Tag: responsibility

God! Help!

January 5, 2021

God! Help!

This blog is for those moms, big sisters, teachers, coaches, etc. who have ever raised their hands up in the sky and demanded with tears streaming down their eyes, “God! Help!”

If you’ve never done that, please leave the rest of us in our private knowledge of complete crazy… nothing to see or read here… Thank you.

Now that I’m addressing those of you, who like me, know that they only get through life with God’s routine and very often injections of aid: understand that you are really, really not alone!

There are way more of us out here than you know.

But people don’t always see that. Still. That doesn’t mean we don’t completely loose it and at least internally… SCREAM for HELP!

Ever had a friend compliment you by saying, “wow, you were so calm.”

Your mind goes, “um.. what????” And you realize that only God saw your frantic desperate prayers as you grabbed napkins, wiped up your child’s blood trying not to freak out at her big sister’s just-started party while on your way to meet said child in the bathroom with unknown injury as you realize another daughter is already cleaning more blood (MORE BLOOD?? God, let me not scare her, make me calm.) on a gym mat. You realize that the frantic prayers were interpreted as deep breaths – thank you Jesus for oxygen and working lungs! Said child cries and you are thinking, “God, this injury is serious, help me!” but when you clean it and she whines, “I don’t want to go home! I want to play with my friends!”

Then there’s the serious prayer as you fight the urge of laughter-that-borders-on-insanity, “God, give me patience with this child!”

Bloody head wound clean. Check.

Bleeding stopped. Crisis averted. Check.

10,000+ frantic “God, you better help me” prayers in the span of 45 seconds while dealing with said child who doesn’t see that this is an INJURY and wants to GET BACK UP AND START FLIPPING! Double check.

Super glue, band-aid, and the older kids are like, “do we need to go?” Decision time. (This was supposed to be a food party & dinner & home is 45 minutes away plus party will be over & have to pick up actual party-goer in about 2 hours.) Stay.

Instant heart attack what feels like 5 seconds later when said injured child is about to show off her routine on bars – “DO YOU WANT TO LIVE TO ADULTHOOD??” (No, I didn’t scream that.)

But. I WANTED TO!! Instead it was “GOD HELP ME!” in my frantic brain while I think I may have jumped the knee wall to grab said child and firmly direct her back to my table in a solid seat (DID YOU REALLY JUST LEAN THAT FOLDING CHAIR ON TWO LEGS!!!???) beside me to watch her. Calm. Breathe. “GOD! HELP ME!” (Of course, that was a mental scream again.)

End the frantic night. (Thank you, Jesus!)

I’m laying in bed, praying that her head heals well and there’s no infection. Reading Proverbs for whatever chapter the day was (you know, when you can’t think of anything but Proverbs has a chapter for every day in the month?), I came across timeless wisdom that basically said (my brain translated the words to the following, it is NOT a direct quote:), “give everything to God and know that you aren’t perfect without Him.”

Truth.

Give over my worries. Give over my fears. In. Real. Time.

If I just write it on paper (or type it in a blog), that’s just words. What shows that I do trust God is in real time. When my toddlers decides to tilt her head back and scream bloody murder with a huge smirk because I’m on the phone. (PATIENCE, PLEASE!) When my boy is annoying his sisters for the bazillionth time in one minute. (Please, God, don’t let them kill him.) When an attack comes and it feels like the life-breath from my lungs is being sucked out by a giant vacuum. (Calm. Breathe. God. Help. Me.)

This is trusting in real time.

This is choosing to know that I cannot do anything without Jesus.

This is knowing that with Jesus I ca do all things. I can breathe. I can parent. I can mother. I can coach. I can love. Without Him, I can’t do any of those things.

So, yes, I know I’m imperfect. (I’m FAR from perfect!)

But…

I trust in the perfect one. I ask Him for help daily (um… thousands of times a day, in every situation I get stuck in!) and He answers with comfort, ideas, calm, and love.

Take a breath. Breathe in Jesus, breathe out, breathe in love, breathe out; now face your challenge! (As I hear a squeal from the kitchen followed by a crash… doesn’t sound like anything broke… “MOM!”) God, they are your children; HELP ME! I need to parent them to lead them to You, show me how.

Type at you later!

~Nancy Tart

P.S.: Those who were there, yes, I was freaking out inside. Yes, she is okay and nothing left to point at proudly and say “look what happened to me!”

Dating Decisions – Part 3

Dating Decisions Part 3: Discovering Real Life and True Love

September 20, 2020

Dating Decisions – Part 3

At this point in my story I am a few months into 16, realizing that my focus cannot be on someone else. Jesus is my answer, my hope, my truth, not some guy I will meet “eventually.” That brought more peace to my crazy teenage mind than any other decision I had made since choosing Jesus as my personal Savior.

I determined to stand on the principles of virtue that I wanted to find in my future mate. If I had high expectations, it stood to reason that he should as well.

I had already told God (when I was 12) that I would keep myself a perfect gift for my husband. I did some silly girlish stuff that I kept hidden – like write letters to my future husband as I was journaling. Several, actually most, of these letters were destroyed by inquisitive dogs and siblings long before I was 19. I understood purity to be in the mind, body, and heart. Of all the people I interviewed, none told me they wished they had “tried it out first” but almost every person who had “tried sex out” before marriage told me that they wished they hadn’t. Most of them cited trust issues after marriage as their reason. A few told me it made them feel less worthy or made their partner less desirable. Several did not marry the person they “tried out” with. My Daddy told me that once a boy makes a conquest, he thinks of the girl as dirty, trash, something to be discarded. He said that was why he never wanted to use anyone. He told me “men don’t use women but boys use girls.” The silver screen brought that to life in “Spencer’s Mountain” where they get the cow bred and Dad says to son something like: you aren’t a bull and your woman won’t be a cow. That image stuck with me. Stories about my Daddy’s friends, relatives in our extended family, and from my curious interview subjects led me to the understanding that if someone doesn’t respect your decisions in regard to your personal limits, they don’t truly respect you at all.

That led me to the decision that should I be dating someone and they choose to ignore or press my limits, I would back up and leave. Don’t respect me = deal breaker.

I also decided that I would give them just as much respect as I expected. That was something I already did because I was raised that way, but I made that mental decision and wrote it down just to solidify it. If I couldn’t respect them, I wouldn’t waste their time. A wife is expected to respect her husband.

I started to think of myself as a wife-in-training. I had read a devotional book where the woman writer referred to her students as “women-in-training” and I loved that idea! I’m big on apprentice type learning. Show me, direct me, and I pick up rather quickly. I think that actually learning from someone with real world experience is the absolute best. (Another reason I LOVE the movie “War Room” – if you haven’t seen it, DO IT.) I picked out the qualities that I needed to work on (like patience and not nagging) and started trying them out on my siblings. Siblings had taught me that I was low on the patience thing. (Truthfully, children have taught me that I’m still, constantly, and will be forever working on the patience thing.) I am a big sister who likes to not allow her little siblings to get in a situation she knows how to prevent, but I had to sit back and let them learn after only one warning. My Daddy boomed a deep-belly laugh when he asked 17-year-old me why I let my little sisters go out in white shirts (in Florida afternoon, Kissimmee = 10 minute torrential rainfall at precisely 3pm) and I replied with “I warned them, but I’m trying to learn how not to nag, so I only said it once.”

My focus was now on myself. I understood that I needed to be a better person for my siblings, parents, and my future family. This was just the beginning.

I was still feeling tremendous pressure from peer groups to “date” like my siblings. My study had led me to the belief that dating was a long series of pre-marital interviews. I had been to job and volunteer worker interviews. I knew that the most direct way to find out if a person was a good match for the job or position was to ask direct questions. At 16, I could no longer blame my daddy and say “my Dad won’t let me date until I’m 16” therefore I began being super direct by asking, “do you love Jesus?” About half of those who asked me out laughed in a scoffing manner and (since I was primarily around church groups) respond with, “I go to church.” My reply to that “puffy religious response” was equally “puffy religious” – “no thanks. I can only court after I’m 18.”

At this point, mid-17, I still had an excellent relationship with my Daddy. I would tell him when someone asked me out. Once he told me my standards were too high, that I was expecting perfection. My reply was, “I’m looking for someone at least as much in love with Jesus as I am; the man is supposed to be the spiritual head of the family.” I was super-focused on getting into UMR or FIT at this point (two engineering colleges I was chasing) and my Daddy was big on education which is why I believe he didn’t press the matter really. I told him I wasn’t planning on dating until I was ready to marry. That became a repeated line whenever I was teased by family or my sister’s friends. One guy I didn’t like approached me about “hooking up for fun” and I asked him if he was ready to raise a child. His entire friend group left me alone.

I had devised an entire pre-programmed set of responses to boys and now men because I had yet to be asked out by anyone I actually would have dated. There had only been two young men whom I watched and admired the character of since I was 16 and neither asked me out. I actually had deep discussions about Biblical issues with both of them and discovered more about “Biblical courtship” from the latter when I was 17.

I delved deeper into the idea of Biblical courtship with a book I stumbled upon just before I turned 18. “I Kissed Dating GoodBye” by Joshua Harris – I didn’t agree with all of the book, but there were many bits that helped me to understand the whole courtship thing.

I may have bent your ears too long in this epistle. Oops!

Ready for the biggest decision of my dating steps? Covering that next time…

Thank you for reading!

~Nancy Tart

Shattered

May 16, 2020

Shattered

Again. Shattered Again. This is what strikes my heart again. Of course, in the big scheme of things I realize, this is tiny. This isn’t losing a family member or going bankrupt. Logically, my brain tells me that this isn’t really a bad thing and there is likely a reason behind it, but still…

I can’t ignore the emotions that were tearing me apart when Louis said he got the email.

We never, NEVER, would have showed our children the new house (they’ve been calling it that) unless we were told it would happen.

We were told, based on incomes and expenses that it would happen. Our debt-to-income ratio (we know all that, studied before going to attempt for the loan. We had the credit scores above the requirement on the website, we’d done all our own figuring, we make three times what we would need for the maximum monthly payment!) We were told everything was good – we even asked over and over, is this really going to happen?

Well… of course, we lost income, BUT IT IS TEMPORARY!! Gym can open back MONDAY – two days from now! Are they only looking at one of my two incomes? Are they not looking at Louis’ income at all? I’m still working at the office! Louis is still working at uber.

WHERE IN THE EARTH did some loan person decide that she would NEVER once talk to me but CANCEL our documents because “they have zero income” when she didn’t even check? That’s a lie! That’s a stinking, irritating, hurtful, dream-shattering lie! We have lost income over the stupid COVID19 government shutdown garbage, who hasn’t? But to say that is permanent? It’s a bump in the road! A mortgage is 30 years!! Do you expect our income to never change in 30 years??????

We’ve not deferred ANYTHING… we’ve chosen to keep the down payment (yes, in the bank, safe and untouched!) and pay minimums on credit cards that we had to use for groceries, yes. Gym was forced to shutdown temporarily – between Monday and June 1st, I go back to work as soon as they open.

NOTHING has been late; not FPL, not our rent, not our van or car payment (we pay off the giant van payment in 4 months!)

Why is this hurting us? I thought this was responsibility? To keep the down payment, to choose to pay bills on time instead of ask for deferment, to pick up odd jobs to keep our income up while this stupid government decides to ruin our jobs and now – yes, shatter our dreams AGAIN!

Christina and Kimberly lost summer encampment, Christina, Becky, and Kimberly lost Passion Camp (this was the only summer they could all go together), the VBS they were looking forward to is canceled, they miss out on their gymnastics show, the girls are despising this whole zoom meeting garbage where they can’t talk and meet in person…

Becky said, “they can’t take our house, can they?”

It seems, one mortgage person can LIE and say we have no income while NEVER ONCE contacting or trying to contact me, Louis, or either of my bosses regarding our actual status of employment – and yes, deny us our house.

So while I understand that if someone takes the last 4 weeks of my paystubs and averages them over the course of a year, they will think we can’t make our payments; right now we are only missing about $200 a month (with the expected higher mortgage rate and this doesn’t count Louis’ income) – and we loose a $650 a month liability (paid off vehicle) in 4 months (so then just my income alone will cover our bills with more than $400 surplus!).

What really hurts is the LIES. I had to get this information from one lady we called because Louis got an email saying we no longer qualify and so have to pay a cancellation fee… ?????? Why can’t we at least get a courtesy call? No one ever asked? Not even a text. That’s seriously taking social distancing too extreme.

I hate that I took my children to see this place. I hate that I’m so gullible. I hate that I shared my dreams with others and now feel embarrassed that we even tried.

I am determined to at least speak to this person before I agree to pay for a lie.

I pray that God sets this up the way He wants it. I pray my emotions level (which, yes, after writing they always do) so I can speak calmly and rationally. I pray to see the good through this curtain of hurt. I so wanted to have those friends as neighbors, I really wanted to have Treaty Park as my backyard, but whatever; I should have known we will never make it to a real house.

Emotions are sometimes things we hide. I do. I try very hard not to let anyone see anything that isn’t positive. I try to be the mood lifter, not one who complains or cries or feels darkness. But I do. I feel darkness right now – like all my life I’ve dreamed of having a house where I could raise my children and grow trees that would shade my grandchildren – I know, silly. I saw a plan online that almost mirrored the house I’ve been building in my sketchbook all my life and even though we had to give up the place that was my first dream, I thought that if this all went through, it was a second shot at my dream. Next year would be too late: Christina wouldn’t be in that house. This faint hope rose to believe we’d have one season before Christina went to college. A place my teenagers wanted to be in.

These are raw emotions. We all have them. We all scream at the irrationality, lies, deception, cheating, or hurtful things that shove us or our loved ones into positions they don’t want to be in, shatter their dreams, or whatever.

We have to do what works to calm ourselves down and realize that God is in control; yes, even when someones lies and it shatters our dreams, it is just an opportunity for God to show us something better…

Anyway, I write to sort through my emotions; what do you do?

Thank you for reading.

Type at you later,

~Nancy Tart

Sixteen Sweet Years

October 3, 2019

Sixteen Sweet Years

The one who first called me mother is sixteen years old.  Thank you, Jesus.  I am so grateful for being blessed with Christina!  I can’t imagine life without her. 

I truly understand that God entrusts us with raising his children.  There is such a wonderful humbling feeling in being able to watch my little baby grow into a young woman of God. 

For nine months I felt this tiny life growing inside of me.  We prayed over her (not knowing who she would be yet) and loved her from the time we imagined she would come.  She was born the eldest grandchild to both sets of grandparents – imagine such a crazy double blessing! 

Fast forward to today: she’s driving and we’re on the way to her job and Kimberly’s classes with Thea and I riding along (so I can take the car back home and Thea was just up with us so got to serenade us – she sings to music now).

I thank God daily for each of my children.  I know we aren’t promised tomorrow.  I treasure every day.  Every time I get to hear Thea sing notes (no words yet, just “aaaahh-ooooh-aaah”) to music, every time Lucas builds a train track that snakes all over the front room, every time Jillian is jumping like a pogo stick because she learned a new skill or mastered a math concept, every time Jaquline makes something new, every time I get to see Kimberly march (in Civil Air Patrol) or practice some new flip (gymnastics), every time I see Becky snuggle with Lucas, Thea, and Jillian on my bed reading “Angel and the Ring” (Lucas’ favorite), every time Christina ranks up or encourages someone else… every time I get to spend life with my children. 

They don’t have to come to me when they need to talk about something or ask personal of difficult questions – I thank God that they do.  They could bury themselves in isolation from “the parents” but I’m super thankful that they choose to be around us when we are home.  In this precious time while they are close, I want to talk, snuggle, read, play games, cook together, watch them build, invent and grow, and see them climb closer to Jesus.  I am so thankful for the time we’ve been given together.

I became a mom on December 24, 2002.  My little life began inside me and I excitedly whispered it to my mother on Christmas Day because I knew she wouldn’t think it odd that I “felt” my angel start inside me. My first pregnancy journey ended with my beautiful young woman who is driving beside me now.  There is something humbling and awe-inspiring when you hold that first tiny human and realize that God has gifted you with one of His children to raise up.  Once through that, I felt the same huge responsibility and humbling gratitude each time I felt the little life start. 

Life is a vapor; you look at your tiny child in your arms and when you open your eyes again, she’s been flying a plane and driving a vehicle, doing college classes and working a job.  Though she is nearing the time she can choose to leave your home you carefully built for her, you continue to enjoy each day, each opportunity to be around her.  You pray thankful for the time you’ve had and for her safety and future. 

Those years speed by.  The love you carry never leaves.  No matter if your youngling is plucked early to fill heaven with joy, your love remains as strong as the day you discovered them growing inside you – a mother’s love never stops.

Type at you next time,

~Nancy Tart

Fatherhood

June 17, 2019

Fatherhood

So, you know this huge thing called “Fatherhood?”

What comes to mind?  A parenting book I read when I was twelve (yes, oldest sibling perks!) said something like “the child’s view of God as a Father is directly impacted by their experience with their Earthly Father.”

Yes. So true.

I went into parenthood knowing this. (Songs like “He Wants to be Like Me” reaffirmed this giant responsibility.)

A Father is often the humor of the family too – in the photo, Louis had climbed to the top of the stump and challenged “Come Get Me!” … notice all the kids following!

Despite the failures that I’ve made as a Mom and that I felt repercussions of from my parents (they were AWESOME parents, but they weren’t perfect) – I understand the crux of all parenting: we are human.  We (Parents) are not Jesus and are not perfect.

Bingo.

That awesome thing called grace collaborates with the huge responsibility of parenting to create a vulnerable, praying, God-dependant parent capable of teaching the amazing love and grace of Jesus through their own transparency.

Let’s face it: most of the American culture makes fun of fathers.  (Ever seen the Goofy Salute to Fatherhood?) Even as early as the 1950s when there was still a bit of a patriarchal society present, cartoons and movies started to depict fathers as lazy, goofy, clueless bunglers who often caused more problems than they solved.

Although I laughed along with my Daddy at a lot of these early shots at the masculine father, I understood the bulk of media still left you understanding that the love and bond of a father to child was the glue of a family.  The unsung hero always was the silent sure strength of the God-following Father.

As time inched forward, the media continued to turn the American Father into a non-essential entity.

The opposite is true!

I consider myself a strong, independent woman when it comes to my life.  I am a Christian woman, but one of my strongest battles with myself is submission – first to my father, then to Jesus, and later to my husband.  I know this though…  I CANNOT be the mother I am without the encouragement and support from my husband.

If I had to do motherhood without my husband being my ultimate cheerleader and sounding board, I would have realized how unfit I am about three months into the first child.  I have the ultimate respect for people whose life circumstances have forced them to navigate parenthood alone.  I try to be an encourager to them and help those single parents in any way I can because I cannot imagine myself having that strength.

I am excited to be around my husband!  I was on a softball team (church, yes, I’m an athletic maniac but wasn’t on an actual team until I was in my late 20s and it was just for one season with my church family).  Louis was working sometimes 100+ hours a week for our family at the time.  The company I had just closed.  He’d never made it to any of our games (I took all the kids with me; they loved it and hung out with their friends & some of the church ladies who came to encourage us bounced my baby around).  One day he showed up and I was so excited!  (I was told I squealed like a little girl; don’t remember exactly.)  I love walking with him.  I am excited when we do something as a family – or when he’s going somewhere and says, “hey want to go with me?”  Because I know he likes his alone time.  I get way too much alone time at my office – I relish gym coaching because of the other encouraging women I work for and with and the chattering children I love.  I will chatter way too much sometimes.

Our church sermon was on how Fathers aren’t perfect (only Jesus is) and how their honesty and relationship is their connection with their children.  It’s the way to disciple.  We aren’t perfect, our children aren’t perfect – bingo!  Common ground.

I know how important real, honest, God-fearing Fathers are to the fabric of our family.  I know how hard it is to buck the media’s garbage portrayal of our roles and follow God’s plan instead.  I am so thankful that I have a husband who is pursuing God’s heart.  His passion for Jesus makes him a better husband, a better father, and a better friend.  He helps encourage me to pursue God’s heart.  (Told you I’m competitive.)  He isn’t perfect, but he is constantly improving.  A challenge arises and he rises above it.  He’s always leading in love and with a determined drive that is totally contagious.  His passion for Jesus, life, and family (okay, and sports) is encouraging.

And he doesn’t think he’s “so much” – he compliments and lifts me up consistently.  He makes me feel like I’m doing well despite whatever challenge I feel I’m failing.

At church, we pulled in on Father’s Day (neither of our fathers went to church as adults) and he comments, “wow, church is crowded on Father’s Day.”  Yes, at our church, the culture of encouraging each person to follow God individually, corporately, and in their family is persistent.  (I was afraid we lost that when our previous church folded.)  I am so encouraged that Louis has found a church with a culture of lifting up men as fathers; the vital leaders in their homes, encouraging and holding each other accountable.

Thank you, Jesus, for fathers who choose to take the hard road and follow you; they are raising up the next generation of world-changers.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next later…

~Nancy Tart

Little Cuties

Some of my odd deep thoughts on animals, their importance in children’s lives, and the responsibility and love they teach.

February 16, 2019

Little Cuties

Becky is in love (again)!  Every time there’s a new baby animal around our little farm, Becky falls in love with it.

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This time, it’s our little Guinea Piglets.  This one, named “Grizzly,” is a female who we get to keep (she gets to stay on our little farm)!

So Becky has been making cute little pictures, drawings, and plans for this cute little piglet.  She is a mottled brown color all over with a sweet disposition. (I’m waiting for a video haha!)

All of our piglets and baby animals end up with sweet, loving, friendly dispositions because they are raised by loving caretakers!  The girls make this a solid priority!  No one can mistreat any of the animals in their care, not even by accident.  Lucas wants to play with the babies as soon as they are born, but because he doesn’t know his own strength, he has to wait until they are old enough to not get squished!  (Or has Christina, Mom, or Dad with him.)

Their little piglets are never nippers.  They love to cuddle instead of bite.  What usually causes piglets to be biters is that they have been scared as babies.  If they think fingers are poking tools, they will bite them.  If they know fingers as gentle places to snuggle and get petted, they snuggle instead.  The girls make sure to teach their piglets that fingers are gentle!

Just like in our lives, our experiences shape who we are!  Often, if we feel scared or hurt, we draw ourselves into isolation and distrust others.  If we feel love and affection, we feel safe enough to be ourselves and trust others.

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Where a snuggly, loving animal is, there is a loving caretaker.

In life, we are expected to shower those we are responsible for with affection and keep them safe.  The same as when we are caretaking animals.

I think raising animals is a vital part of growing up; it teaches children responsibility.  It also teaches them a basic understanding of how their influence on others reflects back.  Goodness returns goodness.  Gentleness breeds gentleness.  Love reflects love.  God gave us the animals to tend and love – just as some of us will eventually lead and influence people (parents, teachers, leaders, co-workers, etc.).  Early life lessons from these cute, furry little creatures who are so dependent on their caretakers help to mold a caring tender heart from whom compassion grows.

(Okay, maybe that’s a little too deep of a thought from watching children tend animals, but it’s what I see.)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

 

 

 

Newly Licensed

Teenager now has a learner’s permit… Mom is going nuts!

January 8, 2019

Newly Licensed

I’m a bit freaked out.

(Okay, I’m frantic!)

My oldest child is now legally allowed to drive my car…

(AHHHHHHHH!)

Seriously, I’m sure she’s watched my driving enough to know how to be safe (um… she’s also watched Louis… I’m FREAKING OUT again!)

At one point yesterday at the DMV, I had to sign an electronic document that read something like “you are assuming responsibility for everything this minor does in a motor vehicle.”  I laughed because it reminded me of the pages I signed for her Camp Blanding encampment that read something like, “your minor child is at risk of major bodily damage including death and you verify that you understand this and promise not to sue us.”

At the end of this ordeal (I just signed some documents, presented my address and identity as her so-called legal guardian), I walked out with a fifteen year old girl next to me who now has a tiny plastic card that allows her to sit next to me in a 2-ton vehicle and maneuver it down roadways filled with crazy drivers.

My teenager has a learner’s permit.

(*Giant gasp, frantic breaths, mentally remembering where I put my inhaler*)

Okay, maybe you can drive to Publix… but she’s disappeared because she doesn’t want to make the left turn from Publix back onto Wildwood just yet.

Nothing has changed.  (YIPPEE)

It’s just one small step toward independence for Christina, one giant leap in freaking out for Mom.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

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