Today I realized how very much my heart is now and forever outside of my body and how very little control I seem to have over protecting it.
We woke up early this morning to drive to Children’s Mercy Hospital to take Travis to Same Day Surgery for a routine outpatient procedure. Even though this surgery is very common, he still needed to be intubated and put under general anesthesia, so it felt like a big deal.
I remained relatively calm leading up to the moment when we reached the double doors where they would take him back for the procedure and I handed him to the nurse. I watched his little curly head disappear around the corner and my eyes filled with tears I didn’t even know were coming. I felt sick. Shaken. I felt helpless. I knew in my head they were going to take great care of him and come get me when it was over, but my heart twisted in my chest as every fiber of it screamed to be with him. He is my boy and I am his Mama and it is my job to watch over him and protect him. Today that meant leaving him in the care of professionals and trusting them implicitly with his literal life. It was uncomfortably vulnerable.
Whenever I’ve ever felt vulnerable in the past, I always had a choice in how to handle it. If a friend or family member hurt me, I could forgive and choose to remain vulnerable and open while I sought reconciliation. If that friend or family member continued to wrong me or I realized a relationship was not mutually healthy, I could begin to distance myself, set up boundaries, or cut ties altogether in an effort to protect my heart from further unnecessary damage.
Having a son has completely changed the game now.
The amount of love I have for Travis is greater than I ever dreamed possible. It never runs out and never fades, no matter how he behaves or what he does. With that love comes an extraordinary amount of vulnerability that leaves my heart walking around on the outside with him wherever he goes. When it comes to Travis, my heart remains unprotected. If things get difficult or circumstances like today leave me feeling dangerously exposed, I cannot distance myself from my love for him or allow it to fade away in order to protect it. There are no boundaries, no limits, and no control.
When they walked my son back to the operating room, they took my heart with him. I knew God was watching over him when I couldn’t, but it was still a powerless feeling knowing that so much was hanging in that hour when I was waiting to hear that everything went well. In perspective, I felt grateful that this minor procedure was the worst we’ve had to deal with considering the countless amount of people I know who have lost their babies or had to deal with major illnesses or chronic conditions. This was a cake walk compared to most of the people who would visit that same hospital today.
I am honestly not sure where I am going with this except to say that this is my life now. I am beyond thankful for the opportunity to risk my heart for the joy of loving this sweet boy of ours. I don’t plan on every single blog post to now be about motherhood, but motherhood has certainly changed my life and I love every minute.
Last week I inched 1 year closer to my mid-thirties, in a few days Chad and I will celebrate 8 years of iron sharpening iron marriage, and in about 2 weeks my son will turn ONE.
Life has begun moving at the speed of light it seems. Some of the things contributing to this increase in pace are easier to accept than others, but I am learning to lean into this season.
I love the increased pace that naturally comes with motherhood and having to care for an entire other person’s every need and want because I still remember vividly the days when I wasn’t sure if I would ever have the privilege of washing baby bottles, changing dirty diapers, rocking a little one to sleep with a book and a bottle, and all the other little things that add up to consume most of my free time. It is so worth it and I love every minute.
I don’t so much care for the other things that consume my time. Though I am enjoying school and find my classes interesting, this degree is a means to an end and I already can’t wait to not have to do homework every night. I don’t love cleaning bathrooms or helping mow the yard unless it’s a particularly nice, crisp day – but this is life. Life is full of responsibilities and things that just have to be done and maintained, so that things don’t begin to quite literally fall apart.
This doesn’t leave as much time for things I used to hold in very priority. There aren’t as many hours for unencumbered down time. I can’t as easily find time to journal or read something just for fun (reading time is strictly for homework when you’re in school!) and what I wouldn’t give for an easily arranged, spontaneous trip! Life has to be planned now, not spontaneous. I cannot just go about each day accomplishing things as they suit me. I have to manage my life and my time or the toppling Jenga tower will come crashing down.
This is very difficult for me. My personality loves down time and reflection time. I like having certain routines where I recharge and renew.
I used to wake up with a mug of coffee as I got ready for work. Now I wake up way earlier than I would prefer, jump into a quick 5 minute shower because, as you with curly hair will understand: a nighttime shower simply cannot happen if you want to look remotely decent the next day. I throw clothes on, get Travis breakfast, load the car, get Travis dressed, and run out the door. Most days Chad takes Travis to daycare and I pick him up, but some days I have to take him. I often don’t have my first cup of coffee until 3 hours after my morning has started once I am sitting at my desk at work.
After work, I used to be able to sit in my car checking the Facebook and Instagram notifications I missed during the day and trying to decide if I wanted to run to the store for groceries or maybe just grab an iced coffee and wander around Target under the ruse that I needed to buy paper towels, but instead would come home with a new candle, a cute picture frame, fancy soaps, some random little things, and – oh yeah, paper towels… and toothpaste… and a cute new eye purple shadow. Sometimes after work I would go for a walk or go swimming at the YMCA or something endorphin producing to revive from the long day at my desk. NOW, I try my best to navigate rush hour and get to Travis’ daycare before it closes. I take him home because he’s always hungry and tired after being at ‘school’ all day and then jump into dishes, or throwing in a load of laundry, and figuring out what I can eat for dinner before I have to wash Travis up after he’s smeared dinner all over his face and high chair. Somewhere in this busyness, Chad has gotten home and skipped lunch and is wondering what is for dinner and I am wondering how I can possibly create time to teach him how to cook a decent, healthy meal in the midst of everything else. The only endorphin producing moments in my days now come throw sweet snuggles with my boy as his eyes get heavy while I read to him and hope that he grows up to love books OR if Chad rocks him to sleep, the moment my weary body lays on our AMAZING mattress (best thing we’ve ever purchased) and I close my eyes. I often tell Chad I want to sleep the sleeps of forever. It’s not as morbid as it sounds.
I say all this to highlight how different life is now verses 2 years ago… 5 years ago… 10 years ago. I don’t have as much time for myself, hobbies, friends, or even necessary tasks like chores and homework. I have to be much more vigilant with my time and what limited resources I have to offer the world. My priorities are obviously my family: Chad and Travis, as well as making sure I am taking care of myself as best as I can so that I don’t become the irritable, impatient monster that I know Chad and Travis really don’t like to live with.
But you know what? I wouldn’t change a thing. This pace is not forever. I will eventually be done with my Masters. I will eventually have a boy entering Kindergarten or dare I say, moving away to go to college! *sobbing!* I will eventually miss the late night snuggles, packing peanut butter and jelly sandwich into the Toy Story lunch box, wiping the runny nose that can’t wipe itself, and folding laundry that is still so small it feels somewhat silly to even fold it at all. I will miss buying school supplies and the sense of accomplishment from having a paper I worked hard on receiving not only a high grade, but being accepted to present at a conference (oh yes, this is happening!).
I won’t always be a student. I won’t always be the mother of a baby/toddler. I used to think I wouldn’t ever get the chance to do either. I am embracing the fast pace of this season. There will always be time for reading novels for hours on end, getting back into oil painting, Netflix marathons, or spontaneous Happy Hour dates with friends.
For now, I am here. I am overwhelmed for sure, but my cups runs over with gratitude and joy.
I find it interesting that when people find out you’re about to become a mother for the very first time, they will often say things like, “Get ready to never sleep again!” or “Life as you know it is over! It’s all about the baby now!”
While it may be true that every mom sleeps less and that so much of their life revolves around the baby, I find these statements to be untrue and misleading. They always sounds so foreboding and ominous. It is a fact that I sleep MUCH LESS than I did before, and some friends of mine who are mothers sleep even less than I do since our little guy has always been an abnormally great sleeper. I also think about Travis and his well being every second of my day.
For instance, the past couple of weeks Travis has had a cough that has kept the both of us awake off and on throughout the night. After such erratic sleep, I still have to wake up around 5am, nurse him, get myself ready for work, pack the gazillion bags I now tote everywhere, commute 45 minutes to work, work for 8 hours or so while taking 2 breaks at work to pump, commute back, pick up Travis from daycare, nurse him again, make a healthy dinner since Chad and I are trying to be healthier, do dishes/wash bottles, throw a load of laundry in, get Travis ready for bed, nurse him again, and lay him down to sleep while I read homework for my graduate class while trying to keep my eyes open. (Disclaimer: Chad helps SO much in all of this busyness with the exception of nursing!)
What message wasn’t portrayed to me leading towards becoming a mother for the first time was how very joyous these things, among others, would be. When my boy wakes up from a coughing fit, he wants ME. He snuggles sweetly into my chest and immediately calms down. His breathing softens and deepens until we’re both back to sleep…at least until the next coughing fit. When I wake him up in the morning to nurse, he gives me the biggest sweetest smiles that remove all the exhaustion from my mind. I smile back with a soft, but enthusiastic, “Good morning, handsome!” When I pick him up from daycare, his eyes light up again. Someday soon he will reach his arms towards me and say, “Mama!” because we belong to each other. When I am giving Travis a bath, or reading him a book, or putting lotion on his dry winter skin before placing him in a clean pair of soft jammies, he wraps his chubby little fingers around my thumb and ‘talks’ to me about his day. He is my boy.
These things are incredibly exhausting, but – as everyone says – absolutely worth it. What has been the most unexpected thing is feeling as if who I am has expanded. I have not been replaced with a new version of myself; I have expanded to become something more than I once was. It is difficult to explain, but I still feel so much like myself and like someone else new on top of that. I am still a wife, a friend, a sister, a student, etc. I am just now also a mother on top of those things. I was tired before and I am tired now, but I am somehow now able to function better than I could have imagined on very little sleep. I am not just Travis’ mother; I am Tasha. Adding mother to the growing list of things that make up who I am has only expanded what I am capable of and it’s so much more than I thought was possible.
It’s true that I hold more tightly onto my free time than before because I have less of it and that my priorities have understandably shifted, but that is mainly a dual combination of motherhood and graduate school – neither are for the weak! It used to bother me so much when people would say that being a mother is the greatest calling God could ever ask a woman to do. What an isolating and discouraging statement for those women who cannot have children of their own or who choose not to.
As many of you know, for the past 4 years I wasn’t sure if I would ever have my own children. The women in my life who haven’t or who have chosen not to are extraordinary women! They are passionate and ambitious and contributing so much to the world. Being a mother shouldn’t be this glorified status symbol that graduates someone to being a ‘real woman.’ Being a mother is just another role that some people get to add to the ever growing aspect of who they are. If I had never gotten pregnant, I would still be me and capable of doing extraordinary things for God and this world. I am still me; I am just also joyously responsible for loving and raising a chubby little 20lb version of myself (and Chad!) to be the best young man he can possibly be.
I guess what I am trying to say is that I am surprised that I am still me. People made it seem like I would lose myself in motherhood, but I feel as if the opposite has happened and I feel more like myself than ever before. I still love to read. I still love to create and to write. I still love cats and to travel. I still struggle with all the same flaws I had before and I still value the same things I have always valued. I don’t just want to sit and talk about my baby all the time and nothing else – I’ve never wanted to be that person… But you can bet that the best part of my day now is getting off of work and picking up my sweet little boy and kissing his face.
The journey to motherhood has made me stronger and becoming a mother has expanded who I am and what I am capable of….. It is certainly one of the hardest things I have ever done, but it is also one of the best things to have ever happened to me. It is a joyous gift, but not something I can place on a pedestal as some kind of ultimate achievement of identity or success. The only thing I can glorify is who I am in Christ. He is everything. I can’t be a mother without Him. I can’t be anything without Him. All that is mine – including Travis – belongs to Him and I don’t want to glorify what He has given me, but rather I want to glorify who He is through these things. He has expanded me to be and do more.
The other side of a very long uphill climb looking back down on the path I’ve traveled and enjoying the view from the top. I haven’t had much to write about this year because I was internally processing the avalanche of emotions and thoughts I was feeling during my pregnancy, Travis’ birth, and my glorious 12 weeks of maternity leave. I was journaling, but not sure what I wanted to put out here on my blog.
Let me just say this:
It was so very worth the wait.
Despite the struggle.
Despite the heartache.
Despite the depression.
Despite it all.
I know that is cliché.
I know.
Cliché or not, it is undeniably true and I don’t know another way to say it.
It doesn’t mean the memory of the pain is faint or extinguished. I still remember how I felt at this moment last year wishing I could muster up a reason to feel gratitude at Thanksgiving and not feeling one ounce of it despite my best efforts. I remember dreading the oncoming Christmas holiday and that unspoken feeling of inadequacy that came only from my own, self-inflicted condemnation. In the midst of suffering, hope and joy were buried in a darkness so thick I could hardly to breathe.
But oh the joy of the other side!
And the memory of the journey to get to this point is still so vivid and has flooded my heart with compassion, grace, and prayers for those still climbing.
Last December, right before I saw those long-coveted two pink lines indicating my life was about to change forever, I remember writing a post about the meaning behind my new tattoo. (A tattoo I got while pregnant without realizing it! Haha) You can read that post here, if you’d like
I am referencing that post because it was so timely and spot on with where I was and where I was about to be. Coming out of the darkness I was in to a light so bright and so beautiful that I now truly feel like laughing because of how different everything feels. The darkness did not cling to me, but was washed away by this new light. When I thought I would never see light again, it came suddenly and was brighter than I could have ever imagined.
This is how Jesus saves.
Not by rules and religious regimentation.
Not by condemnation and shame.
Jesus loves by entering your darkest time, reassuring your heart of His presence, and bringing you gently and joyfully into the light.
Hard times are inevitable, but Jesus is our hope.
I will go through dark times again I am sure, but this experience has changed me entirely. I cannot forget how close and how secure I felt in Jesus’ arms in the midst of my pain. I cannot forget how in His grace and mercy he didn’t answer my prayers for a baby right away, but instead gave me Himself. He is the answer to my pain. He is prized possession. He is my hope and my reward. When the next hard season comes, I will know where to turn and Who to lean on.
– – –
Some of my favorite pictures of the past 3 months of my baby boy!
He is such a delight! 🙂
I am finding it very difficult lately over the past few weeks to not feel overcome with anxiety over everything that still needs to get done. I feel like I can only do 1/2 of what I’m typically capable because I become so exhausted so much more quickly. I also feel that every time we accomplish something on our massive to-do list, 3 more things get added.
Is this normal?
I am 26 weeks as of today and the nursery has not even been touched because we have so many other things to finish before we can be ready to start putting the nursery together. Between working full time at a job that has its own daily, never-ending demands and all the projects we have going on, I feel overwhelmed that we’re falling dangerously behind and running out of time.
Is 26 weeks really that late to still not have anything done with the nursery?? Because people keep asking me if I have the nursery “all set up” and every time they ask me that I feel a growing sense of anxiety that lately reduces me to tears without warning…
I need Jesus to be my peace and my help…. I try to center myself in Him and find my strength in Him… But I’m still getting stressed and still crying at a moment’s notice when something else is either added to my to-do list or delays checking something off my list….
It has been a long time since I have written and so much has changed. My last post ironically was about my new tattoo and the meaning behind it to remind my heart to have courage in fearful times because once I am out of the darkness I will realize that with God holding me there was never anything be afraid of at all. What a beautiful thought, right?
Excerpt from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, which was in my last post:
“In a few moments the darkness turned into a greyness ahead, and then, almost before they dared to begin hoping, they had shot out into the sunlight and were in the warm, blue world again. And all at once everybody realized that there was nothing to be afraid of and never had been. They blinked their eyes and looked about them. The brightness of the ship herself astonished them: they had half expected to find that the darkness would cling to the white and the green and the gold in the form of some grime or scum. And then first one, and then another, began laughing.”
And that is exactly how I feel right now…. as I feel this sweet baby boy doing flips in my belly.
We cannot see in the darkness. We cannot know for sure where we are going or what is going to happen. We fear the worst and try to hold onto hope with weak and shaking hands. It is only once we have left the darkness and step into a new season of life and hope that we’re able to look back on the dark times and see every single breathtaking second that God was with us. Eventually the darkness dissipates and we can see more clearly.
Joy comes in the morning indeed.
There are a lot of songs on Christian radio right now that make me change the station because they don’t have a ton of depth or they’re just plain annoying. To be honest, most of the annoying songs are by Mandisa (which I know a lot of people like??), but there was a song on the radio a few days ago by her that captured my heart….. it said:
“When the waves are taking you under, hold on just a little bit longer He knows that this is gonna make you stronger… stronger. The pain ain’t gonna last forever and things can only get better Believe me, this is gonna make you stronger”
I have heard this song before, but it really hit me this time. I have been held in the arms of my Savior while going through one of the hardest times in my life thus far and I can look back now and see how it made me stronger. I am a stronger person and I will be a stronger mom for having experienced the grief of infertility.
Hard times are inevitable and I will probably experience hard times again in my lifetime. Suffering does not discriminate and pain continually finds everyone…but hope and peace and deep, unshakable joy can only come from Christ. Everything else used to pacify pain and suffering is temporary and shallow.
The only way to get through suffering and find purpose in it, is to experience your pain while leaning into the arms of the One who can wipe away every single tear…. a mere glimpse into the life to come.
– – –
“…we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us. You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ….”
Romans 5:3-6
When Chad asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I don’t think he thought I was serious when I said I wanted a new tattoo. 🙂
I got my last tattoo nearly 10 years ago in March of 2005, but I have been thinking about getting a 2nd one for the past 2 years or so.
I don’t tend to get things permanently affixed to my body unless they’re thoroughly thought out and have significant meaning to me. I spent a while trying to think of a great way to not only reflect on the growth I have experienced over the past 3 years, but to also reflect the positive change in my heart as I look ahead to the future.
I stumbled upon this quote on Pintrest by one of my favorite authors: C.S. Lewis and realized how perfect it was.
(I also used it in a blog post not too long ago!)
This quote is from The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, which is my favorite book in the Chronicles of Narnia series.
The context is this:
Lucy and the others are on a ship heading into dark, unknown waters. Everyone is scared and worried that Aslan had led them in the wrong direction. (Oh, wow! How many times I have had this very thought!)
At one point in the midst of some turmoil, Lucy whispers, “Aslan, Aslan, if ever you loved us at all, send us help now.”
After she whispers this, C.S. Lewis so perfectly writes:
“The darkness did not grow any less, but she began to feel a little—a very, very little—better.
‘After all, nothing has really happened to us yet,’ she thought.”
Then Lucy hears a whisper in reply: “Courage, dear heart” and she knew it was Aslan whispering to her.
I just love this part of the book so much because so often in my life, and probably in yours too, life seems dark and full of turmoil. How many times have we questioned where God was in the midst of our confusion, our fear, and our pain?
Those that don’t know the voice of God shake their fists to the heavens and cry out – demanding a reply and a rescue! What I have come to learn slowly, but surely over the past several years is that God is so very near to the broken-hearted. He is a breath away and has not abandoned us. Sometimes the darkness remains around us, but his gentle whisper calms our fears and comes to us in our pain.
The call to have courage is a steep one.
Courage is not easily grasped.
Courage means that when your circumstances don’t change at all that you still trust, you still hope, and you still believe.
Courage waits for that quiet voice to whisper and calm our hearts when our world spins out of control.
Courage knows that a brighter day is coming and that our response should just be to take our Father’s hand as he leads us through and eventually out of the darkness.
After Lucy hears Aslan whisper to her to have courage, Lewis goes on to write:
“In a few moments the darkness turned into a greyness ahead, and then, almost before they dared to begin hoping, they had shot out into the sunlight and were in the warm, blue world again. And all at once everybody realized that there was nothing to be afraid of and never had been. They blinked their eyes and looked about them. The brightness of the ship herself astonished them: they had half expected to find that the darkness would cling to the white and the green and the gold in the form of some grime or scum. And then first one, and then another, began laughing.”
This is exactly the hope that I cling to…That after all this darkness has passed me, that I will find myself in a place more beautiful and more bright than I could have ever dreamed possible. I am not there yet, but I know that day is getting closer…
It takes courage for me to keep hoping.
It takes courage for me to keep dreaming and believing.
It takes courage for me to undergo a procedure or stick myself in a needle for medicine to help me ovulate.
It takes courage to try again and again.
It takes courage for me to fight the bitterness that so often threatens to rear it’s ugly head.
It takes courage for me to tune out the voices of those who speak against the hope my heart clings to.
It takes courage for me to trust that He knows why I am here and He knows where I am going even when I cannot see.
My first tattoo was meant to be a reminder to me that love is difficult, selfless, and requires sacrifice. It was a reminder not only of Christ’s loving sacrifice for me, but the loving sacrifice he calls me to show others.
In the past few years, with all that I have gone through and all that still lies before me, I want the reminder of this difficult season, the reminder of the strength I’ve found in Him, and the reminder of the hope He gives me to be permanent:
Several weeks ago, I made a mistake. I got impatient with the way my life was. I got impatient with someone. I wanted more than I was being given and I was exhausted from being in a season of want and wait for years. I word vomited and immediately regretted it. These things happen. However, like all things of this nature, once it was “out there” I could not pull it back. It has been weighing on me ever since.
Have you ever made a mistake and said or written things that you wished you could take back? Have you ever let the ugliest parts of you be seen and it was not received very well and everything seemed irreversibly different since then? Have you ever wished for more, longed for more, dreamed of more, and felt the ache of that longing? Have you ever felt misunderstood or have you ever misunderstood someone else?
Have you ever not loved someone as well as you should?
I have been thinking so much about love lately.
I have a family that can’t seem to love each other longer than a few days.
It feels hopeless.
I have friends who I love with my entire being and who love me back right where I am for exactly who I am.
It is beautiful and precious.
I have a husband who I try to love so very well, but because we live together I
often make mistakes or say things I wish I could take back.
Thankfully, he makes mistakes too and we both try to be intentional about
forgiving each other every single time, no matter what.
I have friends with completely different love languages than me.
It is a struggle to remember that others give and receive love differently than I do
and I fail often to allow them to love me in their own way.
I have people I could love so much better than I do. Jesus, help me love like you do.
You see….my struggle sometimes is that love is so entirely sacrificial and can, therefore, become so entirely unbalanced by either party. Yet the sacrifice requires a gracious heart that endures the imbalance and loves others anyway.
A lot of people make a big deal about “boundaries” and “setting expectations” so that they don’t get taken advantage of. I agree with this in part and then disagree with this as well. If someone is being abusive to you, then absolutely you should set up boundaries and distance yourself from them. You are precious and under no circumstances do you deserve to be verbally, emotionally, mentally, sexually, or physically abused.
However, I disagree with setting boundaries just when you don’t get what you feel is owed to you – what you feel you deserve. Grace, love, and mercy are given to you freely without you having to do anything to earn them. You don’t deserve them. You’re not owed them. They’re just yours when you agree to receive them. Christ laid down his life for the people who mocked and scourged him. They rejected him and he gave. Grace is relentless and unwavering.
I LOVE this C.S. Lewis quote that so encapsulates the sacrificially loving and patient heart of God towards us:
Do you know what 1st Corinthians lists as the 1st attribute of love?? Patience.
Love is patient.
Love waits for people.
Love waits for the reward, even if it will only come after this life has faded away.
Love is gracious and understanding when people don’t love you well.
Love is being patient with yourself when you fail to love people patiently.
Love is beginning each day with a heart that CHOOSES to remain open, humble, loving, and hopeful.
Love doesn’t give up on people just because they’re not meeting your expectations.
Love isn’t demanding.
So today, I will choose to be patient with others and with myself.
I will pray to become more patient. More gracious. More understanding of others. More willing to wait.
I will wait in hopeful expectation for deeper intimate friendships, for family peace, for the child I long to hold in my arms, for the day when I will see my Granny once again, and for the coming of the One who can settle all the turmoil and chaos of longing in my heart with just one glance of His eye. I will choose to love despite my shortcomings and despite the shortcomings of others. I will not lose heart even though that would be so very easy to do. I will not waver in my faith even though the circumstances around me mock me with their unmet expectations.
I will try my best, despite my failings, to love patiently through His strength as He enables me to give this gracious, patient love to others even when I feel depleted and empty. I will give all of me and He alone will fill me.
The Lord is doing something in me that is difficult, painful, and more precious and beautiful than I deserve.
I know He is because for the past several weeks I have felt on edge and highly unsettled.
I have been anxious and sensitive.
Not that the struggles of the past 3 years hasn’t made me more sensitive already, but this is a little more than that.
The slightest things that I would have easily shaken off in the past have sent me running to my car on a lunch break to choke back tears, lecture myself on the art of getting it together, and reapply my make up.
One misinterpreted look or the lack of acknowledgement altogether.
One single word unknowingly misplaced and insensitively delivered.
One minute too long to sit and dwell and gradually begin to hear the not-so-subtle whispering lies to my heart that strike cords with my deepest fears and insecurities.
The past several weeks I have felt shaken and I haven’t really been able to pinpoint the moment or circumstance that started this process. I just know that because of it, I haven’t felt like myself lately. I sometimes feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore.
Maybe it is because I started a new job and I am still trying to figure out where I fit/belong and where I can find some consistent intrinsic purpose in my work as a lowly admin.
Maybe it is the fact that my sweet Granny isn’t here anymore and any time I think of Christmas, hear an Elvis song, or walk into a craft/fabric store my eyes instantly well up with tears.
Maybe it is because I am navigating the waters of a new friendship and those waters are both simultaneously joyous and murky.
Or maybe… perhaps a big part of it… it is just because ever since I found out that it would most likely be a long and difficult journey until my achingly empty arms would be filled only by God’s faithful gracious mercy, I have struggled every single day of that journey to feel like I belonged somewhere….. anywhere.
Yet, this is the tender place where I find my heart and my thoughts with God. When I come to Him in these moments of restlessness and insecurity….I am realizing once again that my sense of belonging shouldn’t be in tied to these roles I identify with.
I may be a wife, sister, daughter, or friend, but when it comes down to it: I am HIS. I am my Beloved’s and He is mine.
The roles I identify with are not the true me. They are only the costumes I will wear for a short time in this life. The type of wife, sister, daughter, and friend I am to others matters, but only because other people matter.
Love matters.
These roles do not define me and should not determine my happiness.
Jesus and who He is determines that.
He determines everything.
It will take a significant amount of rain to wash away all of my expectations, my perceptions, my needs, my wants, my entitlements, and my identity.
“Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life.” – John Updike
The struggle over the past several years has been to let go of my identity as a mother. Not giving up on the dream, but not letting the lack of this role define me.
I have wanted to be a mother since I was 3 and carried around more baby dolls than I ever did Barbie dolls.
Every single day I battle an onslaught of reminders that reinforce the fact that I am not a mother.
The onslaught on my heart includes things like not being invited to a friend’s house to hang out because it is more of a ‘play date’ and I am not a mother. You have nothing to contribute or offer. It includes people at church wondering why I volunteer in children’s ministry if I don’t have children. What could you possibly know about children? It includes Facebook photos and updates for everything child-related under the sun. Look! I am living the life you can only dream of.
And so much more.
But I hear my Beloved whispering over the sound of the storm…You are mine.
I am His.
I spent most of my 20’s trying to discover who I was and why I am the way I am. I spent many nights journaling every single heartache, confusion, and question in my soul. I spent hours talking with counselors and mentors, trying to navigate from the rocky waters of my childhood, so I could discover who I was and how to successfully join society. I learned so much about who I was, my personality (INFP!), how to love others well, and where I fit in. I felt confident and whole for the first time in my life.
Now that I am working my way through my 30’s and battling infertility, all of that confidence and self-identification is being stripped down off of me. Not that I am back to where I was in my early 20’s necessarily, but more so that Jesus is lovingly – yet painfully – peeling back the layers of who I am so as to make room for more of Him.
As backwards as it may seem, I can see God using even something as broken and ugly as infertility to birth peace, wholeness, and life in me. Infertility has made me realize (slowly!) more and more that this life does not matter as much as we act like it does.
I am learning little by little that I do not love people because I have learned how to be a good friend.
I love people because Christ loves them: passionately, vulnerably, whole-heartedly – no matter what it costs.
(And You know what? Loving people is not for sissies! Loving people is raw and real and requires so much of you with the expectation of so very little in return. The truth is…. people don’t owe you their time, their gifts, their support, or their love. But love gives and gives anyway and Jesus fills those spaces in us that we have given away, so that we can give more.)
I am learning that being a friend/sister/daughter/cousin/niece/etc may be much different and more difficult than what I wish it was, but my Savior wants me to be His hands and feet to others no matter what I receive in return. So if that means lonely weekends, chronic family conflict that never seems to heal, and never feeling quite like I belong, then so be it. I belong to Jesus. Starting to learn this doesn’t fix the issues, but it makes the burden a little bit lighter.
I am learning that being a mother is so much more than physically birthing a child. Maybe in this life that is what defines it. Maybe in this life people will say, “You can never understand what it is like until you have had your own.” Well, maybe that is true and maybe it isn’t. But I do know that Jesus created the heart of a mother and He can create one in me. I may have babies of my own one day and I may not. I may adopt as many kids as our budget can handle and I may not. What I can do right now is wait and trust and hold onto hope with fists clenched tightly while I am a mother to the kids in our church nursery, our AWANA ministry, my friend’s kids, my nephews and niece, and any other child in need of a hug, a laugh, or a listening ear.
I am learning that none of the things we view as important that have so much to do with us, us, and US even matter.
I still don’t know how my life is going to pan out.
I don’t know how or when or if I will ever see my dreams come to fruition.
I don’t know how long God will continue to strip me of myself and replace the broken pieces of me with the sustaining pieces of Him.
I don’t even know how much I have left to give sometimes.
I have never cried so much in my life.
But…. I know He is faithful.
I know He is mine.
I am His.
So Jesus, wipe away my tears when life is just too much and people don’t seem to notice or have time to care.
Hold me when I have gone too many days without a decent hug.
Remind me that I have worth and a purpose and that I belong when those things seem to elude me too often.
Give me courage to face whatever you have in Your plans for me.
And let the rain continue to fall relentlessly and wash away every broken piece of my heart and my identity until you have it all….until all I desire is You.
So I don’t typically jump on the bandwagon of internet “hot topics,” but the recent death by suicide of beloved actor and comedian Robin Williams and his depression hit a little too close to home for me and made it difficult for me to be okay with the barrage of negative and judgmental commentary on Facebook about the choice he made. Let me be clear, I do think suicide is a choice. However, I understand and sympathize with the heavy feeling of deep darkness and hopelessness that accompanies depression and I could easily see how living with that depth of hopelessness for so long would make suicide seem like a good idea or the only escape, even if it’s not.
When you’re depressed you don’t think rationally and you don’t think very far ahead. It is quite difficult to see past the hollowness you feel in each empty, unsatisfying moment of your day… of your life. For me, the only way I escaped was with the support of dear friends and the constant gently nudging assurance of my Savior reminding me that He is holding me and that He is enough to satisfy. Robin Williams, for whatever reasons he had, felt he was out of options. He left a monumental amount of pain in the lives of those who loved him by choosing to end his own life, but I know that there is a God who loves and comforts. I pray for people to rise up around his friends and family to comfort them in their grief in this sudden season of loss. I grieve that Robin Williams didn’t seem to know the hope and comfort of God’s embrace. Without that, I would imagine that pulling yourself out of a clinical depression would be an insurmountable task.
A while back I read a book that changed my perspective on how to respond to disappointment, sorrow, and discouragement. The book “One Thousand Gifts” by Anne Voskamp states simply that life is full of countless blessings we often overlook and that it is next to impossible to remain sad or discouraged when you begin to recount to yourself all the blessings in your life. It is even better if you take the time to write them down. Blessings can take many forms. Any single thing from the comforting hug of a close friend to the way the sun seems to warm your skin from the inside out. Nothing is off limits if it’s something that brings you joy.
So I made a list.
I began my list back on 03/10/2013.
So far I have physically written down in my journal 230 things that I have been thankful for. I hope to keep this going for a long time, but my goal is to get to 1,000 things. I wasn’t always consistent and had gaps of times between reflection and journaling. Sometimes I would repeat something I was thankful for that I had written down several months earlier, but I didn’t want to create any inhibiting rules. I simply wrote down the things I was thankful for – the things that brought me great joy and peace on each particular day.
So in honor of my 100th WordPress blog post (Woohoo!!!), I am going to select and list out for you 100 of those things exactly how I wrote them in my journal and the dates on which I wrote them down. Enjoy. 🙂
3/10/2013:
1. My husband Chad
2. Memories
3. Green Ink Pens
4. Ice Water
5. Straws!
6. Our Temperpedic Bed
7. Candlelight
8. The first signs of Spring
3/16/2013
9. Comfy Leather Chairs
10. Hazelnut Mochas
11. Kimmie
12. Unlimited cell minutes
13. Cardigans
14. Vineyard church
15. Sleeping with the windows open
16. Netflix
17. Pumpkin, our circus kitty
18. Soft fuzzy yarn
19. Sense of smell
20. Stories
3/22/2013
21. Cool rain
22. People I can be myself with
23. Portland, OR
24. Outdoor patios
25. Tall trees
26. Brick courtyards
27. Pita
28. Slip on shoes
29. New friendships
30. Spontaneous compliments
3/24/2013
31. The breathing room of flying first class
32. Vodka cranberries
33. Laughter that replaces breathing
34. An assuring gentle touch
35. The company of like-minded people
36. Recognition for a job well done
37. The feeling of leaving the ground behind
38. Fog lifting off the water
39. Meeting Anne Fadiman
3/29/2013
40. Moments of reflection
41. Paid holidays
42. Pumpkin flavored things
43. Honest thoughts with God
44. Changing seasons
45. Building anticipation
46. Assurance that hard times have an expiration
47. Skin turning pink in the sun
48. Zeph. 3:17
49. The joy of blessing someone unexpectedly
50. Inside jokes
51. Ever-increasing comfort with another person
52. Finishing a great book
3/31/2013
53. Church family
54. Serving in Children’s Ministry
4/15/2013
55. Advancement of medical science
56. Kind nurses
57. Small needles
58. My good sense of direction/navigation
4/20/2013
59. Lazy Saturdays
60. Thick green grass
61. Banana bread with walnuts
4/26/2013
62. Gentle touches
63. Free fertility meds!!
64. Footstools
65. Time off on rainy days
66. Surprise phone calls
67. Plane tickets to loved ones
5/9/2013
68. Sunsets
69. Quiet places to just “be”
70. Just the right song lyrics
7/29/2013
71. Comfy colors like grey, plum, and navy
72. Jacket weather
73. New books to read
74. Warm fires
9/9/2013
75. Warm beds
76. Kitties snuggling at my feet
77. A good cry
10/3/2013
78. Melody Morgan
79. Matt Chandler podcasts
80. Pumpkin Spice Lattes
1/6/2014
81. That I am not homeless
2/3/2014
82. Thankful that my Granny is finally at rest
4/22/2014
83. That Pumpkin knows when I need kitty snuggles
84. That I got a really good hug from Deena today.
85. For friends like Jennifer who text just to check on me and make me feel very loved
86. That Kimmie prays with me on the phone and loves me 12 years later still…
87. For a husband who knows the perfect silly face to make me laugh when I need it the most…
5/2/2014
88. For new beginnings
6/25/2014
89. Feeling known
90. Feeling understood
91. Ocean breezes on Florida beaches
92. Aloe Vera gel/lotion
93. Tiny hands holding mine
94. Judah’s maniacal laughter
95. Late night movies with the Carters
96. Walks with Emily Donnelli
97. Direct flights
98. A really good back scratch
99. Chad missing me
8/2/2014
100. Seeing God stir something beautiful deep in Chad’s heart
If you made it this far and you’re still reading this, congrats! 😉
The funny thing about recognizing and being thankful for all the big and little things in your life that God has blessed you with is that it makes it hard to complain, feel sorry for yourself, and it is even difficult to obsess over the things you don’t have. As many of you know, these past few years have been incredibly hard for me (with the past year and a half being the worst of them). I have had so much pain and so much longing. I have fixated on the beautiful blessings God has given nearly every single person around me and sobbed over the fact that I did not have those same things. So it is amazing to me to look back over my journal and see the progression of where God has brought me and the blessings he gave along the way. On bad days he gave me friends to hug and friends to pray with me on the phone. On good days he gave me sunshine and Pumpkin Spice lattes and great books. Every time in between He has blessed me in one way or another.
So if you ever begin to feel like life is hard, overwhelming, or just plain hopeless and you can’t see a proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel” in sight…. begin to write things down.
One at a time.
Write down what you’re thankful for, even if it’s hard to think of something.
I promise that on your very worst days you have been blessed with something.
If you have a friend who is struggling with depression or anxiety, please PLEASE do not ask them to “cheer up” and “think of what they could be grateful for.” Instead, buy them a latte, give them a hug, invite them over for a movie…..
BE the blessing from God. BE the reason they have to smile and the reason they’re thankful.
how he behaves or what he does. With that love comes an extraordinary amount of vulnerability that leaves my heart walking around on the outside with him wherever he goes. When it comes to Travis, my heart remains unprotected. If things get difficult or circumstances like today leave me feeling dangerously exposed, I cannot distance myself from my love for him or allow it to fade away in order to protect it. There are no boundaries, no limits, and no control.
words are avenues 