I need to put dishes away in the dishwasher. I also have about ten shirts on my living room chair to be folded. My kids shouldn’t be needy for attention because mom and dad have been around all morning, but as soon as I sit down at this computer chair, they congregate around me as if I’m doing something radically cooler than they are. Which I am, watching Shrek 2 on the touchpad for the umpteenth time is exhausting, for me anyway. But I can’t seem to just go about my chores without writing some musings on my part.
I mentioned in a recent blog that Paul has applied for school at Bethel’s School of Supernatural Ministry. I am not sure what that means for us. I probably shouldn’t be in a state of confusion since we haven’t even heard back yet (we are waiting on one more reference!), but I can’t help but to want to scheme.
I think everyone will relate when I say that as Paul and I were courting, he was always dreaming. He wanted to be a pastor, and a writer, and a teacher, and I was in full support of every ambition because I knew he had what it would take. But somewhere along the lines of being a young, married couple with children we found ourselves in survival mode. And since then mommy has moved into frustrated mode because I dreamed too, and I am not big on survival mode. I am big on getting things done mode. Maybe it has to do with my “pull yourself up by the boot straps” southern mentality, married to Paul’s Californian “just take a day on the beach to cool off” mentality when the going gets tough. Not that Paul doesn’t have ambition, let me quote one of his regulars, “I am almost thirty, that is plenty of time to do whatever I want to do!” I am sorry to all of you post thirty, but thirty does not sound young to me. Thirty was the age that I planned on having four doctorates and four kids by. Anyway, as iron sharpens iron, I think it is safe to say that I have chilled out significantly, and Paul is more and more convinced that if he has a dream, there is no time like the present.
So for the last two years especially, I have been sort of tapping my fingers against the kitchen table at dinnertime asking him, “ok, so when do you think you’ll go to school?” and it’s been hard because his only answer is something vague like, “it doesn’t feel like the right time to me.” And maybe it wasn’t the right time, but I don’t care to look at timing, I just want to do something. Recently Paul and I had what I like to call a “come to Jesus moment.” God has miraculously provided for our every need, we are so blessed. I have to say, I am extremely happy where we are at in terms of “life as we know it.” But dreaming complicates things. I got to this point where I saw life around me, and it looked too normal. Daddy’s working, paying the bills. Mommy’s raising kids. We are sort of settled. Shouldn’t we be doing something at this point?
This is all pretty humorous to me because when I married Paul I had every intention of staying in my hometown where I was born and raised for the rest of my life and being happy there. Paul would talk about going to see Europe and Israel and Africa, and I would think, “what’s the point?” He would tell me that he could tell I was an adventurous person, and I would laugh at him. I am the most normal, homebody person that you will ever meet! But something switched on as we drove through 14 states to move to California. I loved every second of it, and now my heart craves MORE, MORE! So I approached Paul about possibly moving. We’re too settled now…let’s do something wild! Didn’t we have dreams at some point? And Paul said that he has been sort of thinking about going to Bethel School of Supernatural Ministry, and I wholeheartedly agreed that we should move right away. Not just because I am hungry for a change, and hungry to learn more about the heart of God, but I have been desperately wanting to see my husband’s heart stirred for something big, and for the first time, I see it!
I decided to write because the other day, all of my haughty ambitions were kind of shattered by reality. I looked around at my darling cabin. We are super happy here. Paul mentioned one more time, “I love my job here.” Paul actually sort of likes what he does. Paul glanced at our bank account, “seriously, you can not spend anything this week if we want to stay on top." We are still somehow in survival mode. So it finally occurred to me as I was rocking my daughter to sleep in our quaint, country bedroom, Have we lost our minds? We are happy here. We are doing ok. Our kids are happy here. We are unbelievably happy with our church. We love our friends. Have we lost our minds?
I honestly don’t know. All of the sudden the prospect of moving to a new place in two months, though we have no where to live yet, is frightening. Paying for a tuition in which we do not even have half the payment in the bank seems irresponsible. Transferring to another Starbucks, even though Paul is happy where he is at, is daunting. I failed to mention that school will be in full swing in September and I have a baby due the first two weeks in October. And I know two families in Redding at this point. Neither of them know my kids. So yes, though I have been bouncing around in joyful anticipation of an acceptance letter, and running on pure adrenaline, I definitely started to talk to my worldly frame of mind about all of this and started feeling a little crazy.
So I wanted to blog. I wanted to write this down because that is how testimonies work. I write what I need for something to happen, and I watch God perform miracles in His will. Then I have it here, what I once needed, and what God provided.
So if Paul gets accepted and we decide to move our entire lives to Redding, several things have to happen. We have to have the money to go. Not just money to attend school, but extra in the bank so we can survive on a part time income. We have to have a place to live where we can afford, that is not in the drug/crime scene preferably. A successful transfer from one Starbucks to another has to happen. Once we get there, we have to make friends, and fast. Maybe not something that you can plan, but we have to make it happen since we soon have a baby arriving. Every single step along the way has to be a divine appointment. So yes, I am starting to feel stress. I am fighting that word worry with every bone in my body because that is definitely not the way to handle the future in the Kingdom of God.
The wisdom of others in our life is to “just wait.” Wait until we’re more settled, wait until we have more money saved up, it’s only another year. It feels like we’ve been waiting our entire marriage to do something that paves the way to the sort of future we know God is calling us to. Maybe another year won’t hurt. But I can’t help but to feel like another year would be torture.
So here we are, waiting to hear back from the school. I am praying that our last reference gets in today because waiting for an answer from the school is stressing me out. Looking at houses on Craig list on a daily basis is stressing me out. Not knowing the future is stressing me out.
Still, when I go to the source of who started all of this stirring, my great and powerful God, the still, small voice says over every Craig list ad, “I will open every door for you. I will open every door for you.” How? I got home several days ago and saw hundreds of spider webs strung from post to post in the most obscure designs. It was just strange to see so many, and the Lord spoke to me, “What do you see here?” And I thought to myself how everything was somehow connected, though it seemed so far apart. “Networking,” He answered. I’m kind of tucking all of these words away into my journal and blog so I remember who is orchestrating all of this, who will have to orchestrate this whole endeavor for it to happen. Here is what that looks like:
God, I trust you! That wasn’t so difficult was it?
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
His Extravagant Love
I am a busy mom. There is no doubt about that. Paul and I were just commenting on how we are moving into a season where parenting is easier (in that our children are more independent), but also how this season is more difficult. Somehow we have timed our children’s spacing so specifically that we have one child in the “what’s that?” phase, and the other in the “why?” phase. I answer about 75 of these questions a piece during one trip to the grocery store. If you don’t believe me, you are welcome to watch my kids the next time I go to the grocery store, and get a taste of it in your own home. Yeah, I didn’t think so…
But for some reason, despite the fact that I have been busy every since I had two children instead of one, I began to desire another baby. I hungered for one in the depths of my soul, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. You can ask Paul, I probably spent over $100 on pregnancy tests, and we only shop at the Dollar Tree. I would ask the Holy Spirit to tell me if I was pregnant or not to save on money, but somehow I just couldn’t get away from the desire that I wanted one. January 28th, 2012 I sat on my couch and cried. My kids were sleeping, Daddy was away doing something, and I was asking God why it wasn’t the right time for a baby. He took me to Matthew 7, the scripture about asking and receiving. And I cried because I had already asked him about 1000 times. And I didn’t even need to, He knew my heart. But nevertheless, I asked him for a baby and He said to me, “Summer, let’s get you off the battlefield first.” And it was a good word, because if you read back through my blogs from January I was a sick person. I still don’t know what was going on, but there was a nagging feeling in my spirit that I was going to die. I was battling fear over this thing that was happening in my body. I had just switched to Options Counseling at the Pregnancy Center, and the second week in January I had visited Summerville high school and spoke on the value of purity. God wasn’t kidding, I was doing more ministry than I had ever been involved in. God was giving me more and more territory. My health was shaky, and I seriously pinpoint my healing to a conference I went to where a pastor prayed against witchcraft attacking me! But I didn’t care, I wanted a baby.
I was reading Kris Vallotan’s “Supernatural Ways of Royalty” and he talks about how friendship with God sometimes means questioning God‘s words to us. He tells the story of God telling Abraham that He will destroy Sodom, and Abraham says something along the lines of, “what if there are righteous people there? You wouldn’t destroy righteous people, would you?” and the Scripture goes on to say that Abraham changed God’s mind. That is really cool, I think. Still, when I read the text I thought, “what kind of idiot would disagree with God?” Then I remembered how I ended up with this pregnancy. God told me “not just yet,” and I said, “please say yes….” As someone who believes that every single child is handcrafted by our Savior, I know that God honored my request.
Whenever Paul and I were praying for names (ok, Paul doesn’t care to have every single little detail figured out in the first few weeks, but I DO), and I couldn’t think of a name for a boy. I dreamed last year that I had a little girl named Corie. We’ve known all along she would be Corie if we had a girl. But I wanted a boy name. The Lord took me to the story of the wedding at Cana where Jesus did His first miracle. I love that story. Because when Mary tells Jesus that He should do something about the wine, He answers her, ‘You know it isn’t my time yet!” But I can see Jesus just sighing. Thinking about how much He loves us, His friends. And even though all of the wine is gone, meaning people have already had their fill, He still changes the water to wine. Jesus made the best too, even though in that culture the better wine would be served first, and the cheaper wine later so that people wouldn’t notice the inferior wine as much. Let’s remember at this point, the wine was already gone! When I read that passage considering my baby, I knew why God allowed me to get pregnant. Because it may not have been the right time, but He knew my heart. Best of all, He loves me. The whole story of the wedding at Cana, to me, represents the extravagant love of Jesus. And that is the same feeling I have about this pregnancy. God has confirmed it to me so many times, not just because I am so grateful that I get to have this baby, but because my baby was the ultrasound for the Pregnancy Center Gala, where the theme was, “Extravagant Love.” I didn’t even know that until I sat down to have my dinner!
God’s love for us is so amazing. So the news is out on face book, but let me be the first to reiterate that I am so happy to have another girl. I love having baby girls. I am the worst person in the world to have as many children as God will allow me because waiting nine months seems like eternity. I wish I had the little nugget in my arms right now! I dream of wrapping her up in a handmade receiving blanket and kissing the tip of her nose. And pressing my finger into the palm of her hand so she’ll embrace it the way every baby does. I love kissing toes and smelling fuzzy hair, and nursing a sweet little mouth. But I keep telling Jake, who asks me every day how soon we will get to meet the baby, “We just gotta get through the summer, then she’ll be here.” Then he asks what the summer is, and we talk about months of the year, seasons, then weather….ugh, it’s exhausting trying to explain a simple sentence to a four year old. But in my heart I embrace the truth. As the summer draws to a close and makes the much welcomed shift to a cooler season of changing leaves, hickory smoke tainted air from those of us who have to prepare our wood stoves, and a hint of all things pumpkin, spiced, and everything nice in the home of every homemaker that I know, something big will be changing in my home. We will be preparing to welcome a third child into our family. Corie, you are a treasure already. As much as I adore about the Fall, your arrival is by far the most anticipated!
We love you. We love you. We love you. And we praise God, the glorious creator of babies that He chose us to steward you! Thinking of you just makes me want to relish in the fullness of His extravagant love.
Just to add, I have the above mentioned conversation with God recorded in my prayer journal. Always a good idea. My prayer at the end of the entry was not, “Give me a baby or else!” No, it was, “God, I want Your will, I am willing. I trust you.” I am not particularly good at questioning God. But Kris Valloton talks about how God wouldn’t have given us a brain if He didn’t want us to be our own person, have our own wills. Part of being a Christian is having our minds renewed so we want the same things as God, but I was amazed at how many scriptures he presented about prophets who simply asked God if they could do things differently. And God was on board! Being friends with God is not about commanding Him to give us what we want. Being friends with God is about loving Him, and understanding His love for us. And being confident enough in that relationship with Him to walk in His graciousness and goodness. I hadn’t even had this revelation yet, and I am glad that I was stubborn enough to understand a piece of it.
Now if you’ll excuse me, my kids are covering my imaginary “ouchies” with stickers that are not so imaginary. That requires some concentration, I think.
But for some reason, despite the fact that I have been busy every since I had two children instead of one, I began to desire another baby. I hungered for one in the depths of my soul, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. You can ask Paul, I probably spent over $100 on pregnancy tests, and we only shop at the Dollar Tree. I would ask the Holy Spirit to tell me if I was pregnant or not to save on money, but somehow I just couldn’t get away from the desire that I wanted one. January 28th, 2012 I sat on my couch and cried. My kids were sleeping, Daddy was away doing something, and I was asking God why it wasn’t the right time for a baby. He took me to Matthew 7, the scripture about asking and receiving. And I cried because I had already asked him about 1000 times. And I didn’t even need to, He knew my heart. But nevertheless, I asked him for a baby and He said to me, “Summer, let’s get you off the battlefield first.” And it was a good word, because if you read back through my blogs from January I was a sick person. I still don’t know what was going on, but there was a nagging feeling in my spirit that I was going to die. I was battling fear over this thing that was happening in my body. I had just switched to Options Counseling at the Pregnancy Center, and the second week in January I had visited Summerville high school and spoke on the value of purity. God wasn’t kidding, I was doing more ministry than I had ever been involved in. God was giving me more and more territory. My health was shaky, and I seriously pinpoint my healing to a conference I went to where a pastor prayed against witchcraft attacking me! But I didn’t care, I wanted a baby.
I was reading Kris Vallotan’s “Supernatural Ways of Royalty” and he talks about how friendship with God sometimes means questioning God‘s words to us. He tells the story of God telling Abraham that He will destroy Sodom, and Abraham says something along the lines of, “what if there are righteous people there? You wouldn’t destroy righteous people, would you?” and the Scripture goes on to say that Abraham changed God’s mind. That is really cool, I think. Still, when I read the text I thought, “what kind of idiot would disagree with God?” Then I remembered how I ended up with this pregnancy. God told me “not just yet,” and I said, “please say yes….” As someone who believes that every single child is handcrafted by our Savior, I know that God honored my request.
Whenever Paul and I were praying for names (ok, Paul doesn’t care to have every single little detail figured out in the first few weeks, but I DO), and I couldn’t think of a name for a boy. I dreamed last year that I had a little girl named Corie. We’ve known all along she would be Corie if we had a girl. But I wanted a boy name. The Lord took me to the story of the wedding at Cana where Jesus did His first miracle. I love that story. Because when Mary tells Jesus that He should do something about the wine, He answers her, ‘You know it isn’t my time yet!” But I can see Jesus just sighing. Thinking about how much He loves us, His friends. And even though all of the wine is gone, meaning people have already had their fill, He still changes the water to wine. Jesus made the best too, even though in that culture the better wine would be served first, and the cheaper wine later so that people wouldn’t notice the inferior wine as much. Let’s remember at this point, the wine was already gone! When I read that passage considering my baby, I knew why God allowed me to get pregnant. Because it may not have been the right time, but He knew my heart. Best of all, He loves me. The whole story of the wedding at Cana, to me, represents the extravagant love of Jesus. And that is the same feeling I have about this pregnancy. God has confirmed it to me so many times, not just because I am so grateful that I get to have this baby, but because my baby was the ultrasound for the Pregnancy Center Gala, where the theme was, “Extravagant Love.” I didn’t even know that until I sat down to have my dinner!
God’s love for us is so amazing. So the news is out on face book, but let me be the first to reiterate that I am so happy to have another girl. I love having baby girls. I am the worst person in the world to have as many children as God will allow me because waiting nine months seems like eternity. I wish I had the little nugget in my arms right now! I dream of wrapping her up in a handmade receiving blanket and kissing the tip of her nose. And pressing my finger into the palm of her hand so she’ll embrace it the way every baby does. I love kissing toes and smelling fuzzy hair, and nursing a sweet little mouth. But I keep telling Jake, who asks me every day how soon we will get to meet the baby, “We just gotta get through the summer, then she’ll be here.” Then he asks what the summer is, and we talk about months of the year, seasons, then weather….ugh, it’s exhausting trying to explain a simple sentence to a four year old. But in my heart I embrace the truth. As the summer draws to a close and makes the much welcomed shift to a cooler season of changing leaves, hickory smoke tainted air from those of us who have to prepare our wood stoves, and a hint of all things pumpkin, spiced, and everything nice in the home of every homemaker that I know, something big will be changing in my home. We will be preparing to welcome a third child into our family. Corie, you are a treasure already. As much as I adore about the Fall, your arrival is by far the most anticipated!
We love you. We love you. We love you. And we praise God, the glorious creator of babies that He chose us to steward you! Thinking of you just makes me want to relish in the fullness of His extravagant love.
Just to add, I have the above mentioned conversation with God recorded in my prayer journal. Always a good idea. My prayer at the end of the entry was not, “Give me a baby or else!” No, it was, “God, I want Your will, I am willing. I trust you.” I am not particularly good at questioning God. But Kris Valloton talks about how God wouldn’t have given us a brain if He didn’t want us to be our own person, have our own wills. Part of being a Christian is having our minds renewed so we want the same things as God, but I was amazed at how many scriptures he presented about prophets who simply asked God if they could do things differently. And God was on board! Being friends with God is not about commanding Him to give us what we want. Being friends with God is about loving Him, and understanding His love for us. And being confident enough in that relationship with Him to walk in His graciousness and goodness. I hadn’t even had this revelation yet, and I am glad that I was stubborn enough to understand a piece of it.
Now if you’ll excuse me, my kids are covering my imaginary “ouchies” with stickers that are not so imaginary. That requires some concentration, I think.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
My Baby is a Two Year Old!
My Mom likes to say that I was “good in school.” I guess that is partly true. I did well and I enjoyed it, for the most part. Still, there was that lingering feeling in my spirit that I wasn’t quite as smart as the really smart girls. And I desperately wanted to be. I was consistently top 15 with my GPA, second runner up for Governor’s School, contestant for “Ms. Senior,” runner up in the “Miss Mt. Pleasant Pageant,” but I could never quite get over the threshold for what it was going to take to earn those top honors. I am ok with who I am now. I have accepted it. Sort of like when I got my SAT results back and realized I missed 10 in a row. Could have happened. More than likely I skipped a row of bubbles. I have a millions stories like this. Where my brain just couldn’t cut it, not because I am dumb near as much as I am flighty. Or forgetful is a bit more flattering. Easily distracted? I don’t know, but while I did well in school, I wouldn’t call the atmosphere my “forte.” I wanted to preface with that point because being all of these things has its perks. Like when you fly across the country to visit family and realize that you forgot to have your birth control refilled. I actually sat down with pen and paper to calculate weeks, and distinctly remember deciding not to fill my birth control until I got back because I thought I had one more week of pills left, plus the placebo week. Surprise.
I finished my placebo pills only to notice that my pack was crackly and bare. So I told Paul, who suggested that I call my pharmacy in California and have them transfer my prescription to North Carolina, to some nearby pharmacy. Did I mention we were at the beach? Not only that, but my insurance wouldn’t be accepted there so I’d have to pay out of pocket. The one time I sat down to call, I remembered I was dealing with a time difference. What a pain. I’m trying to remember what Paul said, but it was something along the lines of, “what’s the worst that could happen if we wait until we get back to California?” I hate when people say that pregnancy is the worst thing that can happen, that‘s certainly not what my husband meant! So yes, I returned home and started on my birth control. But my period didn’t come when it was time for those placebo pills. Thank the Lord Sonora Grace was meant to be and I didn’t end my pregnancy with those hormones! I thank the Lord a lot when it comes to Sonora because in every way, shape and form we look at her and know she was meant to be with us.
Today she is two years old. Woah. That totally blows my mind. Life with her has been a challenge, and with all great challenges come tremendous blessing I have found. So has been the case with her. She is an angelic toddler, beaming with life and joy. When she is laughing, our entire household stops to listen and watch. And then we join in because she is contagious. Just the same, when she is in a bad mood, we all know about it and feel it to the core. Our home resonates with the shriek of a malcontented child, and no one can go along merrily doing what they were doing before. Overall, she is the most charming, sweet natured, joy filled thing that I have ever known.
When I got pregnant with Sonora Grace, we were living with Paul’s parents. We had very little to our name, and even less promise in the California economy. By all accounts, we had no business having a baby. Paul had a job, but it wasn’t a steady one in that we were never sure how many hours he would get week to week. Our next step was to find a rental, and the only way we could afford to do so was to have a very manly roommate living upstairs sharing expenses (we miss you, Uncle Christoph!). Did I mention that we had no business having a child? But that is if you are looking through a very worldly lens because the truth is, God never left our side during the process. Even through a sickly first trimester, a cold winter where I told our local clothing closet “please set aside maternity clothes for me to wear, I am freezing and my clothes don’t fit!,” and I shook Paul when I was hungry with, “we have to have more money so I can buy FOOD that I want to eat!” but we did not die. In fact, I was healthy, and after a grueling, yet short birth where I cried out, “God, why don’t you love me?” (because it was so incredibly painful)….I found relief the minute that little girl was placed in my arms. Like birth, the news of Sonora came at a time that labor pains of life had caught up with us, threatened to topple our fragile ship into a blustery ocean, and just like when that little bundle was placed in my arms, we entered a season of relief soon after. Because God took care of us.
Paul and I live on very little income. I think most people would be surprised to know what we actually live on….in fact, I pretty much try to stay in the dark so I don’t have to hyperventilate. We made a decision about the time that Sonora was born that we were either going to put our faith in man or God. Of course, as we progressed with a pregnancy that we didn’t exactly plan the decision was sort of made for us. But we’ve stuck with it. Now, I have to say, other than occasionally worrying, I am used to this way of life. I love it. Watching Sonora as she enters into a giggle fit confirms all that I need to know: this is worth it. My ugly couch, tiny house, store brand food, sharing one vehicle as one goes on the fritz, or shouting a message at my husband out a car window as we’re driving down the road because only one of us has a cell phone and a message needs to be conveyed…it’s so worth it. Having babies even when we’re at our worst is worth it to me. It is a personal choice. I respect when others close to me choose the path of waiting so that they will be more prepared. For some reason, that path continues to slap me in the face. And I will gladly turn the other cheek because I am so addicted to this life. I am so in love with that little girl who came at a time that we probably shouldn’t have been bringing children into the world. But God knew better.
Sonora Grace, you have added more to our lives than I can even explain! I am terrified to raise you, as each time you look up at me with those bouncy curly cues, and that smile that is so big it makes your big black eyes go squinty I wonder if there is anything I will deny you! There isn’t! The Lord spoke to me a couple of months ago and said that right now my destiny is to leave a spiritual inheritance for my children. That is my highest goal in this life, to do that for you and your brother and the little one on the way. I am so blown away that at two years old you are already filled to the BRIM, absolutely overflowing with giftings from above. You are an anointed young one. I am so blown away at the sweet natured, thoughtful, smart, introspective, precious, absolutely precious little girl that you have become. Remember, “I’d rather have you than a million dollars.” And if I start to forget, just smile for me, my “goober girl,” I choose God’s economy more than the world’s any day.
 |
| The week Sonora was conceived...I knew everyone would be curious ;) |
I finished my placebo pills only to notice that my pack was crackly and bare. So I told Paul, who suggested that I call my pharmacy in California and have them transfer my prescription to North Carolina, to some nearby pharmacy. Did I mention we were at the beach? Not only that, but my insurance wouldn’t be accepted there so I’d have to pay out of pocket. The one time I sat down to call, I remembered I was dealing with a time difference. What a pain. I’m trying to remember what Paul said, but it was something along the lines of, “what’s the worst that could happen if we wait until we get back to California?” I hate when people say that pregnancy is the worst thing that can happen, that‘s certainly not what my husband meant! So yes, I returned home and started on my birth control. But my period didn’t come when it was time for those placebo pills. Thank the Lord Sonora Grace was meant to be and I didn’t end my pregnancy with those hormones! I thank the Lord a lot when it comes to Sonora because in every way, shape and form we look at her and know she was meant to be with us.
Today she is two years old. Woah. That totally blows my mind. Life with her has been a challenge, and with all great challenges come tremendous blessing I have found. So has been the case with her. She is an angelic toddler, beaming with life and joy. When she is laughing, our entire household stops to listen and watch. And then we join in because she is contagious. Just the same, when she is in a bad mood, we all know about it and feel it to the core. Our home resonates with the shriek of a malcontented child, and no one can go along merrily doing what they were doing before. Overall, she is the most charming, sweet natured, joy filled thing that I have ever known.
When I got pregnant with Sonora Grace, we were living with Paul’s parents. We had very little to our name, and even less promise in the California economy. By all accounts, we had no business having a baby. Paul had a job, but it wasn’t a steady one in that we were never sure how many hours he would get week to week. Our next step was to find a rental, and the only way we could afford to do so was to have a very manly roommate living upstairs sharing expenses (we miss you, Uncle Christoph!). Did I mention that we had no business having a child? But that is if you are looking through a very worldly lens because the truth is, God never left our side during the process. Even through a sickly first trimester, a cold winter where I told our local clothing closet “please set aside maternity clothes for me to wear, I am freezing and my clothes don’t fit!,” and I shook Paul when I was hungry with, “we have to have more money so I can buy FOOD that I want to eat!” but we did not die. In fact, I was healthy, and after a grueling, yet short birth where I cried out, “God, why don’t you love me?” (because it was so incredibly painful)….I found relief the minute that little girl was placed in my arms. Like birth, the news of Sonora came at a time that labor pains of life had caught up with us, threatened to topple our fragile ship into a blustery ocean, and just like when that little bundle was placed in my arms, we entered a season of relief soon after. Because God took care of us.
Paul and I live on very little income. I think most people would be surprised to know what we actually live on….in fact, I pretty much try to stay in the dark so I don’t have to hyperventilate. We made a decision about the time that Sonora was born that we were either going to put our faith in man or God. Of course, as we progressed with a pregnancy that we didn’t exactly plan the decision was sort of made for us. But we’ve stuck with it. Now, I have to say, other than occasionally worrying, I am used to this way of life. I love it. Watching Sonora as she enters into a giggle fit confirms all that I need to know: this is worth it. My ugly couch, tiny house, store brand food, sharing one vehicle as one goes on the fritz, or shouting a message at my husband out a car window as we’re driving down the road because only one of us has a cell phone and a message needs to be conveyed…it’s so worth it. Having babies even when we’re at our worst is worth it to me. It is a personal choice. I respect when others close to me choose the path of waiting so that they will be more prepared. For some reason, that path continues to slap me in the face. And I will gladly turn the other cheek because I am so addicted to this life. I am so in love with that little girl who came at a time that we probably shouldn’t have been bringing children into the world. But God knew better.
Sonora Grace, you have added more to our lives than I can even explain! I am terrified to raise you, as each time you look up at me with those bouncy curly cues, and that smile that is so big it makes your big black eyes go squinty I wonder if there is anything I will deny you! There isn’t! The Lord spoke to me a couple of months ago and said that right now my destiny is to leave a spiritual inheritance for my children. That is my highest goal in this life, to do that for you and your brother and the little one on the way. I am so blown away that at two years old you are already filled to the BRIM, absolutely overflowing with giftings from above. You are an anointed young one. I am so blown away at the sweet natured, thoughtful, smart, introspective, precious, absolutely precious little girl that you have become. Remember, “I’d rather have you than a million dollars.” And if I start to forget, just smile for me, my “goober girl,” I choose God’s economy more than the world’s any day.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
God's Will
It is really easy for me to feel talent-less. Probably because I spend a lot of time comparing myself to others that I consider to be blessed, and I look at myself and wonder where God went wrong.
Why can’t I play music? Why can’t I sing? Why can’t I paint? Why can’t I take a decent picture? How come I don’t like reading novels?
All of these thoughts swirl around in a mass of confusion that has just become my mommy brain, and I deduct quite easily, I must be an idiot.
“God’s will” is one of my favorite concepts but I can’t say that I ever quite understand what on earth it means. For me, that is. I can look at my husband and know exactly what he was put on this earth to do. It’s a no-brainer kind of thing. You probably know what he’s supposed to do with his life too, it’s really not that difficult. But for me, I just never know. I am finding things that I enjoy, like sewing, baking, cooking, raising babies, and the homemaking likes. Still, what do I really enjoy? Well I have to ask that question because I’m pretty sure that I’ve heard God’s will lies in who you are, what you like to do, and what the world needs. There is some fancy quote that ties up that point nicely, but I don’t have time to google it. My bedtime is in 30 minutes. I have been in careful contemplation today. Because my husband did something really big last week. He applied to a Bible school. This is something I have been begging him to do for years. Yes, I know we have barely any money. And we have children coming out of our ears, growing in my womb, family all over the map, and I guess my point is: we have nothing figured out. It’s funny how that is when God usually stirs us towards new things. Uh, shouldn’t we be settled first? He wants us to move to a place of not knowing. So we can trust Him even more, that’s my best guess. I do, I am totally down with doing whatever He has for us. There is that money thing though and I look around me at Mommies doing their business things and I am happy for them, but definitely a little envious. I watched my talented sister in law raise money for her and Andrew’s Africa trip, and now that my husband wishes to embark on something new and God ordained I feel this rush of energy in the core of my being. I CAN help make this happen for him!! I can do it!! I can do something that is worth monetary gain! I can!!
Like…uhhh….umm….hmmmm…such as,….hmmm….*random mannerism I do as I think*
…hmmm. Let’s see…uhhhh….What the heck am I good at?
You see my dilemma, I believe. So I have been in need of vision here, that is the plot of this blog. It occurred to me earlier as I thought about what I want to do with my life that when I think about the things I enjoy when I am not being mom or wife or friend, I am just being ME, my life always seems to lead me right back here to this keyboard. To my blog. To my feelings poured out on paper, and my thoughts spilled out into the open so they don’t excite me before I sleep. In the afternoons, when I can barely keep my eyes open I look at the couch and day dream what it might be like to nap. I make time for naps every day. But somehow I regularly opt for something hot to drink, and I’m pulled up in a chair in front of our laptop. Because this is what I love, I am convinced that somehow writing is what I am meant to do.
I have written a children’s book, but I can’t afford to get it published just yet. I am halfway finished with two different novels. I love to write narratives, but just cannot find the time or inspiration to give them what they deserve. One day. But for now, I love this blog. I love doing this and so I pitched upgrading my blog to my own domain name today and my husband agreed. He said yes! So this evening has been one of great dreams, and an ambition the size of Jupiter. What should I call my blog? Should it be about my family, or my faith, or just whatever happens to be on my mind? I just can’t say. I am excited at what God is stirring in my heart.
And yes, all of this scheming was jumpstarted because I want to help my husband make ends meet in this drab economy. I want to one day turn an income. There is my dream. Don’t laugh at me. But more than anything, I want to continue doing something that exercises my soul. I want to be heard. I want to help others in their struggles to understand themselves, their marriages, and family, and even God. Because I am on a journey too and believe it or not, I’ve somehow been where you are or I’m probably going there one day. I hope you’re not laughing at me. Did I say that already? Truthfully, to God’s credit alone, I have had probably 60 messages on face book since I started my blog. People who I do not even keep in touch with have written me to tell me that my blog touched them. And even though I look at myself in the mirror and yes, I think idiot, the feedback I have gotten from this measly little blog has to mean something.
I don’t know why people are touched by what I say. My nearest guess is that I am a real person (or God, I hope I am!). I do try to be edifying, or encouraging, or at least share what the Lord has been teaching me in different areas. Maybe I do an idiotic job at it. *sigh*
Trying to be encouraging here. This is wild for me. So go do something that’s wild for you too! There, I said it. I heard a really great message one time on how sometimes we’re afraid to pick apples because if they fall on the ground, they are no good anymore. But we shouldn’t be afraid because there is never a second that God won’t use our failed attempts for something. Even if it becomes an apple for someone else, or fertilizer for the ground. Your apples are going to fall from the tree. Who cares? The trees are full of ‘em. Let’s get busy gathering, the Christian life is anything but ordinary.
What do you want to do?
Why can’t I play music? Why can’t I sing? Why can’t I paint? Why can’t I take a decent picture? How come I don’t like reading novels?
All of these thoughts swirl around in a mass of confusion that has just become my mommy brain, and I deduct quite easily, I must be an idiot.
“God’s will” is one of my favorite concepts but I can’t say that I ever quite understand what on earth it means. For me, that is. I can look at my husband and know exactly what he was put on this earth to do. It’s a no-brainer kind of thing. You probably know what he’s supposed to do with his life too, it’s really not that difficult. But for me, I just never know. I am finding things that I enjoy, like sewing, baking, cooking, raising babies, and the homemaking likes. Still, what do I really enjoy? Well I have to ask that question because I’m pretty sure that I’ve heard God’s will lies in who you are, what you like to do, and what the world needs. There is some fancy quote that ties up that point nicely, but I don’t have time to google it. My bedtime is in 30 minutes. I have been in careful contemplation today. Because my husband did something really big last week. He applied to a Bible school. This is something I have been begging him to do for years. Yes, I know we have barely any money. And we have children coming out of our ears, growing in my womb, family all over the map, and I guess my point is: we have nothing figured out. It’s funny how that is when God usually stirs us towards new things. Uh, shouldn’t we be settled first? He wants us to move to a place of not knowing. So we can trust Him even more, that’s my best guess. I do, I am totally down with doing whatever He has for us. There is that money thing though and I look around me at Mommies doing their business things and I am happy for them, but definitely a little envious. I watched my talented sister in law raise money for her and Andrew’s Africa trip, and now that my husband wishes to embark on something new and God ordained I feel this rush of energy in the core of my being. I CAN help make this happen for him!! I can do it!! I can do something that is worth monetary gain! I can!!
Like…uhhh….umm….hmmmm…such as,….hmmm….*random mannerism I do as I think*
…hmmm. Let’s see…uhhhh….What the heck am I good at?
You see my dilemma, I believe. So I have been in need of vision here, that is the plot of this blog. It occurred to me earlier as I thought about what I want to do with my life that when I think about the things I enjoy when I am not being mom or wife or friend, I am just being ME, my life always seems to lead me right back here to this keyboard. To my blog. To my feelings poured out on paper, and my thoughts spilled out into the open so they don’t excite me before I sleep. In the afternoons, when I can barely keep my eyes open I look at the couch and day dream what it might be like to nap. I make time for naps every day. But somehow I regularly opt for something hot to drink, and I’m pulled up in a chair in front of our laptop. Because this is what I love, I am convinced that somehow writing is what I am meant to do.
I have written a children’s book, but I can’t afford to get it published just yet. I am halfway finished with two different novels. I love to write narratives, but just cannot find the time or inspiration to give them what they deserve. One day. But for now, I love this blog. I love doing this and so I pitched upgrading my blog to my own domain name today and my husband agreed. He said yes! So this evening has been one of great dreams, and an ambition the size of Jupiter. What should I call my blog? Should it be about my family, or my faith, or just whatever happens to be on my mind? I just can’t say. I am excited at what God is stirring in my heart.
And yes, all of this scheming was jumpstarted because I want to help my husband make ends meet in this drab economy. I want to one day turn an income. There is my dream. Don’t laugh at me. But more than anything, I want to continue doing something that exercises my soul. I want to be heard. I want to help others in their struggles to understand themselves, their marriages, and family, and even God. Because I am on a journey too and believe it or not, I’ve somehow been where you are or I’m probably going there one day. I hope you’re not laughing at me. Did I say that already? Truthfully, to God’s credit alone, I have had probably 60 messages on face book since I started my blog. People who I do not even keep in touch with have written me to tell me that my blog touched them. And even though I look at myself in the mirror and yes, I think idiot, the feedback I have gotten from this measly little blog has to mean something.
I don’t know why people are touched by what I say. My nearest guess is that I am a real person (or God, I hope I am!). I do try to be edifying, or encouraging, or at least share what the Lord has been teaching me in different areas. Maybe I do an idiotic job at it. *sigh*
Trying to be encouraging here. This is wild for me. So go do something that’s wild for you too! There, I said it. I heard a really great message one time on how sometimes we’re afraid to pick apples because if they fall on the ground, they are no good anymore. But we shouldn’t be afraid because there is never a second that God won’t use our failed attempts for something. Even if it becomes an apple for someone else, or fertilizer for the ground. Your apples are going to fall from the tree. Who cares? The trees are full of ‘em. Let’s get busy gathering, the Christian life is anything but ordinary.
What do you want to do?
Friday, May 4, 2012
Thoughts on Marriage
If you would have asked the 15 year old me what my mission was in life, I was have told you flat out, “I want to get married.” I started writing letters to my husband at around that age, sealing them up in little envelopes. Most of them boasted self pitying remarks such as, “I can’t believe I actually found someone to love me!” I would tell you to ask Paul to verify this fact, but he doesn’t have these letters in his possession, not since I handed them out to my first boyfriend when I was 17 because I was pretty sure that I was going to marry him. Why not?
I loved Paul from a very early point in our relationship. But I think it’s safe to say that I relied far more on God’s will than my emotions. My emotions said, “run away, this is just too good,” but one day I seriously got down on my knees and I cried. I told God that if this is not His will, I needed to know right then. And for the first time in my entire life, I heard the voice of the Lord. I heard the words “Mark 7” spoken right to my heart. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard God’s voice that clearly since that moment. But I ran to my Bible, opened it to Mark 7 and began to read what Jesus taught about marriage. And the wheels starting spinning in my head as I sat on the couch with the Bible open in my lap. You mean, Paul’s the one?…You want me to marry Paul, don’t you?…I am in a relationship with the man I am going to marry. The thought swirled around in my head, and I wept. I don’t remember God speaking again, but it was almost like he was nodding in my spirit, nudging me along to the realization. Did I believe Him? Sort of. I asked for a “sign” about every day. Because even the most spiritual moment of my life up until that point, I doubted it. So I would say, “God, would you just show me one more time that Paul is the one?,” and sometimes He would, and sometimes He wouldn’t. One day I had the Bible on my lap and God told me to read James. I was so young in my walk then, I had to go to the table of contents to find out if James was even a chapter in the Bible. I doubted my hearing abilities. I doubted that Paul could be the one. But as I read James God opened my eyes to the double minded man, the one who asked for wisdom and then doubted. And so I didn’t doubt His word to me anymore because I knew He’d answered my question.
So now I have been married for going on 4 years. If you read my journal on the fourth day of my marriage to Paul, you will see that I had already decided that I wanted out. You see, Paul and I met online so we had never spent time together in person before we were married, not more than a week or so at a time. Leading up to our wedding he was in North Carolina for a month but we were living in separate houses, and I was in school full time, also taking care of Jake. Only one day home from our honeymoon I learned that Paul liked to open up all of the windows in a house while blaring music. While he had basketball on the TV in the background. I abhor loud music. And basketball. And bugs. So I found myself asking him nicely to turn the music down, turn the sports off, close our windows. He said no. Then I made my way to the bathroom and I cried. I wrote in my journal, this is not how I thought being married would be like. Sometimes that statement rings as unbelievably true in my heart even today. Because this is hard for me. No matter how much I want to believe that we are becoming one, I still feel very much like I am my own person. And he is his.
Paul and I are happily married. We love one another, and for the most part, we have the same vision for our lives (I would throw some colorful foster children into the family mix right now, but Paul wants to wait). We have surrendered ourselves to God and on some days that’s all we have. We said the day we got married, “we don’t believe in divorce.” We don’t believe that divorce is an option. It isn’t. Still, I was thinking today how hard it is to be married. Paul and I got in a “discussion” this morning because I had a dream that someone from my past came back around, not even an ex-boyfriend, just a friend. In my dream I wasn’t with Paul anymore. That in itself freaked me out, so like an idiot I thought Paul would want to hear about it. But Paul’s feelings were hurt because he thought maybe there was some underlying reason that I would dream about someone else. So he decided not to talk to me for awhile. I was hurt by that because it’s not like I can help having a dream, and all I can do is say that I love him. That I would never leave him. He works in a place where “perfect 10’s” come in on a daily basis. He says that he would never leave me. Sometimes I am so struck by the fragility of someone’s words. That word called trust is so elusive, one minute it means everything to me, and the next I wonder if it’s enough for either of us. I’ve been researching tattoos today. I want to get my wedding ring tattooed on with Paul’s initials underneath it. I had another idea to get P + S inside my current heart tattoo, and have Ruth 1:16-17 written underneath (the reference, not the verse!). How can Paul know with all of his heart that I will never go anywhere?
Marriages are crumbling around me. Everywhere. People married for 5 years, 10 years, 20 years, they call it quits. They justify it with all of their hearts and as I sit here saying, “I don’t believe in divorce,” I have to wonder if they said those very words the day of their wedding, but just found a greater truth to believe in. People with the word of God written on their hearts will quit just the same as those with no reason to make it work. That is incredibly frightening in the heart of this 25 year-old newlywed.
I pray to God that there is hope for Paul and I. My new habit is to say “God, I pray a blessing on my marriage in Jesus’ name” every time the enemy plants division, offense, or doubt in my heart about my husband. Anytime I have trouble tracking down passion that I once knew, I will pray over my bed, and ask God that He’ll bless our intimacy. I am convinced that without God, marriage is near impossible. I also like to think of the Paul that God loves, and it helps me remember that God has an amazing plan for my husband's life and it makes me just want to stand tall next to him. I read one of those little one liners on Pinterest that said, “Being married is like having a sleepover with your best friend every night,” and I thought to myself, what kind of idiot wrote that? Now I am going to have to apologize to God for my more than pessimist view, especially since He chose marriage to be the expression of His love for the church. I am the bride of Christ. I made a pretty crappy bride if you ask me. Don’t think I’m unloading on Paul here, I am definitely a difficult person to live with. I guess I should be grateful that Paul tells me on a daily basis that marriage isn’t about me being happy, it’s about me obeying a covenant that I made before God.
I guess I should be grateful that I am happy.
I love being married, to Paul. I am blessed to have a “good as gold” husband in my midst! I was just thinking today, drawing out tattoo sketches (right before I read that I’m not supposed to get one while pregnant…and I HATE being patient, one of my less than par traits), that getting something permanent on my body isn’t going to be enough to keep my marriage going. Or give Paul any reassurance. It has to be written on my heart. It has to be how I live out my promise on a daily basis: learning to forgive, learning to submit (to Paul and to God!), and trusting that God definitely knew what He was talking about when He told me that Paul was the one He set aside for me. I never think, ‘I want a divorce.’ I just get overwhelmed sometimes, that we are in this for the long haul here and all I have is his word. And all he has is mine. That is profound and incredibly frightening at the same time, I think. And that some of this isn't going to be based on emotion as much as it is my choice to live up to my word, on the easy days and the hard ones.
Ruth 1:16-18 (scripture from our wedding)
16 But Ruth replied, "Don't ask me to leave you and turn back. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. 17 Wherever you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord punish me severely if I allow anything but death to separate us!"
I loved Paul from a very early point in our relationship. But I think it’s safe to say that I relied far more on God’s will than my emotions. My emotions said, “run away, this is just too good,” but one day I seriously got down on my knees and I cried. I told God that if this is not His will, I needed to know right then. And for the first time in my entire life, I heard the voice of the Lord. I heard the words “Mark 7” spoken right to my heart. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard God’s voice that clearly since that moment. But I ran to my Bible, opened it to Mark 7 and began to read what Jesus taught about marriage. And the wheels starting spinning in my head as I sat on the couch with the Bible open in my lap. You mean, Paul’s the one?…You want me to marry Paul, don’t you?…I am in a relationship with the man I am going to marry. The thought swirled around in my head, and I wept. I don’t remember God speaking again, but it was almost like he was nodding in my spirit, nudging me along to the realization. Did I believe Him? Sort of. I asked for a “sign” about every day. Because even the most spiritual moment of my life up until that point, I doubted it. So I would say, “God, would you just show me one more time that Paul is the one?,” and sometimes He would, and sometimes He wouldn’t. One day I had the Bible on my lap and God told me to read James. I was so young in my walk then, I had to go to the table of contents to find out if James was even a chapter in the Bible. I doubted my hearing abilities. I doubted that Paul could be the one. But as I read James God opened my eyes to the double minded man, the one who asked for wisdom and then doubted. And so I didn’t doubt His word to me anymore because I knew He’d answered my question.
So now I have been married for going on 4 years. If you read my journal on the fourth day of my marriage to Paul, you will see that I had already decided that I wanted out. You see, Paul and I met online so we had never spent time together in person before we were married, not more than a week or so at a time. Leading up to our wedding he was in North Carolina for a month but we were living in separate houses, and I was in school full time, also taking care of Jake. Only one day home from our honeymoon I learned that Paul liked to open up all of the windows in a house while blaring music. While he had basketball on the TV in the background. I abhor loud music. And basketball. And bugs. So I found myself asking him nicely to turn the music down, turn the sports off, close our windows. He said no. Then I made my way to the bathroom and I cried. I wrote in my journal, this is not how I thought being married would be like. Sometimes that statement rings as unbelievably true in my heart even today. Because this is hard for me. No matter how much I want to believe that we are becoming one, I still feel very much like I am my own person. And he is his.
Paul and I are happily married. We love one another, and for the most part, we have the same vision for our lives (I would throw some colorful foster children into the family mix right now, but Paul wants to wait). We have surrendered ourselves to God and on some days that’s all we have. We said the day we got married, “we don’t believe in divorce.” We don’t believe that divorce is an option. It isn’t. Still, I was thinking today how hard it is to be married. Paul and I got in a “discussion” this morning because I had a dream that someone from my past came back around, not even an ex-boyfriend, just a friend. In my dream I wasn’t with Paul anymore. That in itself freaked me out, so like an idiot I thought Paul would want to hear about it. But Paul’s feelings were hurt because he thought maybe there was some underlying reason that I would dream about someone else. So he decided not to talk to me for awhile. I was hurt by that because it’s not like I can help having a dream, and all I can do is say that I love him. That I would never leave him. He works in a place where “perfect 10’s” come in on a daily basis. He says that he would never leave me. Sometimes I am so struck by the fragility of someone’s words. That word called trust is so elusive, one minute it means everything to me, and the next I wonder if it’s enough for either of us. I’ve been researching tattoos today. I want to get my wedding ring tattooed on with Paul’s initials underneath it. I had another idea to get P + S inside my current heart tattoo, and have Ruth 1:16-17 written underneath (the reference, not the verse!). How can Paul know with all of his heart that I will never go anywhere?
Marriages are crumbling around me. Everywhere. People married for 5 years, 10 years, 20 years, they call it quits. They justify it with all of their hearts and as I sit here saying, “I don’t believe in divorce,” I have to wonder if they said those very words the day of their wedding, but just found a greater truth to believe in. People with the word of God written on their hearts will quit just the same as those with no reason to make it work. That is incredibly frightening in the heart of this 25 year-old newlywed.
I pray to God that there is hope for Paul and I. My new habit is to say “God, I pray a blessing on my marriage in Jesus’ name” every time the enemy plants division, offense, or doubt in my heart about my husband. Anytime I have trouble tracking down passion that I once knew, I will pray over my bed, and ask God that He’ll bless our intimacy. I am convinced that without God, marriage is near impossible. I also like to think of the Paul that God loves, and it helps me remember that God has an amazing plan for my husband's life and it makes me just want to stand tall next to him. I read one of those little one liners on Pinterest that said, “Being married is like having a sleepover with your best friend every night,” and I thought to myself, what kind of idiot wrote that? Now I am going to have to apologize to God for my more than pessimist view, especially since He chose marriage to be the expression of His love for the church. I am the bride of Christ. I made a pretty crappy bride if you ask me. Don’t think I’m unloading on Paul here, I am definitely a difficult person to live with. I guess I should be grateful that Paul tells me on a daily basis that marriage isn’t about me being happy, it’s about me obeying a covenant that I made before God.
I guess I should be grateful that I am happy.
I love being married, to Paul. I am blessed to have a “good as gold” husband in my midst! I was just thinking today, drawing out tattoo sketches (right before I read that I’m not supposed to get one while pregnant…and I HATE being patient, one of my less than par traits), that getting something permanent on my body isn’t going to be enough to keep my marriage going. Or give Paul any reassurance. It has to be written on my heart. It has to be how I live out my promise on a daily basis: learning to forgive, learning to submit (to Paul and to God!), and trusting that God definitely knew what He was talking about when He told me that Paul was the one He set aside for me. I never think, ‘I want a divorce.’ I just get overwhelmed sometimes, that we are in this for the long haul here and all I have is his word. And all he has is mine. That is profound and incredibly frightening at the same time, I think. And that some of this isn't going to be based on emotion as much as it is my choice to live up to my word, on the easy days and the hard ones.
Ruth 1:16-18 (scripture from our wedding)
16 But Ruth replied, "Don't ask me to leave you and turn back. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. 17 Wherever you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord punish me severely if I allow anything but death to separate us!"
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