What I want her to know

I've written before about how having a little girl terrifies me a bit. 

If I were to be honest, and that is the plan for these words, there is one reason I am scared. 

Its for her heart as a teenager and young adult.

I remember how sensitive my heart was. Some would say too sensitive. 

I remember how damaged it (and I) felt as I got older.

That scares me for her because that is what I desperately do not want! 

If you've read my testimony you may know a little more about the words I'm writing. 

I was a depressed teenager and even though some may say that is normal, I disagree. 

Feeling so hopeless you ask God to end it all or cutting yourself is NOT normal. 

I also because a depressed young adult who ended up in an awful relationship in college. 

There's a bit more about that in my testimony too.

That is what terrifies me the most. That is what could make me weep with fear. 

I don't want Maeva to follow in my footsteps. Do many parents want that of their kids?

No, I think they want them to be better, to experience better. That's what I hope.

I want Maeva to know that it is okay to hurt over a broken heart. 

That its okay to cry and express what she is feeling.

I want her to know that it is okay to ask for help and come to both of us. 

I want Maeva to know that no matter what has been done (because mistakes will be made) she can come to us and we will love her no matter what.... we will help her no matter what.

I want her, desperately to know, that there is a certain way she is suppose to be treated, 

a certain way she should be treated. 

I want her to know that no boy will completely fill her heart, that her heart, really, 

is for God and her future husband. 

I want her to know that she is meant to be respected - 

not called names, talked down to, hit, or pressured. She is to be treated well. 

I want her to know those things and so much more about these things. 

I know it comes down to her dad and I... 

Protecting her heart, setting limits, and knowing what's going on.

I know its about having open and honest communication with her about these things.

I know its about teaching her about God and what He wants in her life. 

I also know its about trusting God with her and her future.

He wants what is best for her. He loves her more than we do. 

Lord, help us to do this well. To protect her and love her. To show her what You want in her life.

Help us to do the same with Braden. They both need so much from us. Prepare us.

An untold story: my tattoo

I don't know if you've noticed the cross tattooed on my wrist, but I want to share the story behind it because it has meaning... deep, personal meaning. 

I got this tattoo the summer before my junior year of college. I had always wanted a tattoo, but wanted something that had meaning. Why the cross? Why my wrist? Well, I must go back a bit in my life to tell you. I had struggled with depression for a long time. It started in 6th grade for many reasons. I struggled with my feelings towards my dad because of my parents divorce and because he wasn't a huge part of my life. I had lost a friend years before and my best friend had just moved that summer. I also had my first heartbreak...whatever that may look like for a little girl. All these things were really hard for me to deal with at such a young age. I often found myself lying in the bottom of the bunk bed my sister and I shared... just crying. 

My depression only got worse as I got older.  I got into relationships I shouldn't have, that caused great harm. I struggled with relationships in my family. I look back on it now and there are times that I wonder what was really wrong with me. I didn't understand my depression - why was I so depressed? It was really awful.

 I started cutting myself in 6th grade and it only got worse as I got older. I didn't know how to deal with my emotions, so I did the only thing I felt I could do and that was take a razor blade to my wrist. This caused a lot of pain to a lot of people. I continued to do this to myself in college... even though I had people to talk to. 

One day I just woke up and was sick of it all. I didn't want to cut myself anymore. It was getting me nowhere. I had to make the choice to stop. Was it easy? No, because sometimes I really wanted to do it, sometimes I would go into the bathroom and hold it to my wrist and sometimes I'd fail. But I decided I was done with it... that I was really going to beat this problem.

That is where this cross comes into play. I got it put on my left wrist because thats the one I cut. No, I don't have huge gashes or huge scars, which I am thankful for. I am thankful that I would only cut through the top layer...that I didn't go any deeper. I knew a cross was the right choice because whenever I felt the need to cut I could look at it and remember that I do have someone there for me.

God is there. He always has been and always will be. 

He understood my depression and what caused it.

He understood what I didn't.

He made me realize hurting myself wasn't the way. 

He is the way though... the way to healing.

I'm so thankful for that. I'm so thankful that God helped me through the hard times.

God is so good!