I actually had another post started a couple of weeks ago, but have been unable to finish it. Instead, that one got sent to the "drafts" box, and this one poured out. The following is a list coming from my heart about life with my special guys:
1. Walking behind another mom picking up her four-year-old, I get a little nostalgic...and a little sad. Your gabby little one is telling you all about her day. The friends, the blocks, the special parts of her morning, all in a whirlwind of quick speech and bouncing all over the sidewalk while gripping your hand. My sweet guy runs out of the school, grabs a hold of me, smiles, and hangs on tight. He is too tired to walk, so I get to carry him (perhaps I will eventually have arms like Hulk...my kids aren't so little!). He holds on tight, and I relish the few moments of walking to the Truck, slower than normal, because you and your little one are engaged in conversation.
2. I love Church. A lot. It is the highlight of my week, and more anticipated than I can explain. It also carries some nerves. I don't know if he'll go in. I don't know if he will run, scream, or start thrashing, even though just a few moments ago he was just fine. We have a routine, but sometimes even the schedule of routine isn't enough. We know his teacher's love him, serve him, and want him to join in...it isn't them. It's just Sunday morning, and he is tired from his week, and that is that.
3. I love being outside. Shocking to some, I'm sure, but I love running. I used to take the kids on a walk everyday...sometimes more than one/day, just to be outside or go to the parks that are close. I honestly cannot remember the last time I walked with them. We can't anymore. He runs away, and has no fear of anything. That car that refuses to follow the speed limit threatens my guys' life. He will never be able to stop in time when my guy runs into the street. So we don't go. Controlled park times-we drive, and it is fenced, and I am vigilant at all times are our game, now. I can guarantee I am never the mom too busy on her phone... I am a mom who looks like she is watching an intense game of ping pong, constantly looking for the happy little heads bouncing around the playground, making sure a whim hasn't pulled him away.
4. I used to constantly be on-the-go. Going here and there, going everywhere. (Sorry, my daughter is deeply into Dr. Seuss right now!) No more. I just finally came to the conclusion that I cannot even go to the store with my guy. He just cannot handle it after school. He is too tired, too frayed, and at the first opportunity, he will become the screaming, flailing, Hulk that lives close to the surface, that this momma can barely keep safe. Break. My. Heart.
5. I have hopes and dreams. And those hopes and dreams have had to be turned over to the Lord and offered as a sacrifice. Because they are not His plans. Not for my life, not for my guys' lives, not as a punishment, but as a testimony of His Grace in our lives. Not the type of Grace I was looking for, either. His Grace is abundantly different and better than what I ever wanted, or thought I needed. I wanted "perfect" kids who would grow up and serve Him in the prescribed ways of service...pastors, teachers, missionaries, etc... Now, He may have some of those plans for our little ones, or He may not. ...And frankly, I have to pray each day to trust Him enough to let it be.
This is just a glimpse into my heart...unfortunately there are several more I could add. Honestly, though, I would never in all of eternity, change my life for what I thought I wanted. Sure, you can go to the fundraisers, or a special banquet, and being the mom of a special needs kiddo can seem almost romantic. It is not. For sure. But, as far as I still have to go, I would never be the woman/mom/wife I am today without the Lord's special design for our family. As much as I would wish my guys to wake up one morning with a full vocabulary and understanding of life (ESPECIALLY POTTY TRAINING!!!), that is NOT God's design for us. He has loved me and our family enough to not let it be what I wanted, but what He does. Not awesome, but blessed.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
A Year of Grace
Last night my husband told me today is his dad's birthday. I looked at the date, looked at him, and said, "Yes. Yes it is. Do you remember what we were doing one year ago?" He stared at me, and asked several crazy questions. One year ago his dad was watching three of our kids (on his birthday, Lord bless him!) so we could take Titus in for his three hour diagnostic appointment. "That was ONLY a YEAR ago?!?" was his reply. Yes, one year. One crazy, overwhelming, growing-curve, scary, blessed year ago. In the last year, we've found clothes he will wear, gotten through the tedious paperwork for medicaid and waiver's, started school, gotten through a summer, and found some food he will actually eat. We also pack a wagon in the truck now, because his legs are too weak to walk far. My guy is the one on the ground at school, because the line is too much for him. My guy is the big four-year-old in diapers, because the concept of going to the bathroom is too much for him. My guy yells, screams, and grunts to help his body work properly. And those are just the tip of the iceberg. But, my guy is loved, cherished, and has no idea what the Lord has done in my life because of him.
You see, this year the Lord brought me to my knees in a new and very unexpected way. Not more than a year ago, I was strong. I could handle everything. It might be a little bit tough sometimes, but I "had" it. I never asked for help. I never let my emotions get the better of me. Ever. In college, I started building a wall around my emotions to protect myself from being vulnerable. I was not going to be hurt for crying or being imperfect (Hah! What a joke! I was hurt all the time!). The Lord revealed that my unwillingness to be vulnerable was ugly pride, and this pride was destroying my relationships, our kids, and our marriage. I kept people at arms length, took every sin my kids did as a personal affront, and refused to trust my ever faithful, dedicated and loving husband. All of a sudden, I realized my desperation. I needed help, I needed others, and I was finally willing to ask. I knew I was alienating my older two, and I asked for help. The Lord graciously provided a few ladies to confront my sin, offer solid parenting books to read, and to be Titus 2 women in my life. The Lord did similar, amazing, and miraculous work in our marriage, as He humbled us and gracefully worked in our lives.
The grace in all of this began with Titus. When you are a parent of a special needs child, your pride goes out the window, as they throw it out for you. As they are yelling and screaming in a store because their body has been overwhelmed by stimuli, there are three ways to react. 1. RUN!!!!
2. Look that uninformed, holier-than-thou commenting woman RIGHT in the eye and let her know how you feel, how hard this life is, and how you just need to buy stinking milk..and she SURE didn't ask if she could help! -or- 3. Let the Lord be your vindicator, your helper, your peace. I cannot tell you how many times I've cried to the Lord or Richard and asked why no one ever offers to help. Why do people just stare at me or scold the kids? Why hasn't anyone, ever, just asked if there was a way they could do something...anything? Even if they can DO nothing, would it hurt to ask?? And then came MY test. I watched someone very close to me this past weekend. Her child was a mess. Screaming, yelling, hitting, and being an all-out sinner. Several around her were "encouraging" her child to behave. Then, I looked at her, and I saw ME. She was tired. She had tried all she knew, and had obviously failed. It took me several tries to get her attention (by this point she was desperately trying to block out the voices), and asked if I could help. What can I do? I think she just about cried in relief, instead of frustration...and then she took my offer. The Lord did something amazing in my heart during those moments. He gave me a glimpse at the heart of my friend, and let me see her hurt. Frankly, it was shocking and painful. My friend, with one child, felt the same hurt I feel, and no one had helped her either. How many times have I been the one to "help" scold the child? How many times have I looked past the "least of these" thinking a few words could solve the problem? How prideful am I? Where is my willingness to offer the grace I have so pleaded for? Perhaps I will be a little more aware now.
Being a parent of special needs children is not easy. There is heartache like I could never have imagined. There are fears about some of the smallest things. Walking out the door is literally taking his life in my hands. (We have a walkway and then a parking lot for 40 cars...most of whom think we live at Indy...and he runs the second the door is opened if I don't hold him.) There are also finite views of God's love and grace I could never have seen without him. My love for Titus is fierce and unconditional. There is nothing he can do to make me love him less or love him more. Whether he is kicking and screaming or hugging me so tight I can let go and he doesn't move, I love him. How much greater, deeper, wider, and purer is God's love for us! There are joys over the simplest victory-hearing "yes" instead of "NO!" is a big little from recently. God does delight in each victory we have, and gives aide to obtain the victory! (How cool is that?!?) There is nothing "romantic" about my life. Hopefully, though, His grace is evident through us, in me, and during each moment (especially the ugly).
You see, this year the Lord brought me to my knees in a new and very unexpected way. Not more than a year ago, I was strong. I could handle everything. It might be a little bit tough sometimes, but I "had" it. I never asked for help. I never let my emotions get the better of me. Ever. In college, I started building a wall around my emotions to protect myself from being vulnerable. I was not going to be hurt for crying or being imperfect (Hah! What a joke! I was hurt all the time!). The Lord revealed that my unwillingness to be vulnerable was ugly pride, and this pride was destroying my relationships, our kids, and our marriage. I kept people at arms length, took every sin my kids did as a personal affront, and refused to trust my ever faithful, dedicated and loving husband. All of a sudden, I realized my desperation. I needed help, I needed others, and I was finally willing to ask. I knew I was alienating my older two, and I asked for help. The Lord graciously provided a few ladies to confront my sin, offer solid parenting books to read, and to be Titus 2 women in my life. The Lord did similar, amazing, and miraculous work in our marriage, as He humbled us and gracefully worked in our lives.
The grace in all of this began with Titus. When you are a parent of a special needs child, your pride goes out the window, as they throw it out for you. As they are yelling and screaming in a store because their body has been overwhelmed by stimuli, there are three ways to react. 1. RUN!!!!
2. Look that uninformed, holier-than-thou commenting woman RIGHT in the eye and let her know how you feel, how hard this life is, and how you just need to buy stinking milk..and she SURE didn't ask if she could help! -or- 3. Let the Lord be your vindicator, your helper, your peace. I cannot tell you how many times I've cried to the Lord or Richard and asked why no one ever offers to help. Why do people just stare at me or scold the kids? Why hasn't anyone, ever, just asked if there was a way they could do something...anything? Even if they can DO nothing, would it hurt to ask?? And then came MY test. I watched someone very close to me this past weekend. Her child was a mess. Screaming, yelling, hitting, and being an all-out sinner. Several around her were "encouraging" her child to behave. Then, I looked at her, and I saw ME. She was tired. She had tried all she knew, and had obviously failed. It took me several tries to get her attention (by this point she was desperately trying to block out the voices), and asked if I could help. What can I do? I think she just about cried in relief, instead of frustration...and then she took my offer. The Lord did something amazing in my heart during those moments. He gave me a glimpse at the heart of my friend, and let me see her hurt. Frankly, it was shocking and painful. My friend, with one child, felt the same hurt I feel, and no one had helped her either. How many times have I been the one to "help" scold the child? How many times have I looked past the "least of these" thinking a few words could solve the problem? How prideful am I? Where is my willingness to offer the grace I have so pleaded for? Perhaps I will be a little more aware now.
Being a parent of special needs children is not easy. There is heartache like I could never have imagined. There are fears about some of the smallest things. Walking out the door is literally taking his life in my hands. (We have a walkway and then a parking lot for 40 cars...most of whom think we live at Indy...and he runs the second the door is opened if I don't hold him.) There are also finite views of God's love and grace I could never have seen without him. My love for Titus is fierce and unconditional. There is nothing he can do to make me love him less or love him more. Whether he is kicking and screaming or hugging me so tight I can let go and he doesn't move, I love him. How much greater, deeper, wider, and purer is God's love for us! There are joys over the simplest victory-hearing "yes" instead of "NO!" is a big little from recently. God does delight in each victory we have, and gives aide to obtain the victory! (How cool is that?!?) There is nothing "romantic" about my life. Hopefully, though, His grace is evident through us, in me, and during each moment (especially the ugly).
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Full Hands, Empty Arms, Aching Heart
[For the proverbial record, this is NOT a "woe-is-me" post, or an attempt to get sympathy. My heart's deepest desire is to comfort just one person who is walking this path, and bring glory to the Lord.]
I have started, deleted, and re-started this post several times. Dealing with a subject that can be practically taboo, yet is as emotionally loaded as a two-ton elephant is not easy. That elephant sits in the middle of almost every room with ladies present, yet we stumble around it, not wanting to hurt the hurting, not wanting to be uncomfortable, not wanting to be vulnerable. Yet, with each story comes a path the Lord divinely ordained for us to walk. The glory of our paths is they can be used to help others along their own journey and bring glory to the Father holding each of our lost ones.
My path down this road started last May. As I have blogged in the past, in the middle of studying, papers, quizzes and tests for Biblical Counseling I had my first miscarriage. Several months later, I walked the same road again. The chances of two in a row? Thirty percent. Twenty percent of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. But, the chance of one woman have two in a row is thirty percent. Then, the Lord graced us with another, right around Christmas. I passed the "week" that I had lost the first two, so thought this was it, for sure. Besides, the chances of one woman having three miscarriages in a row is LESS than ONE percent. One. One percent chance of rain? Let's go to the beach, we're good. Serious, it doesn't happen. Yet, it did. This was our David, who I have also blogged about. Now, at this point, I am quite certain some reading might think that I should just cut my losses and run, another biological child was just not for us. I've had to deal with those responses. Not helpful at all in the grieving, praying, understanding process. Our losses did not stop there. One more hope, one more loss.
Apparently, at this point my doctor decided there is something wrong with me. I am shocked by that information... What is truly shocking to me is the amount of women who hurt silently, and the seeming absence of programs (within the Church) set up to help them. I've been working on listening through lectures on Biblical counseling (through NANC), and one of the the lectures was on this subject. The doctor presenting the information said there is a massive need within the church for women to be reached, counseled, and loved through this painful process. I tend to agree with his evaluation. I understand I fall into a group that is set apart as I have a houseful of children, and can "take comfort in them", so my loss may not seem as valid. (Heard this, too.)
So, what now? A little information to share. If you are uncertain, life begins at the very moment of conception. This is a scientific fact, not a hopeful opinion. So if you feel you have no "right" to grieve what was so small, you do, and it is okay. It hurts, so grieve. Second, the Lord is mighty to save, He loves you, and He cares about each Sparrow that falls. If he cares about a tiny little over-populated bird, He cares about the precious life that He now holds in heaven. That is a promise you can take to the bank. Third, grief is a peculiar thing. You don't just come to a point, and then you've "grieved." You'll feel less pain, and then something will happen, and you will lose your breath in utter pain. That is also okay. As long as you do not allow the grief to take over, as long as you do not wallow in despair, grieve. For the most part, I'm good. Occasionally, I'll see a baby, some baby clothes, or receive a formula sample in the mail, and there may or may not be some tears... It is then my response that the Lord is watching. Do I cry out that my life is not fair, or do I bend my knee and heart, letting the Lord know His plan is good, even though it hurts?
In closing, Lamentations 3:22-23 is awesome. For the steadfast love of the Lord endures forever, His mercies never cease; they are new EVERY morning; great is YOUR faithfulness! Verse 24 certainly applies, and personalize it for yourself. Let the Lord be my portion (says my soul), therefore, I WILL hope in Him.
And, my dear sister, you are prayed for and loved.
I have started, deleted, and re-started this post several times. Dealing with a subject that can be practically taboo, yet is as emotionally loaded as a two-ton elephant is not easy. That elephant sits in the middle of almost every room with ladies present, yet we stumble around it, not wanting to hurt the hurting, not wanting to be uncomfortable, not wanting to be vulnerable. Yet, with each story comes a path the Lord divinely ordained for us to walk. The glory of our paths is they can be used to help others along their own journey and bring glory to the Father holding each of our lost ones.
My path down this road started last May. As I have blogged in the past, in the middle of studying, papers, quizzes and tests for Biblical Counseling I had my first miscarriage. Several months later, I walked the same road again. The chances of two in a row? Thirty percent. Twenty percent of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. But, the chance of one woman have two in a row is thirty percent. Then, the Lord graced us with another, right around Christmas. I passed the "week" that I had lost the first two, so thought this was it, for sure. Besides, the chances of one woman having three miscarriages in a row is LESS than ONE percent. One. One percent chance of rain? Let's go to the beach, we're good. Serious, it doesn't happen. Yet, it did. This was our David, who I have also blogged about. Now, at this point, I am quite certain some reading might think that I should just cut my losses and run, another biological child was just not for us. I've had to deal with those responses. Not helpful at all in the grieving, praying, understanding process. Our losses did not stop there. One more hope, one more loss.
Apparently, at this point my doctor decided there is something wrong with me. I am shocked by that information... What is truly shocking to me is the amount of women who hurt silently, and the seeming absence of programs (within the Church) set up to help them. I've been working on listening through lectures on Biblical counseling (through NANC), and one of the the lectures was on this subject. The doctor presenting the information said there is a massive need within the church for women to be reached, counseled, and loved through this painful process. I tend to agree with his evaluation. I understand I fall into a group that is set apart as I have a houseful of children, and can "take comfort in them", so my loss may not seem as valid. (Heard this, too.)
So, what now? A little information to share. If you are uncertain, life begins at the very moment of conception. This is a scientific fact, not a hopeful opinion. So if you feel you have no "right" to grieve what was so small, you do, and it is okay. It hurts, so grieve. Second, the Lord is mighty to save, He loves you, and He cares about each Sparrow that falls. If he cares about a tiny little over-populated bird, He cares about the precious life that He now holds in heaven. That is a promise you can take to the bank. Third, grief is a peculiar thing. You don't just come to a point, and then you've "grieved." You'll feel less pain, and then something will happen, and you will lose your breath in utter pain. That is also okay. As long as you do not allow the grief to take over, as long as you do not wallow in despair, grieve. For the most part, I'm good. Occasionally, I'll see a baby, some baby clothes, or receive a formula sample in the mail, and there may or may not be some tears... It is then my response that the Lord is watching. Do I cry out that my life is not fair, or do I bend my knee and heart, letting the Lord know His plan is good, even though it hurts?
In closing, Lamentations 3:22-23 is awesome. For the steadfast love of the Lord endures forever, His mercies never cease; they are new EVERY morning; great is YOUR faithfulness! Verse 24 certainly applies, and personalize it for yourself. Let the Lord be my portion (says my soul), therefore, I WILL hope in Him.
And, my dear sister, you are prayed for and loved.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
This is NOT the Gospel
Especially this week, I've been taking extra time reading some blogs. To be frank, I've had a hard time handling the intensity of this week, and I was trying to keep my brain busy. Honestly, I should have done the laundry and worked on the memory verses I will be held accountable to on Sunday. Today, I read a post by someone who had a good idea with seemingly really good intent. Almost 250 people had posted comments, mainly positive, about her article. The comments were ultimately passionate, and practically dared others to argue with their Godly stance on life and parenting. There was a part of me that wanted to put my own comments and opinions, and thankfully I took a breath before continuing.
*My opinion is NOT the Gospel.*
This seems pretty obvious, but it appears that most of us (myself included) forget this truth at times. We take our opinions, standards, and convictions and place them as high as the Bible. There is a reason that Paul has several verses on this. We take the convictions we have, and find Biblical basis to start judging others who don't hold our same viewpoint. The internet has made it even easier to do. We can sit and read others' opinions, get all "fired up" and jump on the bandwagon, failing to realize how quickly we become a mob ready to break down the walls of anyone who might see a different side. If you want to test my theory, start a conversation about homeschooling/schooling/public schooling. Five people=five (different) opinions.
Now, I do believe that there are multitudes of good things through other blogs, etc... I have gleaned new perspectives, gotten ideas, and been challenged to grow in my walk with the Lord. There is the need, though, to remember we are only responsible for ourselves before the Lord. You won't agree with everything I do, and I won't agree with everything you might do. If I'm in sin, call me out. If you are worried about a path I'm taking, talk to or even confront me. We all have strong opinions and convictions. These change. The Gospel does not, and that is our guide.
*My opinion is NOT the Gospel.*
This seems pretty obvious, but it appears that most of us (myself included) forget this truth at times. We take our opinions, standards, and convictions and place them as high as the Bible. There is a reason that Paul has several verses on this. We take the convictions we have, and find Biblical basis to start judging others who don't hold our same viewpoint. The internet has made it even easier to do. We can sit and read others' opinions, get all "fired up" and jump on the bandwagon, failing to realize how quickly we become a mob ready to break down the walls of anyone who might see a different side. If you want to test my theory, start a conversation about homeschooling/schooling/public schooling. Five people=five (different) opinions.
Now, I do believe that there are multitudes of good things through other blogs, etc... I have gleaned new perspectives, gotten ideas, and been challenged to grow in my walk with the Lord. There is the need, though, to remember we are only responsible for ourselves before the Lord. You won't agree with everything I do, and I won't agree with everything you might do. If I'm in sin, call me out. If you are worried about a path I'm taking, talk to or even confront me. We all have strong opinions and convictions. These change. The Gospel does not, and that is our guide.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
James Chapter One, Trials Can Be Fun
The title of this post comes from a professor that taught/teaches at Word of Life, to help his students remember the overall themes of each chapter of James. Say it out loud, it rhymes, and there are four more! The reason I bring this up, is that this has seemed to be the theme of our lives for the past year. This week, I listened to Revive Our Hearts, and the topic was one that was of utter horror to me. At the end of Monday's session, the host lady came on and described the sovereignty of God in "difficult circumstances." These circumstances were the upcoming stillbirth of a guests' baby. As I swept my kitchen, anger swelled inside of me in a fast and furious way. "Difficult circumstances?!?" There are many more adjectives that would, in my opinion, better describe the knowledge that your precious child has died just days before her due date. I was mad at the announcer and realized quickly, I was not-so-thrilled with our sovereign Father.
Oh! Who does she think she is? How can you be mad at the King of the Universe? Ummm....I'm a sinner. I know to the church-smiling world (no matter how ugly things are), my confession might bring raised eyebrows (at best). As I caught myself in my anger, I was not proud of myself either. After an entire year of trials, my first reaction was anger. Disappointing to say the least. The announcer and Nancy DeMoss were so quick to point out how much we can learn during the trials of life, and how love in the Lord can blossom. True? Yes. Painful? Ugh. And it hurts SO badly! As they talked, I realized how easy it is to turn a cold heart to others' pain. After all, in a few months, they will look back and see the Hand of God in their lives and rejoice in Him.
I know I sound cynical, and I really do not mean to be, but all of this went through my head within a few moments of time. This past year has been one that I really do not want to repeat again. We have gone through the heights of the depths. Losses of babies, a painful diagnosis for our son, constant transitions, and extreme lows in our marriage. All for what? My good and His Glory. It seems mean to have it be that simple. But it is. God does work all things for good to those who love Him (Romans 8:28-29). By God's grace, He does not want me to be who I was yesterday, but wants me to be more like Him today, tomorrow, and each day until I meet Him face-to-face and am finally shed of this broken, sinful vessel. Throughout this year, He has shown me over and over again that I am not who I once was, but I am not yet who I need to be. Paul's statement of how sinful he was (I Tim. 1:15) makes so much more sense to me now, and frankly, I do not like the knowledge. It means there is more pain ahead if I am to grow in my relationship with Christ. Please, give me more? Every ounce of my human-ness screams "NO!!!!". I would love to think I've grown so much, God will only need some slight things to grow me. Yeah, in my prideful dreams! Maybe the pain of physical loss won't be as intense, but there will be pain. I am not looking forward to the pain in the least. What I am looking forward to is how God will be drawing me ever closer to Him, and will display Himself in love as He graciously shapes me into His image.
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James 1:2-5, 12=Count it all joy, my brothers,[b] when you meet trials of various kinds, 3 for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. 4 And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
5 If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. (v.12)Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.
Oh! Who does she think she is? How can you be mad at the King of the Universe? Ummm....I'm a sinner. I know to the church-smiling world (no matter how ugly things are), my confession might bring raised eyebrows (at best). As I caught myself in my anger, I was not proud of myself either. After an entire year of trials, my first reaction was anger. Disappointing to say the least. The announcer and Nancy DeMoss were so quick to point out how much we can learn during the trials of life, and how love in the Lord can blossom. True? Yes. Painful? Ugh. And it hurts SO badly! As they talked, I realized how easy it is to turn a cold heart to others' pain. After all, in a few months, they will look back and see the Hand of God in their lives and rejoice in Him.
I know I sound cynical, and I really do not mean to be, but all of this went through my head within a few moments of time. This past year has been one that I really do not want to repeat again. We have gone through the heights of the depths. Losses of babies, a painful diagnosis for our son, constant transitions, and extreme lows in our marriage. All for what? My good and His Glory. It seems mean to have it be that simple. But it is. God does work all things for good to those who love Him (Romans 8:28-29). By God's grace, He does not want me to be who I was yesterday, but wants me to be more like Him today, tomorrow, and each day until I meet Him face-to-face and am finally shed of this broken, sinful vessel. Throughout this year, He has shown me over and over again that I am not who I once was, but I am not yet who I need to be. Paul's statement of how sinful he was (I Tim. 1:15) makes so much more sense to me now, and frankly, I do not like the knowledge. It means there is more pain ahead if I am to grow in my relationship with Christ. Please, give me more? Every ounce of my human-ness screams "NO!!!!". I would love to think I've grown so much, God will only need some slight things to grow me. Yeah, in my prideful dreams! Maybe the pain of physical loss won't be as intense, but there will be pain. I am not looking forward to the pain in the least. What I am looking forward to is how God will be drawing me ever closer to Him, and will display Himself in love as He graciously shapes me into His image.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James 1:2-5, 12=Count it all joy, my brothers,[b] when you meet trials of various kinds, 3 for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. 4 And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
5 If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. (v.12)Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.
Friday, January 18, 2013
Anyone Got a Flashlight?
Based on a few events during the last several weeks, I knew I was standing on the edge of the Psalm 23 Valley of the Shadow of Death. So, tongue-in-cheek, I was looking for a flashlight, spot light, or even better, one of those "super-lights to attract people to a big shindig" type of lights. I mean, you want to avoid a shadow, stand by one of those, right? But, no. Nothing can scare away a shadow that the Lord intends you to walk into. Honestly, though, I wanted to avoid that Valley like you wouldn't believe.
If you read my last post, you'll know that between May and Thanksgiving Day, we lost two babies. I had one visit to a doctor that indicated a possibility that I may have been kicked off of the "mommy train," if you know what I mean. So, Richard and I spent some serious time in prayer asking the Lord to bless us with one more. And He did. Richard has this amazing, "we prayed for it, God's gonna bless it" type of attitude at times, and was positive we would have some + signs on those special tests. ;) As I said, we did. I didn't even call the doctor until I had 4 (yes, 4!) from different days, different brands, etc...Well, due to the fact that I now had a history, I was called in to do blood work. It came back positive for Baby, negative for hormone numbers. And to make a tedious story a bit shorter, those numbers just never rose the way they should have. (600, should be 10,000 type of bad...) Moving on, a week ago, we got called in for an ultrasound to see what was going on. Baby was there, but way too small. In the words of the doctor, "cross your fingers and come back next week".
As the week went on, I begged the Lord for our little one, and also begged Him to protect my scarred and weak heart from turning away from Him if He would allow more pain. I also asked Him that if He allowed us to lose the Baby, to not have to go in to our next ultrasound believing there would be a heartbeat. 1 Corinthians 10:13 is not a lie. He knew what I could and could not handle. He knew I needed to walk another path of loss, but could not handle facing the loss at an ultrasound. I had no doubts as we walked in today that our Baby was gone, and probably teasing my precious Grandma with holy shenanigans.
Today, a dear friend made me face our loss by asking what we decided to name our little one. I realized I had been protecting my heart all throughout this roller coaster ride of a pregnancy. (Don't feel bad, the Lord used this to help me, and show me one more way Richard is a God-loving man!) Our little one is David Luke. My husband was a type of David during this pregnancy. He fasted in a way that was (and still is) shocking to me, deciding that David fasted and prayed for his son's life until the Lord took that baby Home. Luke is my favorite Gospel. Ironically, a doctor, and our baby went straight into the Arms of the ultimate Healer.
I never thought that a loss could bring my husband and I closer, or deepen my love and trust of him. Nor did I think I would truly realize the Love of my Savior through the death of my child. I suppose, after all, I don't really need that flashlight. Yea, Though I walk the the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil. For Thou art with me, Thy rod and staff comfort me.
If you read my last post, you'll know that between May and Thanksgiving Day, we lost two babies. I had one visit to a doctor that indicated a possibility that I may have been kicked off of the "mommy train," if you know what I mean. So, Richard and I spent some serious time in prayer asking the Lord to bless us with one more. And He did. Richard has this amazing, "we prayed for it, God's gonna bless it" type of attitude at times, and was positive we would have some + signs on those special tests. ;) As I said, we did. I didn't even call the doctor until I had 4 (yes, 4!) from different days, different brands, etc...Well, due to the fact that I now had a history, I was called in to do blood work. It came back positive for Baby, negative for hormone numbers. And to make a tedious story a bit shorter, those numbers just never rose the way they should have. (600, should be 10,000 type of bad...) Moving on, a week ago, we got called in for an ultrasound to see what was going on. Baby was there, but way too small. In the words of the doctor, "cross your fingers and come back next week".
As the week went on, I begged the Lord for our little one, and also begged Him to protect my scarred and weak heart from turning away from Him if He would allow more pain. I also asked Him that if He allowed us to lose the Baby, to not have to go in to our next ultrasound believing there would be a heartbeat. 1 Corinthians 10:13 is not a lie. He knew what I could and could not handle. He knew I needed to walk another path of loss, but could not handle facing the loss at an ultrasound. I had no doubts as we walked in today that our Baby was gone, and probably teasing my precious Grandma with holy shenanigans.
Today, a dear friend made me face our loss by asking what we decided to name our little one. I realized I had been protecting my heart all throughout this roller coaster ride of a pregnancy. (Don't feel bad, the Lord used this to help me, and show me one more way Richard is a God-loving man!) Our little one is David Luke. My husband was a type of David during this pregnancy. He fasted in a way that was (and still is) shocking to me, deciding that David fasted and prayed for his son's life until the Lord took that baby Home. Luke is my favorite Gospel. Ironically, a doctor, and our baby went straight into the Arms of the ultimate Healer.
I never thought that a loss could bring my husband and I closer, or deepen my love and trust of him. Nor did I think I would truly realize the Love of my Savior through the death of my child. I suppose, after all, I don't really need that flashlight. Yea, Though I walk the the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil. For Thou art with me, Thy rod and staff comfort me.
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