Tuesday, August 30, 2016
Simply Tuesday
Sunday, May 8, 2016
Confession.
Confession: I hate Mother's Day.
I love my mom and am beyond thankful for her....but I hate Mother's day.
Some years I see Mother's Day as a hallmark holiday.
Most years all I see is the pain of all the women that are childless. Those that yearned to be mothers but life didn't have it in her cards.
This year I saw it with potential and hope of a day to celebrate women who parent children, either their own or others.
But I still felt sad. It is a tainted "holiday" for me. I see posts of mothers with all their children and think about all of our babies. The ones that made me a mother without recognition from this world.
13 babies in heaven, and one little miracle. Matthew.
My cup is full but still feels empty some days. An ache that never fully goes away.
In Sunday school we were asked to reflect on a time we questioned God's goodness. I had held back the tides of sadness pretty well all morning and then it all came crashing into me. Our infertility. Our losses. I questioned God's goodness. I questioned His plans for my life. I almost walked away from God during the most bitter angry moments in my life.
I held tears back for the most part. But the excitement of Mother's Day was gone for me at that point.
I hate Mother's Day. I nominate a change to Women's Day. But that probably would be politically incorrect.
Let's celebrate the women in our lives that have impacted our lives or our children's lives. Ministry workers. Aunts. Grandparents. Babysitters. Friends.
I am beyond thankful for the women that have influenced my life from my mom, my grandmothers, my aunts, my mom's friend Faith, Chris Coddaire and other girl scout mom's, my friends' mothers, my friends, those that teach my son at church, and those watched him endless hours during nursing school.
But I have to confess in all honesty.
I hate Mother's Day.
Saturday, March 12, 2016
Bittersweet
Tonight I was pouring my heart out to God. Sorting through left over, painful scars from infertility. Wounds that I wish would heal without anymore pain.
Wounds that I wish I could forget most days. Wounds that I feel have tainted my joy for others some days. Especially when I see reflections or remember where we were 4 years ago. Facing our fifth loss with only a tiny thread of hope left. Only to have Christ sweep in and deliver this amazing little miracle to us, our goofy boy named Matthew.
You see, I want to fully rejoice with those who rejoice over having a baby instead of the painful reminder bubbling up time and time again. I desperately want Christ to remove our infertility or to remove the pain and desire to carry another baby in my womb.
And then I heard the Holy Spirit ask me, "Do you want another baby more? Or would you rather build my kingdom?"
I don't know fully the meaning of it. But I do know with my heart and soul I do not want to get in the way of God. I want people to choose Him. I know our story can be part of that. But it is so darn hard to walk this path.
I am learning so many things about myself since starting this antidepressant/antianxiety medication. Feeling things I haven't allowed myself to feel in quite some time. I carry a wounded heart that only Jesus can heal. A wounded heart that he looks at and sees a masterpiece in the making. Even if I am feeling like a mess in the moment.
It's a little bittersweet to know that because of my hope in Christ it makes it possible to have hope in circumstances such as these, even when the sense of hopelessness tries to take over. It is bittersweet to know that even in my brokenness God wishes me no harm, but rather to use it for His Kingdom. Some days my heart says, "Bring it!" And other says, I want to hide and not move from my couch.
And then I hear the sweet whispers of Christ, in the midst of the darkness, crying out to me, come home. Let me tell you all that you have ever done. Let me help you walk through the tough times. Let me help you find joy and laughter once more.
And I answer, Lord I am coming. Help me walk through this. Let me see my life through your eyes.
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
Raw.
I have now been taking an antidepressant for approximately a week. Let me tell you, it is amazing to sleep. I am sure the giving up caffeine on most days and doing my best not to nap is helping amazingly, but to sleep all night long?! What an amazing feeling!! I haven't slept this well in such a long time. Possibly since before having Matthew. I am not even joking, 3 years is a long time to live life on crappy sleep.
The day I made the phone call to ask for the doctor to squeeze me in to discuss an antidepressant I almost threw up. Literally, I choked back the taste in my mouth and felt so nauseated. How did I get to that pit? Last week I felt so raw with the realization that I had let myself believe the lies of Satan. I had taken my eyes off Christ. I stopped reading the Bible. I stopped actively listening to worship music. Podcasts were not played. I stopped going to group even when I was able to go. I felt exhausted and overwhelmed by life. I focused on the problems or potential problems of the future instead of remembering that my feet were on the rock and keeping my eyes above the waves of life. I was like that person tossed around by the sees of life.
Even now Satan tries to whisper to my heart at times, "See you are indeed that seed that was planted on crappy soil. You cannot even grow your roots down deep enough into Christ to live victoriously. You will always be bound in my chains." Admitting that makes my heart pound harder and faster.
Christ and the Bible teach the opposite. Christ was pierced for my transgressions, all of the sin of the past, present, and future were upon Him. Through His death the chains of sin were broken. Death couldn't hold Him down. And because of God's plan, the death and life of Jesus Christ, and the presence of the Holy Spirit I can live in victory. If only I make the conscious choice to do so.