Saturday, April 21, 2012

What's Your Balloon?


A few Sundays ago, Nita Cummings spoke about her experiences during her time of recovery from a stroke. It made me wonder about a few things upon reflecting on her story.

1)    How long did it take her to be able to laugh about her drug-induced hallucinations?
The recurring phrase during her message was, “I just wanted to go home.”
3)    
One of her experiences was trying to communicate to a helium-filled balloon.
a.     Her mind was convinced that it was really a deaf mute sent to communicate with her about how to get discharged from the hospital.
b.     If she could figure out a method of communication, it would tell her how she could go home.
c.     Nita would throw anything within reach at the ‘deaf mute’ throughout the night to get its attention.
d.     Of course, the situation was never fruitful. The ‘deaf mute’ had no control over how, or when, Nita would get to go home.

During Nita’s message, my mind started to whirl. That balloon part seemed silly. Nita was even giggling while she was admitting it to the congregation.  I was smiling, but I got a sinking feeling in my heart. I couldn’t figure it out.

And then I did.

Nita clearly wasn’t living in reality. But, if you break that down a little further, you can question if we are living in reality, or just a reality.

Suppose, for a moment, that we are truly Spiritual Souls. Sure, this isn’t hard to believe. We are all striving for that. But, imagine that the reality we are living in now is the false reality similar to what Nita was experiencing.

What balloons are you trying to communicate with?!? What, in this material world, has consumed your attention so much that you are reduced to throwing parts of yourself at, to gain its attention? And, is it something that will reward you with the knowledge of how to go home?

Of course, now, I have switched the literal meaning of go home from our dwelling here on Earth, to going home to Our Heavenly Father.

I think this realization folds gently into the event of Lent. Lent is a time when many Christians prepare for Easter by observing a period of fasting, repentance, moderation and spiritual discipline. The purpose is to set aside time for reflection on Jesus Christ - his suffering and his sacrifice, his life, death, burial and resurrection.

Lent is a time to identify our deaf-mute balloons, and pop them.

Now that we are in our fourth Sunday of Easter, our journey of repentance should not end.
I challenge you to examine your reality. Identify your balloons.

Mark your calendars. Have the first of the month be your balloon day. I challenge you to fast from that balloon for the entire month, or a few weeks, at least. See if your reality morphs, or changes, so that you can see your Spiritual-self, again.

And, if you find yourself missing the opportunity of throwing things at your balloon, then you better practice ducking. Because, when you get to those Heavenly Gates, St. Peter will be throwing those things back at you to defend. 


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If you have any questions or comments you would like to share directly with me, please email thearmymommy@gmail.com

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Forget 'Terrible Twos'

Hannah is three years-old. She is a character. Every time she speaks to you, whether it being an answer to a question or telling you a story, she ends with a swivel of the hips and a final pose. It just cracks you up.

But, she is an obstinate little thing.

Her bedroom is my mom's office, for the time being.  I send her in there, quite often, actually, for her time-outs. I shut the door so I don't hear her whining.

She enjoys the time alone, I have discovered.

Yesterday, I pulled the curtains back and found all of Gramma's office supplies lined along the window sill. That wasn't a problem. Then I found 'other' evidence of what she's been doing.

Smiley faces in blue Sharpie all over her folders
Blue Sharpie 'ocean waves' along the arm rests of the futon
Blue Sharpie 'mermaid tails' all over the two week-old bedspread
Envelopes that have weird bite marks all over them. Took me a while to figure out it was punches from a staple-remover tool.
Red 'Punch' stamps all over the tower fan.
Bits of paper. Apparently, she has gotten fairly agile with the scissors.

I reprimanded her for touching Gramma's stuff. She cried. She got over it.

Later, she was having a melt-down, so I put her in her room with her t.v. on to rest.

I checked on her, and found her sitting at the computer with QuickBooks open to Gramma's hospital accounts. (She volunteers for the auxiliary group and does their accounting.)

Another spanking, and she was put back on her bed. I snuggled her for a bit. Then we got up to play.

After we picked Madelyn up from school, I walked by the office and the door was shut.

I opened it.

I found Hannah cutting a hospital's manilla folder.

Spanking.

Three minutes later, I walked passed the door again. Noticed it was shut.

Hannah was cutting the check book for the hospital.

Spanking.

I came out exasperated. Obviously I could't hide everything in the office from her. And spanking wasn't working.

I went back to get Hannah and to pray with her, but when I opened the door she was typing on the computer again.

This time, I marched her out to the front door. I spread her legs apart and placed her hands high and wide on the door. I told her to stand there until I told her she could move.

She cried more than when she got a spanking. I was hopeful that maybe this will work.

After she was done, we raced outside to make wishes on dandelion fluffs.  It was just her and me. Very fun!

"I wish that Hannah will stop touching Gramma's stuff!" I wished.

"Well, I wish that Mommy would stop opening my door!" Hannah wished with a huge huff that sent fluff flying.

I cracked up.

"I wish that Daddy would come home soon," I wished.

"Huh? Daddy's gone, Mom!"

"I wish I had new shoes," I wished.

"I wish I had new shoes, too,"

"I wish we could go to DisneyWorld!"

This time, Hannah's response was a jubilant "Yeah!"

After supper, I noticed that the office door was closed again. I went in and Hannah was stapling all of Gramma's envelopes shut.  This time was enough for me. I just put her to bed. She was given the strict instructions to not touch the t.v.

Three minutes later, I went in and it was on.

I had had it! I unplugged the thing, gave her a spanking, and left her to fall asleep.

I quickly went and rummaged through my drawer to find a child-proof socket protector. I knew she would be trying to plug that t.v. back in.

I was gone about thirty-two seconds.

And, I caught her behind the t.v. trying to plug it in.

Ugh!

I picked her up, and cradled her on the bed. I told her that she couldn't touch the plugs because they could bite her and really, really hurt her.

I put her to bed and left the room.

Then I prayed. I prayed very hard.

She did fall asleep that time. She had no choice. She had an exhausting day being so defiant.

My Hannah, passed out from her long, hard day at the office

I went to bed smiling last night. After all of that, she makes me laugh. She is always happy, and ready to play. I love her to death. I just need to find a way to channel her energy better.  Or she will be in a pack-n-play in the laundry room.

I was lamenting on thoughts of the innocence of childhood curiosity while I was plugging my iPhone in to charge by the bed.

Then I found the twelve pictures that Hannah had taken of her ear, the floor, and her pillow pet.

When did she have my iPhone?!?
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 If you have any questions or comments you would like to share directly with me, please email thearmymommy@gmail.com