I am Weak.

My weakness: Ice Cream and Mac and Cheese... speaking of which, I may have to make some Mac and Cheese before finishing this post....Okay, boiling water is a go. My husband went to bed tonight without me because I was given strict instructions to stop my life and blog (thank you Lord for a Mr. Steady/Command Man). So anyway, for your viewing pleasure I have inserted a few pictures from Thanksgiving.

I have been planning a blog in my head for some time now. Planning... I am really good at planning.. too bad that my follow through is somewhat lacking. Anyway, I have been planning this blog all about how I cooked these Paleo friendly Thanksgiving meals and how delicious they were, but honestly, I feel like tonight I just need to share how much of a failure I am. I am so not perfect. I get angry too easily, I double book myself all the time, and I am kind of a flake. I hate this qualities within myself like no other. They are the laziness, the fear, and the pride sneaking up to kill who I am, but nights like tonight... I just have to stop and figure out who am I at the center. Like an onion... sometimes you just have to peel away all that the world has heaped on so that you can come back to an understanding of who you are in Christ. That last sentence made it sound like you could do something, but really... God has done it all on the cross. That is why the cross is so vital to the Christian. Everything debt was paid on that cross, and I hang dearly to the cross for life and hope. I love that cross. It is the cross I bear because it is the only hope that I have. The cross is enough. The cross is where Jesus said it was finished, and I am so thankful that no matter how much of a failure I am, I can still kneal at the cross and hear the words "I took care of that."

 

I know my pictures have nothing to do with my post, but I couldn't leave out the cool Paleo dishes. I found most of these at Paleo OMG (it is basically the best website ever when it comes to Paleo). Anyways, back to the cross. When we were in college, we took this fun test to see what disciple we were most like. I got Peter (we were not surprised). Why Peter? Because I have way too much pride, arrogance, fear, and I speak way too often before thinking. I have hurt many people because of my simple minded words. I can totally relate to Peter. Maybe I have never denied Christ in word, but I am sure my actions have denied Him more than I care to recall. How embarrasing is it to call a friend and apologize for speaking or acting before thinking? In Luke 5:8, Peter realized that Jesus was in fact Christ. He fell down and told Jesus to leave his presence for Peter knew that he was a sinner. Oh My... can I relate!

So yeah... I did good at Thanksgiving, but I hit a low point a couple of days after and definitely went on a carb binge today, and I am sure I will pay for it later. I want to be a good person so badly it makes me sick. I really want to answer every phone call and text message I get. I want to have self control when it comes to food. I want to remember to write my friends. I want to sit up late at night and pray for friends and family that are hurting, but I fail. Thank God there is the cross.. Thank God there is tomorrow.

 My husband killing a tree stump.

 Thanksgiving Cookies and Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.

 Getting ready for the hayride!

It is Christmas at the Bean House.

Struggling to find Love

Do you ever get tired of talking?  Do you ever get tired of trying to do the very best you can do?  Do you ever get tired of encountering people who have one desire and that is to shut you down?  As the political season escalates, I have become more and more discouraged with our American lifestyle.  I wonder why we have so many missionaries heading for other countries and not hanging around in America... maybe it is become Americans (in general) have become so hardened by the Word of God?  Our hearts are no longer focused on selfless love.  Life is about using all the time you have to please yourself.  The word sacrafice is quickly dissapearing, and we no longer reach out to our brother and sister in love and peace.  The best and worst thing about reading articles on-line is that people can comment.  I get a better idea of where we are at as a country by reading the comments.  For example, two people may be discussing difference in political ideas, but instead of discussing what is better for a country, the discussion can quickly turn into a conversation of hatred by throwing verbal abuse back and forth.  These people may not seem very intelligent, but these people are normal. 

Ugh!  So many random words, and I still feel like I haven't gotten out my point!  I was reading an article about the new HPV vaccine.  The government now recommends having teenage girls betweent he ages of 12-16 (or something like that ) get this vaccine because the idea is that basically all girls between these ages will become sexually active even if that doesn't include direct intercourse.  Now apparently some religious group decided that this vaccine would actually cause girls to become more sexually active, so a bunch of researchers got together to prove that the vaccine did not cause girls to increase or decrease their sexual activity.  The comments on this article are fun.  Most of them are about how this stupid religious group should be ashamed of ordering this study (which if I read this correctly the group did not order the testing). 

Anyways, they go on and on about how the vaccine is so good, and then one woman posts about how she has taught her daughter why it is important to wait to have sex until marriage, but when her daughter was 16 she had her daughter take the vaccine for extra protection.  I guess you would call this absence plus education (which by the way everyone was commenting about how absence plus was the correct way to teach children about sex).  The next comment was directed at this mother.  It told her that more than likely her daughter was having sex by the age of 12 because most girls are having sex by that age and she was a horrible mother for not getting her daughter vaccine before 16.  The comment went on to say that if the government tells us to do something it is for our safety and it is good to just do it especially when our freedoms become a hazard to our safety. 

I wanted to cry.  Another dad posted something about teaching his daughter morals, and the comment in reply to him was simply, you are not a moral person and you have not taught your daughter anything to give her any moral background.  If you are using that book of Bible stories as your basis for morals then you are teaching a bunch of lies. 

OH YES!  That is right... whatever the government feeds us must be fact, but anything else is a book of lies.  Where do I get my plane ticket out?

All that is a little harsh.  I love America.  I love my soldiers.  I love my state and my freedoms.  I do lose hope.  Don't get me wrong, I do not think God has pulled His hand away from America or His people, but I do get so frustrated.  The church is told to speak out in love.  LOVE is the only way to fight or win any battle.  It is the only thing that will defeat the enemy.  Education, money, and giftings are all great, but according to the song, "If I don't have love, then I am bankrupt." 

You know what though.. it is hard to love.  It is hard to continue loving when someone throws everything you have ever believed or hope for back into your face.  It is hard when you are faced daily with lies that contradict what you know to be the truth.  Our kids our fed this daily, and so are we.  We love and love and love and then someone tells us we are bad parents, liars, manipulators, etc. and so forth.  So what does the church do?  We grow hard against the world.  We begin holding riots and picketing without a single ounce of love in our hearts.  We decide to fight hatred with hatred.  UGH! 

I am split.  I know that I must continue to love, but I get so angry.  I ask God all the time, why do I have to love that person?  Why did you allow me to invest time in that person to have it thrown back at me?  Why am I so open for attacks?  I think about buying a little house with a nice little fence, two sweet little cars, and working to buy nice things and raise two children (because anymore would just be ridiculous).  I smile about how safe that sounds.  Then reality comes in, and I realize that no matter what, as a believer, I am not safe... not from the world anyways.  Jesus said there would be trouble.  So, I get over my little dream, have my pity party, and keep moving.  I keep trying to love, and failing miserably, and asking God to pick me back up.  I keep falling into self-absorbed world and struggling again.  I ask God to give me the wisdom to determine an outright lie to an half-truth to truth. 



And life goes on.    

Alex Ezekial Bean

     One of the most amazing things about being the wife of Michael T. Bean is that he lets me deal with things the way that I need to deal with them.  He lets me express my pain and grief the best way I know how, and sometimes that looks really messy.  Sometimes it involves crying, eating, starving, running, and here recently... cleaning.  Sometimes it involves diving into the Word of God to see what He says about everything, and sometimes it deals with diving into my work.  My husband holds my hand through the crazy train, and when it is all said and done, I walk out of situations feeling bolder and encouraged.  Michael kindly presents truth without pushing it into my face. 


I started a post about a week ago titled "The Line between Dying and Living."  It was basically a rant about how if this baby were out of my womb and ended up dead, people (in general) would have been more considerate.  Honestly, though, we have had lots of love from all sorts of people, and there is hope where there is tragedy.  I am blessed by the flowers that sit on my table and other items of love we were given from people. I am so thankful for the love that was heaped upon us. 


If you ask Michael and I how we are doing, we will tell you good.  That is what people have been trained to say right?  We ask these questions, and we say these things because being "real" with people is scary.  The mixture of emotions in my head is way too complex to explain to people in short surface level conversations.  This was the second baby that we have lost.  The second baby now dead.  The second baby without a grave, and honestly, I think I may have grieved more with the first.  I almost expected this one to end like this.  Does that make me a person of little faith?  Perhaps.

Michael didn't think this one was gonna end.  From day one, he knew that he were going to get to keep this one.  He believed we were going to hold this baby.  He is not a person of little faith. 

Friday night, I shot a gala.  Later, we went to my brother and sister-in-laws house to watch a movie.  We talked and laughed late into the night, and before we went home I had to run to the bathroom.  I had finally got to the point in my pregnancy where I stopped checking for blood when I went to the restroom.  When I saw the blood... I thought I was living a dream.  This couldn't be real... not this time.  The doctor said my numbers looked good, and we saw the baby.  Why was I bleeding?  This is not normal... this is not okay.  I called my husband into the bathroom, and the look of horror on his face sent me into tears.  This was it... our baby was dead. 

When you are considered "high risk" like me, the doctor's really do not want to give you hope that your baby is going to make it the whole nine months.  Early in your pregnancy they tell you what to expect when you miscarry.  They call the process passing.  I hate... HATE the word miscarriage.  It is a mask that pro-choice America labeled a dying baby because the reality is too hard to handle.  I wonder about my own stance on pro-life and pro-choice debates.  I am a big pro-life supporter, but why am I so pro-life?  Is it because I believe that the child in the womb is in fact a baby, or is it because I know that soon the baby will be born and then it will be a child with a great future?

Saturday morning I woke up thinking the whole thing was a bad dream.  I even looked up information about bleeding during pregnancy.  The blood had definitely slowed down, and I thought, perhaps, our baby was still alive.  Around 2:30pm the "passing process" began.  Did you know that when your baby dies (even at six weeks) you still have to deliver the baby?  That is what they mean when they say miscarriage cramps and passing.  You have contractions, and you have to deliver the baby.  I would say around 7ish, we delivered our baby.  Though I feel like I grieved more with the last pregnancy, this pregnancy has left a scar on my heart I can't seem to get over.  A traumatic event that has got me terrified of answering the question, "how are you doing?"  There are so many events that have happened that has me wondering if I was a good mother.  I saw a picture of a six week old baby, and I wanted to throw up.  My baby didn't get a grave.  My poor little baby was given the same funeral we would give a yucky bug that we just killed.  The guilt and shame on my heart because of this one thing is the thing that keeps me up at night.  I think about the day I see my baby again.  I want to apologize to him. 

God is here.  He hasn't left me, and He is still good.  The worst words right now are that God is in control.  These words are incomplete and just leave me bitter.  God is in control... I know that!  I just struggle with the idea that God is still good.  My head knows that God is good... all the time.  My heart is just struggling with believing. That Saturday, three things happened.  I fell more in love with my husband.  My dear, sweet husband didn't get a moment rest.  By 5:30pm, I was in so much pain I couldn't move.  He held my hand and texted back and forth with my mother-in-law.  By 6:00pm, I was in a hot bath and starving.  My husband had to make dinner and run back and forth from the kitchen to the bathroom.  He never once threw in the towel.  He kept telling himself, "Right now, I focus on Paula... the rest will come."  The next thing that happened is something that will haunt me for awhile still.  The last thing that happened was a decision that my husband has sworn to help me with.  My disease is killing my children... so I must kill my disease. 


So how are we doing...really... good.  I am terrified about going back to church, but I know that I am going to have to go back sometime.  I have started getting rid of everything in our house that isn't useful.  We have too much stuff, and I need life to be simple right now.  We don't cry all the time.  We even have days where we do not cry at all.  I do not answer my phone all the time because I am an emotional mess right now, so I am trying to take my time with people.  I am recovering physically.  I still have to work, but I am thankful to not have a full time job right now.  Yes, there is still a God, and yes, He still is good.  I know that He has a huge purpose for us, and I honestly believe that the next child... we will get to keep and hold.  I really do think that we will bounce back more quickly this time.  However, there will always be the scar.       


Alex Ezekial Bean:  Alex means protector of men, and Ezekial with an A means God give me strength.  If he had been allowed to walk this Earth, he would have been a powerful force for the kingdom, but since God decided (for whatever reason) to take him early.  We must stand for him. 
   

She's Dead, Michael

     I finally got sick last night, but it wasn't because of the life growing inside of me.  It was because of the life of a wonderful, beautiful, and funny... oh so funny... 15-year-old that decided she had no desire to remain living on Tuesday night and took her own life.  A wonderful 15-year-old that at one point in her life sat under my leadership as a student, and then when her father became Michael's electrical teacher, I ran into her at least half a dozen other times in the last year. 
  
    I can't seem to wrap my mind around this.  I heard on Tuesday that a child (sophomore) had ended her life.  I quickly did the math in my head.  I taught 7th grade when I taught in that particular school district.  Would those children be sophomores yet... nope, they would be in the 9th grade.  I did my math wrong, though.  My kiddos were in fact entering their sophomore year, and two days after attending, they lost one of their own.  Apparently, it was a case of bullying.  A beautiful child that God created possibly hung out with the wrong people too much or wore different clothing.  Maybe she had gotten a reputation for something else, but either way this reputation spread rampant through the school and in the last two years apparently, the words had become enough! 

Enough.  By the end of last night, I cried behind the wheel of my car begging God for one more chance to talk to her, one more chance to hold her and tell her that God made her beautiful.  One more chance to put truth and life out there in front of her.  Granted, the same outcome may have occurred, but I remember so clearly being her teacher.  I was self-absorbed and convinced that God wanted me in another country like Africa. I didn't belong in America... there is no mission field in America.  The other half of dozen times I saw her, why didn't I just go talk with her.  Ask her about school, giggle about boys.  I stopped teaching in the public school because I felt that I was too limited.  I was eventually going to get in trouble for sharing my beliefs... it was just a matter of time.  However, it seems as if my fears and insecurity can limit me more than any American government or public school.  Time to face the truth.  I am not limited by any law the American government sets... I am limited by my own self-absorption. 

This has happened before.  Not too long ago, I had a friend die.  I had a moment before the death of this friend to share the good news of freedom through Christ.  I didn't do it.  I was too afraid of what this friend would think.  I never spoke to that friend again. 

In the Best Buy parking lot last night, that is the only conclusion I could come up with.  I looked my husband in the eye with the simple statement, "She is dead, Michael."  She is dead, gone, and the grief her parents are going to hold will be the most difficult thing they have ever faced.  The grief and guilt that enters her school is going to be extreme.  What if, she had just one adult... just one that she felt that she could call that night.  Just one teacher who may have decided to break the rules and give her their phone number or one used to be teacher that had a half dozen of chances to speak truth into her life.  What if there was one adult willing to say, "Okay, I am here to be the light, and it is okay for you to intrude into my life a little." 

I think about the young people of the world.  I wish, I could take every single one of them that was hurting and welcome them into our home and life, but the reality is... I can't.  God told us to take care of the poor, widows, orphans, and to raise the children to be men and women who love Him. 

We all have those stories right?  I knew the Holy Spirit was opening a door for ministry, but I was too (insert word here) to help.  I walked by knowingly missing the chance. 

I firmly believe that God is love, and I don't think the church should tolerate sin, but I am so angry that we treat sinners as outcasts.  I don't think the church should tolerate sin because sin is a bondage maker.  It traps people into living lives and believing lies that lead to death.  We are called to love, and we cannot quietly stand and let generations fall to the slavery of sin.  That is not love, but we can't teach our children to outcast them... talk poorly about them.  What if their skirt is too short or different from you... why does it matter?!?!  Why do we allow that to be an issue?  Maybe they do not attend church regularly.  Maybe they have the worst reputation in the world.  Why do we hide from them?  I'm sorry, you screwed your life up really early, so I don't want to be around you anymore.  I don't care if you are only 12, you are a bad influence. 

Then there is the other extreme right?  We don't care what your problem is, come to church, listen to some good music, play some games and see your friends!  At the end of the night, we are going to send you home just as empty and dead as you were when you got here, but you will have some fun for those two hours.  Don't worry about your sin.  We are going to accept you no matter what you are currently doing, and I promise, we will not pick out your sin because we are a no judging church.  We promise to never teach you truth or get too involved with your life. 

I miss this little girl, and I honestly barely knew her.  She was a good student, and from the outside looking in, she appeared to be fine. 

1 John 4:12
No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.

Because Roses have Thorns

Have you ever found it interesting that roses are the symbol for true romance?  As cliche as they may be, I don't believe there are many women out there that would get upset if they came home and their husband had a bouquet of roses waiting for them.  I love flowers.  I am one of those odd girls that buy themselves flowers just so I can have fresh flowers on my table.  I value the times that Michael will pick me a rose or a flower from a garden or from a path we are currently hiking.  It makes me feel especially valued and loved.  That seems so silly in writing, but I don't think I am alone.  There is something about getting flowers, and there is really something about getting roses. 

However, yesterday as I lay on my bed picking at the roses that lay on my pillow, my dear sweet husband tells me, "Be careful, they have thorns."  That seemed such a perfect comment for the day we were having.  Yesterday, my husband and I celebrated our first year of marriage.  People say that the first year is the hardest, but I can honestly say that marriage has been more natural than I believed it would be, and we have had a smooth year filled with wonderful memories.  I can honestly say that in addition to a smooth year, Michael and I made it through a year without any fights.  We had disagreements and frustrations, but when I think about fights I remember yelling and slamming doors.  We lasted an entire year without a single fight... well almost.

Michael and I woke up Monday morning ready to be angry at each other.  We laughed later that we should have both just went back to sleep and started the day over.  I decided that instead of being submissive, I would be rebellious, and Michael decided instead of being patient, he would allow frustration to creep into his head.  We were on our way to float the Buffalo, but we made it to Starbucks before Michael said that we couldn't do this today.  It just didn't feel right.  I made so many mistakes in the next few hours, and he did as well.  I ended up driving to my sister-in-laws house because I honestly felt like it was the most reverent thing I could do at the time.  I needed to back away from the situation.  When I returned home there were two letters and roses on my pillow.  We apologized to each other and came up with a plan to rescue the day.

Looking back on what happened, I almost laugh about how silly we were being.  The emotions and the hurt was real, but the expression of that emotion and hurt was childish.  One of the things my students never could understand was that for Michael and I, divorce is not an option.  We made a covenant on our wedding day not a contract.  That means that no matter how Michael disappoints me or how I disappoint Michael, we are together forever for better or worse.  Our pastor made this very clear during premarital counseling and the wedding itself, but I would tell my students that no couple ever gets married hoping for a divorce.  People marry hoping for a lifetime of happiness and love.  However, after just a short time in marriage, reality sets in for a rude awakening.  Men and women are so different.  Michael and I accidentally hurt each other all the time without knowing why our actions hurt the other.  Something I will say will just kill him and something he will do or most likely something he will forget to do will send me on a crazy train of fear and emotion. 

 Our Father in Heaven values the covenant of marriage as a symbol of His covenant with His people.  He promises to love no matter what happens, and we to have to promise to love no matter what happens.  My students would ask me questions like, "If Michael cheats on you, would you leave him then?"  I would respond with I hope that I am mature enough that in that moment I would forgive.  I would be hurt, and it would take awile to build trust, but I would forgive.  Why?  I cheat on God all the time by making other things my idols instead of worshipping Him.  He forgives and loves despite my actions.  Who am I to deny my husband the same forgiveness that God freely gives to me?

Roses have thorns, but we desire and cherish them anways.  Marriage also has thorns.  We haven't been married long.  We still have that newlywed feel about us, but we are learning.  Marriage takes a lot prayer, forgiveness, "I'm sorry," and obedience to the Word.  It takes sacrafice of things you thought were very important, and it takes a kind word.  It takes knowing that the enemy is against marriage and is trying to find ways to destroy your relationship.  Many times my husband will remind me, "this is an attack from the enemy."  Love is a choice.  I get to decided if I am going to love Michael today.  Love is not some crazy emotion that I have no control over.

I am thankful for my dear sweet husband who loves me much more than I could ever imagine!  I cannot believe that I am so blessed to be married to such an amazing man.  He is more forgiving and kind than I could ever hope to be.

We ended up hiking at Burns Park yesterday, and we had an amazing time!  I bought my first pair of Chacos with my husband's hard earned money, and we had to get a little dirt on them.  We cooked out with my sister-in-law and her family and finally ate a piece of our wedding cake. :)  Last night as we held each other, we thanked each other for a beautiful day.  A day that wouldn't have came if we were not willing to forgive and move on with our life and marriage.