Category Archives: Family

3rd Annual Fort Building Contest!

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Yes, you read right. We’re having a Fort Building Contest. This will be our 3rd one! Actually, I skipped hosting one last year…ya know, it was kinda busy ;)

But it’s back now! And I’m ready to watch all my competitive friends battle this out.

I picked this time of year cuz everyone tells me February’s gonna get cold. So why not build a cozy fort you can hang and snuggle in.

There are just a few guidelines you must follow…

1- Your fort must be made indoors.

2- All the items used must be from your house and be reusable.

3- No purchasing items just for the fort.

4- Involve your family! Tap into your inner-child – involve your children if you’ve got’em, or, your neighbors children. Just make sure you know them and have permission to take them.

5- Submit your entry by pictures or video, via your blog or link to youtube or vimeo, by March 1st. I will provide a one-stop fort submission hub.

Most of all…HAVE FUN! 

And, yes, a winner will be chosen! This year will be the first time the winner actually gets a prize. They’ll get to choose from one of the following…

1- $20.00 Starbucks Gift Card

2- $20.00 iTunes Card

3- $20.00 Amazon Gift Card

Here are our two past winners:

Russ Hutto (unfortunately this video has been deleted but his post is amazing and he also lists all items used in the fort, w/pics)

The Rainey Fort

So, y’all in??

Lemme know!

Our last fort

 

The Writing Struggle

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Today I wrote another chapter for my book. And I must say…it gave me a heart work-out.

I totally get why people conceal injustices.

While revisiting some very painful moments from my childhood I struggled writing them down – for so many reasons. Not so much that it was hard for me, personally. I don’t relive the memories anymore like I used to. In fact, during recall, I actually feel as if I’m hovering over the past moment, watching it unfold as a total outsider. I feel physically detached yet there is still a connect. It’s hard to explain, really. Perhaps one of you can identify and articulate this better.

But what I struggle with the most is wanting to protect the people who were around me and “involved” at that time.

I struggle with the thought that while I do not have to endure all those abuses anymore, there are countless of children who are suffering this very second. Children who are being beaten and molested and threatened. They are frightened and alone. Even in a sea of people…they are alone and terrified. I hate that. More than I can describe.

I struggle with how much to share. I know I have literary freedom. But I also love and respect my family. I want to protect them.

This process is harder than I imagined it would be. Yet, it is one of the most necessary things I have ever done…for me, my family and, hopefully, for those who will someday read it.

I’m praying that as God walks me through this process that He will have me write exactly what is necessary and beneficial for His sake, His children’s sake and His glory.

Please pray with me…

[Following is an excerpt from todays chapter]

The secrets continued on. The sexual abuse, the physical abuse.

“Tam, how come you’re using a pillow on your chair at the dinner table?”

Danny glares at me with his sparkling eyes from across the table.

“Oh, um, I fell off my bike on the way home from school today.”

No. Not really. I had just been beaten with Danny’s belt-buckle while bent over this very chair, naked, for a half-hour straight for forgetting to wash a drinking glass this morning. But if I tell you that, mama, he’ll kill you. That’s what he told me. And I don’t want you to die. So I will lie to you. I will keep this secret. 

Let It Go…And Live

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I remember the days when I hid. The days when I woke up each morning and the first thing that came to mind would be my bag of secrets. I would slowly get out of bed, grab that bag of secrets, throw it over my shoulder and carry it around all day long. Allowing it to dig into my flesh causing pain, day after day.

It was my way of life. My normal.

This weekend Pete spoke a challenging word to many! Right out the gates he gave us this truth…

If we don’t learn to transform the pain, we’ll just transfer it.

 

Ok. Yes! This couldn’t be more true than truth itself. That was me. I transfered for years! I lied, misled, used, pretended, acted out, used drugs, invited an eating disorder, manipulated the ones I loved and betrayed peoples trust. All because I chose not to come clean.

The very second Pete shared those words my heart began grieving for all those who live under the weight of secrets and pain…no matter what the source.

I still have to work on letting things go. There are self-centered uglies splashed all over me. This weekend I was lovingly, but firmly, reminded to come clean. Come clean with God…Come clean with my loved ones.

Replace Concealment with Confession.

I just want to encourage all of you to find people you can trust to share the weight of your heart with. Most likely, they’re right under your nose. It’s been my experience that hidden secrets fosters a facade that acts as a flame that ultimately burns bridges. It’s just not worth it. Let it go….and live like you were meant to.

That is all.

Thoughts? Confessions?

[image]

I was a psycho woman my first married Christmas

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I love giving gifts. I love getting gifts! But, it took me a long time to see this exchange for what it really should be. When my husband, Brent, and I celebrated our first Christmas together we were struggling to make ends meet. We were just starting out and had very little. So, needless to say our first Christmas was extremely tight.

Brent and I decided we would set a very small budget to buy one gift for each other. Brent headed straight for the mall and I headed straight for the Dollar Store! I was practical, bought him things he liked. Gum, armor-all, a wrench, a 10 pack of no. 2 pencils with the name Brett etched in gold on them (Brent is a hard name to find). I paid the damage, went home, wrapped it all up in one box, put a $5.00 bow on top (it’s all about the delivery) and I called it a good venture!

As I placed this remarkable gift under our Charlie Brown tree my eyes immediately bolted to this hideous object lying helplessly alone. My heart went out to it for it had clearly been attacked by a large dose of testosterone. Men do not contain the “wrapping” gene. It didn’t take long to figure out from the outside exactly what it was. It was a Remington Wet/Dry Razor. I’d wanted one forever – but it was way too expensive! And there I sat in a glorious knick-free shaving dreamland until I was interrupted by reality, “I must return this gift!” So I hopped in my car, unwrapped the gift while I drove to…let me see…Yes, the price tag is still on it…Sears. I returned the wet/dry razor, with much remorse, and headed right to our bank to deposit the money back into our account.

Just hours later my husband discovered what I had done. And, it broke his heart. That was his gift to me and I rejected it. Our very first Christmas, first chance to wow each other, and I crushed his hopes and excitement.

As i grew in faith and learned more about God, the ultimate gift-giver, I realized that giving is a part of who we are. I am here, the person I am today, because God gave so much for me. Because Jesus gave so much for me. Christ gave His life as a gift to give me life. God started the gift-giving trend.

Now, a Remington razor can not compare to a death on the cross. But the heart of the giver is the beauty of the gift. it really doesn’t even matter what the gift is. Imagine the indescribable look on Gods face each time one of His children receives His gift of life and eternity with Him. Now, imagine the heart-break He must experience each time one of His children rejects that gift.

So now, for me, keeping the spirit of Christmas alive is to give gifts. It reminds me of the gift Christ gave us. It is emulating His example.

Big gift, small gift, homemade, time, a poem, volunteering…anything that sets your heart on others…that’s the beauty of it. Even deciding not to exchange gifts as a family and, instead, put that money toward something else. Just let your heart genuinely, and joyfully, give.

I used to be “anti-gift” – until I realized what my life would look like if Jesus had been an anti-gifter. So, I give what I can. It’s not about the money, it’s about the heart and intent. When we give, without expectation, to others – we are being most like Christ.

What does “The True Spirit Of Christmas” look like to you? How do you celebrate it? I would love to have you share your story with us over at World Vision’s blog! You can also read some amazing posts on the true spirit of Christmas.

Pains Of Parenting

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Yes. There are pains involved with parenting. There are times when you want to run…run as fast as you can, as far away as possible. And if there happens to be a cliff involved you might consider a little jump.

Not just because a child or two has found your very last nerve. Sometimes you wanna run because you get scared. You become afraid of all the ways you might have messed your children up. Missed the best teaching and growing opportunities. Afraid of letting go – but knowing you have to.

There have been countless times when I have cried myself to sleep at nights, begging the Lord to erase from their memories any ridiculous words that came out my mouth or actions that spewed forth, if they were not going to build character…or mine. Yes, there are times when a parents failures serve as some of the best teaching moments. It’s often where humility and grace are best learned. Boy, do I know this.

My daughter is nearing her 18th birthday. My son just turned 15. I know what this means. It means the time is coming close when they will spread their wings and no longer be in this nest. It has all happened so fast. And so, now, I spend many nights crying myself to sleep because I know this time is inevitable, and I just want to freeze this moment.

They own my heart. That’s where they always are and always will be. Even when the day comes where they will no longer physically be near me.

So when they each gave me letters, that they wrote to me for my birthday last night, all these worries, fears and anticipations came to a sudden stop. I saw their words as a collection of years gone by…good and bad…but moments that have stayed with them and made them into the young adults they are becoming.

I am so proud of my kids. No, they are not perfect. I am not perfect. Brent is not perfect. We do things that would likely shock y’all. But we’re taking each day as it comes and doing the best we can with them. And I hope they do the same with their own kiddos some day.


[Family Photo by Alece]

It’s all worth it. Every single moment.

I Wouldn’t Change A Thing

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[A repost from last year. With all the book writing I'm doing I was reminded of this moment again.]

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monday night when i told kota about my abortions, and that i had been married before and widowed, he put a very special piece of my journeys puzzle together.

when i left my first husband, actually when i escaped with my life, i ended up in southern california where i would just two months later meet the Lord.

kotas response to that was…

“mom…if that wouldn’t have happened kass and i wouldn’t be here. none of this would be happening.”

he is absolutely right.

none of my journey was fun to travel. at least not that part. but it got me to a monumental crossroads that forced me to take stock of my life and make some big girl decisions.

im not one of those people who wish i could live my life over so i could change it. my life, as dysfunctional and traumatic as so much of it was, got me to this exact place i am now.

there were scary parts, lonely roads, hurts, disappointments, terrible choices, abuse and much pain…and all of it served to teach me a lot. it exposed my weaknesses and my strengths. it broke me and built me.

i could look back on it all and ask…why me? or, i can see the now and embrace it for what it is…the result of many life circumstances that came together to create the now. a path completely in view by God. by a God who knew exactly what He was doing. He allowed, not made, hurt in my life because it built my character. character that needed refined so that i could be the wife and mother and friend i needed to be.

and in one short conversation…my son understood that.

i love how God is in every detail. we just need to look closer and trust that He’s there.

 

The Fear Of My Past Catching Up With Me

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A few months ago Angie Smith asked me, and several other women, to be a part of Blooms Book Club, at (in) courage. Book to be discussed…Angie’s 2nd book, What Women Fear.

Each of us ladies were assigned a chapter to discuss with Jess and Angie, via video. I was given Chapter Six: The Fear Of My Past Catching Up With Me.

Let me tell you, Angie could not have picked a better chapter for me to share on. She wrote this chapter for me! And, you.

We all have regrets. But we do not all have to live under the trappings of them.

Please, take a moment to watch the video and receive whatever it is you might need to hear from it.

You can contact Ang, Jess or me if you have any questions or just need to chat.

[VIDEO]

Why I Got Inked

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I never thought that in my father-in-laws lifetime I would ever get a tattoo. Well, it just so happened that I did get inked…while my mother and father in-law were visiting/staying with us last month.

After I told my FIL the “why” behind it…he couldn’t say no.

Here’s the back story.

Our household knew Sara (Gitzengirl) was nearing her end on earth. It had been a very heavy and emotional couple of weeks. One evening Alece and I were up in her room sobbing and sharing stories about our Gitz. My husband, Brent, walked in, consoled us and prayed over us. During his prayer I looked down at my right arm and saw the words, “Choose Joy” on it.

I’d wanted a tattoo for years, but I didn’t know exactly what to get. But this night, I knew that I knew that I knew I was to get Sara’s words put there on my arm as a constant reminder of everything she stood for. That in any, and every, circumstance there is joy to be found – so choose it.

My heart filled with a peace. Knowing that in a small way Sara would always be with me.

Brent finished praying, we all stood up and hugged. And ugly-cried. Through pouring tears I told Brent the vision I had and asked his permission to get Choose Joy tattooed on my arm. He immediately responded with, “Of course!”

Alece was standing there and asked if I’d mind if she joined me.

And it wasn’t long before other people started joining in, too.

I can’t help to think what Sara might have felt about all of this. She’d hate the attention, I know that!

This last Tuesday, as I saw Sara in her casket, she wore a shirt she had made for that occasion…it read “It’s Not About Me.”

This tattoo – is not about me. Ironically…it is about Sara. But even more than that, it is about taking an opportunity to share with those who ask what “Choose Joy“ means. It’s an opportunity to share faith, hope, persistence, strength, perspective and JOY. Attributes that, with God through her, Sara showed us.

So, this tattoo…it’s about others. And that is exactly how Sara would’ve wanted it.

 

What Are You Waiting For?

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I’m just gonna get right to the meat of this post…

I’ve been a part of many funerals and memorial services in my lifetime. And the one statement I have heard over and over is…

I wish I would’ve had the chance to tell them…

May I please point out the obvious here?

As long as we still have breath – we still have the chance.

What are you waiting for…

Tell them.

I’m Coming Back.

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Being back in Oregon for a short visit has been amazing in ways I didn’t expect.

First off…upon flying into the Valley I realized that this isn’t home any longer. Yet, this is where my history and long-time heart connections are. Whereas in Nashville…it already is home to me. And the long-time heart connections will come eventually. But, Oregon simply isn’t home anymore. And that’s ok.

We are exactly where we are suppose to be in Nashville. It is very evident as I see my husband and children flourish and spread their wings there. My heart is “fixin” to burst over that :)

My last year in Oregon was very tough. I had shared with Brent several times that with each passing day there I felt a small piece of me die. I lost my desire for creativity. I struggled to find energy. My ambition and drive dwindled minute by minute.

When we learned we were moving to Nashville in June I just knew I would come to life again. Nashville breeds creatives. Its pulse of creativity is felt everywhere you go.

We arrive in Nashville and I am anxious to build a routine and waken my slumbered brain only to end up in the ER within 2 weeks. Major surgery 2 weeks after that. Recovery. And, lastly, an unplanned not-so-pleasant dental visit.

Then, I’m off to Oregon for a 10 day visit and back in the place where I once felt 6 feet under only to find that this trip has brought me back to life again.

Strange, isn’t it?

And honestly, I can’t even explain why this is. It just is.

It has left me so excited to start living again. I can’t get home soon enough. I feel like Tam is coming back. New and improved.

When I return I’m just gonna dig in and go for it. Whatever that means – whatever that looks like.

Action.

I am not only coming back to Nashville on saturday…I am really coming back. All of me.

Thanks Oregon!