On Saturday I had a moment where I felt truly content and happy. It was a sunny day, we went to the park, had a lovely dinner and I felt good. It was a type of happiness that I hadn't felt since Teddy died. As soon as I felt it, I begin to panic. If I felt this happy, then something awful was waiting.
The last time I felt that good, was a sunny spring day. I had coffee with my Mom, planned the nursery, and Justin and I headed to the doctor. As we waited for the doctor, we planned out how to announce what the gender of our baby was. How we would paint Harrison's hands and have him hold them up to the camera. We discussed a summer that would be spent creating a nursery and how we would manage raising two boys. The world felt perfect, and then it fell apart.
I don't trust happiness anymore. That is what I learned on Saturday. Happiness leads to fear. I actually wondered how I would be punished for feeling happy. What bad thing would happen? My counselor and I have chatted about this before. How it is normal, and a form or PTSD. How it will ease over time. How my anxiety disorder amplifies it, and how it will eventually ease.
This fear eats at me. It gnaws at my ability to sleep, and adds to my list of faults. I am scared of life. Anxious about the future. Drugs help, sleep helps, talking helps, prayer helps, but it doesn't go away. Sometimes, I think this must mean my faith is too small. My belief too weak, my heart to hard. How can I claim to have faith in God and be so scared? If I believe that God has a plan, why do I fear moments when I feel content in that plan? Why I am so weak and my faith so small?
I am human. I am weak. I am scared. I am anxious, and overwhelmed. Life hasn't been smooth and easy. Happiness is scary. Bad things happen, but that doesn't mean I don't have faith. I have faith that I won't always feel this way. I have faith that God will help. I have support, and I will find a way to trust in happiness again.
Monday, November 10, 2014
Sunday, November 2, 2014
You are still loved and you can come home.
I never grasped the importance of the parable of the Prodigal Son, until I was the prodigal. I drifted far from God's love, and I believed that I couldn't find my way back. I was positive that I had made too many choices, committed too many sins, drifted too far from God's grasp. This type of thinking is a poison that is used to keep us in captivity. It keeps us trapped and far from happiness and peace and it isn't true.
Where are you right now? What lie do you believe that is keeping from starting on the path of healing? As we age, our choices can begin to weigh down us. Feeling the sting of disappointments, the realization that you aren't where you thought you would be, that you aren't the parent or spouse you thought you would be, your continued failures are nails in the coffin. You are stuck here. There is no hope. You must see through the choice you made.
I know someone who got married quite young. This person entered into their marriage with a deep commitment to their spouse and God. They believed in marriage. After awhile, it became clear that their spouse had anger issues and could be emotionally abusive. Mood swings and deceit were countered with overwhelming acts of love and new declarations of change. My friend didn't really let the outside world see what was happening. Then one night, they came to my door and told me they didn't know what to do. They couldn't imagine having children with a person who was so broken, but they also felt that divorce wasn't an option. As a couple they had been to counseling, but nothing had changed. Recently they had found out that their spouse had cheated on them. This person felt that if they got divorced, they were breaking away from God's plan. That the act of divorce would shame them and their family. That neither God nor their family could forgive them.
I would love to say that I gave them great advice, but I was too young to even begin to understand the ramifications of this persons pain. I just let them cry. Six months later, they poured their heart out to their parents, who assured them of their love, invited them to come home, and helped them begin divorce proceedings. That person is now happily married to a loving spouse.
I don't tell this story to condone divorce, but to show that God's love is bigger than his laws. No, he doesn't want us to get divorced, but neither does he want us to stay in dangerous and unhealthy situations. My friend could have stayed married to their abuser. They could have had children and exposed them to the abuse. Who knows what the situation would have escalated to? Thank God, they trusted their parents enough to confess. Thank God, their parents showed them how God's love works.
"For I am convinced that neither life, nor death, neither angels or demons, neither present or future, or any power in heaven or earth can separate us from God's love" Romans 8:9. Paul was a murderer, so was David, Peter denied Christ three times, Moses, who had performed countless miracles, struck the rock, and they were all used for the glory of God. There is no place too far, no sin too great, no time too long to keep us from His love. Don't believe the lie. God takes you right now, right as you are. He will challenge you to change. He will push you to be better, but your struggle to do so will not determine His love for you. That was demonstrated on the cross.
Who are the people that are there for you no matter what? Who are the people that want to be there, but you have pushed away in anger and fear? They are in your life to help you. They are God's way of reminding you of His love. You are loved, and you can go home. You are not alone. At this moment, God is opening doors and provided you an escape. If you need to leave a current living situation, if you have to confess and addiction, if you have to let go of anger and resentment, if you have to go back to those you hurt and ask for forgiveness, if it is bigger and you need to leave your spouse or remove yourself from something else, step out in faith and do it. I don't know how it will work out, but it will .
I pray that you find your way out of your stuck place. That you realize you don't have to measure up to a love freely given. That you know who to turn to support you. That your family and friends can surround you and lift you up. That you realize that your worth isn't measured by the choices you made, but by the gifts He gives. You are loved. Reach out, and come home.
Where are you right now? What lie do you believe that is keeping from starting on the path of healing? As we age, our choices can begin to weigh down us. Feeling the sting of disappointments, the realization that you aren't where you thought you would be, that you aren't the parent or spouse you thought you would be, your continued failures are nails in the coffin. You are stuck here. There is no hope. You must see through the choice you made.
I know someone who got married quite young. This person entered into their marriage with a deep commitment to their spouse and God. They believed in marriage. After awhile, it became clear that their spouse had anger issues and could be emotionally abusive. Mood swings and deceit were countered with overwhelming acts of love and new declarations of change. My friend didn't really let the outside world see what was happening. Then one night, they came to my door and told me they didn't know what to do. They couldn't imagine having children with a person who was so broken, but they also felt that divorce wasn't an option. As a couple they had been to counseling, but nothing had changed. Recently they had found out that their spouse had cheated on them. This person felt that if they got divorced, they were breaking away from God's plan. That the act of divorce would shame them and their family. That neither God nor their family could forgive them.
I would love to say that I gave them great advice, but I was too young to even begin to understand the ramifications of this persons pain. I just let them cry. Six months later, they poured their heart out to their parents, who assured them of their love, invited them to come home, and helped them begin divorce proceedings. That person is now happily married to a loving spouse.
I don't tell this story to condone divorce, but to show that God's love is bigger than his laws. No, he doesn't want us to get divorced, but neither does he want us to stay in dangerous and unhealthy situations. My friend could have stayed married to their abuser. They could have had children and exposed them to the abuse. Who knows what the situation would have escalated to? Thank God, they trusted their parents enough to confess. Thank God, their parents showed them how God's love works.
"For I am convinced that neither life, nor death, neither angels or demons, neither present or future, or any power in heaven or earth can separate us from God's love" Romans 8:9. Paul was a murderer, so was David, Peter denied Christ three times, Moses, who had performed countless miracles, struck the rock, and they were all used for the glory of God. There is no place too far, no sin too great, no time too long to keep us from His love. Don't believe the lie. God takes you right now, right as you are. He will challenge you to change. He will push you to be better, but your struggle to do so will not determine His love for you. That was demonstrated on the cross.
Who are the people that are there for you no matter what? Who are the people that want to be there, but you have pushed away in anger and fear? They are in your life to help you. They are God's way of reminding you of His love. You are loved, and you can go home. You are not alone. At this moment, God is opening doors and provided you an escape. If you need to leave a current living situation, if you have to confess and addiction, if you have to let go of anger and resentment, if you have to go back to those you hurt and ask for forgiveness, if it is bigger and you need to leave your spouse or remove yourself from something else, step out in faith and do it. I don't know how it will work out, but it will .
I pray that you find your way out of your stuck place. That you realize you don't have to measure up to a love freely given. That you know who to turn to support you. That your family and friends can surround you and lift you up. That you realize that your worth isn't measured by the choices you made, but by the gifts He gives. You are loved. Reach out, and come home.
Friday, October 31, 2014
Happy Birthday
Dear Teddy,
Today was supposed to be the day that we finally held you. We should be in the hospital straining to bring you into this world. Family and friends should be excitedly waiting for news of your birth. Before the day is done, your Dad and I should be able to hold you in our arms. That wasn't God's plan.
Today I sit in quiet, devoting the morning to you. Tonight our house will be filled with crazy toddlers and snuggly babies ready to Trick or Treat, and I will love every moment of it, but there will also be moments when I miss you. When I imagine you and Sadie and Wyatt sharing the friendship your brothers have and cry a bit. However, I don't want your life to be about me crying. Your short 18 weeks mean more than that. Birthdays are about celebrations and counting your blessings. Today of all days, I want to pause and tell you how you have made me a better Mom, Wife, Daughter, Sister and Friend. I want to Thank You for all you have brought to my life, and to thank God for the precious time we had together.
You have taught me to slow down. Before your death, I subscribed to the cult of busy. I thought that being busy meant I was important, or doing my job. Now I know that it is a form of selfishness. If I am too busy to love and appreciate my family and friends, to see my students as humans, to spend time with my Heavenly Father, then I am not really engaging in life. I am avoiding it. Your illness and death made me stop. All of time stopped and I had to learn that busy isn't what I want to be. Loving, giving, and living is who I want to be.
You have taught me to depend on God for all of my needs. I thought that I was in control, but I wasn't. Life can change in a moment, but God is constant. His love never changes. He is always with us.
You have taught me that it is ok to vulnerable. I hated looking weak. I would hold thing in and not share what I was really feeling. You gave me the gift of vulnerability. The inability to even express what I was feeling meant that I was utterly dependent on those I love. They embraced me, buoyed me, uplifted me, overwhelmed me with their love. I now know that love and friendship are bigger, deeper things than I can comprehend, and am so thankful to be able engage in them.
You have shown me sides of your father I was unaware of. In our 13 years, I never know the capacity for love, grief, compassion, and giving he had. You have brought these out in him. He is a different person as well. Our marriage has changed. Our bond is deeper. You will always be our baby. You will be with us forever. When we both say goodbye to this world, the three of us will be buried together. It seems morbid, but you have deepened our love in ways we never could have.
You have made me appreciate all of your brother's moments. Harrison would have loved playing with you. He loves babies, and you would have been his baby. He is such a silly, lovable, compassionate, whirlwind of a boy. You have made me more present with him. You have taught me to pour more love onto him. You gave me the clarity to stop being torn between my professional life and my desire to mother. You have given your brother a better mother. Someday, I will try to find a way to explain to him.
You have shown me that all things are possible through God who strengthens us. When we found out you were sick, I didn't think I would make it. I wanted to curl up and die with you. As I lay in bed crying, you kept kicking and kicking, reminding me that you were God's child before mine. I sit here today because of the gift of perfect grace and perfect love. Without God, I wouldn't have gotten out of bed, and that would have been a horrid way to honor your life. With God, I am daily learning and pushing to share love, struggling to give forgiveness, working on offering grace and humbly accepting that the purpose of my life is to share God's love. That is a much better way to honor your life.
I will always miss you, will always long for you, will always want to hold you, but know that I am so thankful for you. The blessing of being your mother is worth all of it and more. The gifts you have brought into my life have blessed me 1,000 times over. Someday we will be reunited and together we will turn to praise the Giver of All Life, until then know that I love you, I miss you and I am so utterly thankful for you.
Love Mom.
Today was supposed to be the day that we finally held you. We should be in the hospital straining to bring you into this world. Family and friends should be excitedly waiting for news of your birth. Before the day is done, your Dad and I should be able to hold you in our arms. That wasn't God's plan.
Today I sit in quiet, devoting the morning to you. Tonight our house will be filled with crazy toddlers and snuggly babies ready to Trick or Treat, and I will love every moment of it, but there will also be moments when I miss you. When I imagine you and Sadie and Wyatt sharing the friendship your brothers have and cry a bit. However, I don't want your life to be about me crying. Your short 18 weeks mean more than that. Birthdays are about celebrations and counting your blessings. Today of all days, I want to pause and tell you how you have made me a better Mom, Wife, Daughter, Sister and Friend. I want to Thank You for all you have brought to my life, and to thank God for the precious time we had together.
You have taught me to slow down. Before your death, I subscribed to the cult of busy. I thought that being busy meant I was important, or doing my job. Now I know that it is a form of selfishness. If I am too busy to love and appreciate my family and friends, to see my students as humans, to spend time with my Heavenly Father, then I am not really engaging in life. I am avoiding it. Your illness and death made me stop. All of time stopped and I had to learn that busy isn't what I want to be. Loving, giving, and living is who I want to be.
You have taught me to depend on God for all of my needs. I thought that I was in control, but I wasn't. Life can change in a moment, but God is constant. His love never changes. He is always with us.
You have taught me that it is ok to vulnerable. I hated looking weak. I would hold thing in and not share what I was really feeling. You gave me the gift of vulnerability. The inability to even express what I was feeling meant that I was utterly dependent on those I love. They embraced me, buoyed me, uplifted me, overwhelmed me with their love. I now know that love and friendship are bigger, deeper things than I can comprehend, and am so thankful to be able engage in them.
You have shown me sides of your father I was unaware of. In our 13 years, I never know the capacity for love, grief, compassion, and giving he had. You have brought these out in him. He is a different person as well. Our marriage has changed. Our bond is deeper. You will always be our baby. You will be with us forever. When we both say goodbye to this world, the three of us will be buried together. It seems morbid, but you have deepened our love in ways we never could have.
You have made me appreciate all of your brother's moments. Harrison would have loved playing with you. He loves babies, and you would have been his baby. He is such a silly, lovable, compassionate, whirlwind of a boy. You have made me more present with him. You have taught me to pour more love onto him. You gave me the clarity to stop being torn between my professional life and my desire to mother. You have given your brother a better mother. Someday, I will try to find a way to explain to him.
You have shown me that all things are possible through God who strengthens us. When we found out you were sick, I didn't think I would make it. I wanted to curl up and die with you. As I lay in bed crying, you kept kicking and kicking, reminding me that you were God's child before mine. I sit here today because of the gift of perfect grace and perfect love. Without God, I wouldn't have gotten out of bed, and that would have been a horrid way to honor your life. With God, I am daily learning and pushing to share love, struggling to give forgiveness, working on offering grace and humbly accepting that the purpose of my life is to share God's love. That is a much better way to honor your life.
I will always miss you, will always long for you, will always want to hold you, but know that I am so thankful for you. The blessing of being your mother is worth all of it and more. The gifts you have brought into my life have blessed me 1,000 times over. Someday we will be reunited and together we will turn to praise the Giver of All Life, until then know that I love you, I miss you and I am so utterly thankful for you.
Love Mom.
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
A note to my husband
Dear Justin,
Today is International Infant Loss Day. My counselor has called to ensure I am fine, and the women who I speak to in my support group have shared their stories. My grief is validated and recognized, but yours has been marginalized or put aside for me.
A majority of people easily identify my loss and my pain. My physical appearance changed. My pain was obvious. The amount of resources and reminders of love I receive are huge. Four months later, people still stop to ask how I am.
I don't see the same support given to you. I know you will say that I need it. That you want me to have help and support, and that you didn't experience Teddy's death in the same way. Society tells me that Dads heal faster and are impacted less, but I know that isn't true.
I know that in the midst of of trying to be there for me, your heart was shattered. I know that you dreamed of holding our little man and had already committed a large part of your heart to him. I know that you still speak to him. That you miss him. That your grief is as large as mine.
You have bravely shouldered the burden of your own grief, and allowed me to fall apart. You have held my hand while I learn to put myself back together again. When the world was too much, you shielded me from it, but when it was time, you encouraged me to start living again.
Together we found a way to arrange cremation and choose an urn. Holding hands, we brought him home. For the rest of our lives, he will be our baby. When we are old and gray, and I break down over a half century old loss, you will understand and hold me. Together we are figuring out this new life, this new reality. Together we will manage the questions of more children, improved health and healing.
The loss of our son has changed everything about our lives, including my love for you. I had no idea that I could love you more. That you could make me this proud. That you could love me this much. Seven years ago we swore to love one another "for better or worse", and we had no idea what "worse" meant.
Today is International Infant Loss, and we are one in four parents who lost their child. We grieve together, we heal together, we hope together. I wish that you never had to feel this, that your heart was never broken, that you never had to grieve. I know that I couldn't have come this far without you, and I rest in the knowledge that whatever may come we can face it together.
I Love You,
Juli Ann
Today is International Infant Loss Day. My counselor has called to ensure I am fine, and the women who I speak to in my support group have shared their stories. My grief is validated and recognized, but yours has been marginalized or put aside for me.
A majority of people easily identify my loss and my pain. My physical appearance changed. My pain was obvious. The amount of resources and reminders of love I receive are huge. Four months later, people still stop to ask how I am.
I don't see the same support given to you. I know you will say that I need it. That you want me to have help and support, and that you didn't experience Teddy's death in the same way. Society tells me that Dads heal faster and are impacted less, but I know that isn't true.
I know that in the midst of of trying to be there for me, your heart was shattered. I know that you dreamed of holding our little man and had already committed a large part of your heart to him. I know that you still speak to him. That you miss him. That your grief is as large as mine.
You have bravely shouldered the burden of your own grief, and allowed me to fall apart. You have held my hand while I learn to put myself back together again. When the world was too much, you shielded me from it, but when it was time, you encouraged me to start living again.
Together we found a way to arrange cremation and choose an urn. Holding hands, we brought him home. For the rest of our lives, he will be our baby. When we are old and gray, and I break down over a half century old loss, you will understand and hold me. Together we are figuring out this new life, this new reality. Together we will manage the questions of more children, improved health and healing.
The loss of our son has changed everything about our lives, including my love for you. I had no idea that I could love you more. That you could make me this proud. That you could love me this much. Seven years ago we swore to love one another "for better or worse", and we had no idea what "worse" meant.
Today is International Infant Loss, and we are one in four parents who lost their child. We grieve together, we heal together, we hope together. I wish that you never had to feel this, that your heart was never broken, that you never had to grieve. I know that I couldn't have come this far without you, and I rest in the knowledge that whatever may come we can face it together.
I Love You,
Juli Ann
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Sometimes it is really hard
Sometimes it is really hard to power through. My iron was down so low that I had to drink an infusion on Tuesday. This means that I constantly feel like taking a nap, or sleeping all day, or just staying in bed for the rest of my life. Exhaustion is a hard battle, and knowing that your exhaustion is a lingering side effect of losing your baby is harder. Taking a step backwards in your body's healing the same month that said baby was due feels impossible.
It is as if my body knows that we should be preparing for a baby to arrive on Halloween, and is doing its best to act like it is as tired as someone who is nine months pregnant. Overall, this was a rough week. I wanted to give up, I wanted to be upset and mad, I wanted to wallow in my own sorrow, but God challenged me to be more loving. To increase my giving, to reach out to more students, to pray for those I am struggling to forgive, to offer grace to those hurt me, to bring love into each moment of my day.
When I am exhausted, I do not feel like being loving. I feel like being crabby. I feel like shutting down. I feel like I don't want to do what I am being called to do, but God is showing me that the only way to spiritually mature and do what He is calling me to do is to lean on Him. I am tired, but if I am willing He will give me the energy I need. If I say "yes God", He will rejuvenate and revive me. If I say, I can't do it without you, then He says "I wouldn't want you too".
Here in the month of October, the time I have dreaded since June. The due date that never was and the son who isn't coming grief and bitterness could overwhelm my heart and soul, but God is calling me to love. He is telling me to reach out my husband daily, to send messages of hope, to take an extra minute with that student and encourage that coworker. He is telling me to create an environment of hope for my students, and to tell my Mama how much I am thankful for her. He is taking a time that could be dark and selfish and showing me that the only way to heal is through love.
"Beloved, lets us love one another, for love is of God and anyone who loveth is born of God and knoweth God, he that loveth not, knoweth not God for God is love" 1 John 4:7 God is love. God is my only path to healing and He is love. It is a love that I as a human and incapable of on my own. My physical exhaustion alone would make me too cranky to want to love anyone.
Love and heal. Feeling bitter and tired? Find someone to pour love on. Angry and exhausted? Seek out a person to uplift. Confused and sad? Take a moment to pray for someone you know is struggling. Feeling alone and grieved? Connect with your husband and son. Practicing love is keeping me from shrinking into a bitter shrewish person. It isn't easy. In fact it is impossible. I can only do it through Christ who strengthens me, and whose love is greater than I can fathom. Please pray for me to continue to turn to love and reject bitterness. Pray for strength and healing. Pray for peace and contentment. Pray that those who interact with me will see Christ's love. Pray that I will continue to grow and learn. Please pray. I will pray for you too.
It is as if my body knows that we should be preparing for a baby to arrive on Halloween, and is doing its best to act like it is as tired as someone who is nine months pregnant. Overall, this was a rough week. I wanted to give up, I wanted to be upset and mad, I wanted to wallow in my own sorrow, but God challenged me to be more loving. To increase my giving, to reach out to more students, to pray for those I am struggling to forgive, to offer grace to those hurt me, to bring love into each moment of my day.
When I am exhausted, I do not feel like being loving. I feel like being crabby. I feel like shutting down. I feel like I don't want to do what I am being called to do, but God is showing me that the only way to spiritually mature and do what He is calling me to do is to lean on Him. I am tired, but if I am willing He will give me the energy I need. If I say "yes God", He will rejuvenate and revive me. If I say, I can't do it without you, then He says "I wouldn't want you too".
Here in the month of October, the time I have dreaded since June. The due date that never was and the son who isn't coming grief and bitterness could overwhelm my heart and soul, but God is calling me to love. He is telling me to reach out my husband daily, to send messages of hope, to take an extra minute with that student and encourage that coworker. He is telling me to create an environment of hope for my students, and to tell my Mama how much I am thankful for her. He is taking a time that could be dark and selfish and showing me that the only way to heal is through love.
"Beloved, lets us love one another, for love is of God and anyone who loveth is born of God and knoweth God, he that loveth not, knoweth not God for God is love" 1 John 4:7 God is love. God is my only path to healing and He is love. It is a love that I as a human and incapable of on my own. My physical exhaustion alone would make me too cranky to want to love anyone.
Love and heal. Feeling bitter and tired? Find someone to pour love on. Angry and exhausted? Seek out a person to uplift. Confused and sad? Take a moment to pray for someone you know is struggling. Feeling alone and grieved? Connect with your husband and son. Practicing love is keeping me from shrinking into a bitter shrewish person. It isn't easy. In fact it is impossible. I can only do it through Christ who strengthens me, and whose love is greater than I can fathom. Please pray for me to continue to turn to love and reject bitterness. Pray for strength and healing. Pray for peace and contentment. Pray that those who interact with me will see Christ's love. Pray that I will continue to grow and learn. Please pray. I will pray for you too.
Sunday, September 28, 2014
Pray for Me, and I'll Pray for You
Being a Mama is hard work. We are all in unique situations that call upon everything we have to guide our children through life. We need our husbands, partners, and families with us, but there is no support like fellow Mama support. I have been blessed to be able help found a Moms group, and the women in it have been my life line. I am not sure that I would have survived the first month of Teddy's death if they hadn't of come over and sat by a smoky fire with me. We barely discussed his death, but they were there and that was enough. Too many Mamas feel alone and overwhelmed, and they don't have to. God has a special place in his heart for Mamas. He is here to love us, support us, and uplift us. While I know this to be true, sometimes I just need to know someone else gets it. Therefore I am asking all of you, my other Mamas, to pray for me and I will pray for you. I believe we can change not only our and our children's lives, but large groups of people praying has the power to change the world. Here is my prayer for all of you:
Dear Mama who is staying at home and putting her whole being into to her children. I pray that you have the patience and strength to get through the day. That the poop covered crying times are balanced out by the silly dancing laughing times. That God blesses your sacrifice and your children understand what you are doing for them. I pray that you are able to carve out time to replenish and renew and reconnect with your husband.
Dear Mama whose baby just flew the nest, I pray that you have the faith and strength to fully trust God with the life of your child. I pray that as they discover themselves, you will discover more and more reasons to be proud. That new opportunities and joys will follow you into this new chapter and you will be blessed with the realization that all of those hard days shaped this amazing young man or woman you have now let go of. That you and your husband rediscover how fun just two can be, and that you find joy in your new freedom.
Dear Mama with a young infant. I pray that you know this won't last forever. The sleepless nights, colicky days, and frustrating feedings will pass. You will find yourself again. I pray you know that it is normal to feel scared and mourn the pre-Mom you, and that you will find your footing and your joy and love for this precious gift will only grow. That you will know that you are good enough, and that your husband will be by your side changing and growing with you.
Dear Mama who works, I pray that you find the strength to manage the pressure of two full time jobs. That you will learn to lean on your support system when it becomes too much, and feel pride at the fact that you are helping to support your family. I pray that you find peace in the hard choices and avoid the trap of trying to please everyone. That God will bless your hard work and sacrifice and your children will blossom and grow in their daycare. That you and your husband can prioritize together time and you have the energy to find fun in each day.
Dear Mama who is raising her kids alone, You are my hero. As a child of a single mother, I know your days are long, money is tight, and stress is high. I pray that you can lean on Jesus, that your family will be wrapped in love and support and that you will know that you have the strength to go on. That with you and God, your babies will be fine, and that you will reap the rewards of this hard time. I pray for comfort for your pain, and that you feel peace for your future. You don't have to hang on so hard, let go, God has got your back.
Dear Mama who is raising her grandkids, I pray that God provides guidance and healing as you maneuver the complicated situation that is your relationship with your child and your grandchildren. I pray that God opens every ones eyes to the truth, and leads the powers that be to the best plan for those children. That you will be able to find peace in God's plan, and know that he will give you the physical, mental, and emotional strength to parent when you weren't expecting to. I pray for healing in your family and for you to know that your very presence is demonstrating God's love in your grandchildren's lives.
Dear Mama who is still parenting her adult children, I pray that you know how thankful we are for you, and how much we still need you. That your wisdom and presence are often more important now than it was before. That you know that you gave us the tools to be successful, and the wisdom to ask for help. That you find joy in your grandchildren and peace in your children's lives.
Dear Mama whose babies are in heaven. I pray that you find comfort in God's arms. That you find a way to move on with your day and keep breathing. That you and your husband turn towards one another for healing, and that bitterness and anger are banished from your heart. That you find peace in the pain, and are able to understand that every day is new day with different emotions. Most of all I pray that you are able to look forward to the day that you and your child are reunited in the halls of heaven.
Dear Mama who has children in her heart but hasn't been able to have them. I pray that God reaches out to comfort you, and that your are able to submit to his plan. That you and your husband are able to honestly discuss your options and prayerfully choose the path that is best for you. That when your arms ache and your heart break that God provides a comforter to help you through this terrible journey, and that if it is God's plan for you to have a child that it all comes together in his time.
I pray for all the Mamas, that they have strength, patience, hope, perseverance, joy, love and faith. This isn't an easy job, but a little prayer can make all the difference. I will keep praying for you, please keep praying for me!
Dear Mama who is staying at home and putting her whole being into to her children. I pray that you have the patience and strength to get through the day. That the poop covered crying times are balanced out by the silly dancing laughing times. That God blesses your sacrifice and your children understand what you are doing for them. I pray that you are able to carve out time to replenish and renew and reconnect with your husband.
Dear Mama whose baby just flew the nest, I pray that you have the faith and strength to fully trust God with the life of your child. I pray that as they discover themselves, you will discover more and more reasons to be proud. That new opportunities and joys will follow you into this new chapter and you will be blessed with the realization that all of those hard days shaped this amazing young man or woman you have now let go of. That you and your husband rediscover how fun just two can be, and that you find joy in your new freedom.
Dear Mama with a young infant. I pray that you know this won't last forever. The sleepless nights, colicky days, and frustrating feedings will pass. You will find yourself again. I pray you know that it is normal to feel scared and mourn the pre-Mom you, and that you will find your footing and your joy and love for this precious gift will only grow. That you will know that you are good enough, and that your husband will be by your side changing and growing with you.
Dear Mama who works, I pray that you find the strength to manage the pressure of two full time jobs. That you will learn to lean on your support system when it becomes too much, and feel pride at the fact that you are helping to support your family. I pray that you find peace in the hard choices and avoid the trap of trying to please everyone. That God will bless your hard work and sacrifice and your children will blossom and grow in their daycare. That you and your husband can prioritize together time and you have the energy to find fun in each day.
Dear Mama who is raising her kids alone, You are my hero. As a child of a single mother, I know your days are long, money is tight, and stress is high. I pray that you can lean on Jesus, that your family will be wrapped in love and support and that you will know that you have the strength to go on. That with you and God, your babies will be fine, and that you will reap the rewards of this hard time. I pray for comfort for your pain, and that you feel peace for your future. You don't have to hang on so hard, let go, God has got your back.
Dear Mama who is raising her grandkids, I pray that God provides guidance and healing as you maneuver the complicated situation that is your relationship with your child and your grandchildren. I pray that God opens every ones eyes to the truth, and leads the powers that be to the best plan for those children. That you will be able to find peace in God's plan, and know that he will give you the physical, mental, and emotional strength to parent when you weren't expecting to. I pray for healing in your family and for you to know that your very presence is demonstrating God's love in your grandchildren's lives.
Dear Mama who is still parenting her adult children, I pray that you know how thankful we are for you, and how much we still need you. That your wisdom and presence are often more important now than it was before. That you know that you gave us the tools to be successful, and the wisdom to ask for help. That you find joy in your grandchildren and peace in your children's lives.
Dear Mama whose babies are in heaven. I pray that you find comfort in God's arms. That you find a way to move on with your day and keep breathing. That you and your husband turn towards one another for healing, and that bitterness and anger are banished from your heart. That you find peace in the pain, and are able to understand that every day is new day with different emotions. Most of all I pray that you are able to look forward to the day that you and your child are reunited in the halls of heaven.
Dear Mama who has children in her heart but hasn't been able to have them. I pray that God reaches out to comfort you, and that your are able to submit to his plan. That you and your husband are able to honestly discuss your options and prayerfully choose the path that is best for you. That when your arms ache and your heart break that God provides a comforter to help you through this terrible journey, and that if it is God's plan for you to have a child that it all comes together in his time.
I pray for all the Mamas, that they have strength, patience, hope, perseverance, joy, love and faith. This isn't an easy job, but a little prayer can make all the difference. I will keep praying for you, please keep praying for me!
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Life is random and unfair; Life is pandemonium
Someone I love dearly told me that they were having a rough time today. "I don't get why you didn't get to have your baby and other people, who won't or can't care for their children properly, do." It was hard for this person, because they love us. Faced with the reality not all children have a safe home, and not all parents are mentally or emotionally able to care for their children, it does seem very unfair that our baby died. I have played this game before, and the results are always bitterness and misery.
The plain and simple truth is isn't fair. My heart breaks every time I hear stories of abuse or neglect. I don't understand why it happens, or why we aren't the parents of more than one child. I cry, but I hold on to God's promise. "And we know in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28. This verse doesn't say "in the easy or fair things" it says "in all things."
In ALL the horrible, painful, dirty, ugly, mind blowing, heart breaking, grief giving, pain inducing, anger creating, I am broken things, God is working towards our good. We can't see it. At times it can feel the opposite. "God, I just started to feel better and now this." I don't understand how it will all work for my good. I can't see the big picture. I am not entitled to that knowledge.
Teaching middle school means dealing with the concept of "fair" a lot. It is an age where "fair" means something, and students are attempting to put order to the grown up world. Daily I find myself saying "same doesn't equal fair" and "my job is to help everyone learn in their way. Their way may not be your way." Students don't see the big picture. They don't know that their classmate witnessed the death of their Grandmother and needs to be excused from the work they missed, or that this other student reads at a second grade level and is mortified. Each child has individual needs and stories and I can't treat them the same. I have to push the TAG kid to exceed while praising another student for persevering to a Nearly Meets.
When this happens, I feel the same amount of pride. When students persevere and keep working and learning, I know that they are working towards a bright future. For some that may mean the Ivy League and for others it may mean that they are able to overcome the developmental or emotional issues they are carrying and live a happy life. It is my job to challenge each of them to grow towards their personal best.
I believe this is how God looks at us. He knows our hearts. He knows how I long for my child, and how my heart will never quite heal. He hears me crying and is pushing me to persevere towards his plan. Fair doesn't equal the same. I may never have more children, and other children will be hurt. I may never know why this is, and I don't need to. What I need to know is that all things, no matter what they are, work together for the good of those who love him. It is not easy. This is hard, but by the grace of God I will find a way to keep repeating it, embracing it, and believing it. His plan, not mine. His glory, not mine. His life, not mine.
The plain and simple truth is isn't fair. My heart breaks every time I hear stories of abuse or neglect. I don't understand why it happens, or why we aren't the parents of more than one child. I cry, but I hold on to God's promise. "And we know in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28. This verse doesn't say "in the easy or fair things" it says "in all things."
In ALL the horrible, painful, dirty, ugly, mind blowing, heart breaking, grief giving, pain inducing, anger creating, I am broken things, God is working towards our good. We can't see it. At times it can feel the opposite. "God, I just started to feel better and now this." I don't understand how it will all work for my good. I can't see the big picture. I am not entitled to that knowledge.
Teaching middle school means dealing with the concept of "fair" a lot. It is an age where "fair" means something, and students are attempting to put order to the grown up world. Daily I find myself saying "same doesn't equal fair" and "my job is to help everyone learn in their way. Their way may not be your way." Students don't see the big picture. They don't know that their classmate witnessed the death of their Grandmother and needs to be excused from the work they missed, or that this other student reads at a second grade level and is mortified. Each child has individual needs and stories and I can't treat them the same. I have to push the TAG kid to exceed while praising another student for persevering to a Nearly Meets.
When this happens, I feel the same amount of pride. When students persevere and keep working and learning, I know that they are working towards a bright future. For some that may mean the Ivy League and for others it may mean that they are able to overcome the developmental or emotional issues they are carrying and live a happy life. It is my job to challenge each of them to grow towards their personal best.
I believe this is how God looks at us. He knows our hearts. He knows how I long for my child, and how my heart will never quite heal. He hears me crying and is pushing me to persevere towards his plan. Fair doesn't equal the same. I may never have more children, and other children will be hurt. I may never know why this is, and I don't need to. What I need to know is that all things, no matter what they are, work together for the good of those who love him. It is not easy. This is hard, but by the grace of God I will find a way to keep repeating it, embracing it, and believing it. His plan, not mine. His glory, not mine. His life, not mine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)