I know it's not Friday, and it will take a bit more than 5 minutes, but I felt this message on my heart this afternoon and just had to share, and since it fit with this week's theme I decided to link up anyway :).
GOOD
GO:
We say that God is good. We say taste and see that the Lord is good. This time last year I had a hard time seeing or tasting the goodness of God as I was seeing nothing but darkness and tasting nothing but bitter tears.
I was questioning why a good God who had conquered death would still allow my beautiful beloved daughter to die before she even got the chance to be born.
This afternoon I was looking through a photo album and found a snapshot of June Bug. She was only about 18 months old, and was sitting in a kitchen cabinet (she had emptied the contents onto the floor), arms crossed, pacifier in her mouth, and such a look of anger and hurt on her face. You see, she had been betrayed.
Earlier that day I had taken my little girl to the doctor to get her vaccinations. I remember holding her on my lap while the nurse jabbed a needle into one chunky little thigh, and then having to hold her even tighter against her struggles and wails as the process was repeated on the other side. She continues to cry as we left the doctor and drove home, and the first thing she did when we got home was to empty out that cabinet and close herself inside, sobbing to herself.
In the toddler mind of June Bug, she had been betrayed. The Mommy who said she loved her little girl, who said she would kiss boo-boos away, who sang lullabies and read bedtime stories, had just held her down and allowed some mean woman to jab needles into both her legs. She was mad. She was hurt. She did NOT want to see Mommy, or talk to Mommy, or have anything to do with Mommy.
In her mind, Mommy was no longer good.
In my mind, God was no longer good.
But June Bug grew. She grew and learned and developed, and when she was four years old it was time for more vaccinations. This time around I was able to explain to her that it was for her own good. That even though the shots would hurt, they would protect her from getting sicknesses that could hurt her much more. I explained that Mommy didn't want to let her hurt, but this hurt would only be small and for a short time, where the sicknesses could cause big hurts for a long time. This time she sat calmly on my lap, and only winced a bit when the needles went in, and then smiled at the Dora band-aids and stickers she was given, the pain of the shots melted away.
I also grew. I grew and learned and developed spiritually. Though I still don't understand the whole plan of why God allowed the pain of losing first Mikayla and then Selah, I do know that my pain does not remove His goodness or love. I know that it hurts Him to see me suffer just as it hurt me to hear June Bug's wails. I know that He want nothing more than to have me run to Him so He can scoop me up in His arms and comfort me, just as I wanted to do with June Bug. Yet so often I go and hide in my cabinet, pouting and sobbing about how unfair it all is while He waits outside ready to shower me with love.
I have opened the cabinet. I have run into those everlasting arms. I trust that one day He will wipe away every tear from my face. I can once again taste and see that the Lord is good. My trials and pain are not bigger than His love. My limited understanding of the reasons does not mean the reasons are bad or wrong.
God IS good.
Showing posts with label Change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Change. Show all posts
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Making Room for Joy
Since Mikayla died and was born, I can count on one hand the moments I have felt truly happy without a cloud of fear or anxiety or sadness clouding the moment.
Today, I was given one of those moments.
I was putting June Bug to bed with our nightly routine: shower, pjs, brush teeth, drink of water, bedtime story, prayers, hugs and kisses, and lights out. We were snuggled on the bed together and I was reading a chapter of Betsy-Tacy - a book I enjoyed as a child - on our tablet. I was holding the tablet resting its end on my lower belly, when I felt it. Baby was kicking! Baby was kicking at the tablet!
Now I have felt things that I thought might have been baby earlier on, and the other day I felt a few distinct flutters that I knew had to be baby, but this was different - vibrant, strong movements without a shadow of a doubt caused by little arms and legs exploring this thing that was pressed up against their home. I told June Bug about it, and we both enjoyed some giggles at the thought.
It was only later, when I had finished the chapter, said our prayers, and turned off the light that I realized how pure a moment of joy it had been. I was also able to remember feeling Mikayla kick at June Bug's musical teddy bear without the overwhelming feeling of acute grief, but rather a fond memory with just a hint of sadness.
I know there will still be days of weeping and pain. I know it will still be a long journey, but I do feel like I have turned a corner somehow. Like I have crawled far enough down the tunnel that I can actually see a glimpse of the brilliant light waiting for me up ahead.
I am learning to make room for joy again. And it feels good.
Today, I was given one of those moments.
I was putting June Bug to bed with our nightly routine: shower, pjs, brush teeth, drink of water, bedtime story, prayers, hugs and kisses, and lights out. We were snuggled on the bed together and I was reading a chapter of Betsy-Tacy - a book I enjoyed as a child - on our tablet. I was holding the tablet resting its end on my lower belly, when I felt it. Baby was kicking! Baby was kicking at the tablet!
Now I have felt things that I thought might have been baby earlier on, and the other day I felt a few distinct flutters that I knew had to be baby, but this was different - vibrant, strong movements without a shadow of a doubt caused by little arms and legs exploring this thing that was pressed up against their home. I told June Bug about it, and we both enjoyed some giggles at the thought.
It was only later, when I had finished the chapter, said our prayers, and turned off the light that I realized how pure a moment of joy it had been. I was also able to remember feeling Mikayla kick at June Bug's musical teddy bear without the overwhelming feeling of acute grief, but rather a fond memory with just a hint of sadness.
I know there will still be days of weeping and pain. I know it will still be a long journey, but I do feel like I have turned a corner somehow. Like I have crawled far enough down the tunnel that I can actually see a glimpse of the brilliant light waiting for me up ahead.
I am learning to make room for joy again. And it feels good.
Saturday, November 8, 2014
FmF: Turn your eyes upon Jesus
Joining 5 minute Friday for 5 minutes of free-writing on the word: TURN
GO.
Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face, and the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.
Yesterday my boss started a meeting with a devotional (I work in a Christian workplace) about trusting. It said we often fail to trust because we want answers, we want to feel in control, and we want to know what is coming next. It also said the Holy Spirit in our hearts can help us turn to Jesus and think trusting thoughts.
It definitely hit close to home, because one of my biggest struggles these past 7 months has been finding the balance between faith and action. I tell myself I trust God, but I long for and search for answers. I say I trust God, but I also look for another doctor who I can trust. I want to TRUST God, but I want to DO something to avoid future pain.
My prayers today have turned 180. I am not praying for answers or action plans today. I am praying that the Holy Spirit would help me to turn my eyes upon Jesus.
GO.
Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face, and the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.
Yesterday my boss started a meeting with a devotional (I work in a Christian workplace) about trusting. It said we often fail to trust because we want answers, we want to feel in control, and we want to know what is coming next. It also said the Holy Spirit in our hearts can help us turn to Jesus and think trusting thoughts.
It definitely hit close to home, because one of my biggest struggles these past 7 months has been finding the balance between faith and action. I tell myself I trust God, but I long for and search for answers. I say I trust God, but I also look for another doctor who I can trust. I want to TRUST God, but I want to DO something to avoid future pain.
My prayers today have turned 180. I am not praying for answers or action plans today. I am praying that the Holy Spirit would help me to turn my eyes upon Jesus.
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Day 24 and FMF: Dare
Day 24 of 31 Days of Healing, and Five Minute Friday
I realize it is Saturday, the 25th, and I am behind. My husband unexpectedly has a week off work, so I have been making the most of it to spend time with him and haven't gotten to blog the past few days.
So here goes, 5 minutes of free-writing on the word Dare.
GO:
When I was a kid, I would always choose the dare. I was fearless. I was the one who rode her bike down the biggest hills, feet not even on the pedals, skidding to a stop, heart pounding, with a grin plastered on my face.
Then something changed. I became the reserved one, always playing it safe. Always cautious and following the rules to the letter.
I've begun to find my daring side again. I guess after losing something so important to you, that you love so much, that hurts so hard, and seeing that you CAN still breathe, everything else loses the scariness.
Well, almost everything - I have become more fearful of June Bug's health and safety. Losing her would be the only thing more painful than losing Mikayla and Selah.
But everything else - financial trouble, issues at work, worrying about what people might think. None of those things matter anymore. I will take the Dare and tell it to bring its worst, because it can't touch the depths of what I have already faced.
STOP.
I realize it is Saturday, the 25th, and I am behind. My husband unexpectedly has a week off work, so I have been making the most of it to spend time with him and haven't gotten to blog the past few days.
So here goes, 5 minutes of free-writing on the word Dare.
GO:
When I was a kid, I would always choose the dare. I was fearless. I was the one who rode her bike down the biggest hills, feet not even on the pedals, skidding to a stop, heart pounding, with a grin plastered on my face.
Then something changed. I became the reserved one, always playing it safe. Always cautious and following the rules to the letter.
I've begun to find my daring side again. I guess after losing something so important to you, that you love so much, that hurts so hard, and seeing that you CAN still breathe, everything else loses the scariness.
Well, almost everything - I have become more fearful of June Bug's health and safety. Losing her would be the only thing more painful than losing Mikayla and Selah.
But everything else - financial trouble, issues at work, worrying about what people might think. None of those things matter anymore. I will take the Dare and tell it to bring its worst, because it can't touch the depths of what I have already faced.
STOP.
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Day 16: Adjusting to the "new normal"
Day 16 of 31 Days of healing, 5-minute free-write on the topic: adjust.
As someone who moved a lot growing up, I am very familiar with change. Living in lots of different countries and cultures, I am very familiar with culture shock. I am familiar with dealing with change, and having to learn to adjust to a new way of life that is different from your old one. Not necessarily worse, not better, but just different.
Grief is somewhat the same way.
I remember after one of our moves when I was 9, I became very angry and hated everything about the new country I was living in. I hated the language they spoke there, the food, the way people dressed, just everything about that country. At the same time, I longed for and idolized my life in my previous home. I missed my old friends, my comfort foods, being able to speak without worrying about saying the wrong thing...
At first as I moved into grief I hated everything about my loss. I hated having conversations about children or babies or motherhood because I was always on the verge of tears. I hated the way my body felt, tired all the time, weak, and flabby. I hated myself for all the would have, could have, should haves. I longed to go back to a time where babies didn't die. At least not my babies. Maybe someone else's, far away. I wanted to go back to feeling strong and womanly, knowing my body was the home of a tiny human.
The thing is, you can't go back. You can only go forward, and the sooner you accept and recognize where you are and who has led you there, the sooner you can pick up the pieces and adjust your attitude and find things to love about the new, different, yes difficult, but also blessed, place you are right now. The sooner you can move on with adjusting to the new normal.
Don't get me wrong, I still miss the days of blissful ignorance before I knew what pPROM and MTHFR were, or that 1 in 4 women will experience some type of baby loss at some point in her life. But I am learning to be content to follow where he leads, and lean on Him for strength for the journey.
As someone who moved a lot growing up, I am very familiar with change. Living in lots of different countries and cultures, I am very familiar with culture shock. I am familiar with dealing with change, and having to learn to adjust to a new way of life that is different from your old one. Not necessarily worse, not better, but just different.
Grief is somewhat the same way.
I remember after one of our moves when I was 9, I became very angry and hated everything about the new country I was living in. I hated the language they spoke there, the food, the way people dressed, just everything about that country. At the same time, I longed for and idolized my life in my previous home. I missed my old friends, my comfort foods, being able to speak without worrying about saying the wrong thing...
At first as I moved into grief I hated everything about my loss. I hated having conversations about children or babies or motherhood because I was always on the verge of tears. I hated the way my body felt, tired all the time, weak, and flabby. I hated myself for all the would have, could have, should haves. I longed to go back to a time where babies didn't die. At least not my babies. Maybe someone else's, far away. I wanted to go back to feeling strong and womanly, knowing my body was the home of a tiny human.
The thing is, you can't go back. You can only go forward, and the sooner you accept and recognize where you are and who has led you there, the sooner you can pick up the pieces and adjust your attitude and find things to love about the new, different, yes difficult, but also blessed, place you are right now. The sooner you can move on with adjusting to the new normal.
Don't get me wrong, I still miss the days of blissful ignorance before I knew what pPROM and MTHFR were, or that 1 in 4 women will experience some type of baby loss at some point in her life. But I am learning to be content to follow where he leads, and lean on Him for strength for the journey.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Day 12: I will Give you Rest
Day 12 of 31 days of healing, joining up with Kate for a 5-minute post on the topic of Rest.
Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
God made the world to function in patterns of waking and resting, day and night, summer and winter.
Go knows so well that we, the people he created, need our rest that he led by example and reserved a day out of every week as the day of rest.
Rest is so very important. And immediately following the loss of Mikayla it was the thing I struggled with the most. I would have a hard time falling asleep, then wake up multiple times every night. I found it hard to take naps. Sunday mornings in particular I was awake by 5am every week, feeling like a bowling ball had been dropped on my belly as I re-lived birthing my sweet girl who had already flown to heaven.
Now I have the opposite problem. Since I got a positive pregnancy test with Selah, I have wanted to sleep all the time. I go to bed early, hit the snooze once or twice every morning, and am ready for a nap when I get home from work pretty much every day. I didn't expect to still feel this way this long after losing Selah, but I still do.
Yes, rest is important, but too much is not good either. I am striving to find the balance between insomnia and constant sleepiness. It's hard.
But ultimately my soul finds rest in God alone, and He is the one that can stir my soul to action. I lean on Him to help me find my way, finding just enough rest under my savior's wings.
Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
God made the world to function in patterns of waking and resting, day and night, summer and winter.
Go knows so well that we, the people he created, need our rest that he led by example and reserved a day out of every week as the day of rest.
Rest is so very important. And immediately following the loss of Mikayla it was the thing I struggled with the most. I would have a hard time falling asleep, then wake up multiple times every night. I found it hard to take naps. Sunday mornings in particular I was awake by 5am every week, feeling like a bowling ball had been dropped on my belly as I re-lived birthing my sweet girl who had already flown to heaven.
Now I have the opposite problem. Since I got a positive pregnancy test with Selah, I have wanted to sleep all the time. I go to bed early, hit the snooze once or twice every morning, and am ready for a nap when I get home from work pretty much every day. I didn't expect to still feel this way this long after losing Selah, but I still do.
Yes, rest is important, but too much is not good either. I am striving to find the balance between insomnia and constant sleepiness. It's hard.
But ultimately my soul finds rest in God alone, and He is the one that can stir my soul to action. I lean on Him to help me find my way, finding just enough rest under my savior's wings.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Day 7: Sore
Day 7 of 31 Days of Healing
Well, since Day 1 when I wrote about needing to exercise more, I have indeed tried to do better with that. Last night I did 20 minutes of Pilates, and boy am I feeling it today! My legs were aching walking up and down the stairs at work, and my arms are protesting any time I lift anything heavier than a pencil today!
But one thing I have noticed since losing Mikayla, is that I find myself getting sore whenever my grief is beginning to bubble up. Even (especially?) if I haven't done any exercise or anything to cause soreness, I feel my shoulders, neck, and upper back getting tense and just aching. I think it is a physical mirror of my emotionally aching heart.
I noticed it was very bad right around Mikayla's due date, and in the beginning it would happen every Saturday afternoon through Sunday morning as I marked another week without my sweet girl. This week I was really sore on Monday even though I didn't work out Sunday or Monday.
I wish I had money to get a massage every time this happens, but instead I try to find the emotions that are building up, and put them into words either here or in my journal, or sometimes just pouring them out in prayer to God. Then I take some time to relax and focus on the many blessing that God has given me. This doesn't completely take away the physical pain, but it does help to ease it, and does wonders for the emotional side of things. Of course, a nice hot shower or a soak in the tub helps, too!
Well, since Day 1 when I wrote about needing to exercise more, I have indeed tried to do better with that. Last night I did 20 minutes of Pilates, and boy am I feeling it today! My legs were aching walking up and down the stairs at work, and my arms are protesting any time I lift anything heavier than a pencil today!
But one thing I have noticed since losing Mikayla, is that I find myself getting sore whenever my grief is beginning to bubble up. Even (especially?) if I haven't done any exercise or anything to cause soreness, I feel my shoulders, neck, and upper back getting tense and just aching. I think it is a physical mirror of my emotionally aching heart.
I noticed it was very bad right around Mikayla's due date, and in the beginning it would happen every Saturday afternoon through Sunday morning as I marked another week without my sweet girl. This week I was really sore on Monday even though I didn't work out Sunday or Monday.
I wish I had money to get a massage every time this happens, but instead I try to find the emotions that are building up, and put them into words either here or in my journal, or sometimes just pouring them out in prayer to God. Then I take some time to relax and focus on the many blessing that God has given me. This doesn't completely take away the physical pain, but it does help to ease it, and does wonders for the emotional side of things. Of course, a nice hot shower or a soak in the tub helps, too!
Monday, September 8, 2014
Welcome to the Roller Coaster!
Well, I don't know where to start so I'll just come out and say it: We're expecting! June-Bug and Mikayla will (Lord Willing) be big sisters in May!
The emotions are all. over. the. place. One minute I am elated and so excited I could burst, and the next I am weeping and fearful and over-analyzing every little twinge.
I have decided that the only way to hang on is to take it day by day. Each morning, I am going to wake up and thank God for another day to carry this precious child. If one morning happens to be my last and this rainbow dissolves in more storm clouds, then so be it. I know where my shelter lies, and He is strong enough to see me through any storm that may come my way.
Either way, this baby will get to live; either with me and his/her father and big sister June Bug; or with Jesus and his/her Heavenly father, and big sister Mikayla.
God is good all the time! All the time, God is good!
The emotions are all. over. the. place. One minute I am elated and so excited I could burst, and the next I am weeping and fearful and over-analyzing every little twinge.
I have decided that the only way to hang on is to take it day by day. Each morning, I am going to wake up and thank God for another day to carry this precious child. If one morning happens to be my last and this rainbow dissolves in more storm clouds, then so be it. I know where my shelter lies, and He is strong enough to see me through any storm that may come my way.
Either way, this baby will get to live; either with me and his/her father and big sister June Bug; or with Jesus and his/her Heavenly father, and big sister Mikayla.
God is good all the time! All the time, God is good!
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Time
I was reading today over at A Bed For My Heart her thoughts about people saying it gets easier with time. I began thinking about time, and the time (though still short) since I joined the club no one wants to join - the bereaved mothers club.
I will say the pain doesn't feel as raw now. It doesn't sting quite as deep. The tears don't flow quite as easily or freely (at least in public - they still flow often and abundantly when I am alone!) as they once did.
I still have days I don't want to face the world, but I am learning to talk myself into doing whatever needs to get done instead of letting myself wallow over-long in my grief. The grief has not gotten any lighter, but I have gotten stronger and better at shifting the weight just so to keep it balanced. My heart and my arms still ache for the little one who should be a week old now, but I am learning to embrace the joy of each day as well.
I definitely wouldn't say it is easy now. I'm not even sure it is easier than it used to be. But I do know for sure that the only way I get through it at all is through Christ who strengthens me. It is often quoting scripture to myself that helps me out of the miry pit of wallowing. In my weakness, He is strong and carries my burdens with and for me when I can't dream of doing it myself. His goodness and mercy have filled my aching heart with joy.
Time alone will never make anything easier. Only sharing my burdens with the one who makes all things beautiful in His time will make them easier to bear. Only finding strength in Christ alone will make me strong enough to make it through. Only driving out the bitterness and anger and replacing them with the peace, joy, and love of God will heal my aching heart.
I will say the pain doesn't feel as raw now. It doesn't sting quite as deep. The tears don't flow quite as easily or freely (at least in public - they still flow often and abundantly when I am alone!) as they once did.
I still have days I don't want to face the world, but I am learning to talk myself into doing whatever needs to get done instead of letting myself wallow over-long in my grief. The grief has not gotten any lighter, but I have gotten stronger and better at shifting the weight just so to keep it balanced. My heart and my arms still ache for the little one who should be a week old now, but I am learning to embrace the joy of each day as well.
I definitely wouldn't say it is easy now. I'm not even sure it is easier than it used to be. But I do know for sure that the only way I get through it at all is through Christ who strengthens me. It is often quoting scripture to myself that helps me out of the miry pit of wallowing. In my weakness, He is strong and carries my burdens with and for me when I can't dream of doing it myself. His goodness and mercy have filled my aching heart with joy.
Time alone will never make anything easier. Only sharing my burdens with the one who makes all things beautiful in His time will make them easier to bear. Only finding strength in Christ alone will make me strong enough to make it through. Only driving out the bitterness and anger and replacing them with the peace, joy, and love of God will heal my aching heart.
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Five Minute Friday: Change
Prompt of the week: Change
GO:
It is amazing how quickly your life can change; how a woman can change from longing and hopeful but scared to hope too much, to ecstatic and filled with love and joy in a matter of seconds when those 2 pink lines pop up on the pregnancy test.
Or how she can change from ecstatic and filled with love and joy and hope, to devastated and broken and wondering how this could have just happened when they can't find a heartbeat.
How a missionary can change from being a doctor helping treat victims of an Ebola crisis to being a patient himself.
How an audience can change from seeing a comedian and laughing alongside him to seeing the ugly depths of depression.
How a young man can change from planning his college career to dead on the sidewalk full of bullets in a matter of 3 minutes.
Yes, life can change in an instant, and never be the same again. There are moments that leave you reeling. Change can rip your heart right out of your chest.
But what each life so desperately needs is a change. A change where the heart of stone melts into a heart of flesh.
What this sad and sin-soaked world needs is a change. A change in each individual's heart that will prompt change in a family, a community, a nation, a planet.
And I rest in knowing that NOTHING can change God's love. Not racism or bullets, not depression or suicide, not illness or disease, not stillbirth or aching hearts. God's love is greater than all of it.
God's love is the only thing that will never change. God's love is the only thing that will ever bring the change that we need.
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