Not My Own

Parents have been asking me lately how to talk to their preschool kids about God. My response usually involves me spitting out and choking on the current beverage I have poured down my throat. Why on earth anyone would think I know what I am doing in that realm is beyond me. Put me in a room with teenagers and their families and I am delighted to question and wrestle alongside them as we figure out our spiritual journey together. Put me in a room with preschoolers and I am completely clueless how to answer their most blatant questions. Their cuteness and unpredictably are like lethal weapons that cause me great anxiety. I love preschoolers with all my heart but they also terrify me. It's a weird bag of emotions. Anyway, when my own preschooler asks me questions about God I don't know what I am doing and I get all panicky about making sure I give him the right answers so I don't forever screw up his view of God. Truth is, I don't know what I am doing but I try my best

It's just been one of those weeks. Well, actually it's just been one of those months. I have been dealing with a colitis flare up which led to being on steroids, which means I feel like a crazy person, which means my husband has to deal with a crazy person. Oh yeah, and then there is doing all this while trying to parent a toddler and a preschooler. A toddler who keeps waking up in the night crying for no reason that we understand. Under these circumstances, one can understand why things in our marriage this past week have been a little awkward and a lot tense. Communication when we are both emotionally compromised has been a real bust. My incredible husband is the sweetest and most patient man I have ever known. This is one of the main reasons I married him. He is a true gem. We have a fantastic relationship and it's something I am ever so proud of. I adore him and our deep conversations that are never ending. However, life happens and it doesn't mean that we don&#