If you've been following me long enough in this little corner of the web, you know a few personal things about me in the "ladies-only" department.
I have PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome).
I've had major surgery for it.
I've had a miscarriage.
I've had some fertility struggles.
I had a medically rough pregnancy for my daughter.
But what you may not know, and what I'd really like to share, is how deeply grateful I am for the part NFP has played in my story. It's NFP Awareness Week, so it's a perfect time to open my heart and these chapters of my life to you.
Ten years ago I was on a hormonal birth control pill to treat a few symptoms I was having in my early twenties. I was somewhat ignorant and accepted the prescription my nurse practitioner gave me, even though she did no testing of my hormones, etc, but simply made a guess and gave me one of the most popular "women's health" prescriptions out there-- hormonal birth control. Why we heap mega doses of synthetic estrogen into women's systems without even testing their estrogen levels and call it healthcare, I'll never know. But I was swept into the current and took my pills faithfully for six months.
Until someone mentioned the Creighton model of NFP and Naprotechnology-- a medical branch of Natural Family Planning based on science but also very faith-friendly. This person suggested that maybe the birth control pills were simply covering up my symptoms without getting to the root of my problem.
I made an appointment with a Naprotechnology doctor, learned the method of charting, and was thoroughly evaluated with labwork, testing, and in-depth evaluation of my chart. As a nurse, I was SO impressed. As a female patient, I felt empowered and dignified with learning more about my unique body's cycle-- and it's abnormalities.
Long story short, I was diagnosed with PCOS, had major surgery for it by a Naprotechnology surgeon, and continued to use Creighton and Napro through the years for my health. Though the surgery greatly improved my health and fertility, nothing quite cures PCOS so we knew there might be some residual effects.
When I got married, we conceived quickly but miscarried our precious child just as quickly. Off to the Napro doctor we went, and he was SO compassionate and competent with my care. The 'regular' OB world doesn't test you for anything until you've had 2-3 miscarriages consecutively. If you've ever had a miscarriage, you know that this would be pure torture to simply 'allow' 1 or 2 more to happen before getting tested. Our Napro doctor acknowledged that we had lost a child and that he would test us right away because who wants to lose more children if you can prevent it??
I was then found to have low progesterone and a funky genetic issue called MTHFR-- both put you highly at risk for miscarriage but are actually easily treatable once you know. With our sweet G, I was on medications for both even before we conceived her to give her the best chance of sticking around this side of heaven. :) I was also on progesterone throughout my pregnancy and monitored frequently. While it was challenging, it was all SO worth it to carry and deliver our healthy baby girl.
Honestly, I don't think I would have her if it would not for God's grace guiding us to Naprotechnology and the Creighton model of NFP.
We continue to use NFP each month, discerning whether God is calling us to postpone or avoid a pregnancy or to be open to it. It's beautiful. And it's hard. Yes, it would be easier to take birth control have a greater sense of control over my body. But did you know hormonal birth control can actually cause an early abortion? Sure, it might be simpler to use a condom rather than "risk" a pregnancy when we don't feel ready for it, or to have to avoid sex that day if we truly aren't in a good place for a pregnancy.
But we took vows on our wedding day to give ourselves to each other freely, totally, faithfully, and fruitfully. And that includes in sex. Freely without reserve. Totally without stamping out our body's natural signs and abilities to be fertile. Faithfully and according to the Catholic Church's teaching. And fruitfully, knowing that to bear fruit of our love is a beautiful thing even when it's hard.
I'm always very open about our journey-- both with fertility struggles and with the reality of using NFP as a married couple. If you have questions or thoughts, feel free to email me!
Happy NFP week!
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Tuesday Talk #29: An Update
Good morning, ladies!
I'm finally emerging from what's been a crazy month! Medically, I've had some discouraging lab results again and even my providers are somewhat stumped with why my progesterone won't rise despite two increases in treatment. Please keep me and baby in your prayers, that my levels will rise and that baby will stay in there until full term! Every week, baby's chances of living outside the womb get better and better, but the thought of preterm labor scares me greatly. Our little one has been so showered with prayers and grace this pregnancy and we feel it! So grateful to all those on earth and in heaven praying for us! Because of the treatment, I have felt quite yucky. Nausea, fatigue, indigestion. Kind of a throwback to the first trimester. I've noticed improvement the past few days, so perhaps my body is getting used to the treatment! We'll see...it's truly in God's hands and I know He loves both me and baby and will take care of us!
With the whole Murphy's Law things, it makes perfect sense that the month I feel bad physically is the month we are way overbooked in our schedule! There have been several times this month my hubby and I looked at each other and said, "how are we going to get through this??" But God is so good and provided the strength and grace we needed to be faithful to our commitments, find rest in between them, and grow closer together because of going through the craziness together! (Although next month we are purposely keeping it very minimally scheduled.)
Our craziest week turned out to be one of the most blessing-filled. We had two nights of my workplace fundraiser banquet (where my husband was the emcee), and three days over an hour away as presenters for a marriage prep retreat for engaged couples (and had to drive home each day because of two other overlapping events!!). Despite some early mornings, some pregnancy carsickness (you've truly reached a new level in your marriage when your husband holds your hair back while you throw up on the side of a country road...which I can laugh about now...), we actually experienced so much grace through the week! The speaker at my work fundraiser was incredibly inspirational (Matt Hammitt from Sanctus Real), and we met some great new friends at the marriage prep weekend and were able to counsel a few of the engaged couples through some different issues they were having. When the whole week was done and we found we were still alive, we grabbed some pizza and the new Star Wars movie (so late to the game, I know) and had an impromptu date night in and reminisced how God had worked through the week in our lives and in others'.
We have a few more things this month, including a wedding this weekend, but our schedule is slowing down and the weather is warming up! It is absolutely gorgeous and I can't get enough of the blooming trees and flowers and sunshine and birds!
What are you up to lately? Give me some comment-love with your highs and lows of the month.
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Join the party, friends, by linking up with your favorite post from the week! Here's the scoop:
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I'm finally emerging from what's been a crazy month! Medically, I've had some discouraging lab results again and even my providers are somewhat stumped with why my progesterone won't rise despite two increases in treatment. Please keep me and baby in your prayers, that my levels will rise and that baby will stay in there until full term! Every week, baby's chances of living outside the womb get better and better, but the thought of preterm labor scares me greatly. Our little one has been so showered with prayers and grace this pregnancy and we feel it! So grateful to all those on earth and in heaven praying for us! Because of the treatment, I have felt quite yucky. Nausea, fatigue, indigestion. Kind of a throwback to the first trimester. I've noticed improvement the past few days, so perhaps my body is getting used to the treatment! We'll see...it's truly in God's hands and I know He loves both me and baby and will take care of us!
With the whole Murphy's Law things, it makes perfect sense that the month I feel bad physically is the month we are way overbooked in our schedule! There have been several times this month my hubby and I looked at each other and said, "how are we going to get through this??" But God is so good and provided the strength and grace we needed to be faithful to our commitments, find rest in between them, and grow closer together because of going through the craziness together! (Although next month we are purposely keeping it very minimally scheduled.)
Our craziest week turned out to be one of the most blessing-filled. We had two nights of my workplace fundraiser banquet (where my husband was the emcee), and three days over an hour away as presenters for a marriage prep retreat for engaged couples (and had to drive home each day because of two other overlapping events!!). Despite some early mornings, some pregnancy carsickness (you've truly reached a new level in your marriage when your husband holds your hair back while you throw up on the side of a country road...which I can laugh about now...), we actually experienced so much grace through the week! The speaker at my work fundraiser was incredibly inspirational (Matt Hammitt from Sanctus Real), and we met some great new friends at the marriage prep weekend and were able to counsel a few of the engaged couples through some different issues they were having. When the whole week was done and we found we were still alive, we grabbed some pizza and the new Star Wars movie (so late to the game, I know) and had an impromptu date night in and reminisced how God had worked through the week in our lives and in others'.
We have a few more things this month, including a wedding this weekend, but our schedule is slowing down and the weather is warming up! It is absolutely gorgeous and I can't get enough of the blooming trees and flowers and sunshine and birds!
What are you up to lately? Give me some comment-love with your highs and lows of the month.
Want to join this week's link up? Grab our button below and link back to one of the hosts!
You can join us on Pinterest, too!
Follow Sweet Little Ones's board Tuesday Talk Features on Pinterest.
Blogger:
Saturday, February 13, 2016
My State of the Blog Address
So here's the thing, sweet friends.
We need to talk about the blog.
I've had this little spot on the web for almost eight years. Seven of those years I've been single and childless and living in my cute bachelorette pad of an apartment. Now I'm married, a home owner, and the mama of two little ones (one in Heaven and one growing beneath my heart).
Even though to me it's been a lovely, smooth transition, the reality is that my life has drastically changed. And I feel like I don't know how to blog anymore. Can I share something with you? Especially you longtime readers...
I'm afraid you're going to think I've turned into a mommy-blogger.
I'm not. But yet I am.
Stay with me. (both in this post and for good-- ha!)
For years I've shared with you my heartaches, my joys, my reflections as a single woman learning to trust God on the journey. The reality is that I'm still that same woman, still learning to trust God on this new journey. My path looks a little different, but my heart looks a lot the same.
In some ways, my heart will continue to relate most deeply to single women or women struggling with infertility. Honestly, sometimes I feel more comfortable in those circles than in circles of married mamas who haven't had those struggles. To the average reader walking in, I'm a woman with a husband, a home, and a baby on the way. But how do I let them know my heart remembers...my heart remembers the nights after breakups and my broken engagement, the confusion with God's plan and wondering if I was even on the right path. My heart remembers the years of diagnoses and the treatments for a body that won't work right. My heart remembers the tears and overwhelming grief from losing our first little one. My heart still struggles with fear at times that we'll lose this one, too.
So there it is. This tension and struggle of how to embrace and share this new season of life with you while remaining relevant and real to my past readers. The desire to say, I'm still me, while also rejoicing in the new beauty of marriage and homemaking and pregnancy.
In the end, at our very core we are simply women. Whether old or young, married or single, physical mother or spiritual mother, we share the same joys and struggles. We all know hope, disappointment, loneliness, love, joy, longing, and fear.
So stay with me, old readers? Get to know me, new readers? We're all in this together, this crazy adventure called life.
And no matter what season we find ourselves in today, if we have the eyes to see it and the heart open to God's grace, we will find that life is beautiful.
We need to talk about the blog.
I've had this little spot on the web for almost eight years. Seven of those years I've been single and childless and living in my cute bachelorette pad of an apartment. Now I'm married, a home owner, and the mama of two little ones (one in Heaven and one growing beneath my heart).
Even though to me it's been a lovely, smooth transition, the reality is that my life has drastically changed. And I feel like I don't know how to blog anymore. Can I share something with you? Especially you longtime readers...
I'm afraid you're going to think I've turned into a mommy-blogger.
I'm not. But yet I am.
Stay with me. (both in this post and for good-- ha!)
For years I've shared with you my heartaches, my joys, my reflections as a single woman learning to trust God on the journey. The reality is that I'm still that same woman, still learning to trust God on this new journey. My path looks a little different, but my heart looks a lot the same.
In some ways, my heart will continue to relate most deeply to single women or women struggling with infertility. Honestly, sometimes I feel more comfortable in those circles than in circles of married mamas who haven't had those struggles. To the average reader walking in, I'm a woman with a husband, a home, and a baby on the way. But how do I let them know my heart remembers...my heart remembers the nights after breakups and my broken engagement, the confusion with God's plan and wondering if I was even on the right path. My heart remembers the years of diagnoses and the treatments for a body that won't work right. My heart remembers the tears and overwhelming grief from losing our first little one. My heart still struggles with fear at times that we'll lose this one, too.
So there it is. This tension and struggle of how to embrace and share this new season of life with you while remaining relevant and real to my past readers. The desire to say, I'm still me, while also rejoicing in the new beauty of marriage and homemaking and pregnancy.
In the end, at our very core we are simply women. Whether old or young, married or single, physical mother or spiritual mother, we share the same joys and struggles. We all know hope, disappointment, loneliness, love, joy, longing, and fear.
So stay with me, old readers? Get to know me, new readers? We're all in this together, this crazy adventure called life.
And no matter what season we find ourselves in today, if we have the eyes to see it and the heart open to God's grace, we will find that life is beautiful.
Monday, September 28, 2015
Her Story
She walked in the other night, a breath of fresh air. Five-foot-nothing with a couple inches added on with her stylish heels. Cute outfit, gorgeous hair, twinkling eyes, and an infectious smile.
I was intimidated.
It had been a long day at the new job and I was still finding my way, wading through paperwork, trying to make friends, and hoping I was where I was supposed to be, literally and philosophically! Despite my excitement about the new job, there was still fear and hesitation...and a nagging doubt that I would be able to handle it all-- these pregnant women in crisis when in some ways, I was still a woman in crisis after losing my own pregnancy.
She smiled at me and introduced herself, this beautiful woman who comes in to volunteer at the crisis pregnancy center a few evenings a month after her day job. She was perfect in my eyes--poised, friendly, and gorgeous.
So I assumed her life must be perfect, too.
Why do we do it? Why do we compare, contrast, measure, and evaluate ourselves against other women? Why do we draw conclusions from what we see before we even speak?
But even though I was intimidated-- and let's be real, a little jealous-- I still wanted to get to know her. I wanted to hear her story. I was inspired and curious that she would volunteer her evenings at this place despite working a full time job and have a baby at home.
I think God wanted me to hear her story, too.
Because as she opened the cover of her book and laid it all out there for me, I knew it wasn't a chance encounter. Her chapters of infertility, of then conceiving twins, of her son dying in her womb and her daughter dying in the neonatal ICU. Her subsequent chapter of the adoption of her daughter. That somehow she knew she was still called to work here. That God gives grace. That some days it's hard to see the clients conceiving child after child-- often unwanted. But there's grace. And there's redemption. And there's healing.
You can do this. You are meant to be here. Despite your story. Or maybe because of your story.
That's what I heard that night. It was exactly what I needed to hear.
All because I asked her story. And because she wasn't afraid to share it.
Open up your heart to others, sweet friends. Don't be afraid to let them read the tough chapters of your story. It might be just what someone needs to hear.
I was intimidated.
It had been a long day at the new job and I was still finding my way, wading through paperwork, trying to make friends, and hoping I was where I was supposed to be, literally and philosophically! Despite my excitement about the new job, there was still fear and hesitation...and a nagging doubt that I would be able to handle it all-- these pregnant women in crisis when in some ways, I was still a woman in crisis after losing my own pregnancy.
She smiled at me and introduced herself, this beautiful woman who comes in to volunteer at the crisis pregnancy center a few evenings a month after her day job. She was perfect in my eyes--poised, friendly, and gorgeous.
So I assumed her life must be perfect, too.
Why do we do it? Why do we compare, contrast, measure, and evaluate ourselves against other women? Why do we draw conclusions from what we see before we even speak?
But even though I was intimidated-- and let's be real, a little jealous-- I still wanted to get to know her. I wanted to hear her story. I was inspired and curious that she would volunteer her evenings at this place despite working a full time job and have a baby at home.
I think God wanted me to hear her story, too.
Because as she opened the cover of her book and laid it all out there for me, I knew it wasn't a chance encounter. Her chapters of infertility, of then conceiving twins, of her son dying in her womb and her daughter dying in the neonatal ICU. Her subsequent chapter of the adoption of her daughter. That somehow she knew she was still called to work here. That God gives grace. That some days it's hard to see the clients conceiving child after child-- often unwanted. But there's grace. And there's redemption. And there's healing.
You can do this. You are meant to be here. Despite your story. Or maybe because of your story.
That's what I heard that night. It was exactly what I needed to hear.
All because I asked her story. And because she wasn't afraid to share it.
Open up your heart to others, sweet friends. Don't be afraid to let them read the tough chapters of your story. It might be just what someone needs to hear.
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
Wisdom for Wednesdays (we're bringing it back!)
"So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have had to endure many trials for awhile."
-1 Peter 1:6
Friday, July 24, 2015
Quick Takes Friday [vol. 22]
Did you think this was turning into a book blog?? I know, seriously!! I was way behind in my book reviews, so my apologies for the slew of reviews! (but then again...I'm a book lover, you're a book lover. No apologies needed, right?)
--1--
Summer. Sweet summer. It's finally here. Our days are 80's (and 90's today!) with little humidity and lots of sunshine. It's so gorgeous. The cornfields around our house are topped with their golden fuzz. The birds can't get enough of the seed in my birdfeeders. I ate breakfast outside this morning just drinking in all the beauty of this season.
--2--
P. has had two trips this month for work-- both of which involved flying out of state, which is unusual for him. My first time with him gone since we've been married, and my first time alone in the house. It was actually a bit of an adventure. I'm thankful my single years taught me to be content and competent on my own...there are recipes to be made, projects to do, books to read! But I was still very happy to pick him up at the airport and have him home once again!
--3--
Speaking of adventures, I sought out the nearest farmer's market last week! There's such a charm to market shopping! It makes me feel like an old-fashioned girl, going to the market to barter for fresh food for the week. My 'splurge' was a cute little pot of rosemary to plant in a flowerbox outside. I'll definitely be back next week! I can't wait until the watermelons are ready...
--4--
I'm writing for The Catholic Sip now and was featured on one of their podcasts recently. What a fun time. One of the hosts was one of our groomsmen, so I had a bit of an 'in' to writing for them. They're a great new ministry, though, and it's made me seek out other podcasts. I never really listened to them before and now I'm finding all sorts of neat ones (although I still don't quite understand how to use them...can you subscribe so they're automatically downloaded to your phone? Help a tech-challenged girl, will you?) Do you have any favorites podcasts to share while I'm on this craze?
--5--
I officially told my employer that I'll be looking for a new job so they can begin the hiring/training process while I'm still there. What a bittersweet time! I've held my position in cardiology for eight years!! But the drive is now about an hour from our new house and I'm just exhausted from the early mornings and the two-hours worth of driving each day-- it makes for a cranky wife sometimes, just to keep things real. I'm on the hunt and God has provided some exciting opportunities! One step at a time...I'll keep you informed, stay tuned!
--6--
This book. This beautiful book that I've had for months but read at just the right time. God has a way of nudging us like that...despite all the joyous events in my life these past few months, I've felt a little spiritually dry or distant. Enter Every Bitter Thing Is Sweet, by Sara Hagerty. A story of personal faith, infertility, adoption, authenticity, rejecting legalism, and finding sweet intimacy with God. It was a powerful book for me and one chapter in particular just...hit me. And all of a sudden I was crying redemptive tears and praying from a heart that God was slowly renewing.
--7--
And He knew I would need that closeness with Him. The God who sees us. The God who is with us. The God who holds us tightly and walks with us through the valley.
Because last month I miscarried.
I know. I'm tucking it here in the last of my quick takes. Because after these weeks of intense grief and sorrow, the wound is healed enough to be tucked away...or maybe rather protected from those who don't understand. But I want you to know. And I'll talk about it more soon. But for now-- know that I tasted the indescribable goodness of being a mama. Of a little life growing inside. I have a child. I will meet him someday. My heart is torn by the separation of this life...but rejoicing that the Lord is holding my baby. He is still good. And I praise Him for the gift of a little one, an eternal soul that will be happy with Him forever. We love our child more than I ever knew was possible. Love hurts but it's still beautiful.
Every life is a gift, no matter how brief it be upon this earth. And so life is still beautiful, too.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
Turning the Page
This has been a beautiful holiday break. I mean, hey, it's 1:15pm and I'm cuddled in my chair with coffee, the Little Dog, and a Christmas quilt. Does it get any more cozy than this?Quiet simplicity and time for reflection. My soul is happily expanding.
I'm reflecting on 2014. And looking ahead at 2015. I'm thinking about all of you. Some of you have been with me the past several years...maybe even some of you since the blog started. You, too, have caused my soul to expand with your own stories, your comments, your love and encouragement. God uses everything. Even (especially?) the internet. To connect His children. The kindred spirits I'd never have known if it weren't for the blog. So thank you. For being with me on the journey.
This past year was full of sunshine and storms and much grace. The beginning of the year found me lost in Paris. No joke. Stranded alone at an airport without a working cell phone and only a French phrase book to guide me. Pretty much an emergency course in trusting God's providence and protection. But all is well as I sit in my American home a year later, realizing with His help I conquered the metro system and my fears.
February found me reeling from a second break-up with my now-fiance. Even on heart-sharing blogs, there must be some things kept in a private corner of the heart. So though I want to share more details, and certainly would if you were across from me with your own coffee mug in hand, I'll simply repeat that God uses everything. I never doubted P.'s love for me, but both of us painfully separated to figure out what God really wanted from us. What a time of surrender and being covered by grace. Of being stripped of everything but the present moment. Of learning to pray with an open hand and heart, confused but earnestly desiring God to make His plan known whatever it might be. If you're going through your own storm right now, my heart is with you. I have tears in my eyes as I write this because hearts that have been broken love best and care most. Lean into Him, friend. He is enough. He does love you and has not forgotten you, even when you don't understand His ways.
I resigned from my manager position with the crisis pregnancy center this spring. It was a difficult decision (to put it mildly) but seemed best when I looked at the neglected areas of my life due to a too busy and stressful schedule. I'm still able to volunteer for them and have more one-on-one contact with clients, including performing ultrasounds-- my true passion. So though I miss the leadership role, I think this current role is perfect for this season and I look forward to how the Lord will use all my experiences in the future to promote a culture of life.
The summertime found me traveling to Tennessee with a carload of 6 girlfriends en route to our cabin in the mountains! We called our Facebook planning group "Epic Tennessee Adventure" and looking back, I can't think of a better description! It was an adventure, and it was epic. I learned how to cook on a charcoal grill, prayed devotions with the girls on our cabin deck, braved class 4 white water rafting, hiked the Smokies, and soaked in a hot tub with my sisters while Dollywood shot off fireworks in the distance. Traveling is such a bonding experience (and it can bring out the worst in us, too, haha!); this trip was a treasured gift and memory.
Then in October, there's this fairy tale where the dragon is slain, the forests are navigated, and all of a sudden I have this diamond on my left hand, the man I love before me, and overflowing joy in my heart. It's humbling and crazy and amazing and messy and indescribably beautiful. Our time apart has solidified our foundation in Christ and I am forever grateful. For all of it. Our God is in the business of redeeming everything we give Him...especially ourselves.
So this 2014 stuff: lost in Paris, then found in Tennessee. A broken heart then a heart that overflows (Psalm 45:1). What can happen in a year...
Now I'm turned the page. 2015. Marriage. Moving. Life as I know it is changing. Will you stay with me, my friends? You who have traveled with me, who send emails and comment love, who remind me time and again how beautiful are human hearts? I invite you into my journey of 2015, my heart and my life. I hope you will let me walk with you, too.
Grace upon grace,
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
When It's Hard to Find the Strength to Go to Him
Yesterday morning, I was reflecting on John chapter 11, specifically verses 17-37. The story of Lazarus' death and when Jesus goes to raise him from the dead. But I wasn't thinking about Lazarus. Or even Jesus.
I was thinking about the sisters.
Their grief and the way they dealt with it. Their friendship with Jesus and how their brother's death affected it.
When their brother was ill, they called upon Jesus because of their faith in Him.
"So the sisters sent word to him, saying, 'Master, the one you love is ill.'"
He stayed two days longer in His current town before traveling to their rescue. Because He knew--He had another plan, one that would bring greater glory to God and greater faith and trust in Him.
In the meantime, Lazarus died. And sometimes the unexpected happens in our own lives, when we've cried out to God time and time again to save us from an outcome, heartache, pain. But it happens anyway. I don't know about you, but I've wrestled with this at times. The question "Why?" Eight months ago, I sat alone in the back of the church during Sunday Mass, overwhelmed by my grief but soaking in the Scripture readings. John 11 was being read and this tiny hidden verse hit me as it had never done before. Because I related to Mary:
"When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him; but Mary sat at home."
Even though I still believe in Him, still trust Him with my mind...I just don't have the strength or the words to pray. I sit there but my heart struggles. Is that okay? If I had greater faith, would I be Martha, going out to meet Jesus, boldly and actively continuing on knowing He will make all things right? Instead, sometimes I can't find the strength to go to Him. I sit at home.
But this is the God we serve, dear friends. The One who doesn't hold our weakness against us, but instead pursues us in our grieving. He seeks us out to heal us, even when we don't have the strength to go out and meet Him. He will come to you. He will call your name.
"When [Martha] had said this, she went and called her sister Mary secretly, saying, 'The teacher is here and is asking for you.'"
So let Him find you as you are. Fall at His feet and tell Him all your fears and doubts. He knows already anyway.
"When Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said to him, 'Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.'"
Your tears matter to God.
"When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who had come with her weeping, He became perturbed and deeply troubled, and said 'Where have you laid him?' They said to Him, 'Sir, come and see.'
"And Jesus wept."
Even though He knew He was about to perform a miracle, Jesus cried. Our God...wept.
He didn't hold it against Mary that in her grieving she didn't go out to meet Him. He came to her. He cried with her. And then He brought good from bad, beauty from ashes, victory over death.
I texted a girlfriend these verses yesterday because of a heavy cross she is carrying right now. She replied with "God is so good" because she had been meditating on a verse from this very chapter for the past few days!
It stirred me to share my thoughts with you. Because maybe God wants you to know this. That He's not holding it against you if you're struggling in prayer or growth because of pain or suffering in your life. He's meeting you where you are. He's coming to you, sweet friend. Take whatever steps you can to meet Him but He will close the gap. Fall at His feet. He has a beautiful plan for you but for now, He is simply holding you in His arms.
I'm praying for you.
Love,
3
I was thinking about the sisters.
Their grief and the way they dealt with it. Their friendship with Jesus and how their brother's death affected it.
When their brother was ill, they called upon Jesus because of their faith in Him.
"So the sisters sent word to him, saying, 'Master, the one you love is ill.'"
He stayed two days longer in His current town before traveling to their rescue. Because He knew--He had another plan, one that would bring greater glory to God and greater faith and trust in Him.
In the meantime, Lazarus died. And sometimes the unexpected happens in our own lives, when we've cried out to God time and time again to save us from an outcome, heartache, pain. But it happens anyway. I don't know about you, but I've wrestled with this at times. The question "Why?" Eight months ago, I sat alone in the back of the church during Sunday Mass, overwhelmed by my grief but soaking in the Scripture readings. John 11 was being read and this tiny hidden verse hit me as it had never done before. Because I related to Mary:
"When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him; but Mary sat at home."
Even though I still believe in Him, still trust Him with my mind...I just don't have the strength or the words to pray. I sit there but my heart struggles. Is that okay? If I had greater faith, would I be Martha, going out to meet Jesus, boldly and actively continuing on knowing He will make all things right? Instead, sometimes I can't find the strength to go to Him. I sit at home.
But this is the God we serve, dear friends. The One who doesn't hold our weakness against us, but instead pursues us in our grieving. He seeks us out to heal us, even when we don't have the strength to go out and meet Him. He will come to you. He will call your name.
"When [Martha] had said this, she went and called her sister Mary secretly, saying, 'The teacher is here and is asking for you.'"
So let Him find you as you are. Fall at His feet and tell Him all your fears and doubts. He knows already anyway.
"When Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said to him, 'Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.'"
Your tears matter to God.
"When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who had come with her weeping, He became perturbed and deeply troubled, and said 'Where have you laid him?' They said to Him, 'Sir, come and see.'
"And Jesus wept."
Even though He knew He was about to perform a miracle, Jesus cried. Our God...wept.
He didn't hold it against Mary that in her grieving she didn't go out to meet Him. He came to her. He cried with her. And then He brought good from bad, beauty from ashes, victory over death.
I texted a girlfriend these verses yesterday because of a heavy cross she is carrying right now. She replied with "God is so good" because she had been meditating on a verse from this very chapter for the past few days!
It stirred me to share my thoughts with you. Because maybe God wants you to know this. That He's not holding it against you if you're struggling in prayer or growth because of pain or suffering in your life. He's meeting you where you are. He's coming to you, sweet friend. Take whatever steps you can to meet Him but He will close the gap. Fall at His feet. He has a beautiful plan for you but for now, He is simply holding you in His arms.
I'm praying for you.
Love,
3
Monday, November 10, 2014
Once in a while, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale.
This fairy tale has had its share of fire-breathing dragons, damsels in distress, and tangled forests.
And to be honest? It probably will continue to.
But that's okay...“Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”
Our tale?
We ask for a little help from our friends...
A lot of time, tears, grace, and growth. Dragons being beaten. Dark forests being traveled.
And then one day...
This.
The end.
Just kidding. It's only the beginning. And I'm beyond grateful to be walking this path with this man whom I admire, respect, and love so deeply. What a gift. What an incredible joy and blessing from above. Thank YOU for your faithful friendship as a reader, for staying with me through the storms and sunshine. Please continue to do so, for I treasure you and love sharing life with you. Pray for us and know that I pray for you.
Life is beautiful.
"Every person's life is a fairy tale written by God's fingers." -Hans Christian Andersen
And to be honest? It probably will continue to.
But that's okay...“Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”
Our tale?
 |
| Once upon a time we met in Summer 2011 at a church picnic. He fell head over heels. I was dating someone else. The photographer claims she knew it was coming... |
 |
| I joined as a chaperone for the mission trip in Spring 2012, no longer in a relationship. Now I fall head over heels for this incredible spiritual leader. Who also has all the charm of, well, you know, Prince Charming. |
 |
| So we work together, |
 |
| We laugh together. |
 |
| We serve together. |
 |
| But life gets messy. Really messy sometimes. |
 |
| We wonder if God is really calling us to play on the same team. |
A lot of time, tears, grace, and growth. Dragons being beaten. Dark forests being traveled.
And then one day...
This.
 |
| He proposes. I say yes. |
 |
| And we live happily ever after. Well, kind of. Because the goal of marriage isn't to be happy... It's to be holy. And to get to Heaven, where we'll be eternally happy. So we're on this journey together with the hope of a happily ever after. |
Just kidding. It's only the beginning. And I'm beyond grateful to be walking this path with this man whom I admire, respect, and love so deeply. What a gift. What an incredible joy and blessing from above. Thank YOU for your faithful friendship as a reader, for staying with me through the storms and sunshine. Please continue to do so, for I treasure you and love sharing life with you. Pray for us and know that I pray for you.
Life is beautiful.
"Every person's life is a fairy tale written by God's fingers." -Hans Christian Andersen
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Second Week of Advent
Sitting at the kitchen table with the Little Dog on my lap. Homemade spaghetti sauce warming on the stove (thank you, freezer, for giving me fresh food in the winter!). Achingly beautiful Christmas music playing in the background, making me tear up at the slightest swell of instruments.
And I'm thinking about you.
All you wonderful people who visit this site. (um, and just a little bit about the Christmas cookies in the fridge.)You who welcome me into your home by reading my blog. (okay, I understand if that sounds a little creepy.) Who type comment love or friendly emails here and there, reminding me that my brothers and sisters live all over this big world but are so very beautifully connected.
So I wanted to say hello. And happy Advent.
You know I love this Church season of Advent. This invitation to slow down, seek quiet, trust in waiting, surrender to mystery. It wraps itself around my soul with gentle beckoning.
I responded this year to that call as with other years. I was ready to prepare Him room. I told my women's share group about my goals of finding Christ in the quiet, darkness, fasting, and waiting...just as our Advent program had focused on.
Somehow I pictured myself transformed by fervent prayer, calm solitude, overwhelming peace.
Instead these first two weeks have been more characterized by fervent grumbling, calm despair, and overwhelming uncertainty.
Don't get me wrong. I still love the season. I have my decorations up and my heart lights up when my Christmas tree does. I hosted a cookie swap with a dozen or so girlfriends. I sipped hot chocolate with two of them and crafted Christmas cards. I've absolutely relished a new Advent devotional recommended by a friend (Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas).
But amidst all that, I find myself being selfish, discontent, lonely, and discouraged. I play the comparison game. I get frustrated at both jobs. I need a break from people but I get lonely at home. I choose the temporary over the eternal. I whine. I pout. I sin. It's not a pretty sight, soul-friends. And that further discourages me, because this isn't how I wanted my Advent to be. Old memories surface. Unfulfilled desires nudge. It hurts.
I'm not where I want to be. I'm not who I want to be.
Emmanuel. My heart cries out.
I keep learning.
God-Is-With-Us.
Instead of the warmth of Advent wrapping around me, I'm feeling stripped of control and comfort.
It's cold. It's vulnerable. It's painful. It's messy. But hope draws near. Because these are the conditions of the Christmas stable. Of the uncomfortable Christmas journey to Bethlehem.
Messy manger. Messy heart.
I'm finding He chooses both to dwell within.
This Advent is not what I planned. But somehow He's using it. He's making it beautiful before I can see it.
Like Mary, He simply wants me to be open. To be. To look to Him with trust so that He can enter in and be born to the world through me. (From that amazing devotional I mentioned above!)
Maybe I'm not where I want to be or who I want to be. But I know this tender Savior enters into our messes. To transform us into who He wants us to be.
Maybe He's already here.
Emmanuel.
And I'm thinking about you.
All you wonderful people who visit this site. (um, and just a little bit about the Christmas cookies in the fridge.)You who welcome me into your home by reading my blog. (okay, I understand if that sounds a little creepy.) Who type comment love or friendly emails here and there, reminding me that my brothers and sisters live all over this big world but are so very beautifully connected.
So I wanted to say hello. And happy Advent.
You know I love this Church season of Advent. This invitation to slow down, seek quiet, trust in waiting, surrender to mystery. It wraps itself around my soul with gentle beckoning.
I responded this year to that call as with other years. I was ready to prepare Him room. I told my women's share group about my goals of finding Christ in the quiet, darkness, fasting, and waiting...just as our Advent program had focused on.
Somehow I pictured myself transformed by fervent prayer, calm solitude, overwhelming peace.
Instead these first two weeks have been more characterized by fervent grumbling, calm despair, and overwhelming uncertainty.
Don't get me wrong. I still love the season. I have my decorations up and my heart lights up when my Christmas tree does. I hosted a cookie swap with a dozen or so girlfriends. I sipped hot chocolate with two of them and crafted Christmas cards. I've absolutely relished a new Advent devotional recommended by a friend (Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas).
But amidst all that, I find myself being selfish, discontent, lonely, and discouraged. I play the comparison game. I get frustrated at both jobs. I need a break from people but I get lonely at home. I choose the temporary over the eternal. I whine. I pout. I sin. It's not a pretty sight, soul-friends. And that further discourages me, because this isn't how I wanted my Advent to be. Old memories surface. Unfulfilled desires nudge. It hurts.
I'm not where I want to be. I'm not who I want to be.
Emmanuel. My heart cries out.
I keep learning.
God-Is-With-Us.
Instead of the warmth of Advent wrapping around me, I'm feeling stripped of control and comfort.
It's cold. It's vulnerable. It's painful. It's messy. But hope draws near. Because these are the conditions of the Christmas stable. Of the uncomfortable Christmas journey to Bethlehem.
Messy manger. Messy heart.
I'm finding He chooses both to dwell within.
This Advent is not what I planned. But somehow He's using it. He's making it beautiful before I can see it.
Like Mary, He simply wants me to be open. To be. To look to Him with trust so that He can enter in and be born to the world through me. (From that amazing devotional I mentioned above!)
Maybe I'm not where I want to be or who I want to be. But I know this tender Savior enters into our messes. To transform us into who He wants us to be.
Maybe He's already here.
Emmanuel.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
All in a Day
Ahhh. I feel a million times better right now. I just washed off a green clay face mask and I feel like I washed all my cares away, too. (okay, not really. but it sounds like a great commercial.)
It's amazing what some food, some quiet rest time, some praise and worship, and a clay mask can do for my outlook.
It's been a long day. Two miscarriages, a new baby, a new pregnancy, ultrasound training, piles of paperwork, piles of emotions. And to top it all off, personally I've been charting again. I know it's for my health, but it's also a glaring reminder that my body doesn't work right...and as I see these precious babies, I can't help but wonder if my body will carry one beneath my heart someday. Someday.
And so after staying late at work, buying some groceries for a camping trip this weekend, and then finally getting home this evening with a full heart and an empty stomach...I cried.
I walked through my house putting away clothes and groceries as sniffles and mini-sobs escaped.
I'm a little hesitant to tell you guys that. I've been posting all these Haiti reflections and quotes on poverty and justice...and here I blubber because of transient hunger and fear of the future.
I'm aware of the first-world status of my problems.
But you know...I still think God cares. Actually, I know He does.
Because I felt His caress as I unpacked those groceries. He wasn't criticizing me for being weak. He was reminding me He wants to be my strength. No matter what our struggle is, He wants to be in the thick of it with us. Whether it's something big like third-world hunger, or something small like a long day at work...or something universal like loneliness, fear, guilt, or heartache...He's there. A loving Father who either gently points our focus in a new direction, or generously provides for our needs and desires, or sometimes just holds us tight and cries with us.
The groceries are put away. The camping food is packed. I even found some time to load up the tent and all that. And despite the challenges, it was a beautiful, graced day at the pregnancy center. It feels great to look back on the crazy day and know that most of the to-do list got done anyway; I don't know why I worry about it.
But the moment I treasure most from tonight is when I felt His presence in the midst of my humanness. When I lifted my hands spontaneously in worship as Spotify played my favorite songs, and the God of the broken reached down and loved me in all my first-world selfishness and weakness. And reminded me that He doesn't want me to complete a to-do list for Him.
He just wants me.
He wants you, too.
Throw away the to-do list with me. He's reaching down. Lift up your hands. It feels a million times better.
It's amazing what some food, some quiet rest time, some praise and worship, and a clay mask can do for my outlook.
It's been a long day. Two miscarriages, a new baby, a new pregnancy, ultrasound training, piles of paperwork, piles of emotions. And to top it all off, personally I've been charting again. I know it's for my health, but it's also a glaring reminder that my body doesn't work right...and as I see these precious babies, I can't help but wonder if my body will carry one beneath my heart someday. Someday.
And so after staying late at work, buying some groceries for a camping trip this weekend, and then finally getting home this evening with a full heart and an empty stomach...I cried.
I walked through my house putting away clothes and groceries as sniffles and mini-sobs escaped.
I'm a little hesitant to tell you guys that. I've been posting all these Haiti reflections and quotes on poverty and justice...and here I blubber because of transient hunger and fear of the future.
I'm aware of the first-world status of my problems.
But you know...I still think God cares. Actually, I know He does.
Because I felt His caress as I unpacked those groceries. He wasn't criticizing me for being weak. He was reminding me He wants to be my strength. No matter what our struggle is, He wants to be in the thick of it with us. Whether it's something big like third-world hunger, or something small like a long day at work...or something universal like loneliness, fear, guilt, or heartache...He's there. A loving Father who either gently points our focus in a new direction, or generously provides for our needs and desires, or sometimes just holds us tight and cries with us.
The groceries are put away. The camping food is packed. I even found some time to load up the tent and all that. And despite the challenges, it was a beautiful, graced day at the pregnancy center. It feels great to look back on the crazy day and know that most of the to-do list got done anyway; I don't know why I worry about it.
But the moment I treasure most from tonight is when I felt His presence in the midst of my humanness. When I lifted my hands spontaneously in worship as Spotify played my favorite songs, and the God of the broken reached down and loved me in all my first-world selfishness and weakness. And reminded me that He doesn't want me to complete a to-do list for Him.
He just wants me.
He wants you, too.
Throw away the to-do list with me. He's reaching down. Lift up your hands. It feels a million times better.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Wisdom for Wednesdays
I will trust in You
You've never failed before
I will trust in You
You've never failed before
I will trust in You
If there's a road I should walk
Help me find it if I need to be still
Give me peace for the moment
Whatever Your will, whatever Your will
Help me find it if I need to be still
Give me peace for the moment
Whatever Your will, whatever Your will
Can you help me find it?
Can you help me find it?
Can you help me find it?
I'm giving You fear and You give faith
I giving you doubt, You give me grace
For every step I've never been alone
I giving you doubt, You give me grace
For every step I've never been alone
Even when it hurts, You'll have Your way
Even in the valley I will say
With every breath, You've never let me go
Even in the valley I will say
With every breath, You've never let me go
I lift my empty hands
(Come fill me up again)
Have Your way my King
(I give my all to You)
(Come fill me up again)
Have Your way my King
(I give my all to You)
I lift my eyes again
(Was blind but now I see)
'Cause You are all I need
(Was blind but now I see)
'Cause You are all I need
If there's a road I should walk
Help me find it if I need to be still
Give me peace for the moment
Whatever Your will, whatever Your will
Help me find it if I need to be still
Give me peace for the moment
Whatever Your will, whatever Your will
Can you help me find it?
Can you help me find it?
Can you help me find it?
-"Help Me Find It," Sidewalk Prophets
Sunday, July 21, 2013
It has to be grace...
It has to be grace.
This calm in the midst of craziness.
We leave for Haiti this week. I'm not packed. I haven't planned my dog-sitting schedule. I sing for a wedding the day after we return and still haven't practiced two of the songs (don't worry--I have a plan).
But I'm incredibly, beautifully peaceful. And joyful. And trusting.
I feel His presence so tangibly these last few days. In a way I haven't in a long time. It's been somewhat dry spiritually for me. The busyness, the sin and selfishness, the uncertainty of the future, and even a few doubts from the past. So this rain of grace washing the windows of my soul is wonderful and welcome. I can't help but think it's the prayers of sweet friends like you who have prayed for me and this upcoming trip.
Last night I was driving the hour home from P.'s, allowing the comfortable rhythm of reflection and prayer to play out as I drove on the lonely roads. An indescribable rawness of emotion surfaced, a questioning of who I really am--or was, or will be--and if I'm where I'm supposed to be.
And then the familiar notes of one of my favorite songs started playing on the radio. Meredith Andrews, "Not for a Moment." The song I listened to so often during the breakup period between me and P.
The song that reminded me that He, this God and Abba and Lover and Friend, is the only one sure thing in my life. The only Constant. The Unchanging One. The One who never, ever leaves-- whether I feel His presence or not.
And I was reminded again. He is still here. Every question in my mind of who I am can be tossed into the beautiful abyss of knowing Whose I am. No matter what the future holds, He has a plan. He is not confused or surprised or disappointed by my life. And He loves me. Always.
Though I look at my life as the past, the present, and the future, it's all the same to Him. He simply is. He's already there in Haiti, He's already there in the decisions I need to make later this year, He's already there years from now. What a comfort.
Even now, the thoughts bring tears to my eyes. What an amazing God we serve...what an loving Father we've been adopted by.
This calm in the midst of craziness.
We leave for Haiti this week. I'm not packed. I haven't planned my dog-sitting schedule. I sing for a wedding the day after we return and still haven't practiced two of the songs (don't worry--I have a plan).
But I'm incredibly, beautifully peaceful. And joyful. And trusting.
I feel His presence so tangibly these last few days. In a way I haven't in a long time. It's been somewhat dry spiritually for me. The busyness, the sin and selfishness, the uncertainty of the future, and even a few doubts from the past. So this rain of grace washing the windows of my soul is wonderful and welcome. I can't help but think it's the prayers of sweet friends like you who have prayed for me and this upcoming trip.
Last night I was driving the hour home from P.'s, allowing the comfortable rhythm of reflection and prayer to play out as I drove on the lonely roads. An indescribable rawness of emotion surfaced, a questioning of who I really am--or was, or will be--and if I'm where I'm supposed to be.
And then the familiar notes of one of my favorite songs started playing on the radio. Meredith Andrews, "Not for a Moment." The song I listened to so often during the breakup period between me and P.
The song that reminded me that He, this God and Abba and Lover and Friend, is the only one sure thing in my life. The only Constant. The Unchanging One. The One who never, ever leaves-- whether I feel His presence or not.
And I was reminded again. He is still here. Every question in my mind of who I am can be tossed into the beautiful abyss of knowing Whose I am. No matter what the future holds, He has a plan. He is not confused or surprised or disappointed by my life. And He loves me. Always.
Though I look at my life as the past, the present, and the future, it's all the same to Him. He simply is. He's already there in Haiti, He's already there in the decisions I need to make later this year, He's already there years from now. What a comfort.
Even now, the thoughts bring tears to my eyes. What an amazing God we serve...what an loving Father we've been adopted by.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Mess
There are dishes in my sink, clothes on my floor, papers on my desk.
But I want to write. I need to write. Is that okay?
I'm thinking of a million things I should be doing instead. Yet whenever I start working on the list, I only get through 32 of those million things instead of the whole list and then I never get to write.
So tonight I left it all and escaped to the outdoors. I'm writing before the dirty dishes and the piles of clothes and the paper messes.
I hear the nagging voice of perfectionism inside me but I choose to ignore it tonight. I never satisfy it anyway.
I've been in a childish mood today. Can you tell? I'd love to blame it on spiritual warfare and a busy schedule and people who rub me the wrong way...but you know...I really think it's just me. In the end, it's where I'm choosing to focus my thoughts (Philippians 4:8). And I'm not gonna lie, you guys. I'm choosing to be childish. With eyes narrowed and lips pouting, I want to whine about an imperfect life-- of busyness and a never-ending schedule, about juggling two jobs and burnout from ministering to pregnancy test clients, about my own body that doesn't work right with P.C.O.S.--plus that pesky fractured thumb, about a messy house, about relationship tensions and comparing myself to others who have five kids by my age. (Did you notice I'm getting my whine out anyway? Let's have some cheese and cheers, shall we??)
But really. I pause. I breathe deep. I let the breeze tickle my face. I hear that undauntedly cheerful bird chirping. I feel Brogan's fur against my leg as he curls up next to me. I think about a family who loves me. A good man who puts up with my moodiness lately. Of girlfriends who speak truth to me when others pull me down.
I breathe out.
I still feel the weight of my imperfection. Some days I'm convinced that life, that grace, that God has taught me to surrender, to let go of control and perfectionism. At best, I'm humbly thankful and at worst I'm subtly proud of it.
Then I enter a new season with new challenges. With new opportunities to let go, to trust more fully, to surrender more gracefully.
And these hands just grip so tightly.
I grasp for a semblance of control when all spins wildly about me. I can't do it all. So why does that make me feel like a failure?
When will I learn to step back and look at things in the light of Christ, in the light of eternity?
Can I come to Him with hands full of this stuff? Can I drag stuff with me if I admit I need His help in letting go?
Will He transform me from childish...to childlike?
But I want to write. I need to write. Is that okay?
I'm thinking of a million things I should be doing instead. Yet whenever I start working on the list, I only get through 32 of those million things instead of the whole list and then I never get to write.
So tonight I left it all and escaped to the outdoors. I'm writing before the dirty dishes and the piles of clothes and the paper messes.
I hear the nagging voice of perfectionism inside me but I choose to ignore it tonight. I never satisfy it anyway.
I've been in a childish mood today. Can you tell? I'd love to blame it on spiritual warfare and a busy schedule and people who rub me the wrong way...but you know...I really think it's just me. In the end, it's where I'm choosing to focus my thoughts (Philippians 4:8). And I'm not gonna lie, you guys. I'm choosing to be childish. With eyes narrowed and lips pouting, I want to whine about an imperfect life-- of busyness and a never-ending schedule, about juggling two jobs and burnout from ministering to pregnancy test clients, about my own body that doesn't work right with P.C.O.S.--plus that pesky fractured thumb, about a messy house, about relationship tensions and comparing myself to others who have five kids by my age. (Did you notice I'm getting my whine out anyway? Let's have some cheese and cheers, shall we??)
But really. I pause. I breathe deep. I let the breeze tickle my face. I hear that undauntedly cheerful bird chirping. I feel Brogan's fur against my leg as he curls up next to me. I think about a family who loves me. A good man who puts up with my moodiness lately. Of girlfriends who speak truth to me when others pull me down.
I breathe out.
I still feel the weight of my imperfection. Some days I'm convinced that life, that grace, that God has taught me to surrender, to let go of control and perfectionism. At best, I'm humbly thankful and at worst I'm subtly proud of it.
Then I enter a new season with new challenges. With new opportunities to let go, to trust more fully, to surrender more gracefully.
And these hands just grip so tightly.
I grasp for a semblance of control when all spins wildly about me. I can't do it all. So why does that make me feel like a failure?
When will I learn to step back and look at things in the light of Christ, in the light of eternity?
Can I come to Him with hands full of this stuff? Can I drag stuff with me if I admit I need His help in letting go?
Will He transform me from childish...to childlike?
Saturday, March 2, 2013
The Altar
They look at me with such kind eyes. They're rooting for me, they say. But I feel vulnerable. Is it okay that I'm not hiding the pain in my heart? That I let them see my uncertainty, that I don't have it all together? Is it okay to end a conversation with "I don't know?"
It weighs on me. I feel it pressing into my shoulders. It's heavy and unexpected and complicated.
Their kindness soothes me, but it doesn't change things. Their love washes over me gently, but my vision is still clouded. Their support brings me joy, but I still feel this burden.
I'm tired of surrendering. I wish it were a one-time deal.
But it's not.
"The problem with living sacrifices is that they keep crawling off the altar." -Chuck Swindoll
So I crawl back, dragging along my frustration and heartache and confusion. I look for a moment with stubbornness at the familiar altar. My emotions shift from stubbornness to weariness to resolve.
I lug my backpack of emotions to the edge and push it up onto the altar. Then I climb up after and uncurl my clenched hands.
Once again I'm here with my offering, with my very self. I look up to Him with a tear-stained face.
I surrender.
I feel Him approach. His all-powerful presence nearing my altar of sacrifice. Will He accept it once again?
But the next thing I know He's wrapping His arms around me and lifting me off the altar. I'm not sure where my burdens went and it doesn't seem to matter. I rest in His strong yet gentle embrace. Oh, Abba. Is this what surrender feels like because right now I simply feel
Held.
It weighs on me. I feel it pressing into my shoulders. It's heavy and unexpected and complicated.
Their kindness soothes me, but it doesn't change things. Their love washes over me gently, but my vision is still clouded. Their support brings me joy, but I still feel this burden.
I'm tired of surrendering. I wish it were a one-time deal.
But it's not.
"The problem with living sacrifices is that they keep crawling off the altar." -Chuck Swindoll
So I crawl back, dragging along my frustration and heartache and confusion. I look for a moment with stubbornness at the familiar altar. My emotions shift from stubbornness to weariness to resolve.
I lug my backpack of emotions to the edge and push it up onto the altar. Then I climb up after and uncurl my clenched hands.
Once again I'm here with my offering, with my very self. I look up to Him with a tear-stained face.
I surrender.
I feel Him approach. His all-powerful presence nearing my altar of sacrifice. Will He accept it once again?
But the next thing I know He's wrapping His arms around me and lifting me off the altar. I'm not sure where my burdens went and it doesn't seem to matter. I rest in His strong yet gentle embrace. Oh, Abba. Is this what surrender feels like because right now I simply feel
Held.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
My Valentine's Day Story
A lot can happen from one Valentine's Day to the next.
Trust me. I know.
One year ago today I was single on Valentine's Day. And because I love the holiday, it wasn't horrible. But it wasn't great, either.
I was a few months fresh out of a breakup. The years before had been ones of confusion and pain and lots and lots of growth. Peace, joy, and hope had sprouted from the ashes and were growing stronger each day.
Valentine's Day found me driving home alone in the evening from an hour of Adoration at church with my Jesus. I was in a season of surrender. I had tried to control and plan and make things happen long enough. It was all His now. I had seen Him time and time again pick me up from the shattered pieces so gently, so lovingly. I wanted Him first in my life and I trusted Him with my future.
But my heart still ached with its broken dreams.
A Kutless song came on the radio as I drove through the quiet black night with my passenger seat empty but my heart full.
My favorite band was singing:
When the path is daunting
And every step exhausting
I'm not alone.
And I knew it was true. Every fiber of my being felt this truth and rested in it. Though I was tired and struggled on this path, I was not alone.
I feel you draw me closer
All these burdens on my shoulder
I'm not alone, I'm not alone
You pull me me from this place.
Yes. Yes. He knew the burdens of my past, my heart, my life in this season. But still He pulled me close to Him, to His heart beating with an overwhelming, inexhaustible love for me.
The music swelled and the lead vocalist burst out in praise at this God who draws us to Him,
Hallelujah,
He sang. And my heart was swelling with the music and tears coursed down my cheeks as I praised God with him.
You carry me every day
You carry me all all the way
Hallelujah...You carry me to the cross
Ah, this song was the song of my heart. This was beauty and grace. How could I feel such joy and reassurance and love in the midst of brokenness? Only God can do that. We may carry broken dreams or unfulfilled desires or mental, physical, emotional, even spiritual burdens...but He carries us. And He walks beside us so we are never, ever alone. He carries us to His cross and shows us real love that gave everything for us. For me. For you.
One week after that night I would go on a retreat with the man I would fall deeply in love with.
Nine months later he would break up with me as tears rolled down his face.
Eleven months later he would call me, and we would talk, and we would step cautiously back into this relationship after a few weeks. He would continue to treat me with such kindness and love and respect, that I would fall deeply in love with him once again.
And one year later, he would take me out to dinner on Valentine's Day.
A lot can happen from one Valentine's Day to the next. Trust me. Better yet, trust Him.
Trust me. I know.
One year ago today I was single on Valentine's Day. And because I love the holiday, it wasn't horrible. But it wasn't great, either.
I was a few months fresh out of a breakup. The years before had been ones of confusion and pain and lots and lots of growth. Peace, joy, and hope had sprouted from the ashes and were growing stronger each day.
Valentine's Day found me driving home alone in the evening from an hour of Adoration at church with my Jesus. I was in a season of surrender. I had tried to control and plan and make things happen long enough. It was all His now. I had seen Him time and time again pick me up from the shattered pieces so gently, so lovingly. I wanted Him first in my life and I trusted Him with my future.
But my heart still ached with its broken dreams.
A Kutless song came on the radio as I drove through the quiet black night with my passenger seat empty but my heart full.
My favorite band was singing:
When the path is daunting
And every step exhausting
I'm not alone.
And I knew it was true. Every fiber of my being felt this truth and rested in it. Though I was tired and struggled on this path, I was not alone.
I feel you draw me closer
All these burdens on my shoulder
I'm not alone, I'm not alone
You pull me me from this place.
Yes. Yes. He knew the burdens of my past, my heart, my life in this season. But still He pulled me close to Him, to His heart beating with an overwhelming, inexhaustible love for me.
The music swelled and the lead vocalist burst out in praise at this God who draws us to Him,
Hallelujah,
He sang. And my heart was swelling with the music and tears coursed down my cheeks as I praised God with him.
You carry me every day
You carry me all all the way
Hallelujah...You carry me to the cross
Ah, this song was the song of my heart. This was beauty and grace. How could I feel such joy and reassurance and love in the midst of brokenness? Only God can do that. We may carry broken dreams or unfulfilled desires or mental, physical, emotional, even spiritual burdens...but He carries us. And He walks beside us so we are never, ever alone. He carries us to His cross and shows us real love that gave everything for us. For me. For you.
One week after that night I would go on a retreat with the man I would fall deeply in love with.
Nine months later he would break up with me as tears rolled down his face.
Eleven months later he would call me, and we would talk, and we would step cautiously back into this relationship after a few weeks. He would continue to treat me with such kindness and love and respect, that I would fall deeply in love with him once again.
And one year later, he would take me out to dinner on Valentine's Day.
A lot can happen from one Valentine's Day to the next. Trust me. Better yet, trust Him.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Go and Be Healed
We stood for the
Gospel as we always do at Mass, out of love and respect for the powerful words
of Jesus. It was Thanksgiving Day. The church was packed with people who had
come to thank the good Giver. I was squished comfortably nestled between
my brothers in the pew.
I was thankful. But I was broken. And raw.
My focus was simply on getting through one day at a time, yet the question still lingered.
Where do I go from here?
I don't want to go anywhere. I want my knight to come rescue me...except that my knight broke up with me. That never happens in fairy tales.
Then the priest began to read from the Gospel, from the Book that is better than any fairy tale ever written…
I was thankful. But I was broken. And raw.
My focus was simply on getting through one day at a time, yet the question still lingered.
Where do I go from here?
I don't want to go anywhere. I want my knight to come rescue me...except that my knight broke up with me. That never happens in fairy tales.
Then the priest began to read from the Gospel, from the Book that is better than any fairy tale ever written…
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11
|
On
the way to Jerusalem he was passing along between Sama'ria and Galilee.
|
|
12
|
And
as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance
|
|
13
|
and
lifted up their voices and said, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us."
|
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14
|
When
he saw them he said to them, "Go and show yourselves to the
priests." And as they went they were cleansed.
|
|
15
|
Then
one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a
loud voice,
|
|
16
|
and
he fell on his face at Jesus' feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a
Samaritan.
|
|
17
|
Then
said Jesus, "Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine?
|
|
18
|
Was
no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?"
|
|
19
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And
he said to him, "Rise and go your way; your faith has made you
well." -Luke 17:11-19
|
He said to them, "Go." And they went. Then they were healed. They had to step out in faith before they received their healing. Imagine their faith and trust in Jesus...leprosy sores all over them as they began their journey. What if they got to the high priests and the sores were still there? If no healing had taken place? Did they wonder that? Or did they simply trust in Jesus' command to "Go" and know that somehow, some way, as they journeyed...He would heal them.
The lesson wasn't lost on me. In all my pain and confusion and heartache, I wanted to curl up and wait for healing--or answers-- before I kept going. But Jesus asks me to trust Him. To keep going and trust that He is here and that the healing is a process.
It takes faith to 'go' when we're not sure what will happen on the way. It takes faith to walk when we're limping. To stand up when we're bleeding. To trust when we're hurting.
But faith makes us well, Jesus tells us (verse 19).
So we step out in faith and we keep going.
The healing is coming. And the Healer is with us.
Monday, December 10, 2012
So there's this girl...
Who absolutely loves being a nurse...
And loves babies...
And women's ministry...
And listening to and loving others in time of need...
Who is a passionate American who wants this country to be pro-life again...
And she's okay with being a leader when needed.
So when this job opportunity came up that put all of these characteristics together into a unique and intriguing fit,
What could she do but take the job and become the Nurse Manager for a new crisis pregnancy center opening next year?
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| my precious godson and nephew |
Okay, so actually the decision was anything but that simple! This journey has been incredibly difficult but grace-filled. In the spring, I signed up to volunteer a few hours a week for the local crisis pregnancy center as a nurse...feeling this quiet but persistent heart-tug to be doing more in the pro-life arena. I had to wait unti the fall for their volunteer training session. It was an intense and overwhelming four days that left me uncertain if this was even for me. But somehow I continued to feel led to follow through with it.
What a surprise when the director asked if I'd consider joining them instead as an employee and nurse manager of a new clinic they wanted to open!
Um, flattering but no way. My initial reaction. Ha!
Grace by grace, the Lord continued to gently invite me--just as resistance by resistance, the Enemy conitued to throw multiple roadblocks in my path (insurance, my current employer, my breakup with P., my own hesitations and fear).
The breakup with P. made what I thought was my final decision. There was no way I could take on this job without his support (ah, but I was forgetting that I know the One who is The Way...). There I was, a broken-hearted single woman with a diagnosis that may affect my own fertility someday. What was I thinking even considering this job to work with pregnant women every day?
But I'm telling you, friends, His grace is so amazing.
Somehow I just know He wants me here. And that's been enough. The way He has worked in my heart and gently guided me to this place. The words He's spoken to me through others, especially the pregnancy center's amazing regional director. The reassurance He's given me, the desire to step out in faith and trust with this opportunity. Even the stubbornness that grew within me at each roadblock. I am just as certain that the Evil One does not want me here as I am certain that the Lord does. And I know the Lord will be with me on the good days and the challenging ones.
So I put on my Ephesians 6 armor and I took the job.
Crazy grace.
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