).

But unlike the cover art of a book that is supposed to bleed over the edges for printing purposes, the text of my life was spilling out of the margins. Text needs con-text. And the con-text of my life was living, breathing, eating time up in blog-writing, book pre-launch and launch, and publishing. There was no margin in my context.

So, the latte on my counter? The one with the trash behind it? Today that is my built-in margin. I’m trying to get them back, one edge at a time. The countertop can remain messy for a few days. I’m not superwoman, after all. The laundry is probably not going to make it upstairs, but it’s folded to be pulled out of the basket. The book will be published. It’s just a matter of days now, hopefully.

But I need to get my edges with a little wiggle room again. Otherwise, I’m, well—edgy. And that’s not only not fun to be with, but it’s a hectic way to live…on the edge.

Margins in books are boundaries for the eye to know where to read without too much busy. They are how the mind sorts out headers and footers, but the printer needs the area also to keep the edges clear for paper being cut without taking text with it. I don’t want to have my text removed—either in my book or my life. Without margins, something gets cut out. It has to. We can only do so much.

Margins in life are boundaries too. They are healthy spaces where we are just still. Where we don’t have something scheduled. Where we have down time. Where we say “no” so we don’t lose our context—or the “text” of who we are.

Today the latte mug sits on the counter, happy to be accompanied by trash that will eventually be thrown out. It represents a choice to respect myself and others around me enough to insert margins again.

Is anyone else also needing some?

I want a “rebuke the wind and waves” of life kind of moment. I want to find “completely calm” again in-between the frenzy. Who’s with me?

Mark 4:39, Apostle John-Mark narrating

He [Jesus] got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.

Psalm 131:1-2, David speaking

My heart is not proud, O LORD, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. But I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me.

*Update since this post was written: Not Just on Sundays: Seeking God’s Purpose in Each New Day published October 1, 2014. It is available in paperback and as an ebook.

This post has been shared with Christian Mommy Blogger, Blessing Counters, and Tell His Story.

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Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on September 23, 2014 in Dance/Karate/Robotics/Band/Basketball/XC Mom, Drawing Healthy Boundaries, Lotsa Latte

Tags: boundaries, busyness, culture of busy, edgy, gutter margin, latte, margin, Mark 4:39, psalm 131:1-2, publishing bleeds, stress

When the Fight Is On: Choosing to Not Get in the Ring

19 Sep

This essay was originally called “Roots of Bitterness, Explosions of Shame,” and it would have been somewhat satisfying, I suppose, to tell it from only one perspective—mine. But after writing it initially to process my horror at this scenario, I decided to look at it from the viewpoint of any of us when we don’t understand grace. Because when we don’t understand or practice grace, or even when we don’t have it for ourselves, bitterness rises up like a vine climbing that tall oak in the backyard. And then all of a sudden, it chokes us, or something sets it aflame. I wrote this to look for the lessons in it. Where can I do better? Where do I get caught up in similar unnecessary anger? Where can I “step out of the ring,” so to speak.

A while back, in a very public setting, I had someone approach me very angrily when a boundary was drawn for her. It was someone I had known, marginally, for years. I’m guessing, based on the irrational and very scary level of her rage, she has trained most people in her life to never draw boundaries that she has to observe. Then she met me, and unfortunately, I’m a hyper-boundary-draw-er. And while I didn’t walk in that afternoon with any angry feelings toward her, she must have thought that I did, or clearly she wouldn’t have spent her week wasting her time planning to ambush me. She’s no different from so many of us, except she let it get to a boiling point.

Really, if we’re honest, how many times do we all waste time with stressed-out, one-sided, furious, imaginary conversations in our heads when we think there’s a major issue—but there really isn’t one?

Seeing how ramped-up she was, there was no good reason to engage in conversation at that moment other than to shut it down before it escalated. Nothing good would be accomplished by me letting her vent like that. She needed to calm down and find a better way to approach me. Then I would have listened. I hope I can show honor and respect toward others even when I disagree with them; I hope I always give them a chance. After I managed to get out to an area where there were more people, she continued to get in my face and insist on setting me straight. I offered to leave if that would be helpful in stopping the toxic rant. After a while, in front of several others, she backed down. Phew!

The entire thing shook me to the core. So I had to dig deep and ask myself:

What about me incites such wrath?

What the issue was? Minor and irrelevant.

Isn’t it always the dumb, insignificant things that set off sparks between people, that light the flame?

What freaked me out in this experience? That this woman unleashed four years of hatred, misunderstanding, insecurities, and self-justification onto me in just a few minutes over something so incredibly minor. She had built up so many wrong assumptions about me based on gossip, without fact-checking.

But she is not alone.

Really, if we think about it: How many of us do that daily? If I’m honest, I do it at times. And it struck me not only in terms of searching my own soul as to what about me provoked such emotion, but it also forced me to reflect:

Where am I holding on tightly to dislike of and bitterness toward someone else?

Despite how very hard it was to climb over the wall of self-pride, I made myself pray and asked God to show me the two sides of the coin. I spent many a night waking at 2 AM wondering how someone could hold on to that much hatred, only to spew it, without any warning, like Mount Vesuvius?

While I still think this woman was unfair and inappropriate in how she handled this situation, it caused me to look for where I was being equally unfair to anyone in my life on my “Do Not Like At All” list. We all have one.

Where are we being a “root of bitterness”? Where might God be offering us correction by perhaps allowing things to come against us that we need to make sure we are not guilty of ourselves?

I’m also learning that just because people want to fight/argue, it doesn’t mean we have to get in the ring. Some folks are always going to want to fight for the thrill of it; they have no intention of getting to resolution because they already have another ring reserved for a different day.

I’m all for honest conflict resolution, but one of the best growth points for me this year has been to walk past the ring and say, “No, thanks. Choosing to walk over to the peace bench. Feel free to join me there, but if not, this is where I’ll be if you need me.”

The two verses in Hebrews 12:14-15 pretty much sum it up for me:

“Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many.”

Do you find you are being drawn into a ring in your own life, one that isn’t productive and somehow keeps scheduling a fight?

Or do you find yourself wanting more ring time than necessary, constantly looking for someone to battle?

How can we “make every effort to live in peace,” setting healthy boundaries, not only to model how we would like to be treated but also to take a personal stand in grace to anything trying to steal our joy, thieve our energy, discourage our hearts?

The ring is a choice most of the time. I am going to strive to only enter it when the stakes are huge and justice needs an advocate. Otherwise, I hope to live almost entirely outside that ring.

Hebrews 12:4-15

In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says,

“My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline,
and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,

because the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.”

Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. “Make level paths for your feet,” so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.

Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many [emphasis mine].

*This blog has been shared at any link highlighted here: Mom 2 Mom Monday Link-Up, Make a Difference Mondays, Pick Your Pin Tuesday, Women With Intention Wednesdays, Grace & Truth, A Little R & R, RaRa Link-Up, Me, Coffee & Jesus, Dance With Jesus, Blessing Counters, Coffee & Conversation, Saturday Soiree, Tell His Story, Find Stability, So Much at Home, Faith-Filled Fridays, Reflect His Love and Glory Link-Up, Bonbon & Coffee Linkup, and Christian Mommy Blogger.

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Posted by Bonnie Lyn Smith on September 19, 2014 in Drawing Healthy Boundaries, Renewing Our Minds

Tags: anger, bitterness, boundaries, fight, get in the ring, hebrews 12, roots of bitterness

Pressure-Cooker Culture: Is High School in America Becoming an Initiation into a Lifetime of Stress?

05 Sep

My high schooler recently sat down next to me and told me about friends taking five (sometimes six) honors classes in ninth grade (the school only recommends three at the most at a time), doubling up in advanced math/science/engineering. These students are 14 years old.

There was an unspoken question somewhere in him telling me that.

So, I took a deep breath and told him that while I would never put anyone down for that, because clearly academic achievement is a noble goal, our family makes a different choice because of our placing equal value on everything else that he does outside of academics: marching band, youth group, karate, robotics. I told him that:

We value good grades (“personal bests”)—but balanced with mental/emotional wellness.
We want to instill a good work ethic, along with built-in moments to unwind.
Statistics show way too many overworked, over-pressured high school students keeping themselves artificially awake in unhealthy (or even illegal) ways round the clock, ending up in psych wards having emotional breakdowns, or taking their lives. Yes, I realize there can be several factors playing into those situations, but academic pressure is one of them. In my opinion, one kid suffering in this way is one kid too many.
Ivy League college entrance letters and highly successful future careers are admirable things to reach for, as long as we keep perspective. Training my kids to live in a constant state of lifelong, self-driven pressure and stress, however, is not my end goal.

I know some folks feel that the United States could increase education standards. I realize that the bar could be higher. It always can. I also know how well other countries around the world do in math and science. I attended college in one of those countries for a while, and I get it. I do. And I know in this increasingly high-tech world, kids are being pushed to take college-level classes sooner, push math advancement, interface with technology at earlier ages. Nothing is inherently wrong with that. I’m all for seeing what people are capable of and letting kids grow toward greater responsibilities, setting personal goals to do better.

But I also value well-rounded individuals with a wider understanding of the human experience. In the United States, college admissions counselors still look for after-school club involvement, community service, and extracurricular activities on the field, in the studio, and at the track. And they should. I don’t think we are doing 18 year olds a favor having them think the world is so narrow that as long as they can program in Python, they are all set for their future.

On the flip side, they need to learn how to balance stress, work and school, and the people in their lives, so I’m also not in favor of high school students in such a state of relaxation that they play video games for 6 hours straight while parents do the laundry and cook their meals. Either end of this pendulum swing has its pitfalls and dangers.

Honors-level classes are awesome if students can perform at that level. Go for it! Call me American (because I am), but honors classes at the expense of everything else—social interaction, activities that broaden character, serving the community, etc.—is where it can sometimes be out of focus.

Life outside the 40 to 60 hours of work per week these future adults will put in has so much more to it. If we teach our kids that academic achievement is the ultimate striving, then where is their personal satisfaction and fulfillment during downtime, when they are just kickin’ it with their families for a few days, or when they want to contribute something non-academic to society?

As one of my social media friends shared, when I brought this up in public forum: “It isn’t good to base an entire life on performance.” And that’s true of anything out of balance: performance of any kind, really.

In my humble opinion:

They need to learn how to talk to humans: their boss, their parents, other people’s parents, their coaches, their teachers, their peers.
They need to know how to stop and breathe when stress piles up, to prioritize a hectic schedule, to find a way to rest (which ironically, is designed to ultimately keep them at optimal performing level when they take the gift of rest), to wrestle through issues of faith, morality, and justice. To grow into adults who function emotionally, mentally, physically, socially, spiritually.
They need to see know how awesome it is to help in a soup kitchen, to run a marathon, to get a black belt in karate. Of course it’s not about doing all of those things—or even those particular things—just people-to-people interactions in general.

As I read my niece’s college application essays this summer, I thought: Well done! She is a high academic achiever but also mentored younger students in cheer, held a job, babysat, went on mission trips, anchored her school news reporting, among other responsibilities. She doesn’t appear to have let any one of those things get out of focus.

I’m glad my son and I had this talk because I saw relief on his face that we don’t expect six honors classes at a time. My parenting wasn’t so much in my saying “no, please don’t take that many” but rather in the why we don’t expect that. I saw the panic button stop going off. There was a life lesson right there that I hope he teaches his own children someday:

Balance, Son, balance.

Because if there’s anything I want my kids to know going into adulthood, it’s when to rest.

——————————————-

Exodus 34:21, God speaking through Moses

“Six days you shall labor, but on the seventh day you shall rest; even during the plowing season and harvest you must rest.”

Mark 6:30-32, Apostle John-Mark narrating

The apostles gathered around Jesus and reported to him all they had done and taught. Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” So they went away by themselves in a boat to a solitary place.