Monday, May 16, 2016


Yes, this post is about me. I've noticed something about myself.

I'm somber. I don't joke much and I'm not silly very often. Occasionally I joke with people when I'm trying to be friendly, but not often. (Now, I do love to give wry one liners in family situations. That is a passion.)

I've been reading Christian fiction books for many, many years, because they allow me to turn my brain off and have non-thinking relaxation. I've needed that.

But occasionally a book here or there didn't sit right with me, and I've finally hit on why. Some of these women are frivolous. All they do is run around the country, try to get others married, and giggle and laugh. They have no substance in their lives. They have no hard times and if they learn something, it's because God taught it to them while the handsome man they just fell for isn't quite on board with marrying them. More often than not, though, they teach him something, because, as everyone knows, men just need a little help.


Frivolous. My life isn't like that. My life is hard. Marriage is hard, parenting is hard, and it's extra hard when you have special needs kids. I'm juggling marriage, the house, a child who might decide to kill himself any minute and a daughter who is HEAVY, doesn't sleep, doesn't eat, and is immunodeficient.

Even when I get to go out and have 'fun', I'm more thinking about relaxing and turning my brain off, not frivolity. Giggling and laughing and too much happiness make me feel old and numb.

And I'm very aware I sound like a scrooge saying that.

I also know I sound like I hate my life, but I don't. I love my life and I love my family, but that doesn't make it easy.

Tim tells me I'm more frivolous than I used to be back when he met me, but I feel like I'm way less fun loving. Life sometimes just catches up to you.

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