Broken Record

The last post I wrote was last August. About my walk with God and how it hasn't been a priority in my life. Well it's now May and I sit in the same spot. Actually maybe further from where I was because occasionally I feel the pull to get closer to Christ and instead choose to play some version candy crush or eat some more chocolate. Or binge watch my newest obsession. Which recently was re-reading and then re-watching all of the Harry Potter books and movies.

Yesterday Matthew and I went to kindergarten round up. He struggled on his little test with the teacher, who was cute and younger mind you, something that makes Matthew zip his usually chatty mouth. He did what I expected. He couldn't say his ABCs, count to 10, or do all of his colors in the presence of this beautiful lady. He's such a boy. I know this. But insert mom guilt.

Have I made the wrong choice not doing preschool? How is he going to go to school 5 days a week when he hasn't had to go at all? Doesn't our society demand too much learning on our kids too young now a days? Should we home school after all? Am I capable enough to home school if he doesn't even know those mere basics in front of pretty ladies?

Or how about this past Monday when we went to the dentist, which I knew it had been awhile. I'm a self titled slacker mom. It's been over a year, maybe closer to 2. I'm learning I am a person that has to have a dental appointment on the calendar set up early or it doesn't happen time gets away from me. But alas, this dental appointment pushed in those "bad mom fangs". And I've been having a hard time extracting them from my thoughts and heart. Not only will my son likely be a toothless wonder with all four front teeth missing for his first day of school but he also doesn't know his ABCs.

This anxiety and self-doubt isn't about Matthew. I know he is smart. He's fun. He's loving. As others say to sum it up, "He's a hoot!" I don't know a person that has met Matthew that hasn't fallen in love with who he is in a whole. And that means I'm not a bad mom.

Add all of these crazy feeling up with the fact that the ugly day of Mother's day is coming up and all the mixed emotions that my heart feels towards this day. And that my period is taking it's sweet ass time to get here. Hormones talking, don't mind me. It leave me wallowing in self-pity once more.

Tears in my eyes, thinking to myself, "Maybe I'm a bad mom and that's why God hasn't allowed us to have more babies." There I said it. Logically I know this isn't true. God give babies to crack addicts and child molesters, which I assure you I'm clearly neither of these. But I may have had the thought of being a real life baby snatcher to one of these types of parents.

So here I am, Matthew is 4.5 years old. James and I have been married for almost 8 years. And here I sit on the couch tearing up over thinking I'm a bad mom. I'm 60 lbs heavier than when I got pregnant with Matthew and struggling to find truth. I turn off the TV and do something I haven't done in quite sometime. Turn up the worship, open up my Bible app and read. Asking God to show me the real truth.

The verse of the day is Hebrews 11:1, "Faith shows the reality of what we hope for, it is the evidence of things we cannot see." I smiled a little and knew the it was what I needed today. I read Chapter 11. The chapter on great faith. Something I have been lacking lately.

Spattered among the great giants of our faith were verses I had previously highlighted. Words that spoke truth to me and took me away from the edge that I was teetering on labeling me a parenting failure. My eyes have not been on Christ. So I, like a broken record, am at the same spot I have been for a few years now off and on. Trying to clear the brambles in the way of the unkempt path that is my walk with Christ.

Simply Tuesday

The past year several years I have struggled to consistently keep Jesus as my guide and first in my life. Sometimes I feel like that person who is able to not stand still against the waves of life. Or the seed that falls on the different grounds other than fertile soil. Except for when things get tough, my faith usually gets stronger. I tend to have my faith grow much like that of a Yo-Yo diet. I do awesome for awhile but then things are going well so...I decide it isn't as important. When things are going well...well, I tend to make due with what's going on in life and put God on the wayside. Like maybe on the 19th floor in the Wayside School books by Louis Sachar (P.S. I had to look the author up, I am not that good. But if you or your kids haven't read them I remember thinking they were hilarious in Elementary school). You know, the 19th floor right? The floor that well...doesn't exist.

Yup I said it. Sometimes I act like I am more part of the world than a child of God. My Bible has been read sporadically at best this past year. My prayer life has been pretty dry, only because I not offer up the cup to feel refreshed. We haven't tithed more than a meager amount during our "good months". When I don't have accountability with others to keep me looking for Christ in the midst of life things become a hot mess in the faith department. Sure I notice Him during the "big" times but what about in between? 

Tonight I decided to pull the plug and dive into a closer relationship with Christ once more. Even if it means watching fewer Bones episodes or drooling over new LuLaRoe patterns and styles. I bought Simply Tuesday by Emily P. Freeman sometime in May. It has been on my wishlist to read since attending Momcon last year when I heard her speak. Instead of reading it right away it has sat, collecting dust (because who has time to dust when there are unwatched episodes of Bones or LuLaRoe clothing to be discovered and stalked), on my end stand or on the floor next to it for the past 3 months. 

Earlier today I actually thought, "How do people find time to read anymore? I really should find the time." Simply...they don't watch Bones and drool after LuLaRoe (or insert whatever it is that consumes your time). So here I am, on Tuesday...starting Simply Tuesday. And let me tell you, I don't think it is going to disappoint.

So often we yearn for the big, important things in life...fame, recognition, being honored or acknowledged. We wish to have nicer things and to make more money to do things like go on vacation or purchase a newer vehicle. While those things are nice, it's now how most of our days are spent. Emily states, "Most of life happens, not in brightness or in darkness, but in the medium light of a regular day." 

Where are you getting your light from on your regular days? Are you searching for worldly things to give you light? Trying to work harder to be acknowledged and seen by the world? Or does your light come from your faith in Christ as he shines out from you to the world? Are you embracing your smallness. The moments where you are able to talk about Christ to patients or coworkers in a fleeting moment. Or the moments when you are picking up toys for the 15 millionth time in the day (or your husbands socks!)? Or what about when you are doing dishes or cooking dinner? These moments matter. So isn't it time we embrace these moments and seek God out during these times? It is time for me to embrace that cleaning up my house is a blessing because it means that we have these things to take care of. I have food to cook so it means we will not go hungry. I may not have all the things in life that I desire, but God has given me what I need. It's time to find contentment among the ordinary business of life. 

It's time to discover Christ in the midst of my ordinary days. Why don't you join me? Christ never disappoints, He is always available to chat, and He is yearning for you to draw nearer to Him. 

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.

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.

Raw.

Lately it has been pretty chaotic and stressful here at the Hillard household. Sickness has been keeping a hold of me. Between sinus infection that would not clear up, migraines from high blood pressure, anxiety, a stomach bug, and oh did I mention high blood pressure and anxiety?

I have been struggling with sleep for a long time now, but it has culminated itself in exhaustive zombie modes brought on by insomnia. I have had nights where I literally feel so exhausted and go from area to area trying to sleep. At one point I may have lied on the couch and hit my pillow because I was so frustrated and wanted to sleep. My brain wouldn't shut off about all the anxieties of the day, or the anxieties of what the future may hold.

I am usually able to function on minimal sleep. I can usually grin and bear it. I can usually formulate words when I am exhausted without much issue. Add anxiety and a "mild" depression as termed by my physician, I feel like a slobbering mess most of the time. I cannot tell you how many times over the walkie at work I have said to my staff mid sentence, or middle of a sentence that should be forming but is not coming out correctly, "I promise, I can say words....just maybe not right now."

I literally feel stuck to my couch some days with anxieties of all the to do lists that I have to do. Not joking. I can usually fake a smile when out and about or when I am able to forget everything that is pressing in around me...but lately the couch has been glued to my glutes. And my eyes glued to a screen. Counseling may be in my future. Which causes more anxiety because of finances.

I just kind of feel numb towards life lately. I miss laughing. Like big belly laughs with snorts included. Laughter until you cry. Carefree smiles and fun times with friends. I keep trying to tell myself once you are done with school. Or once finances start to look better. Or...you get the picture. But the fact of the matter is, I have been spiritually dry lately. 

I haven't been looking to Christ to fill me with his promises. It is so easy for me to keep my eyes on my circumstances of life when I take out Godly influences such as church, small group, and MOPs. Most of it isn't by choice, it is the season I am at in life. And the fact that I have been trying to fill myself up by the things at life that may fill my physical "needs" but do nothing for spiritual growth and sustenance.

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.

Hope for the Holidays

This month I have been reflecting on how mighty our Lord is, and how I let life get me down. When feeling down the darkness invades and I cannot help but remember all of the heartbreak that holidays bring to so many. Us included. The ache from wanting a baby before we had Matthew, to the complicated ache that we now experience of wanting another child but not wanting to admit we want to try for another because of the multiple losses and heartbreak we experienced on that journey of actively trying to conceive. The ache of dreams not coming true, of babies that never got to know our faces. And then I see him. His name is Matthew. Our precious little miracle that You protected and brought into our lives.

Then I think of You God. All of the pain and joy you must have felt on the day of Christ's birth. The pain of knowing all that the future held for Jesus. The joy of seeing your son in the flesh, the joy of knowing all that would come to know you and be called children of God because of the sacrifices your son Jesus made for us. The sorrow of seeing your son treated as harshly as he was, the pain you had to feel for him as he was on the cross. 

You knew all of this at His birth. And yet you let Him live it, so he could be the sacrificial lamb that shows us the way to You Lord. My heart cannot even comprehend...

It brings me back to the moment where Jesus in Luke 22:42 says,
"Father, if you are willing, please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine."

It makes me think of the cup that you gave us. This bitter inducing cup of infertility and loss. And I think of all of the times I have asked you to take this cup from us. To heal me from infertility and bless us with healthy pregnancies. Yet, I desperately want your will to be done, not mine. So the cup stays in my hand, like that thorn in Paul's side.

You have given me so much strength in my weakness, strength that I would rather have never known. In circumstances that I wish would never have happened. Yet, especially during the holidays I find myself identifying with what the world would label me instead of who You call me. I struggle through feelings of inadequacy due to not being able to have babies without struggle, of not being able to purchase the presents that I wish we could give, of not having Christmas decorations up in a put together home. It emphasizes how much of a misfit I often feel in this world. It leads to more struggles with what the world may call me due to where we are in life. The more I hear the false identities of the world, the more I forget my identity in Christ. The less time I spend reading Your promises.

Lord even in the hardness of this Holiday season, my heart still wants more of you and less busy chaos. I pray that is the echo of my sisters in Christ as well. 

There are glimmers of hope and the cheerfulness of giving in this season that peak through the moments of sorrow and darkness. Spreading the light of Jesus, just when I needed it. When I get the text from a friend saying she wants to help me out around the house, something I had been praying for...real authentic friendship that sees a need and answers it. Someone that isn't afraid to step into this messy life I have and parent their children right beside us. To someone literally giving us a vehicle when James' truck broke down. Like literally GIVING us a car. This is the second time this has happened to us. I'm not kidding, why do I even question the goodness of you God? To the friend that in the midst of me feeling alone in my brokenness and hurting this holiday season says, "Jess, I had to step away from Facebook. The pregnancy announcements and babies were getting to me." She gets my heart and I get hers. We are excited for the women and their families, yet too often it feels like salt in our wounds and dashed dreams.

People ask what we are getting Matthew for Christmas. I answer a few small things. But what I really want Matthew to have for Christmas more than any play thing or gift under the Christmas tree is an authentic, real, giving heart that beats to the beat of Jesus and hands and feet that go where the Holy Spirit tells him to go. 

I started out this week feeling rather hopeless and disappointed by life. But it is the authentic, real people that pointed my focus back to Christ and showed me that there is hope to still have a Merry Christmas. There is still some happiness in the holidays. 

That my friends is what I want to give Matthew more than gifts under a tree. In the midst of hard times, I want him to know there is always hope in Christ.

Rollercoaster

I have been struggling quite a bit lately. My faith walk with God has felt like a roller coaster lately, except for the low points instead of feeling exhilarating with that pit in your stomach that brings excitement and adrenaline....the low points bring isolation, loneliness, condemnation from Satan, lies being whispered (or shouted) in your ear, and this leach that sucks joy from your life.

Yes this is where I have been. Disappointment with placement in clinical. Self condemnation for poor house keeping skills, condemnation for needing to finish school and work and have this beautiful blessing that most days I feel I do not deserve, and in turn start to believe that I am not deserving of another baby one day.

Listening more to what the world says gives me value. Comparing myself with others. Condemning myself for every little thing that I am not doing good enough, every little thing I am not able to hold up to standards set by myself. I haven't laughed much. I haven't read my Bible much. Praying comes at night time and during the day time often filled frustrated words, even sometimes filled with cuss words, towards God because I have been in this horrible place where my tongue has definitely not been tamed. 

I love the exhilarating heights and despise the isolating lows. And unfortunately in my walk as a Christian I have found myself in the pits more often than I would care to admit. And definitely more often than I believe Christ wants me there. 

I'm not certain what the walk with Christ is supposed to be like. I know that everyone's journey is different. But I am not certain how many Christians would agree that it feels like you are a passenger on a Rollercoaster ride. I believe our walks should be more like a dirt road where you continue on in spite of any bumps, rocks, potholes, or stinky roadkill. You don't mind pay much attention to the steep hills or winding paths because of your steadfast walk beside Christ. 

As much as I love Rollercoasters I am so ready to get off from this emotionally and spiritually daunting ride and trade it in for a more intimate, steady relationship with Christ.