Day 6- Undercurrents

Jesus said: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because hHe has anointed mMe to preach the good news to the poor; He has sent mMe to announce release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to send forth as delievered those who are oppressed (who are downtrodden, bruised, crushed, and broken down by calamity), to proclaim the accepted and acceptable year of the Lord (the day when salvation and the free favors of God profusely abound.)" Luke 4: 18-19

"When the home atmosphere is terrible, the devil loves it. Division is his goal...He loves it when people pretend and no one in the family actually faces the prolems." (Meyers, pg 19).

"We need to open ourselves to God's Word and see our failings and shortcomings.  We need to be able to say, "I have been wrong."" (pg. 20).

Prayer:
"Lord Jesus, I'm so glad You came to deliver those who are oppressed. Than you for helping me realize that my oppression comes from Satan.... and for providing the weapons of your Word and prayer that I can use to break free from the devil's powerful clutches.  I pray, Lord Jesus, that I will remain free both now and forever. Amen" (pg 21).

My Thoughts:
Satan must be jumping for joy at the moment about our house and the relationships within it.  Or at least, he is trying to. 

I know I've mentioned a bit on here about Alyssa's diagnosis of ADHD and ODD and broad spectrum mood disorder, but I've never really told people how aweful it is. for me.

I'll be the first to admit

I'm a stubborn bull headed natural red head with a temper that could compare to a volcanic eruption if not controlled properly (which, Thanks to God, has been dormant for many years with only a little earth quake here and there to remind people and myself the lava is still there.)

My daughter is a mini me.

Beautiful, smart, kind, creative, a huge heart and an explosive temper.

I am truly in fear of my sanity when she hits puberty.

Back in November, just after Thanksgiving, she attacked our exchange student and we had to make the toughest decision ever and admit her to Pine Rest, a menal health institution.

They got a lot of different medications for her and she came home in 4 days.

I hated every minute she was there.

She is me.

I am her mother.

I should be able to fix this, to get her through this.

I could not.

Fast forward to now.

I still can't fix her.  And I'm still her mother.  I never want her to go back, but will bring her there again in a heart beat if someone else is in danger.

You see, I live in fear of my little me when her wires are crossed and not functioning the way they were designed to.

My nine year old self can turn the 33 year old self into a crying fool in a matter of minutes.

I'm stubborn.  This is my house, with rules made to keep us all safe, clean, and learning responsibility.  Sometimes, the 9 year old version doesn't agree and the 33 year old version has to remind her younger self.

That is a battle.

If I ever talked to my parents the way that she talks to me when she snaps, I'd be paralyzed or dead.

I'll go to jail if I touch her like that.  I'll hate myself which would be worse than jail if I did that.

I'm stubborn, though.  She can't talk to me like she does in these cycles of hers.

How do you teach someone that when discipline doesn't work?

Talking doesn't work.

Rewards (giving and removing) don't work.

I am her mother.

God made me her mother.  No one else could do it the way that God wants me to do it.

I believe this.  I live by this.  At times, it is chanted over and over in my head and at the top of my lungs so it is not forgotten.

My daughter is me.

Beautiful.

Strong.

Loving.

Creative.

Caring.

Compassionate.

And occasionally, non of them.

Too bad the good stuff doesn't leave bruises like the bad stuff does.