Me. Me. Me

Some things have happened in the past few months that put me in a selfish space. Wait. That makes me sound like a passive bystander.  The past month I have chosen to be selfish, cranky, and distant. I have wallowed in my pain, my comparisons, my unfulfilled wants. I embraced it. Reveled in it. Sank deeper into a sanctimonious stew of selfish sin.

I have been mean to my husband and short with my son. Jealousy, bitterness, greed, anger, and resentment have been my good friends. The further I sank, the easier it was to add self loathing and guilt. I'm awful.

You see, I am impatient and frustrated. I thought by now God would have done something to show me what this is all about. I thought I would know the plan, but my version of the plan feels impossible. I feel old, and ill and worthless. I wonder when my husband will wish for a wife whose reproductive system works, or when my son will blame me for his lack of siblings. This is not what I want.

People are beginning to tire of me, of listening to my struggles or my hopes. At least that is my paranoid perspective.I don't want to be the weird lady who we feel bad for, yet how can I be anyone else? I have wrapped myself up in my feelings. Held on to rage, sadness, disappointment, depression and shame. I am so ashamed. Infertility feels shameful, choosing to deliver your child and ending his life feels shameful, being sad still feels shameful.

I wrap myself up and around this because I am embarrassed and afraid. This broken, hurting, lost and tired woman is not who I planned to be. Yes, I see a counselor. Yes, I am seeking medical care, yes I know lots of women lose babies. Yes I know almost a year has passed. Yes, I thought I would be much better by now too. Yes, I thought we would be pregnant again. Yes, I thought another child would come. Yes, I am almost 37. Yes. Yes. Yes.

I get angry. I ask God why this is happening, and when a clear answer doesn't come I get angrier. Everyday I am at the foot of the cross crying out. Everyday God takes me to Joseph rotting in prison, Sarah laughing at His promise, David facing Goliath, Paul in chains, Stephen stoned, and back to Christ on the cross. Everyday I tell God I got it and plan to not be selfish, bitter and angry. Lately, I have failed everyday.

Everyday I am coming back with the same cry and every day He is holding me again. Perseverance develops character and character develops hope. Romans 5:4. The past few days the pain is less. I can make it further. See others besides me. I have no answers. I am frustrated. I am struggling. All I have is obedience, so each day I am back at the Cross crying again.

Maybe faith isn't being perfect, or getting it right? This selfish journey is part of the plan, and I may never know why or how. I am starting to believe that just trying is a big part of this. Admitting I need God in all of it and learning to be content when I don't want to be. God is slowly unwrapping me, helping me make small changes. Today, I was bitter, but I caught myself. Tomorrow I begin again. Thank God for His all encompassing patience, forgiveness, and love.

Faith expressed through love

The only thing that counts is faith expressed through love Galatians 5:6

My son is singing. In his sleepy sweet voice he is crooning "grown ups come back". He has an unbreakable faith that those he loves come back to him. Mom,Dad, Nanny, Grandma and Grandpa, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, Hudson, Brett the cat. These people love him, therefore they will come back. I am in awe, and finally get the goal of child like faith.

I never believed people came back. I was distraught to see them leave and sure they wouldn't return. I lived in constant terror of losing my family and being alone. The roots of my anxiety disorder are pretty clear. I still live two minutes from my Mom and see her almost everyday. I still get anxious when we travel apart from each other.

This fear has impacted my faith. If you believe you will be abandoned, you will always be looking for the "good enough" balance. I did this great thing, so they will stay, but I also was bad so they will leave. You need the right balance to ensure security. Don't mess up or bad thing will happen and you will be alone and worthless.

I learned this as the daughter and step-daughter of two emotionally abusive fathers. They both gave and took love based on inconsistent and petty whims. They both used their words to hurt and manipulate. They used anger to control, and they both left. At 16, I determined that I couldn't balance the scale for a God whose love would only turn out to mirror my fathers. I wasn't worth loving.

I was a failure. An ugly failure. An ugly, fat, failure. I couldn't figure out what I needed to do to earn the love I wanted. Then I married a man who knew my worst secrets and loved me in spite of them. I begin to wonder if I knew anything.

I spent the beginning of my marriage waiting for him to leave. Waiting to tip the balance, waiting to be proven unlovable. He told me he wasn't leaving. He worked through the rough patches, held me while I cried, he had faith in us and he expressed it by continuing to love me when I didn't deserve it.

There is no "good enough " balance. All that matters is faith expressed through love. My husbands love impacted my faith. If I believed that God brought me Justin, then I had to believe He could offer me the same love.

I had to come to the Cross with the same faith my son carries everyday. Jesus was always there for me because He loves me. His love makes my faith possible, and that faith grows when I allow the Spirit to teach me to love.

A girl so like me returned to my life a day after I asked God to give me someone to share His love with. She is struggling to fight demons and be good enough. Unlike my son, her faith in those who should love her was shattered a long time ago. She lies, and runs, and manipulates. She cries, and begs for help, and I have a longing to love her. A fierce desire to protect her. She isn't my child, and the help I offer is small, but I love her. I have no scale. I can only offer love.

Of course I feel the same love for my son, but that love was born with him. This love came to me in an assurance of faith. This is Jesus using me to show how big His heart is. This is faith expressed through love. I am not good enough to love like this on my own. Scarred hands softly make my heart bigger and through that my faith grows. Loving this child is a gift.

I am not an exceptionally good or loving person. Anyone can have this love. Anyone can feel this joy. Anyone can be this hopeful. Anyone can revel in this faith. Ask for it. You don't need anything else. Jesus will do the rest. Your faith will grow when you accept His love. It will explode when you share it. No scales. No good enough. Just faith expressed through love.

Prison

At what point do you break free? How do you you keep believing your pain will wnd and that all you are going through will be for the glory of God? My body is my prison. For almost a decade I have fought it. The constant struggle to get pregnant, lose weight, take a drug, have a procedure, workout but actually gain weight, a new drug, fertility meds, acupuncture,a miracle, no milk, non stop focus on getting milk, failing to feed my child, back to the weight struggle, infertility, surprise miracle two, exhaustion, illness, anemia, ANCEPHALY, baby kicks that disappear, too much unneeded milk, exhaustion, anxiety, exhaustion, anemia, cysts, exhaustion, precancerous nose, biopsy, precancerous face, menopause? Oh, biochemical pregnancy, acupuncture, trying to lose weight, hormones to balance your crazy, has made me hate my body.

I am trapped in it. It has failed me. I hate it. White hot, fierce, why don't you work. Hatred. My body's inability to meet its main biological imperative forms the chains that way my down. I keep expecting them to be miraculously removed, but the past month they have only gotten heavier.

Paul died after years of imprisonment. Peter too. Joseph went from slavery to prison, had hope of release and still waited two years for freedom. How did they do it? What staved off bitterness and self pity? These guys understood that suffering was nothing when compared to the love they were offered.

They still hurt. Paul complained of a pain,Peter was tortured, Joseph languished in prison for a decade. He had to bathe and shave to see Pharaoh. Their faith didn't grow because they overcame their prison. It grew because they submitted to their imprisonment and still chose to say, "you will not mie. Your plan not mine". Freedom came in death for Paul and Peter and a glorious promotion for Joseph.

I hate my body, yet God loves it. I want to give up, but God holds my hand. I want to fight, but He tells me peace. My miracle fix will most likely not come. I really physically and financially can't do more than one last round of treatments, and letting go of a baby leaves me with cysts and hormonal weight and a decision of how to proceed.

I have fought my prison,but I am learning to submit. To show my body love with healthy food and workouts, to use sunscreen and do yoga. My body sucks but my faith is growing stronger each day.

Why I can't discuss your ultrasound

Dear Friend,
  I wanted to take a moment to explain my actions, and I thought doing it here may help others in similar situations. You may have noticed that I tend to shut down when you discuss your upcoming gender ultrasound. Or maybe you have seen me turn my head and begin a new conversation in the midst of you sharing your excitement at such and important day. I must seem so rude and selfish to you.

I was the last of us to discuss gender ultrasounds, and you were always interested and excited, but I can't discuss yours. The mere thought of it makes me dizzy. I am  suddenly back in a small room going from joy to terror in seconds. My heart is racing, my world is spinning and I can't breath.

I am terrified. I belong to a club that I don't want anyone to join. I now know that good can become bad, and I do not want someone I care for to share that knowledge. Please know that I am praying. That I am happy for you. That when your baby comes I will hold him or her and be happy for  your family, but for this moment. For this thing, I can't.

Other moments, when people discuss the terror of getting pregnant again, or tell me that I don't know hard it is with two kids, those I can get through. Those I can breath through, but this is too big.

I may not always be this woman. God is working on me. No matter what, you are in my prayers and I do want to know if you are having a boy or girl. I do want to celebrate with you, but it will take time and I am thankful for your patience.

I don't think I should have to pray for her.

" If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3 If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned,[a] but have not love, I gain nothing"
1 Corinthians 13:1-3

There is someone I don't want to pray for. I don't want to forgive them. I don't want their situation to get better. I want them to go away. Far, far away. I want them to leave my family alone. The mere thought of them angers me. This person is so selfish, deceitful, manipulative and abusive that they have almost succeeded in tearing my extended family apart. 

The amount of energy that we have expended on this person and their effect on us is astounding. God finally intervened and removed them from part of our lives, but they are still there. Knocking on the door and poking the wound. I don't even deal with them directly. I am way far down the line. Outside of a random crazy text message, they never contact me. However, I still get angry at them. I still want to see Karma serve them right. I want justice!

God has been pushing me to pray for this person for over a year. Everytime I become angry or want to rant about them, He puts the verses above in my head. I can write the blog, I can spend time in devotions, I can journal and pray and go to church, but if I deny love then I am doing it all for naught. I don't want to love this person, and I don't think they deserve it. The problem is that I don't deserve God's love and forgiveness, but it is freely poured out on me. 

To help me, I have been reminded of this person's life. Their clear mental illness, their lack of family support, their overwhelming lack of self esteem and clear self loathing. Thoughts of how I would feel in their position have flooded my mind, and a desire to pray for them has bubbled up. Honestly, I have done all I can to resist it. 

I am not a very righteous person. I do not love easily, and forgiveness is harder. I am not even interested in it for the "let it go for yourself" vibe. I do not want to do this. To God, I must sound like my toddler "no, thank you. I will take all the parts of walking with you that I like, but I would like to skip this part. I don't want to love someone who received what I so desperately wanted and threw it away. I don't want to. I. Do. Not. Want. To."

Yet, I am. I am praying for them. I am attempting to love them. I am doing this despite the fact that I don't want to. I would love to tell you that when I decided to begin praying for them I was magically filled with peace and love and forgiveness, but I wasn't. I have to force myself. I have to ask God for help. I have to choose to obey what God is calling me to do. 

I am like Jonah in the whale. God was very clear about what Jonah needed to do, and Jonah was very clear about his not doing it. I think I have spent the past few weeks in the belly of the whale. It isn't always about large and amazing miracles. Sometimes it is about obedience and faith. 

I need to be obedient and treat all people with love. It is not my job to judge. It is not my job to determine who is and is not worthy of God's love. It is my job to be a living example of that love. It is my job to show my son how God's love is all forgiving. It is my job to have faith that God will help me love and forgive those who I find unloveable and unforgivable. 

Loving someone right where they are at is easy, if you like where they are, but when they are some place you detest, when their actions appall you, it can  be impossible. However, all things are possible through Christ. I will keep praying, and maybe someday I will truly love them. Until then, I will be thankful that  God doesn't hold me to the same standard I hold others to. 

In a whisper

Grief is strange. I am at a point where a week or two can pass with no aches or tears, but then out of nowhere a word, phrase, look, or innocent question-at times not even directed at me- can make the world stop and waves of sadness crash down. This can be so surprising that I struggle to not break down in a public setting.

I breathe deeply, fight back tears and pray. I pray hard. There are moments when I am not even sure what I am praying. My heart knows the words my mouth can't form. These moments of greif and helplessness are teaching me about faith.

They occur so suddenly, so randomly, that I often have no choice, but to rely on God to get me through the pain of the moment. Often a verse or a praise song will pop into my head, and it is always the perfect comfort.

I do not enjoy these moments of greif. I still, after exactly six months, want to have him here. There are still moments when I can't believe he is gone. I still long to hold him. I still hurt. The only way to survive is to accept these moments as a chance to grow in faith and be reminded of my Savior's perfect love.

The reminders don't come as loud proclamations, or mind blowing miracles. They are quietly whispered to a broken heart. Time and again, the Lord of all Creation leans down to tell me He loves me and will carry me.

My greif may never end, but neither does God's perfect love. By relying on that to survive, I will hopefully be able to reflect that love and help other hurting hearts. I Canthink of no better wat to honor my son then to continue to  strive towards that goal.

Having it together

I have spend a chunk of the past few days watching Friends. I love Friends. Watching it has reminded me of several things; how glamorous it was in high school, how easy it was to relate to in college and how little of life I still have figured out. That is the appeal of the show. These six 20 somethings live a glamorous life and attempt to "get it together".  Twenty years ago, I would watch and imagine how I would have it together. I would review my life plan and smugly check boxes. I knew where I was a going.

Ten years ago I was coming out of three years of working nothing jobs and trying to decide what I wanted to be. I was applying to Masters programs, Justin and I were finally moving towards something serious and I was happy to have a semblance of a plan.


Now, I am married, teaching, a mother and at the age where I have to dye my hair to cover the gray, but I still have yet to get a solid plan. I have attempted plans. I had beautiful ones. A year ago, I was one month from discovering I was pregnant with our second child. One month from feeling that our family would be completed. One month from feeling as if the perfect plan was unfolding in front of me.

That plan didn't work. None of my plans have worked. Whether I am 16, 26 or 36, my plans don't work. In spite of my anxiety, my deep discussions, my research, my imaginings, my reading intos, my goal setting, my plans don't work. I do not have it together. 16 year old me thought she did, 26 year old me thought everyone else but her did, 36 year old me is happy to raise my hand and say I am winging it.

I don't want it to seem that I am irresponsible. I do plan schedules, college tuition, retirement, life insurance and other big deal things. Justin and I have certain life goals, but as for where our family will be next year, well I would say we are winging it. I am happy to stay in my job, my house and my friend group. It is a pretty great life. However, I also long to stay home with my little man. The hardest part of going back to work is leaving him. I have a great job, but 100 14 year olds are not Harrison. Staying home would be a great life too.

I don't know if we will have other children, or how they will come to our family. I don't know if it will be time for Justin to consider administration, or continue teaching. I don't know what my job will look like. 16 year old me would be shocked at how much I don't know.

God has spent this break helping me see that it is ok not to have it together, because He does. He knows where we are going. He knows what will happen. It may be no change, it may be small change and it may be a big change. I don't know. Psalm 27:14 says "Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord."

The words "wait" and "patiently" are my mortal enemies. I don't do either thing well, so I am asking God to do it for me. To help me learn the discipline that is required to stop planning and start living His plan. This is big, because it means that I have stop focusing on me and my wants.  My focus has to shift to God. He even comes before my wants for my husband and son. That is hard.

This break, I have wrestled with God. Big things were pulled out and shown to me. Large arguments occurred and I did not want to submit. I didn't want to say that I may not know what is best for me. I don't want to say that, but by slowly submitting and learning to put myself second, I am seeing that my anxiety and stress level is greatly reduced. I still struggle. The thought of waiting patiently FREAKS me out, and I am scared that in two weeks I will have to go through all of this again. I am a slow learner.

Are  you a planner? Or did you once have a plan? Is it getting between you and God? Are there things you desire that are creating a road block in your spiritual growth? Are you in the midst of a wrestling match? 16, 26, 36, 46, 56, 66, 76 or 86, we are all winging it. Join me in working on waiting patiently. I could use the encouragement and would love to encourage you.