Lately, I've been talking a lot about children. As a Mom, my kids are really my number one "job". I wouldn't say they're my first priority because God and my husband do come before them (whoops! Sorry kiddos, but God is King and hubby will be around longer than you will!) but regardless, they are extremely important.
Part of being a mom in a family affected by addiction means being hyper-sensitive to our children's needs. Not only are our kids dealing with the "normal" aspects of childhood (which is tough enough!) but they're living in a stressful home environment. For older children who no longer live in the home the effects of addiction are no less devastating. If it's the child who is struggling with addiction themselves, clearly, they're in need of help.
How do we help our kids?
All people look for hope, happiness and purpose. To simplify it further into one word, what we look for is identity. This week I'm over at my friend Christine's blog talking about this search for identity and how very important it is to secure it for our children, most especially when their security is being derailed.
Here's a sneak peek at the post:
When I was a child, I was bullied. When I say “bullied”, I don’t mean that I was simply called names and teased. When I was a child I was ridiculed to tears, singled out, spit on (even in my mouth), physically attacked, had food crushed in my hair on the bus, had food thrown at me at recess, they put gum in my hair, put death threats in my school locker, spread vicious rumors about me and the day I, unfortunately, reached menstruation in the middle of a school day it was announced to the class. While laughter erupted amongst my peers, pieces of my identity slowly disappeared.
The bullying started in Kindergarten. My first bully was named, “Alicia”. She made me cry and I tried to run home to my mom. It was the beginning of many years of torment. The names of the bullies would change but their attacks got worse with age. More violent. More destructive. I found myself asking God almost daily, “Why me?”. Half of the bullies, I didn’t even personally know. What was it about me that someone could hate so much, without even knowing me? God didn’t answer my question.
At least, I didn’t think so.
Don't forget to leave a comment and share your own perspective, I love hearing from you!