I have not blogged in quite some time, despite it being one of my favorite pastimes. To be quite honest, I have had other writing projects on my mind. I have been reading Stephen King’s memoir, On Writing, hoping it will deliver me some key to the art I have been missing all of this time. His secret to writing: "write a lot, read a lot" I can’t say that I’ve read much in years, and if I am altogether honest with myself, even when I did read I am what you call a “skimmer.” Ok, not Harry Potter or anything but all of that classic literature I was supposed to be reading in school, well, what college student has time for that? So yes, now I am kicking myself for that sort of blasé attitude I have harbored towards reading literature that might actually help me become a better writer. As for King’s other suggestion, I must say, I do enjoy writing. So even though I have resolved to put 85% of my writing energy into a novel, I do not think that excuses me from keeping a blog. Simply because I enjoy it. Now, to pick up a fiction book….hmmm
One day I was sitting on the couch and turned to Paul, “I want to write a novel.” You may catch some of these next few lines in my preface, because yes, I have already begun to plan it. But in case you wondered, it is a cheesy, romance novel, because hey, I am a cheesy, romantic kind of girl. I could hardly write anything but. These questions started rising in my heart,
Can someone who cannot trust learn to?
Can someone who cannot receive love learn to?
Can someone locked in a prison of their past be set free?
Of course I know these things to be true because I’ve seen them happen in my own life, even if I am still on a journey for wholeness. It can happen. I look at my life and just see a blanket of overwhelming grace covering everything that I have done, and will do, and so these questions for me, are yes. A hundred times yes. But what about everyone else? After all, that is what ultimately salvation is about, to me, bringing people into freedom, not just “living with Jesus in their hearts.” I began to ask the questions because I know someone who raised them. His own story, if told truthfully, is checkered by a battered, abusive past, an emotionally absent father, and as irony would have it, religion. It would be safe to say that he has no moral compass in this world. He has been intimate with close to hundreds of the opposite sex, using him with no intentions of commitment, taunting them because he can. There is a chance he’s an addict. He is brash, and sarcastic, and borders on obnoxious, as if you couldn't deduce that on your own thanks to his other redeeming qualities. He is the most broken person I have ever met. And I began dreaming, scheming, asking God how someone like him could break free of his chains.
Since I was a little girl, struggling with my “issues” with men even then, I had this preconceived notion that really, good sex could fix anything. Ask my Barbie’s. As I got older, I found out overwhelmingly, that not to be the case. In fact, that idea sent my life into a spiral of heartache and despair that as a happily married woman I have only begun to crawl from. I talk about intimacy in such a way, but honestly it was love I thought to be the real catalyst for change. But if you’ve ever thought marriage would solve your significant other’s problems, you probably found out in the most difficult way that it doesn’t happen. Because guess what, it doesn’t, that is my most simply put response. The heart is not something to trust, I have discovered by allowing it to lead me places I never should have ventured. And if we’re honest with ourselves, very rarely do two people enter into a marriage whole or free.
So I set out to write. To explore those phenomenon’s of broken people. A man and a woman, neither who can trust or receive love, trying to solve all of their problems with the pursuit of it. The two of them are forced into an arranged marriage, as they are royalty. The heroine of my story, naturally, thinks love will conquer all. Sappy, romantic, sort of love. Though she is plagued with her own setbacks, such as fear that consumes her life.
The hero has sworn off feeling. Given his abusive past, he will not consent to such love, nor can he trust. These two, married, cannot bring themselves to consummate a marriage given the scars from their past. But is freedom for them? I can’t tell. I just do not know. I did, at once. I had an idea of how I wanted them to come remarkably together, stripping away their reservations (and clothes, if I’m honest) in a grove of wildflowers and being whole for the first time. Just before she tells her fear to the wind, and he pours his wine into a nearby stream.
I have to ask myself, how often does that happen? I hate to be such a cynic but I happen to be the daughter of an addict that didn’t recover, the friend to many who find themselves in chains, and try as they may, they cannot be set free. I also happen to be a person still contending for 100% freedom from bondage. I lay in my bed just last night, unable to sleep for fear that my house would catch on fire and I wouldn’t be able to get to my kids in time. I woke up twice to unplug things in the kitchen. Maybe it was the Holy Spirit, I reasoned. Or maybe I’m just utterly mad. Whatever it is, I can hardly finish this novel now. Because I don’t want the wife of an alcoholic to read it and wonder why her husband can’t pour his habit out. I recall how I once read romance novels, really cheesy ones most of my life and came to find that marriage, or my marriage, is nothing close. I don’t want to be a liar. Because alcoholics don’t usually find freedom, people trapped in anxiety will take medicines their entire lives so they can't feel, not even the good stuff, and people who cannot be loved will have all of the sex in the world and never get a taste of intimacy.
So, what kind of novelist would I be if there were no resolve in the end of my story? I’ll tell you, one that doesn’t sell a single book.
I guess that’s the point. People want to believe there is hope. I want to believe there is, that’s why I started this project. I know Jesus did not die in vain, we can be free. I also am not ignorant to the woes of the world. I do not think it is effortless. I do not think that 12 steps and a memorized prayer can save our lives. I know firsthand that freedom is something that you have to fight for, for the pursuit of such is the anthem of all written history.
If you decide to buy my book, and read it- I hope you do. Know this, I am not naïve for a second. I am sitting on the other side of this keyboard thinking, “People just don’t get free like this! I am such a pathetic dreamer!” But on the same token here, I have to believe it. I have to. Or there is just no reason for a transformative gospel.
So I sigh, and doubt myself every second, but I do not doubt that freedom is not as far off as we imagine. It is close. It is in Him.
I consistenly listen to these lyrics as I write my novel:
"In the glory of your presence, I find rest for my soul.
In the depths of your love, I find peace, makes me whole."
"Give your heart to Jesus, there is freedom.
Give your heart to Jesus, there is freedom....
Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom."
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
A Loose, and Early Review of "Love and Logic"
I am writing this from the floor of my living room. I am too tired to sit at the kitchen table without some way to recline and rest. And yet, the couch cushions have been taken off and piled up into some sort of military fort covered in trucks and trailers. I told Jake he could keep it like that. We do own a recliner, but Rush has claimed that. So here I sit, on the floor. Today has been a difficult day, for some reason. I am aware so much that as a parent I am continually dying to myself. It is a give and take because as Mom, I still need to remain partially Summer. Still, changes must occur. And boy do they!
Parenting is hard. So yes, I read 50,000 parenting books trying to figure out what is going to work for my family. And so many of them I am left with holes in my thinking…hmm, what does this mean? But what about bedtime? What about spankings? What about a million things that I deal with and I can’t fit it into the framework of this book? I read Loving Your Children on Purpose by Danny Silk and I enjoyed it. But I had that framework issue yet again. So recently I purchased Love and Logic for Early Childhood. I feel like my greatest challenges as a parent are: 1) getting frustrated, 2) getting overwhelmed, 3) getting angry. These are the things I want out of my life because each one, in my opinion, is rooted in selfishness.
Number one happens when I am trying to clean the kitchen and Jake screams out “THAT’S MINE, NO YOU CAN’T HAVE THAT, SONORA!!!” I mean, how do I solve that? Currently I have him ask her for it nicely. I have to find out if he was even playing with it because sometimes she’ll innocently carry something from the room and he’ll decide, even though he wasn’t playing with it, that she cannot have it. Paul read in a John Eldredge book that men need to have domains, kingdoms that belong to them. Therefore, Jake has about 10 toys that are not to be touched by Sonora Grace. So once we figure out if any of these by-laws apply to the situation, he asks for it nicely, she says no, so I have to take it from her. Then she screams at the top of her lungs so I drop her off in the bedroom. And then it’s back to handle Jake because he didn’t exactly respond lovingly to his sister. So once we get that in order, it’s back to get Sonora in the bedroom to see if she is ready to act nice. Since she is still screaming at the top of her lungs and pounding the floor I hold her in my lap and rock her until she calms down because somewhere, in some parenting book I read it said that she needs to learn how to handle these emotions in a healthy way. So I sit with her and rock her and help her calm down and make her give me a hug and say she is sorry before she can get up. Then it’s back to the kitchen to finish what I started, if I can even remember.
Number two happens in the grocery store. Jake and Sonora cry and whine and try to commit suicide by jumping out of the cart until they are both walking with me. Then they are running away, and darting in front of other people. I have learned that if I continuously allow myself to get overwhelmed, and therefore do not handle the little hooligans in a controlled, confident manner than I really have no right being a parent. So I do gather them up, put them back in the cart, or have them hold my cart and we live by the rule that obedience to “mommy law” brings freedom. So if they want to listen they can gradually make their way away from me again, only a couple of feet or so. And no running, please none of that! But then someone has to go pee pee. And my cart doesn’t fit in the bathroom, nor is it allowed. So I’m watching Jake pee in this disgusting public toilet while barring Sonora out of the room with my knee that is holding the door open because one germ infested child is enough for me. Just as I come around the corner someone I know congratulates me on having a third baby and I think to myself, I can’t even shop with two of these guys following me around, throwing cheap pastries in my cart while I’m not looking, and making my nerves fry as I watch their fingers graze the cart wheels and I've warned them to "BE CAREFUL!" ten times. ARRRGH!
Number three happened today, although I behaved myself I have to say. Part of Love and Logic parenting is just being nonchalant, “you’re playing with your food, I guess you are done eating,” and away goes the plate. But today I was eating a big salad. I made my kids big salads too. And while Jake ate well on his own, Sonora somehow crept her little sticky self into my lap. My kids are always sticky. No matter how many times we wipe their hands and faces, they are sticky little beings. And we have two dogs, which means that sticky hands are magnets for dog hair. So Sonora sits on my lap and neglects her own plate, picking what she wants off of mine with her doggy hair, sticky-with-I-don’t-know-what fingers and every time she pops a veggie in her mouth that she does not like, she leans over my plate and spits it out on my salad. So every bite I take I am inspecting for dog hair, and/or veggies that have been pre-chewed. I’m thinking, must die to myself, but I’m feeling like I might explode when little ones dig their hands into my food. Does Michelle Duggar ever get to eat? Because my plate hits the table and everyone is convinced that I have something better than they do.
So Love and Logic is helping me a great deal because it is encouraging me to sort of chill out (already sort of a goal of mine). At the same time, it’s encouraging me that my kids need limits and boundaries and if I’m not going to enforce them, than who will? My kids need me to do that for them. It’s not that I don’t, I’m just pretty sure I heard advice to only address moral or rebellious issues in strong kids. But Sonora Grace is taking over my life. My hips were hurting because I could not make her get off of me this morning. So when I finally put her down in the kitchen so I could make lunch (and I’m creeping up on feelings number one, two, and three) she turns on the dishwasher. So I say, “no we don’t do that.” And she does it again, right away.
“uh-oh, Sonora can’t play in the kitchen now.” *SCREEEEEAAAAAAMIIIING”
“oh-oh, Sonora can’t be sweet, she has to go into the bedroom.” *SCREEEEEECH-SCREEEAM*
Back to the kitchen to finish lunch. Screaming subsides and my little justice hound comes to find me, “Mommy, you might want to go to talk to Sonora now about being nice.” Thank you, Jake.
“You ready to be sweet?” *nods sweetly, holding her hands up* I’m thinking, dang it, how am I holding her again? I just put her down!
Back to the kitchen where I put her down and she walks over to my bulletin board. It has tacks holding pictures of our family and friends on it, and she rips two pictures off and tacks go flying, and just as I step forward to pick one up, my foot lands on that it is needle point up. “OOUUUUUUUCH!!!” (At the top of my lungs. My kids were thoroughly frightened!)
So now Jake has rushed into the kitchen to see what is going on, and Sonora is staring at me and I’m realizing that lunch is not made, and I have a tack in my foot, and two small children are now crowding my tiny kitchen. “Uh-oh, no one is allowed in the kitchen right now while Mommy is doing lunch. Thank you.”
Sonora falls to the floor and has another meltdown. “uh-oh, Sonora can’t be sweet, she has to go to the bedroom.” And I carry her back to the bedroom and plop her down on the bed. She slams the door.
So my favorite thing about this book so far is that I don’t have to lay down my life for my kids, 100% that is. Changes have to be made, but I don’t have to give up everything that makes me who I am. And I enjoy eating my own food once in a while. And I definitely do not like holding Sonora on my hip so much during the day, ouch! I just felt like the book really set me free that yes, I need to die to myself for the sake of my kids, but an important element of me being a Mom to my kids is that it’s me. I’m going to be miserable if that foundation gets squashed for the sake of avoiding tantrums.
Parenting is just plain difficult sometimes. As soon as I opened this book, I knew that Sonora was one that I would have to be fighting. But Jake is doing great. Today I said, “You pick up your trucks, or Mommy?,” and he said, “I think Mommy.” So I responded, “Ok, I will but you’ll have to pay me. Hmm, what can you pay me with? How about this jeep and monster truck?” You should have seen him drop the toys he had in his hand as he ran to pick up his things! He picked up every single toy, and when he was finished he said, “Now I don’t gotta pay you, huh?” Worked like a charm.
So there is a loose review of the book, I haven’t finished but I am enjoying the attitude that it is instilling in me. I feel much cooler and laid back and in control knowing the boundaries to lay out. I know that NO parenting book is going to do it all for me. Ultimately, my foundation is wisdom from God, but it helps to have some guidelines that I can apply on a day to day basis. Oh, how it helps.
Parenting is hard. So yes, I read 50,000 parenting books trying to figure out what is going to work for my family. And so many of them I am left with holes in my thinking…hmm, what does this mean? But what about bedtime? What about spankings? What about a million things that I deal with and I can’t fit it into the framework of this book? I read Loving Your Children on Purpose by Danny Silk and I enjoyed it. But I had that framework issue yet again. So recently I purchased Love and Logic for Early Childhood. I feel like my greatest challenges as a parent are: 1) getting frustrated, 2) getting overwhelmed, 3) getting angry. These are the things I want out of my life because each one, in my opinion, is rooted in selfishness.
Number one happens when I am trying to clean the kitchen and Jake screams out “THAT’S MINE, NO YOU CAN’T HAVE THAT, SONORA!!!” I mean, how do I solve that? Currently I have him ask her for it nicely. I have to find out if he was even playing with it because sometimes she’ll innocently carry something from the room and he’ll decide, even though he wasn’t playing with it, that she cannot have it. Paul read in a John Eldredge book that men need to have domains, kingdoms that belong to them. Therefore, Jake has about 10 toys that are not to be touched by Sonora Grace. So once we figure out if any of these by-laws apply to the situation, he asks for it nicely, she says no, so I have to take it from her. Then she screams at the top of her lungs so I drop her off in the bedroom. And then it’s back to handle Jake because he didn’t exactly respond lovingly to his sister. So once we get that in order, it’s back to get Sonora in the bedroom to see if she is ready to act nice. Since she is still screaming at the top of her lungs and pounding the floor I hold her in my lap and rock her until she calms down because somewhere, in some parenting book I read it said that she needs to learn how to handle these emotions in a healthy way. So I sit with her and rock her and help her calm down and make her give me a hug and say she is sorry before she can get up. Then it’s back to the kitchen to finish what I started, if I can even remember.
Number two happens in the grocery store. Jake and Sonora cry and whine and try to commit suicide by jumping out of the cart until they are both walking with me. Then they are running away, and darting in front of other people. I have learned that if I continuously allow myself to get overwhelmed, and therefore do not handle the little hooligans in a controlled, confident manner than I really have no right being a parent. So I do gather them up, put them back in the cart, or have them hold my cart and we live by the rule that obedience to “mommy law” brings freedom. So if they want to listen they can gradually make their way away from me again, only a couple of feet or so. And no running, please none of that! But then someone has to go pee pee. And my cart doesn’t fit in the bathroom, nor is it allowed. So I’m watching Jake pee in this disgusting public toilet while barring Sonora out of the room with my knee that is holding the door open because one germ infested child is enough for me. Just as I come around the corner someone I know congratulates me on having a third baby and I think to myself, I can’t even shop with two of these guys following me around, throwing cheap pastries in my cart while I’m not looking, and making my nerves fry as I watch their fingers graze the cart wheels and I've warned them to "BE CAREFUL!" ten times. ARRRGH!
Number three happened today, although I behaved myself I have to say. Part of Love and Logic parenting is just being nonchalant, “you’re playing with your food, I guess you are done eating,” and away goes the plate. But today I was eating a big salad. I made my kids big salads too. And while Jake ate well on his own, Sonora somehow crept her little sticky self into my lap. My kids are always sticky. No matter how many times we wipe their hands and faces, they are sticky little beings. And we have two dogs, which means that sticky hands are magnets for dog hair. So Sonora sits on my lap and neglects her own plate, picking what she wants off of mine with her doggy hair, sticky-with-I-don’t-know-what fingers and every time she pops a veggie in her mouth that she does not like, she leans over my plate and spits it out on my salad. So every bite I take I am inspecting for dog hair, and/or veggies that have been pre-chewed. I’m thinking, must die to myself, but I’m feeling like I might explode when little ones dig their hands into my food. Does Michelle Duggar ever get to eat? Because my plate hits the table and everyone is convinced that I have something better than they do.
So Love and Logic is helping me a great deal because it is encouraging me to sort of chill out (already sort of a goal of mine). At the same time, it’s encouraging me that my kids need limits and boundaries and if I’m not going to enforce them, than who will? My kids need me to do that for them. It’s not that I don’t, I’m just pretty sure I heard advice to only address moral or rebellious issues in strong kids. But Sonora Grace is taking over my life. My hips were hurting because I could not make her get off of me this morning. So when I finally put her down in the kitchen so I could make lunch (and I’m creeping up on feelings number one, two, and three) she turns on the dishwasher. So I say, “no we don’t do that.” And she does it again, right away.
“uh-oh, Sonora can’t play in the kitchen now.” *SCREEEEEAAAAAAMIIIING”
“oh-oh, Sonora can’t be sweet, she has to go into the bedroom.” *SCREEEEEECH-SCREEEAM*
Back to the kitchen to finish lunch. Screaming subsides and my little justice hound comes to find me, “Mommy, you might want to go to talk to Sonora now about being nice.” Thank you, Jake.
“You ready to be sweet?” *nods sweetly, holding her hands up* I’m thinking, dang it, how am I holding her again? I just put her down!
Back to the kitchen where I put her down and she walks over to my bulletin board. It has tacks holding pictures of our family and friends on it, and she rips two pictures off and tacks go flying, and just as I step forward to pick one up, my foot lands on that it is needle point up. “OOUUUUUUUCH!!!” (At the top of my lungs. My kids were thoroughly frightened!)
So now Jake has rushed into the kitchen to see what is going on, and Sonora is staring at me and I’m realizing that lunch is not made, and I have a tack in my foot, and two small children are now crowding my tiny kitchen. “Uh-oh, no one is allowed in the kitchen right now while Mommy is doing lunch. Thank you.”
Sonora falls to the floor and has another meltdown. “uh-oh, Sonora can’t be sweet, she has to go to the bedroom.” And I carry her back to the bedroom and plop her down on the bed. She slams the door.
So my favorite thing about this book so far is that I don’t have to lay down my life for my kids, 100% that is. Changes have to be made, but I don’t have to give up everything that makes me who I am. And I enjoy eating my own food once in a while. And I definitely do not like holding Sonora on my hip so much during the day, ouch! I just felt like the book really set me free that yes, I need to die to myself for the sake of my kids, but an important element of me being a Mom to my kids is that it’s me. I’m going to be miserable if that foundation gets squashed for the sake of avoiding tantrums.
Parenting is just plain difficult sometimes. As soon as I opened this book, I knew that Sonora was one that I would have to be fighting. But Jake is doing great. Today I said, “You pick up your trucks, or Mommy?,” and he said, “I think Mommy.” So I responded, “Ok, I will but you’ll have to pay me. Hmm, what can you pay me with? How about this jeep and monster truck?” You should have seen him drop the toys he had in his hand as he ran to pick up his things! He picked up every single toy, and when he was finished he said, “Now I don’t gotta pay you, huh?” Worked like a charm.
So there is a loose review of the book, I haven’t finished but I am enjoying the attitude that it is instilling in me. I feel much cooler and laid back and in control knowing the boundaries to lay out. I know that NO parenting book is going to do it all for me. Ultimately, my foundation is wisdom from God, but it helps to have some guidelines that I can apply on a day to day basis. Oh, how it helps.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Reflections on Mercy
Sometimes when I get to my computer and sit down to blog the only topics that come to mind are areas in which I’ve experienced defeat. Especially parenting (Hmm, where did I put that instruction manual?). And I’ve felt guilty lately because with sick children, and wild children, and a working husband, this tired pregnant mommy’s prayer “schedule” has been slipping. What is a prayer schedule anyway? I’ve been trying to figure all of this out because when I’m not getting up in the morning praying and reading my Bible I feel guilty. But the truth is, I’m not not spending time with God, I pray throughout the day. I quote scripture to myself so I don’t freak out. I ask my kids, “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is????” and we talk about those kinds of things. But the Lord reminded me the other day that it’s still important that I sit with Him because that’s how I learn about my gifts and grow in them. And He reminded me all these things He has shown me and taught me, the same kinds of things that get brushed under the rug when I don’t have time. For that I am sorry because I have been truly blessed.
I’ve had this blog on my mind for a while because the Kony 2012 video has been floating around and I have not watched it. And here is why:
When I was about 8 years old I accidentally saw a scene from America’s Most Wanted, it was a replay of a child being murdered. And I was never the same after that point. For one, I experienced my first “panic attack.” I am not sure if I would lose my breath first and then sob, or sob so incessantly that I could not breathe. But it is a scary place to be. No one really understood what was going on, least of all me. Then it happened again, several weeks later when 7th Heaven did a special on the Holocaust (anyone else remember Simon’s presentation?) and it happened again. I cried so hard and so much that my chest burned like fire. I gasped for air and found no relief. I was absolutely crippled by the experience and as it happened more frequently, the anxiety became a hovering fear in my life. The only way out was counseling and medication of which I became increasingly dependent on to shield me from that type of pain. When I reached adulthood I got to a point where I could take my medicine “as needed.” As I began to fall away from God, I actually found that anxiety decreased. I rarely took my medicine and when I had Jacob, I altogether gave it up for fear of harm to him through pregnancy and then breastfeeding. Yet once I turned back to the Lord and ultimately moved into a house on my own, I found some of those same “demons” creeping up in my life again.
I started at Pfeiffer University in the Fall of 2008 and our psychology class announced that we would be watching the Invisible Children documentary. I knew that I was sensitive to this kind of material but thought that maybe my age would conquer all. Not so. I watched the first 20 minutes of the documentary and packed my bags and headed to the bathroom. And there I was, 21 years old collapsed on the floor of a stall unable to breathe. I sobbed so hard that my body shook and I didn’t know where I was, or how I got there, or what was going on. All I knew is that I just wanted to die. And for what? Because children were suffering and I could do nothing? Because of the injustice? Because my heart could not handle that sort of pain and suffering? I do not even know how long I lay on the floor, but I managed to pick up my stuff and run to my car. I called Paul as soon as closed the door and hung up when I couldn’t speak. I lay my seat down flat and cried out to God, “Why don’t you do something?” I tried to catch my breath, to calm my heart, to steady my shaky body but there was no stopping it. I do not even remember slowing down to drive home, but some how I made it out of that place of misery and drove. And it wasn’t long before I encountered number two.
The anniversary of the Virginia Tech shooting flooded my TV and yet, I did not want to remember. What could I do? But I found myself sitting in class thinking about such a thing, discussing the horror of it all and the evil nature of the world we live in. And I looked around at my classroom and had a vision of what happened, and these were all my friends, and I thought of my son, and I thought of the fear that must have gone through these student’s minds. And off I was to the bathroom, sitting in the corner wondering how I was going to go through life like this. And I cried, I cried so hard once more that I couldn’t move. My husband was at work so I called my Mom once I caught my breath. She calmed me down and I made my way to a trusted teacher who advised me to get back on my medicine, and do it quick. But Paul couldn’t see how that would be the answer, and little did I know about bondage. I never went back on my medicine especially after deliverance, although I still have experiences like this in the bathroom, NOT often. But it’s happened once or twice since that time. I’ve learned through reading and spending time with others like myself that this is actually a spiritual gift. That often times the heaviness on my heart is mercy and the compulsion to release the burden is intercession.
Discovering intercession set me free. I have found that a good definition of mercy is to feel the heart of God (in most situations) meaning that things that God abhors will usually send me into a tailspin if I can’t figure out what to do with those emotions. For one, division especially sets me off. I have found myself depressed for days, even lashing out at my family when there is division in or around me. The trick is finding a solution in prayer. Seeing children in pain will crush me to a point of uselessness. There is such a cry in me to go to the nations and love on children and I wonder how, how on earth will I ever do something like that? Some of it is the enemy distorting my gifts, I regret all of the times in my life that I didn’t understand what was happening. And yet some of it really comes down to the way God made me. I wanted to share a bit of my journey of discovering the dance of mercy and intercession. It’s a road that I’m still working my way down, and there are plenty of times that I sit in the place of pain and do not give it back to God or agree for restoration. So I have not watched the Kony 2012 video yet because I know myself and I am just not ready. Here are things that I’ve resolved to do that help me cope with these gifts. I remember telling Alva that I walked in mercy and she said, “me too, sweetheart, what a burden.” It can be, it absolutely can cripple me. But I know that out of that place in my heart comes powerful prayers. These are some things that help me cope:
1) No more “edge of your seat” movies. I can not take them, and I especially cannot stand movies where people are hurting. Paul doesn’t understand why I can never watch Reign Over Me again, nor any other September 11th movie. There is no other way for me to say it except that I cannot subject myself to even fantasy depictions like such because I just can’t separate it out in my heart.
2) I look for the root of whatever I’m feeling. Like disturbance in peace (division!), or someone’s emotional pain, or worrying about a friend’s health. That way I can go to God and figure out why I am feeling disruption in my spirit over these things specifically.
3) I pray. I have to give it to God or it will all be over for me! And I’m not so great at this yet, I am a newbie J That is why I’m avoiding the documentary, I know it will stir things in my heart that I do not want to feel, but that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t. It just means that I have to spiritually prepare myself for something so real, and painful when I have the luxury of preparation.
4) Get mentors. I have to have wise women and men in my life to help shepherd me in these feelings. I know in one instance I became very fixated on a broken person to the point where I was trying to reason in my mind how I could fix their life. The feeling in my heart was so strong that I questioned how I could take care of their heart and still take care of my family. But it wasn’t my heart to care for them and love them, it was God’s heart for them. The compassion that I felt was so overwhelming, but every step of the way I stayed transparent with a close friend who helped me work through the maze of emotions I was feeling and how to turn them over to God in prayer.
5) Just because I feel God’s emotions does not make it appropriate to express them. For example, abortion hurts me to the core. When I meditate on such an atrocity, it makes me angry for one. But when I really take it to the Lord, I find that we mostly just weep together. And that is ok, but when I take those emotions into a debate about abortion with pro-choicers, I do not behave myself, and there is no rein on my emotions. Reins are important to have as a believer. God wants me to respond in truth and grace, and in His timing, and by His leading.
6) I also learned through reading The Happy Intercessor by Beni Johnson (highly recommend for you intercessors out there) that there is a type of intercessory prayer called travailing. It is literally when you pray so hard that you go into a state of painful, tearful oblivion. I honestly have come to a place where I believe that is what I experienced as a child and labeled “panic attacks.” The only difference is, the enemy held the reins and caused it to be a very painful experience. I know the couple of times I have felt this as a believer and aware of the Lord’s hand in it, it has been comforting to feel the Holy Spirit travailing with me. I didn’t feel powerless and overwhelmed, to simply state it.
I wanted to share some of my journey because on one hand I wish I would have known all of this about myself earlier. On the other hand, how blessed I am that I understand my gifts at such a young age. God has given me so much grace and I know He has more for me when it comes to walking in intercession and mercy. So I definitely recommend taking a spiritual gifts test for any of you believers out there, there are several online. I know that when I took one last year the questions for intercession were like, “do you feel the need to pray for hours at a time?” And I would think to myself, not exactly.
But I do like to pray. I like to keep an open line. I honestly think that quite frankly, I stink at praying out loud with others. But when I am in a place of “intercessory prayer” I absolutely love agreeing with God and seeing what He is up to, and how and where He is desiring to bring His kingdom. I have found that though mercy can be a burden to me, with intercession to accompany it is an exciting, whirlwind of an experience of which I have been grateful for.
In The Happy Intercessor, Beni says that you can determine whether or not you are an intercessor not by how much you pray, but by how much you desire to know God’s heart, and be in His presence. And I have found that without these things, I am a useless lady. In fact, it’s funny to me the differences between Paul and I because he will began get stir crazy without listening to sermons and podcasts every day. Sometimes when he hears a good one and wants me to listen, it can take me days and weeks to get around to it. Yes, he’s the knowledge, prophet guy around the house. But if I can’t take a deep breath and know God is with me right there, I have to find a corner or get under a blanket and ask for restoration. So anyway, if you don’t feel like you are walking in your gifts, there are ways to activate that, I’d be happy to share what I know. I would especially love to talk with any veterans ( I pull Jan Higgins and Alva Peters aside every chance I get…I sit at their feet, if you want to know). I, for one, have been blessed by the journey! I hope this helped somebody J
I’ve had this blog on my mind for a while because the Kony 2012 video has been floating around and I have not watched it. And here is why:
When I was about 8 years old I accidentally saw a scene from America’s Most Wanted, it was a replay of a child being murdered. And I was never the same after that point. For one, I experienced my first “panic attack.” I am not sure if I would lose my breath first and then sob, or sob so incessantly that I could not breathe. But it is a scary place to be. No one really understood what was going on, least of all me. Then it happened again, several weeks later when 7th Heaven did a special on the Holocaust (anyone else remember Simon’s presentation?) and it happened again. I cried so hard and so much that my chest burned like fire. I gasped for air and found no relief. I was absolutely crippled by the experience and as it happened more frequently, the anxiety became a hovering fear in my life. The only way out was counseling and medication of which I became increasingly dependent on to shield me from that type of pain. When I reached adulthood I got to a point where I could take my medicine “as needed.” As I began to fall away from God, I actually found that anxiety decreased. I rarely took my medicine and when I had Jacob, I altogether gave it up for fear of harm to him through pregnancy and then breastfeeding. Yet once I turned back to the Lord and ultimately moved into a house on my own, I found some of those same “demons” creeping up in my life again.
I started at Pfeiffer University in the Fall of 2008 and our psychology class announced that we would be watching the Invisible Children documentary. I knew that I was sensitive to this kind of material but thought that maybe my age would conquer all. Not so. I watched the first 20 minutes of the documentary and packed my bags and headed to the bathroom. And there I was, 21 years old collapsed on the floor of a stall unable to breathe. I sobbed so hard that my body shook and I didn’t know where I was, or how I got there, or what was going on. All I knew is that I just wanted to die. And for what? Because children were suffering and I could do nothing? Because of the injustice? Because my heart could not handle that sort of pain and suffering? I do not even know how long I lay on the floor, but I managed to pick up my stuff and run to my car. I called Paul as soon as closed the door and hung up when I couldn’t speak. I lay my seat down flat and cried out to God, “Why don’t you do something?” I tried to catch my breath, to calm my heart, to steady my shaky body but there was no stopping it. I do not even remember slowing down to drive home, but some how I made it out of that place of misery and drove. And it wasn’t long before I encountered number two.
The anniversary of the Virginia Tech shooting flooded my TV and yet, I did not want to remember. What could I do? But I found myself sitting in class thinking about such a thing, discussing the horror of it all and the evil nature of the world we live in. And I looked around at my classroom and had a vision of what happened, and these were all my friends, and I thought of my son, and I thought of the fear that must have gone through these student’s minds. And off I was to the bathroom, sitting in the corner wondering how I was going to go through life like this. And I cried, I cried so hard once more that I couldn’t move. My husband was at work so I called my Mom once I caught my breath. She calmed me down and I made my way to a trusted teacher who advised me to get back on my medicine, and do it quick. But Paul couldn’t see how that would be the answer, and little did I know about bondage. I never went back on my medicine especially after deliverance, although I still have experiences like this in the bathroom, NOT often. But it’s happened once or twice since that time. I’ve learned through reading and spending time with others like myself that this is actually a spiritual gift. That often times the heaviness on my heart is mercy and the compulsion to release the burden is intercession.
Discovering intercession set me free. I have found that a good definition of mercy is to feel the heart of God (in most situations) meaning that things that God abhors will usually send me into a tailspin if I can’t figure out what to do with those emotions. For one, division especially sets me off. I have found myself depressed for days, even lashing out at my family when there is division in or around me. The trick is finding a solution in prayer. Seeing children in pain will crush me to a point of uselessness. There is such a cry in me to go to the nations and love on children and I wonder how, how on earth will I ever do something like that? Some of it is the enemy distorting my gifts, I regret all of the times in my life that I didn’t understand what was happening. And yet some of it really comes down to the way God made me. I wanted to share a bit of my journey of discovering the dance of mercy and intercession. It’s a road that I’m still working my way down, and there are plenty of times that I sit in the place of pain and do not give it back to God or agree for restoration. So I have not watched the Kony 2012 video yet because I know myself and I am just not ready. Here are things that I’ve resolved to do that help me cope with these gifts. I remember telling Alva that I walked in mercy and she said, “me too, sweetheart, what a burden.” It can be, it absolutely can cripple me. But I know that out of that place in my heart comes powerful prayers. These are some things that help me cope:
1) No more “edge of your seat” movies. I can not take them, and I especially cannot stand movies where people are hurting. Paul doesn’t understand why I can never watch Reign Over Me again, nor any other September 11th movie. There is no other way for me to say it except that I cannot subject myself to even fantasy depictions like such because I just can’t separate it out in my heart.
2) I look for the root of whatever I’m feeling. Like disturbance in peace (division!), or someone’s emotional pain, or worrying about a friend’s health. That way I can go to God and figure out why I am feeling disruption in my spirit over these things specifically.
3) I pray. I have to give it to God or it will all be over for me! And I’m not so great at this yet, I am a newbie J That is why I’m avoiding the documentary, I know it will stir things in my heart that I do not want to feel, but that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t. It just means that I have to spiritually prepare myself for something so real, and painful when I have the luxury of preparation.
4) Get mentors. I have to have wise women and men in my life to help shepherd me in these feelings. I know in one instance I became very fixated on a broken person to the point where I was trying to reason in my mind how I could fix their life. The feeling in my heart was so strong that I questioned how I could take care of their heart and still take care of my family. But it wasn’t my heart to care for them and love them, it was God’s heart for them. The compassion that I felt was so overwhelming, but every step of the way I stayed transparent with a close friend who helped me work through the maze of emotions I was feeling and how to turn them over to God in prayer.
5) Just because I feel God’s emotions does not make it appropriate to express them. For example, abortion hurts me to the core. When I meditate on such an atrocity, it makes me angry for one. But when I really take it to the Lord, I find that we mostly just weep together. And that is ok, but when I take those emotions into a debate about abortion with pro-choicers, I do not behave myself, and there is no rein on my emotions. Reins are important to have as a believer. God wants me to respond in truth and grace, and in His timing, and by His leading.
6) I also learned through reading The Happy Intercessor by Beni Johnson (highly recommend for you intercessors out there) that there is a type of intercessory prayer called travailing. It is literally when you pray so hard that you go into a state of painful, tearful oblivion. I honestly have come to a place where I believe that is what I experienced as a child and labeled “panic attacks.” The only difference is, the enemy held the reins and caused it to be a very painful experience. I know the couple of times I have felt this as a believer and aware of the Lord’s hand in it, it has been comforting to feel the Holy Spirit travailing with me. I didn’t feel powerless and overwhelmed, to simply state it.
I wanted to share some of my journey because on one hand I wish I would have known all of this about myself earlier. On the other hand, how blessed I am that I understand my gifts at such a young age. God has given me so much grace and I know He has more for me when it comes to walking in intercession and mercy. So I definitely recommend taking a spiritual gifts test for any of you believers out there, there are several online. I know that when I took one last year the questions for intercession were like, “do you feel the need to pray for hours at a time?” And I would think to myself, not exactly.
But I do like to pray. I like to keep an open line. I honestly think that quite frankly, I stink at praying out loud with others. But when I am in a place of “intercessory prayer” I absolutely love agreeing with God and seeing what He is up to, and how and where He is desiring to bring His kingdom. I have found that though mercy can be a burden to me, with intercession to accompany it is an exciting, whirlwind of an experience of which I have been grateful for.
In The Happy Intercessor, Beni says that you can determine whether or not you are an intercessor not by how much you pray, but by how much you desire to know God’s heart, and be in His presence. And I have found that without these things, I am a useless lady. In fact, it’s funny to me the differences between Paul and I because he will began get stir crazy without listening to sermons and podcasts every day. Sometimes when he hears a good one and wants me to listen, it can take me days and weeks to get around to it. Yes, he’s the knowledge, prophet guy around the house. But if I can’t take a deep breath and know God is with me right there, I have to find a corner or get under a blanket and ask for restoration. So anyway, if you don’t feel like you are walking in your gifts, there are ways to activate that, I’d be happy to share what I know. I would especially love to talk with any veterans ( I pull Jan Higgins and Alva Peters aside every chance I get…I sit at their feet, if you want to know). I, for one, have been blessed by the journey! I hope this helped somebody J
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Why I am not so popular anymore.
The other day I had the pleasure of spending time with one of my spiritual mothers. We were mingling with others and she sat down next to me and said nonchalantly, “You are just the sweetest girl I know.” I looked over my left shoulder to verify the fact that I was the last one seated on the couch, “Who? Me?”
“Sure, why not?”
“Hmm. I guess I’ve heard that enough in my life.”
“Oh yeah, my husband sees you all the time and says, ‘there goes sweet summer, she’s so nice to everyone.”
Huh. “Thanks then, I guess"
So for the most part, I am a nice person. And on top of that, I tend to be overly sensitive and possess a zero degree backbone. If you know me, you’ve probably never seen me angry. This has been on my mind lately because I have found that over the course of the last two years I have picked up some enemies. And it has been really damaging to my spirit because ok, we’ve affirmed, I’m basically a nice person. And even though it generally comes naturally I enjoy the perks of not really having people dislike me. I’ve been thinking about why I would have enemies, and how all of this kind of happened recently.
First of all, my enemies would probably toss around such words to describe me as hypocrite, liar, cheater, naïve, immature, and ignorant among other derogatory terms…and when I reflected upon some of these words, honestly my first reaction was to think that all of these people who do not like me are probably right. Because if you ask me, whether I am nice or not, I have come to discover that I am rather imperfect. In my opinion, the Lord is renewing me day by day and some of these things which might have been more frequent in past years are starting to disintegrate. Thank you, Lord. But sin is ever present in my life, maybe not frequent, but noticeable. And I know that because I am at a war with it. I think that when I am pinpointing the difference between a Christian and a so-called Christian it really comes down to one’s idea of sin and the place it has in a life. I hate it because I can physically feel, spiritually perceive that it has pulled me away from my Father and I cannot live like that. So while I am a sinful person, and I am going to cause hurt in people’s lives, all I can do is offer up my apologies when I fall short and ask God to refine me a bit more. Pleeeease God!
The other reason I have enemies is because I love God. That’s all there is to it. I have an opinion about something that pretty much encompasses my entire life: the way I raise my children, the way I spend my money, the way I go throughout my day, the way I plan vacation even! In my opinion, nothing should go without His opinion. When something comes against my solid foundation, I have learned not to tuck my head between my legs and weep. I’ve wanted to, yes, but I cannot let these things in life that God has called me to, to go questioned. Or to be mocked. Not as long as I have breath in my body. So I have enemies. I have enemies in my own family, friends that no longer speak to me, strangers that in passing saw something I posted on facebook and assumed I am a self righteous snob. But I have gotten to a point that the only thing that matters is God’s opinion of me, and how well I am living out His will in my life. And if that steps on some toes despite my best attempts to be loving, then I'm getting a glimpse of a little warning that Jesus gave: "the world will hate you."
One serious qualm that I have with scriptures is that just as soon as I want to pray some evil plan of justice on one of my enemies I remember that Jesus would have no such thing. And I’m going to expose right here how not-nice I am because I usually sit in that place for five minutes. I want to curse them…no, no, no, I want to bless them. But they don’t deserve it!! No, no, no, I bless them. *deep breath* I BLESS THEM! And it nearly breaks me in two. It’s not easy. But justice belongs to God and in that place of wishing He’d unleash it imminently I remember that just like He loves me, He loves my enemies. He loves them, they are unworthy. He loves me, so am I. What’s the difference?
And it really comes down to me just trusting Him. That is my life right now, learning to trust in God. I am extremely far from where I would like to be, but every time I get a little bit closer I am grateful, and I want more.
Some of my “enemies” have come to be so because they see the radical nature of my life with Paul and disapprove. Right off, we don’t really care about money. We try not to care about things. My Mom informed me of a recent conversation she passed on facebook of the upper elite class discussing their great wealth. “Well, I worked hard and God wants me to be happy and have a $700 pocket book because I wanted it.”
That’s fine. I don’t care, and I don’t even pretend that I know what God is thinking. That may absolutely be a true statement. Especially since I am incredibly, overwhelmingly wealthy just not in material things. Not wealthy in the worldly sense. And God keeps giving us more territory and we just receive it, whatever He’ll entrust to us. And so far, it hasn’t been stuff, it hasn’t been things. I don’t know why. But relationships with broken people, and opportunities to speak at church, or for me to speak at high schools, or to minister to a scared pregnant girl at the pregnancy center, or for us to have more children to steward into the Kingdom. And the more I think about it, that is all we have asked of Him. And He has been so generous.
So when I hear that we don’t have money for more children, or time, or my body won’t be up to the job, or my children will suffer for our decision, I just remember that God is in control. I trust Him. And if people don’t like me for it, or disagree with me, Ok. I keep my eyes on Him. His promises. And I remember the riches of His great love.
What else is there?
“Sure, why not?”
“Hmm. I guess I’ve heard that enough in my life.”
“Oh yeah, my husband sees you all the time and says, ‘there goes sweet summer, she’s so nice to everyone.”
Huh. “Thanks then, I guess"
So for the most part, I am a nice person. And on top of that, I tend to be overly sensitive and possess a zero degree backbone. If you know me, you’ve probably never seen me angry. This has been on my mind lately because I have found that over the course of the last two years I have picked up some enemies. And it has been really damaging to my spirit because ok, we’ve affirmed, I’m basically a nice person. And even though it generally comes naturally I enjoy the perks of not really having people dislike me. I’ve been thinking about why I would have enemies, and how all of this kind of happened recently.
First of all, my enemies would probably toss around such words to describe me as hypocrite, liar, cheater, naïve, immature, and ignorant among other derogatory terms…and when I reflected upon some of these words, honestly my first reaction was to think that all of these people who do not like me are probably right. Because if you ask me, whether I am nice or not, I have come to discover that I am rather imperfect. In my opinion, the Lord is renewing me day by day and some of these things which might have been more frequent in past years are starting to disintegrate. Thank you, Lord. But sin is ever present in my life, maybe not frequent, but noticeable. And I know that because I am at a war with it. I think that when I am pinpointing the difference between a Christian and a so-called Christian it really comes down to one’s idea of sin and the place it has in a life. I hate it because I can physically feel, spiritually perceive that it has pulled me away from my Father and I cannot live like that. So while I am a sinful person, and I am going to cause hurt in people’s lives, all I can do is offer up my apologies when I fall short and ask God to refine me a bit more. Pleeeease God!
The other reason I have enemies is because I love God. That’s all there is to it. I have an opinion about something that pretty much encompasses my entire life: the way I raise my children, the way I spend my money, the way I go throughout my day, the way I plan vacation even! In my opinion, nothing should go without His opinion. When something comes against my solid foundation, I have learned not to tuck my head between my legs and weep. I’ve wanted to, yes, but I cannot let these things in life that God has called me to, to go questioned. Or to be mocked. Not as long as I have breath in my body. So I have enemies. I have enemies in my own family, friends that no longer speak to me, strangers that in passing saw something I posted on facebook and assumed I am a self righteous snob. But I have gotten to a point that the only thing that matters is God’s opinion of me, and how well I am living out His will in my life. And if that steps on some toes despite my best attempts to be loving, then I'm getting a glimpse of a little warning that Jesus gave: "the world will hate you."
One serious qualm that I have with scriptures is that just as soon as I want to pray some evil plan of justice on one of my enemies I remember that Jesus would have no such thing. And I’m going to expose right here how not-nice I am because I usually sit in that place for five minutes. I want to curse them…no, no, no, I want to bless them. But they don’t deserve it!! No, no, no, I bless them. *deep breath* I BLESS THEM! And it nearly breaks me in two. It’s not easy. But justice belongs to God and in that place of wishing He’d unleash it imminently I remember that just like He loves me, He loves my enemies. He loves them, they are unworthy. He loves me, so am I. What’s the difference?
And it really comes down to me just trusting Him. That is my life right now, learning to trust in God. I am extremely far from where I would like to be, but every time I get a little bit closer I am grateful, and I want more.
Some of my “enemies” have come to be so because they see the radical nature of my life with Paul and disapprove. Right off, we don’t really care about money. We try not to care about things. My Mom informed me of a recent conversation she passed on facebook of the upper elite class discussing their great wealth. “Well, I worked hard and God wants me to be happy and have a $700 pocket book because I wanted it.”
That’s fine. I don’t care, and I don’t even pretend that I know what God is thinking. That may absolutely be a true statement. Especially since I am incredibly, overwhelmingly wealthy just not in material things. Not wealthy in the worldly sense. And God keeps giving us more territory and we just receive it, whatever He’ll entrust to us. And so far, it hasn’t been stuff, it hasn’t been things. I don’t know why. But relationships with broken people, and opportunities to speak at church, or for me to speak at high schools, or to minister to a scared pregnant girl at the pregnancy center, or for us to have more children to steward into the Kingdom. And the more I think about it, that is all we have asked of Him. And He has been so generous.
So when I hear that we don’t have money for more children, or time, or my body won’t be up to the job, or my children will suffer for our decision, I just remember that God is in control. I trust Him. And if people don’t like me for it, or disagree with me, Ok. I keep my eyes on Him. His promises. And I remember the riches of His great love.
What else is there?
Thursday, March 1, 2012
No wonder I've been feeling so rotten!
If you read my blogs you know that I’ve been in somewhat of a frenzy about my health. I haven’t been feeling well is the simplest way to put it. Weeks ago I lay my head on Paul’s chest and cried, “I just cannot seem to wake up.” And as everything was pointing to pregnancy, the tests I took resounded, you just need to give this up.
The Pregnancy Center is my favorite place to be these days. I love the people there. Real, genuine, loving people that just cannot be denied hugs, praise, and all of my affection. They have been in prayer for me as my health has been up and down. They’ve prayed for me as I’ve confessed my desire for a little one. On Tuesday we had an open time slot in our day and I was chatting with our clinic nurse who has become so dear to me. One of the weird symptoms I’ve experienced is not having a period. That usually indicates a little something, but as I said, tests had been negative. So our clinic nurse suggested that I take a pregnancy test. It had been three weeks since I'd taken one, so why not?
I was scared to be disappointed again, but when a second pink line appeared I fell to my knees on that bathroom floor. It was a clean bathroom, but I would have bowed before my good Daddy in a pile of manure (maybe…ok, yes I would have!).
The coolest thing ever was 5 minutes after a positive test I got to have an ultrasound. It was an incredibly surreal experience, I have to say. To barely have the news sink in, news that I would have probably sworn was not so, and then to see a heartbeat. Never have I had my breath so quickly taken. And then to find out that our new addition didn’t just happen overnight, baby has been waiting to be discovered for 7 weeks! Yes, I am almost 2 months into this pregnancy and I had no idea. No wonder I can’t stay awake, what a blessed reason!
The ladies and I schemed over how to let Paul in on the new news and we could only come up with one thing, letting him see the ultrasound himself. So when he came to pick me up from the Pregnancy Center (after his first day at work I might add) I ran up to the parking lot. Can you guess Paul’s reaction? I’m talking right away..
Paul: “We need to go, get in the car. Where‘s your stuff?”
Me: “Can you park?”
Paul: “For what? Get your stuff we have to get the kids”
Me: “Would you just park?”
Paul: “Ugggrrrh, okkk…why?” *parks unwillingly*
Me: *holds up ultrasound picture* “I want you to meet your baby!”
Paul: “YOU’RE PREGNANT??!”
And then joy abounded. Five minutes later, I wrapped up the day as the final ultrasound client and Paul got to see the heart beating. How cool is that? It was a magical day!
I know that was a lot of words, and a long ‘ol story but all that to say, I’M PREGNANT! And that means the entire time I’ve been writing my sappy blogs saying how I wish God would bless me with a baby. And all the times I cried out to Him that He would give me peace about not having a baby, well I already had one. We are just so blown away at God’s goodness and faithfulness. Thank you God for the miracle of LIFE! I am tempted to name this baby Joy because this little one has flooded our hearts with such gladness and gratitude, we are just plain thrilled. What a blessing.
YEAH!!!! I decided to go ahead and share so my friends could be praying for a normal, healthy pregnancy….the news it still sinking in on this end and sometimes it doesn’t feel real, especially since I haven't had any morning sickness. Yippee, what a blessing! Thanks in advance J Here is our peanut:
The Pregnancy Center is my favorite place to be these days. I love the people there. Real, genuine, loving people that just cannot be denied hugs, praise, and all of my affection. They have been in prayer for me as my health has been up and down. They’ve prayed for me as I’ve confessed my desire for a little one. On Tuesday we had an open time slot in our day and I was chatting with our clinic nurse who has become so dear to me. One of the weird symptoms I’ve experienced is not having a period. That usually indicates a little something, but as I said, tests had been negative. So our clinic nurse suggested that I take a pregnancy test. It had been three weeks since I'd taken one, so why not?
I was scared to be disappointed again, but when a second pink line appeared I fell to my knees on that bathroom floor. It was a clean bathroom, but I would have bowed before my good Daddy in a pile of manure (maybe…ok, yes I would have!).
The coolest thing ever was 5 minutes after a positive test I got to have an ultrasound. It was an incredibly surreal experience, I have to say. To barely have the news sink in, news that I would have probably sworn was not so, and then to see a heartbeat. Never have I had my breath so quickly taken. And then to find out that our new addition didn’t just happen overnight, baby has been waiting to be discovered for 7 weeks! Yes, I am almost 2 months into this pregnancy and I had no idea. No wonder I can’t stay awake, what a blessed reason!
The ladies and I schemed over how to let Paul in on the new news and we could only come up with one thing, letting him see the ultrasound himself. So when he came to pick me up from the Pregnancy Center (after his first day at work I might add) I ran up to the parking lot. Can you guess Paul’s reaction? I’m talking right away..
Paul: “We need to go, get in the car. Where‘s your stuff?”
Me: “Can you park?”
Paul: “For what? Get your stuff we have to get the kids”
Me: “Would you just park?”
Paul: “Ugggrrrh, okkk…why?” *parks unwillingly*
Me: *holds up ultrasound picture* “I want you to meet your baby!”
Paul: “YOU’RE PREGNANT??!”
And then joy abounded. Five minutes later, I wrapped up the day as the final ultrasound client and Paul got to see the heart beating. How cool is that? It was a magical day!
I know that was a lot of words, and a long ‘ol story but all that to say, I’M PREGNANT! And that means the entire time I’ve been writing my sappy blogs saying how I wish God would bless me with a baby. And all the times I cried out to Him that He would give me peace about not having a baby, well I already had one. We are just so blown away at God’s goodness and faithfulness. Thank you God for the miracle of LIFE! I am tempted to name this baby Joy because this little one has flooded our hearts with such gladness and gratitude, we are just plain thrilled. What a blessing.
YEAH!!!! I decided to go ahead and share so my friends could be praying for a normal, healthy pregnancy….the news it still sinking in on this end and sometimes it doesn’t feel real, especially since I haven't had any morning sickness. Yippee, what a blessing! Thanks in advance J Here is our peanut:
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