It's always darkest just before dawn - Part 2

To read the first part of this story, click here.

We have a variety of oak tree in our back yard that doesn’t lose its leaves until spring. I don’t know what this oak is called. It could be a Pin Oak. An English Oak. A Live Oak. After spending entirely too much time trying to find out what it’s called, I finally decided it doesn’t really matter.

The point is, the tree used to annoy me. All the other trees dropped their leaves in the autumn. And here was this tree, stubbornly holding its leaves over the winter. Then, finally, when the grass was just getting green, it would drop its dead, brown leaves all over our yard. Piles of dead leaves in the springtime. It really messed with my seasonal photos. My yard looked like spring with an identity crisis. Especially since we have never really raked the leaves at our house . . .

So I didn't really like this oak tree. Then, a day or so after I decided to stop yelling at my kids, I listened to a sermon by Dr. Timothy Keller. This is one of the ways God put his loving arms around me and lifted me up as I was emerging from the darkness. Keller’s sermon, “Forgiving & Forgiven,” was exactly what I needed to hear. The title gave me no clue as to the actual content, but something (Someone) made me click on that particular sermon and I daresay I’ll never be the same.

The first half was about anger—specifically parents being angry with their children. And what to do with that anger. How to be angry and not sin. How to be angry with the sin in our children in the right way and how to realize when the anger comes from our expectations not being met. Keller talked about how the change God works in us doesn’t happen overnight. It takes time. It takes cultivating the fruit of the Spirit. The old, bad fruit needs to be forced out and drop off as the good fruit grows.

He compared it to a variety of oak tree they’d had in their yard when they lived in Virginia. The leaves didn’t drop off in the fall. They waited until spring, when the new buds emerged. As the new life came into existence, the old, dead, ugly leaves dropped off.

I looked out the kitchen window that March day and saw our oak tree, covered with old, dead, ugly leaves. And all of a sudden, I saw that tree in a different light. That tree was the hope of my life. That ugly old oak tree was the symbol of a life about to change.

Of a mom who’d been caught in a vicious cycle of anger and rage and sin.

A woman who could change and grow and become more the woman God intended her to be.

I read this article around the same time. It’s a great article, but I quickly realized I needed more. That mom had used the symbol of the "Orange Rhino" as something to remind her of the change she wanted in her heart. It worked for her.

For me, it’s the oak tree. I see the change God is working in me when I think of the annual cycle of this tree. It’s a reminder of the bad fruit that will continually be dropping off as I cultivate the good fruit.

I look at that oak tree now and it’s my symbol of hope.

I'm not saying that I have not raised my voice since March 25th. Just yesterday, Adrian was driving me insane. He cried and whined all day. At five o’clock he insisted that picking up ten tiny toys was, “Too hard!”

I did raise my voice as I marched him over to the toys and insisted it was not too hard for a 3-and-a-half-year-old to pick up a few things. 

I know I shouldn’t have even raised my voice. But I didn’t lose it. I haven’t raged at them. I have taken deep breaths and walked away and prayed very hard. And cried.

I have slowed down and looked into their eyes and reminded myself that this is my only time with them and it will be over just. like. that.

There’s a little part of me that doesn’t even want to post this for fear that tomorrow I will lose my resolve and rage at them again. But I have to trust God to keep doing this work in me. I have to fall on the grace that changes me and the grace that picks up the pieces when I do fail. Because it’s not me. I can’t do it without Him. And if I try to do it myself, then it’s not real.

But this is real. This is the fresh bud of spring pushing the dead leaf off the branch.

There is no room for that old, withered leaf anymore.

It's always darkest just before dawn - Part 1

I’m trying to approach blogging with a more laid-back attitude than I have in the past. Last year I started to get “serious” about blogging, making sure I posted at least once (preferably twice) a week. Since we’re having another baby, we’ve switched to homeschooling, and marketing my book is making demands on my time, I have realized I can’t focus on blogging, too. I’d really hate to sacrifice quality for quantity. I don’t like “fluffy” blog posts. I’d much rather post less often and provide some meat to chew on.

This all means that I have no plan for blogging. That’s just what you were hoping to read, right? I have ideas for some posts I want to write. In an ideal world, I would post twice a week again—and that may come as this pregnancy fog begins to clear out of my brain. But I know at this point I need to be realistic about what I can handle.

About six weeks ago, I began emerging from a dark pit of despair. Well, maybe “despair” is a strong word. As Marilla says in the Anne of Green Gables film, “To despair is to turn your back on God.”

I did feel like I was in the depths of despair, but I hadn’t turned my back on God. I certainly questioned Him, wondering why He was putting me through this living hell—this walking, breathing, moment to moment eleven weeks of feeling like garbage. And the biggest problem was that I didn’t know when it was going to end. It was a little more bearable in February, when I thought I would start feeling better at 12 or 13 weeks as I did during my other pregnancies. But when the 13 week point came and went and I was still vomiting, I began to despair.

I knew I was supposed to feel happy and excited about the new baby. But I didn’t. I just wanted to feel better. I wanted to be able to take care of my kids and my house and promote my book. But all I could do, besides the absolute essentials, was lie on the couch and read novels. Sounds like a walk in the park, right?

Yes, I know I’m complaining. I know lots of women have terrible pregnancies—some are sick for the whole nine months. Some have to be on bed rest. Some would kill to feel as sick as I did if it meant they could have babies. I know. My heart breaks for those women.

But I’m called to share this story.

I need to step out and admit that I was a mess. I mean, a complete and total disaster. As I neared sixteen weeks and still found myself bent over the toilet at times, I couldn’t see any reason for it. I was depressed, miserable, stressed to the max . . . and added to that was the horrible weather that would just NOT turn into spring. I felt like the gray, cold, windy days were reflecting and compounding my mood.

And I yelled at my kids.

I don’t mean I raised my voice a little bit. I mean, out of control rage. I’ve struggled with this in the past, going through times when I was stressed and I would take my anger out on the kids, because they were being kids. I’ve yelled at them and apologized and cried . . . and resolved to do better.

But after two-and-a-half months of hell—of not being in control of how I felt, of my disaster of a house, of my body, of my life . . . I stopped asking why God was putting me through this because all of a sudden I knew why.

I couldn’t do it—any of it—on my own.

I can’t be a good mom on my own. I couldn’t do it before, when I thought I had things under control. It was just easier to pretend I could.

Now, it was impossible to pretend I could and I had to come face to face with my own brokenness.

And I chose to say to myself: This is the end. I am not going to do it any more.

March 25^th would be the last day I would yell at my kids.

Now, when I said this to myself I wasn’t suddenly patient and loving all the time. But making that decision changed something for me.

It was as though God came underneath me and around me and said, “Yes. This is what I’ve been trying to do in you.”

And He made a way.

Stay tuned for the rest of the story . . . next Wednesday at the latest!

Excuses, excuses . . .

Well, hello there, blog-o-sphere! Nice to see you again! I’m sure you’re wondering what I've been doing with my time.

Let’s see, where do I begin . . .

You know about my book. That's the only thing I've been talking about, albeit infrequently, on this little blog of mine. Someday maybe I'll discuss the emotional toll of watching my "first baby" find wings and go out into the world. At times it's been fun! At others, not so much. It's certainly a learning experience--and one that's helping me grow.

But on to the more important things. In February we pulled Camilla out of her wonderful school because I am an insane mama and didn't realize my philosophy on education until my firstborn was already off to Kindergarten and away from me for eight hours every. single. weekday. So, we're homeschooling. For now. I like it. Today. Most days. But we've had our rough moments, too.

Those rough moments have been at least partially due to said insane mama's pregnancy hormones.
Yes, you heard me. I'm twenty weeks. That's halfway.
Do the math and you'll find my due date is September 11.

This is me at 18.5 weeks, so I'm even bigger now!

It's been a crazy year in the Treat family. When I stepped back to take a breather in December, I didn't realize everything I'd be adding to my plate for 2013. I have so much I want to write about now. 

These last few months have been a difficult season. But in the dark of winter, the greatest growth takes place. And when spring comes, the sun comes out . . . finally! More about that in the days to come.

For now, I'll leave you with photos from our hike yesterday--one of the best things homeschooling has allowed me to do with my children. We found a great spot for water play. These photos don't convey how beautiful it was on this creek. You'll have to trust me. And the look on Adrian's face. 

Blog Tour: Day Seven

Today we have the review of One Traveler from Lauren of Lauren's Crammed Bookshelf. Thanks for participating, Lauren! Here's the link. And this completes my first ever blog tour. Thank you so much to all my blogging friends who wrote about me and my book.

Blog Tour: Day Six

We have just two more stops on the blog tour—today and Friday. Today, Olivia Stocum posted an interview highlighting One Traveler. I met Olivia at the Montrose Christian Writers Conference last summer. She has a number of intriguing historical novels in the works and I can’t wait to read them in print! Here’s the link to Olivia’s post. 

Blog Tour: Day Five

Today's post is a little different from the rest of the week. I'm a guest poster on Cindy Noonan's blog. Cindy was another member of the writing group that Nancy and I were both part of years ago. Cindy has just finished her own historical novel about the Underground Railroad. She has a spectacular website and blogs about slavery and the Underground Railroad. I'm honored to be hosted by her today. Here's the link to my guest post!

Blog Tour: Day Four

I can't believe I got four people to participate in my first blog tour! (And there are more, too!) Sandy is in a writers group I joined on Facebook. As an author and educator, she graciously agreed to review One Traveler for her blog because she loves Pennsylvania history! You can find her review here.