Day 10 of 31 Days of Healing and joining up at Kate's for Five-Minute Friday, a flash-mob of writing for 5 minutes on a given prompt every Friday. Come join us!
Word of the week: Care
GO
Some days I find it really hard to take care of myself. I stay up later than I should, wake up long before my alarm goes off, and then fall asleep on the couch as soon as I walk in the door after work. Some days I find it hard to eat, or find myself eating everything in sight (as long as it's unhealthy). I'm still struggling with the whole exercise thing, though I have made some progress (twice a week is better than zero, right?), and if my husband wasn't so outspoken about personal hygiene I would probably go days between showers sometimes.
What makes me keep going through the motions? What makes me try to take care of this body that betrayed me and killed my children (yes, I am being a bit melodramatic there, but only slightly)? I have to keep reminding myself of these truths:
1. My husband expects me to take care of myself. I know he will ask me when he gets home from work about what I ate today, whether or not I exercised, and I better have taken a shower and brushed my teeth or I'm sleeping on the couch!
2. My big girl needs her Mama. As much as I wish some days that I could just lie down and die and go be with my tiny babies, I know I could never do that to my June Bug. seeing her anxiety and pain when I was on bed rest and in the aftermath of losing Mikayla when she was worried I was going to die made me realize how how important it is to carry on for her sake.
3. My little ones would want their Mama to take care of herself. In loving my body while Mikayla and Selah were with me, I was loving them by extension. I shouldn't do any less now that they are gone. I can still love the body that was the only home they ever knew on earth.
4. My future babies (D.V.) depend on me being healthy. If I give in to my desires and let my body fall into decay, I am only hurting my chances of having healthy babies some day in the future. I need to do the best I can to be the healthiest home for my babies so that they might (with the help of God) be able to live in my womb long enough that they can also live in my arms.
5. My God has given me this body as a gift, and it is the temple of the Holy Spirit. I am called to care for what God has given me and use it for His glory to the best of my ability.
So while I am tempted to just give up and not care and let myself get fat and lazy and sick, I will fight it. I will do my best to take care of this body God has given me for however long He sees fit to let me live in it, and then I will welcome the new body and new life He will give.
STOP (Actually I lost track of time, so that may have been more than minutes)
Showing posts with label Mess. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mess. Show all posts
Friday, October 10, 2014
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Day 5: Triggers
This morning I watched my beautiful June Bug sing on a stage, and she did such such an amazing job. Then they brought up the preschoolers to sing. It brought back memories of June Bug's first of such concerts, when she was 2 and got up on stage with her preschool class for their Christmas concert and proceeded to cry through the whole thing with her fingers in her mouth.
It also brought something else. The reminder that I won't get those memories for Mikayla, or for Selah.
In church this morning there were 2 different couples I knew were bringing their tiny babies to church, with everyone crowding around the car seats to coo over the sweet little bundles of joy, as I felt like a boulder had been dropped onto my stomach because those happy moments were ripped from my life.
Then tonight I was watching A Little Princess with June Bug, and when the main character said that her Mama was in heaven along with her baby sister it was all I could do to hold back the blubbering, knowing it was only by the grace of God that June Bug could only relate to half of that statement.
I don't know how long the rawness will last, or how often the scabs of my heart will be ripped off before the new skin finally grows back, leaving only the scar. Some days are better than others, and sometimes I am fine seeing pregnant women, tiny babies, etc. while other times something as simple as two sisters fighting in the supermarket can send me into all-out panic mode,
I am praying that God would work in my heart to help me count my blessings whenever the ugly green jealousy monster shows up. I am praying that He would help me overcome the envy and fill me up with love. I am praying that God would help me to cherish the moments I have with June Bug, without worrying that she may never get a sister or brother here on earth. I am praying that God would keep my heart soft and stop the pain from fermenting into bitterness, but rather blossom it into love and compassion for others.
I can't stop the triggers from itching at my heart, but I can choose to look for the beauty and goodness of the Lord in all things, and to rejoice with those who rejoice even in the midst of my mourning.
And I will leave you with a poem:
Loved and Lost
Better to have loved and lost?
Even if your heart gets buried and crushed
Under the weight of snow and frost
In the winter of heartache where all joys are hushed?
Even if your heart gets buried and crushed
And all that remains are fragments and dust?
In the winter of heartache where all joys are hushed,
The naked trees whisper of Spring bound to come.
But all that remains are fragments and dust
And a shadow of a shell of a ghost.
Still the naked trees whisper of Spring bound to come,
"Better to have loved and lost!"
It also brought something else. The reminder that I won't get those memories for Mikayla, or for Selah.
In church this morning there were 2 different couples I knew were bringing their tiny babies to church, with everyone crowding around the car seats to coo over the sweet little bundles of joy, as I felt like a boulder had been dropped onto my stomach because those happy moments were ripped from my life.
Then tonight I was watching A Little Princess with June Bug, and when the main character said that her Mama was in heaven along with her baby sister it was all I could do to hold back the blubbering, knowing it was only by the grace of God that June Bug could only relate to half of that statement.
I don't know how long the rawness will last, or how often the scabs of my heart will be ripped off before the new skin finally grows back, leaving only the scar. Some days are better than others, and sometimes I am fine seeing pregnant women, tiny babies, etc. while other times something as simple as two sisters fighting in the supermarket can send me into all-out panic mode,
I am praying that God would work in my heart to help me count my blessings whenever the ugly green jealousy monster shows up. I am praying that He would help me overcome the envy and fill me up with love. I am praying that God would help me to cherish the moments I have with June Bug, without worrying that she may never get a sister or brother here on earth. I am praying that God would keep my heart soft and stop the pain from fermenting into bitterness, but rather blossom it into love and compassion for others.
I can't stop the triggers from itching at my heart, but I can choose to look for the beauty and goodness of the Lord in all things, and to rejoice with those who rejoice even in the midst of my mourning.
And I will leave you with a poem:
Loved and Lost
Better to have loved and lost?
Even if your heart gets buried and crushed
Under the weight of snow and frost
In the winter of heartache where all joys are hushed?
Even if your heart gets buried and crushed
And all that remains are fragments and dust?
In the winter of heartache where all joys are hushed,
The naked trees whisper of Spring bound to come.
But all that remains are fragments and dust
And a shadow of a shell of a ghost.
Still the naked trees whisper of Spring bound to come,
"Better to have loved and lost!"
Monday, September 29, 2014
The Hurricane of Grief
I know a lot about hurricanes. I have lived the past 7 years on an island that is vulnerable to hurricanes, so I have had to become educated about them. I have learned that along with the high winds and heavy rains, storm surge is an often overlooked danger during a storm - the fact that the ocean water will rise up higher than normal, which when coupled with heavy rains causes additional flooding. I have also learned that in addition to the well-known "eye," the rain and winds in a hurricane come in "bands." There will be times when the wind is gentle and the rain sprinkling, followed by pouring rain and thrashing winds, over and over in a pattern.
I feel like my experience with Mikayla and Selah has been very much like a hurricane. When I began bleeding with Mikayla, it was like when the weather forecasters see a storm forming way out in the ocean. At that point everyone is wondering which direction it will really go. Will it come right at us for a direct hit? Will it miss us entirely, or fizzle out before it hits land? Or will it skirt by us giving us lots of wind and rain, but leave us with little or no damage?
With my hospitalization and my water breaking, it was looking more certain that the storm was coming our way. There were still no guarantees - we've seen several hurricanes that looked like they would hit us dead-on that have curved at the last minute and spared us. It was time to fill up the pantry, batten down the hatches, and put up the shutters. In spiritual terms, it meant filling up on gospel truths and God's faithful promises, and sending up prayers and petitions.
When I went into labor at not quite 22 weeks, I knew the storm was centered right on us. With a hurricane, this would be the time to fill up the bathtub and sinks and all available containers with water, and pull out the candles and flashlights. With a stillbirth, this was a time of crying out to God to spare me if possible, and to fill me with His presence and His light to bring me through the storm and its aftermath.
Just like the wind and rains, the grief comes in waves and bands. It will ease up for a bit, and then out of the blue hit me like a tree branch and knock me on my knees.
Not everyone in a hurricane will pass through the eye. Only where the hurricane passes directly over will there be a true calm in the midst of the storm. They say the most dangerous part of a hurricane is directly after the eye passes. The reason for this is two-fold. First, the strongest winds are in the eyewall just behind the eye of the storm, and second, some people will be lulled into a false sense of security by the calm blue skies outside as the eye is passing over, and they will venture out of their shelters and begin assessing the damage that has been done only to be caught unaware by the remainder of the storm.
My pregnancy with Selah was a bit like being in the eye of the storm. I could see the sun shining outside, and blue sky peeking through the clouds. Thankfully I knew enough to stay inside my shelter of the Almighty's arms even during this calm. I did not let the prayers stop, or give up on feasting on the Word of God.
When the eyewall hit of losing Selah, it was a double grief. A grief for the loss of another precious baby, and the loss of the calm and hope I had experienced during those weeks I knew Selah was with us.
I am now passing through the back side of the storm. I don't know how much longer it will be until it passes over. The grief is still coming in bands, some stronger, some calmer. My heart is still being battered and bruised.
But I know I will make it through the storm. Because my life is built on a firm foundation, and is capped with God's mighty hand, it will not fall. Even before hurricane season, when building a house where hurricanes may blow, they must be built on a firm foundation, with proper construction and a strong roof to withstand the winds and the rain and the surge. Without that foundation, the house would be washed away.
Clinging to my rock.
I feel like my experience with Mikayla and Selah has been very much like a hurricane. When I began bleeding with Mikayla, it was like when the weather forecasters see a storm forming way out in the ocean. At that point everyone is wondering which direction it will really go. Will it come right at us for a direct hit? Will it miss us entirely, or fizzle out before it hits land? Or will it skirt by us giving us lots of wind and rain, but leave us with little or no damage?
With my hospitalization and my water breaking, it was looking more certain that the storm was coming our way. There were still no guarantees - we've seen several hurricanes that looked like they would hit us dead-on that have curved at the last minute and spared us. It was time to fill up the pantry, batten down the hatches, and put up the shutters. In spiritual terms, it meant filling up on gospel truths and God's faithful promises, and sending up prayers and petitions.
When I went into labor at not quite 22 weeks, I knew the storm was centered right on us. With a hurricane, this would be the time to fill up the bathtub and sinks and all available containers with water, and pull out the candles and flashlights. With a stillbirth, this was a time of crying out to God to spare me if possible, and to fill me with His presence and His light to bring me through the storm and its aftermath.
Just like the wind and rains, the grief comes in waves and bands. It will ease up for a bit, and then out of the blue hit me like a tree branch and knock me on my knees.
Not everyone in a hurricane will pass through the eye. Only where the hurricane passes directly over will there be a true calm in the midst of the storm. They say the most dangerous part of a hurricane is directly after the eye passes. The reason for this is two-fold. First, the strongest winds are in the eyewall just behind the eye of the storm, and second, some people will be lulled into a false sense of security by the calm blue skies outside as the eye is passing over, and they will venture out of their shelters and begin assessing the damage that has been done only to be caught unaware by the remainder of the storm.
My pregnancy with Selah was a bit like being in the eye of the storm. I could see the sun shining outside, and blue sky peeking through the clouds. Thankfully I knew enough to stay inside my shelter of the Almighty's arms even during this calm. I did not let the prayers stop, or give up on feasting on the Word of God.
When the eyewall hit of losing Selah, it was a double grief. A grief for the loss of another precious baby, and the loss of the calm and hope I had experienced during those weeks I knew Selah was with us.
I am now passing through the back side of the storm. I don't know how much longer it will be until it passes over. The grief is still coming in bands, some stronger, some calmer. My heart is still being battered and bruised.
But I know I will make it through the storm. Because my life is built on a firm foundation, and is capped with God's mighty hand, it will not fall. Even before hurricane season, when building a house where hurricanes may blow, they must be built on a firm foundation, with proper construction and a strong roof to withstand the winds and the rain and the surge. Without that foundation, the house would be washed away.
Clinging to my rock.
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.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
Just Tired
Feeling overwhelmed today. It's hot. So hot. My house is a mess. The kitchen sink is full of dishes and smells like something died in there (maybe something did?). I am still battling the roaches that decided to move into my kitchen when I had to move into bed and hubby had to move into temporary mom mode.
I feel like a rubber band stretched almost to the breaking point, ready to snap at whatever tries to stretch me the slightest bit more. Too often that is my husband. Or June Bug. Thankfully she is still young enough to think Mommy hung the moon, and forgives quickly when Mama snaps. And thankfully despite our many storms, he is still sticking it out, walking beside me as both of us looking desperately for the sun through the clouds.
I feel like my emotions have only two settings right now: off, or everything. Sometimes I go through the motions numb and half-sleep-walking through my day, just biding my time until I can crawl into bed at the end of the day. Other days the pain is welling up all through the day, tears threatening to spill out at the slightest provocation. Evening is when I let myself fall apart. Sometimes I sit at my computer while hubby is at work and June Bug is sleeping and I just weep.
I feel like a rubber band stretched almost to the breaking point, ready to snap at whatever tries to stretch me the slightest bit more. Too often that is my husband. Or June Bug. Thankfully she is still young enough to think Mommy hung the moon, and forgives quickly when Mama snaps. And thankfully despite our many storms, he is still sticking it out, walking beside me as both of us looking desperately for the sun through the clouds.
I feel like my emotions have only two settings right now: off, or everything. Sometimes I go through the motions numb and half-sleep-walking through my day, just biding my time until I can crawl into bed at the end of the day. Other days the pain is welling up all through the day, tears threatening to spill out at the slightest provocation. Evening is when I let myself fall apart. Sometimes I sit at my computer while hubby is at work and June Bug is sleeping and I just weep.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Sea Glass Heart
We live on an island. Paradise. I have always loved the ocean, and feel so blessed to live in the midst of it now. On our beaches you won't find many shells, mostly coral. But you can find sea glass. Since we lost Mikayla I have been collecting sea glass.
I have always been fascinated by sea glass. How the ocean takes something so ugly and sharp as a broken beer bottle (which is where most sea glass comes from) and turns it into a shiny, smooth, beautiful thing.
The process isn't easy for the glass, though. It gets thrown around, beat up, and pieces of it rubbed clean off. It has to go through the nitty-gritty sand. It braves the storms and gets tossed around by the waves before it washes up on shore a thing of beauty to reflect the light of the sun.
It reminds me of what God does with our hearts. He took us when we were ugly sharp sinners, and is ever smoothing out our rough places and shining us up until one day we will shine like gems for Him in heaven. The process isn't easy. It involves a lot of hurt and tearing away of things we held dear, and wild stormy waves.
But in the end, He makes all things beautiful in His time.
I have always been fascinated by sea glass. How the ocean takes something so ugly and sharp as a broken beer bottle (which is where most sea glass comes from) and turns it into a shiny, smooth, beautiful thing.
The process isn't easy for the glass, though. It gets thrown around, beat up, and pieces of it rubbed clean off. It has to go through the nitty-gritty sand. It braves the storms and gets tossed around by the waves before it washes up on shore a thing of beauty to reflect the light of the sun.
It reminds me of what God does with our hearts. He took us when we were ugly sharp sinners, and is ever smoothing out our rough places and shining us up until one day we will shine like gems for Him in heaven. The process isn't easy. It involves a lot of hurt and tearing away of things we held dear, and wild stormy waves.
But in the end, He makes all things beautiful in His time.
Friday, May 23, 2014
Walls
Face of Stone
This castle I've built up for so many years was built to keep you out. I cannot let you in. I cannot let you see the doubt, the fear, the pain, the sin. All you see is this faceless face of stone that protects me from the winds, but in the end the sun and rain still fall inside although I hide myself from you.You cannot scale these walls,
You cannot break them down,
For you they will not fall,
They cannot speak a sound.
Sometimes I wish and dream I had not built these walls, I wish that I could scream and let these dry tears fall. I wish that I could let you in to let you heal my pain, my sin, but these walls are too thick and I've built them too tall for any, save one, to come in.
You cannot scale these walls,
You cannot break them down,
For you they will not fall,
They cannot speak a sound.
This one long ago defied the very gates of Hell. I know that only He can break me down, destroy these clumsy walls I've built, and make me new again. The one-in-three, it's only He can open up my heart.
He can scale these walls,
He can break them down,
Triumphant He'll come in,
And raze them to the ground,
And set me free from me to be whomever He desires,
Oh bring your fires,
Oh conquering hero, come.
Five Minute Friday: Close
Writing for 5 minutes on the topic "close"
GO:
How can someone be so close and yet so far away? He is right there beside me. I can reach out and touch him, kiss him, hug him. And yet there is a million-mile gulf between us. A gulf filled with the ugliness of our sins toward each other. Our selfishness. Our anger. Our impatience. Our self-absorbed self-righteousness.
How can someone be so far and yet so close? She is in heaven. She is beyond the reach of my hands, my kiss, my sight. And yet, she is so close to my heart. She is in my every thought. She is held near and dear and beloved and sorely missed.
How do I bridge the gulf? How do I fill the gaping hole in my heart?
Only by holding Jesus close. Jesus, hold me close. Never let me go.
STOP
Friday, May 2, 2014
Five Minute Friday: Mess
I've been lurking on Lisa-Jo Baker's sight for a while now, and today I decided to jump right in and join the 5 minute Friday crowd and start a blog of my own. So here goes:
Mess
I feel like my whole life is mess right now. I am a mess. My emotions are a mess. All of my wonderful plans for the coming years have turned into one big mess.
Financially, I'm a mess. Behind on payments on my student loans, and almost nothing left in my checking account.
Professionally, I'm a mess. My current job is not renewing my contract, and I haven't found a new job yet and am losing hope that I will ever be gainfully employed again.
Emotionally, I am a mess. My daughter Mikayla was born straight to heaven 2 weeks and 5 days ago. I no longer have an answer for "How are you?" I don't even know. I still exist, I think. But I have no idea how I am. Everything is a tangled mess.
My house is a mess. I was on bed rest and in and out of the hospital for the past 2 months, and husbands never really keep things the way they should, but to be honest things weren't the way they should have been even before that because let's face it: I'm lazy. And now my attention span is about 20 seconds on each task and I never finish anything.
My marriage is a mess. My husband and I are both stressed about all the other messes, and instead of putting our shoulders together and cleaning up the steaming piles of messes together, we have been throwing them at each other.
Mess.
Please, God. Rescue me from the mess. Wash my mess in your blood and bring me out the other side with your white robes of holiness. Thank you for loving me when all I have to offer you is my mess.
(Ok, so I cheated a little and took 8 minutes, but I didn't go back to edit anything, just couldn't stop at the 5 minutes because it needed some hope)
Mess
I feel like my whole life is mess right now. I am a mess. My emotions are a mess. All of my wonderful plans for the coming years have turned into one big mess.
Financially, I'm a mess. Behind on payments on my student loans, and almost nothing left in my checking account.
Professionally, I'm a mess. My current job is not renewing my contract, and I haven't found a new job yet and am losing hope that I will ever be gainfully employed again.
Emotionally, I am a mess. My daughter Mikayla was born straight to heaven 2 weeks and 5 days ago. I no longer have an answer for "How are you?" I don't even know. I still exist, I think. But I have no idea how I am. Everything is a tangled mess.
My house is a mess. I was on bed rest and in and out of the hospital for the past 2 months, and husbands never really keep things the way they should, but to be honest things weren't the way they should have been even before that because let's face it: I'm lazy. And now my attention span is about 20 seconds on each task and I never finish anything.
My marriage is a mess. My husband and I are both stressed about all the other messes, and instead of putting our shoulders together and cleaning up the steaming piles of messes together, we have been throwing them at each other.
Mess.
Please, God. Rescue me from the mess. Wash my mess in your blood and bring me out the other side with your white robes of holiness. Thank you for loving me when all I have to offer you is my mess.
(Ok, so I cheated a little and took 8 minutes, but I didn't go back to edit anything, just couldn't stop at the 5 minutes because it needed some hope)
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