Sunday, March 29, 2015
Finding Peace with A Formula Feeding Past
I know what you're thinking... not one of THESE posts! Hopefully, though, it will be more of a comfort to you than anything... we shall see. :)
Before we start I want to make two things perfectly clear.
1. I am uber impressed, blessed, in awe, and (if I'm totally honest), completely jealous of mothers who nurse long-term. God has given you the amazing gift of being able to physically, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally handle caring for an infant for months with your own body in a world drastically different from the one that existed in the time nursing was created. You are doing not only what's best for your baby - but all babies.. I have so much respect and love for you all.
2. Moms who choose formula from the get-go. You are confident in what's best for your family without fear of judgment from others. Kudos.
Here is comes: I am a stay-at-home, formula feeding mom. There- I said it-whew!! Let me introduce you to the circumstances surrounding this choice for all 3 of my littles:
Baby # 1, Cohen
I had every desire to nurse. Cohen did not. The hospital freaked out about jaundice due to his weak latch. They did not offer much help, but did put him on a bottle the entire first night. I struggled the first few weeks.. using formula for a couple feedings during that time. We got the hang of it for a couple weeks, then lost it again. I ask for an extra week off of work (I was at a daycare at the time) to focus with him, but to no avail. Fortunately, until 2 months, he was at least fed breastmilk during the day time with a bottle. We switched to exclusive formula feeding around that time.
Baby # 2, Ella
We were working at a boy's group home, and I knew it was going to be hard to nurse, but I wanted to try again. Ella was incredible! She never took a bottle for the first five weeks. I so enjoyed the time I got to spend nursing her. Sadly, though, when we moved back into the boys' home, her reflux and tummy problems kicked in. I didn't have the luxury of changing my diet and I wasn't about to struggle with her under a nursing cover while maintaining my duties as a houseparent to 8 troubled teenage boys. I pumped as long as I was able and she received at least some breastmilk daily until 2 1/2 months. Whatever she took, unfortunately, it didn't matter. She still screamed for 18 months. :/
Baby # 3, Elijah
Most of you already know this story. Despite the grief and trauma of his birth. I pumped at first and then breastfed in the NICU. We did great until about 4 weeks. He made it to about 2 months on mostly breastmilk, though bottle fed the second month. At this point, postpartum depression overwhelmed me and I had to leave him for extended periods a couple times to get mentally healthy.
So, here's what you need to know.
* After my initial miscarriage (pre-Cohen), I was not mentally well. God has chosen to begin his healing only now, 8 years later, despite my best efforts to get well all along. This is what He has chosen for my story. This mental illness made it extremely difficult to breastfeed.
* I learned as a child- perhaps I was unintentionally taught, like many of us thirty-somethings- that if I couldn't do something perfectly, I might as well just quit. With nursing, I pushed through way longer than what my flesh was comfortable with. My past was playing mind games with me the entire time. My husband begged me to stop with the first two babies.
* I only sought out breastfeeding help with consultants over the phone. My first experience was a consultant who was rude and condescending. I was ashamed and scared of judgment from that point forward. Luckily, my consultant, here in WV was super sweet, calming me and talking me through a heartbreaking nursing "vacation" while bathing and caring for her own children.
Here's why I am trying to make peace:
* My kids (6, 3, and 10 months) are happy, healthy and beautiful. Even though I couldn't give them the best start nutritionally as long as I would've liked, I have a 3 year old daughter who has superior vocabulary for her age and jumps up and down when I bring blueberries home, a 6 year old son who eats bell peppers like candy, reads at a 3rd grade level, and can multiply, and a 10 month old who giggles constantly and loves avocados. .... I think I'm doing ok.
* God is sovereign over all. If breastfeeding my littles long-term was part of his plan, He would've broken through and made it happen.
* Have you ever thought of how different breastfeeding is now than it was in biblical times? First of all, diet was different.. better in many ways. But even the pressures on Mom. I was just talking to a friend the other day about how when one woman was nursing in the book of Genesis, other women in the household (other wives, maidservants, aunts, mothers, etc.) were doing everything else... including taking care of the other children. For Christian women today, unless you're fortunate enough to be able to hire help, (which we are not), we are doing it mostly solo. We don't live in community like we used to. Many of us are not even physically and/or emotionally close to our mothers. Do you think formula, in a way, to be God's redemptive grace to those of us who are flying solo during the day?
Listen, as mothers, we all have areas where we are weak, weary, and even selfish.
Maybe one of my areas (even the selfish part) was nursing, but you have one or two areas as well.
Maybe you had the strength to push through, to seek help, to go for months nursing, despite the heartache and stress it may have caused at times. Maybe, it simply came really easy and totally naturally to you.
Maybe you decided to formula feed from the start because you really felt that it was what was best for your family.
Either way, you did it for a reason, and I am confident that any mother reading this loves her baby just as much as the next.
I feel like one of my strengths is speaking to children; explaining things in a way the understand. Sometimes, I listen to moms who don't have that gift and think, "Geez! Why can't they do what I do? It's soo easy! You may have to work at it for awhile, but eventually, it's second nature!"
But it's not to them.. and it may never be. Just like nursing was not to me. So, I need to do what I pray nursing moms can do for me - give them grace.
Whether it's this issue or another- I pray that we follow the old school rule and worry about ourselves.
REMEMBER THIS: You have no idea what is going on in someone else's life - their mind, heart, and body -NONE!
I pray that we can give grace and offer friendship to those who parent differently.
I'll be honest, I'm still searching for peace on the nursing issue. This blog is an attempt at that.. therapy almost. I think it's so hard because for one, I want to believe that I've done everything perfect for my child. This is sinful idolatry, not to mention impossible. Also, the enemy is telling me that I was somehow disobedient by not nursing my children longer, and that there will be consequences for that. (Yeah, he likes to mess with my theology. :)) Lastly, I feel judged. I want to take my children places. I want to be more of a part of mom support groups, but I feel like this is such a touchy topic, and that truthfully, many moms have and will judge me based on how I fed my own child their first year of life.
I have to constantly remind myself this - That if I am in Christ, I am loved, my babies were given to me on purpose, and that He will use even my weaknesses for my good and His glory.
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Joy and Suffering: A Suprisingly Beautiful Harmony and My Journey Back to Life
I've been looking at the computer monitor for a few minutes and I just take these deep breaths. Most of you know our horrible, beautiful, ridiculous story, or at least parts of it.
I haven't written for a long time. There's a reason for that. I told myself that I wouldn't write publically until I was standing on the other side of the chasm. I can confidently say that I am. I can also say with much certainty that Jesus plucked me up and dropped me on the other side. HE did it. No other explanation.
So, in this blog post, I will first share the facts. I will then share the journey.
The Facts
In October of 2013, we found out we were pregnant. It was planned and I was excited! This would be our third and final pregnancy. I was sooo happy for a third child, but I was equally happy to be done. Pregnancy and nursing had been hard for me mentally and emotionally. With my anxiety disorders, I was always more on edge during these times, and although I would take a house full of children, this biological thing was wearing me down.
I had an early ultrasound that showed a beautiful little peanut with a beating heart in November.
In January, there were two. They were sharing the same placenta, and their amnionic sacs were so close together that the technician could barely see the line that divided them.
A week later, she could tell an ounce difference in their size. She strongly suggested that we see a fetal specialist, but our OB didn't seem concerned.
A couple weeks and another ultrasound later, the specialist called us. He had seen our ultrasound and he wanted us in his clinic ASAP.
We went, and it was a dark, but not yet the darkest, day. He told us that our babies had Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome. They were sharing blood vessels. One was taking in all the nutrients and the other was only receiving waste. One was growing too fast; the other, too slow. Left alone, the little one would die in utero; the bigger one, a few days to a week after birth.
BUT.. there was hope. Cincinnatti Children's Hospital performed a surgery that would severe the vessels and as long as we came promptly, both our sweet boys would be saved and healthy.
Sounded like a great plan, but it wasn't God's.
We went.. and after a great day of hopeful tests, there was horrific news. The baby's umbilical cords were too close together. If the surgeons were to enter my womb, they would both most likely kill them both.
Now, we had to just wait. I had to take awful meds, stay on bedrest, visit Cincy every week, and wait.
So for a whole month, we did this. All the while, thinking of the endless possibilities... Death for both infants. Two very sick babies in the NICU for months. Two severely disabled children. One severely disabled and one normal child.... the list was endless... and we had no clue what to prepare for... we couldn't even prepare our hearts.
On a Wednesday, my fetal specialist in Huntington said, "Your little guy is dying and the longer you wait, the greater the chances that it will be too late for your bigger guy's heart, and the greater the risk of stroke." I thought, "What a downer! Cincinnati Children's is so much more positive!"
But the next day, on our drive from our Cincy hotel to the hospital, we talked about it.
We had decided to call our boys Micah and Elijah. They deserved names .. no matter what. It was easy to name our big twin Elijah. After all, in the Bible, Elijah was larger than life.
Micah was dying. He's suffering, so should we just end it? "Pull the plug" so to speak? What about our belief in God? What about Elijah? We didn't know what to do...
But God did, and He did it.
We found out in the boys' echo that He had taken Micah home.
Sadness and relief had never mingled so intricately together in my heart. We wept and lamented a little, but aside from a 30% chance of stroke for Elijah, the nightmare was over. So many questions had been answered and resolved.. We could breathe again.
A month later, Elijah had a final echo and MRI.. Beautiful heart, beautiful mind.. and who says there isn't a God?
I never anticipated what it would be like for a woman like me who struggled with OCD and anxiety, to carry a deceased and a living child at the same time. It was HARD. I'll talk more about that later.
I just survived. I didn't take pics, I didn't enjoy the pregnancy, I just went through the motions.
Then, came week 35. I was so mad when my doc told me he wanted to induce and refused to wait until 40 weeks. I was ticked when he told me that because of going this route, my little boy would spend a week in the NICU. He wanted to be safe. I wanted a happy, healthy full-term baby.
On the other hand, never had I been so ready to not be pregnant. Never had I been so ready to purge the tragedy that had occurred in my body. So, we did it.
After 34 hours of labor, Micah was presenting and was taken from my womb so that Elijah could move down. We had already said our goodbyes. We thought we'd already mourned. They said he would be so tiny we could barely recognize him. They compared his shriveled "cocoon" to a quarter. But this wasn't the case. He was a 1 lb. baby. With little fingers and toes... everything.
So, Micah had been retrieved and it was time to deliver Elijah as soon as he came down. Unfortunately, when the nurse placed the monitor back on my belly, there was nothing. No heartbeat, no movement. And when the doctor was called in, the head monitor made the most horrific.... dut........dut....................dut. All the color drained out of her face, and I'll never forget her words.....
"Honey, we don't have time for a C section and I know that you're only at 8 cm, but you MUST push."
I pushed... so hard, but I pushed, screaming in fear, and all the while hearing almost audibly, "Crystal, you MUST trust me. My will is for you to trust me."
A moment later, my sweet Elijah. The cord was wrapped around his neck three times, but it was quickly removed and oh, that beautiful scream. Louder than El and Cohen when they were born. The most faith-confirming, worshipful, God-glorifying scream I had ever heard. And then, more words from the doctor that I will never forget.
"He's ok, He's just perfect, and Mom, you saved his life."
We were emotional over our other two, but for Ryan and I, the tears just flowed with our little Elijah, our larger than life little boy.
It occurred to me, hours later, that at 40 weeks, he would've been too big. I couldn't have "saved his life". We would've lost them both. Call it coincidence, luck... I call it Sovereignty. I call it mercy. I call it a Powerful, Mighty God.
So, those are the facts, but the journey had just begun.
The Journey
I want to say that during my journey, God used soo many people. Some still don't know how deeply their words effected my spirit. I never, ever want the positive thoughts and notions to come across as Crystal originals. A few of these people included my counselor, our four supportive parents, a dear friend in Indiana, a dear friend in Tennessee, and my best girlfriend here. But there were many more, including an entire ladies support group and I know, so many of you praying.
No one helped me more than my wonderful, faithful, husband. When he promised for better or worse, he didn't know what he was promising, but he has stood by my side and loved my broken self like I was whole. Ridiculously. Loyal.
Micah's death started it all. I had been in denial and survival mode until then. Then, life slowed down and I began to see the bigness, the tragedy, the sadness of the situation. But, the interesting thing about my brain is that it doesn't process those emotions very well.. It seeks avoidance.. and it finds it in OCD.
I began to clean, I began to refuse to eat many foods, I began to research the most obscure things on the internet. It ebbed and flowed before Elijah's birth and stay in the NICU, and then it took off after life got back to normal and even after we gave our testimony at church.
I stayed up for hours on end looking at fringe articles and coming up with all the ways I had destroyed my children... I hadn't homemade their baby food, I didn't try hard enough to nurse, I used too many chemicals on their skin and in our house, I bathed them too much, I gave them too many vitamins.. I had killed my children.. I had shortened their days.. and then the morning came. I had figured it out. I was sure of it.
Micah's death was my fault. I had done it. There was no other explanation.
Enter the darkness. The desperation. The week at my parent's house with my kids where a bottle of pills looked like a pleasant way out. Never thought that before. But my kids didn't deserve me. They needed a better mother. I told my parents what I was thinking. I went to the hospital. I stayed a week. I got on some meds. God started his healing.
I was seeing a Christian counselor and doing well, but it happened again... the darkness, the desparation, and I was back in the hospital. More meds, but a horrific experience. Here I was with Postpartum, OCD, Generalized Anxiety, PTSD, and now, a new dose of the last.
But, between that July day that I left the second hospital and now, God performed a miracle. A true miracle.
For seven years...SEVEN... I had been angry and confused. Upon my first miscarriage, I put my Bible down and rarely picked it up. It ebbed and flowed with our moves and losses. The basic premise was "But God, I went to a Christian school, I married a PASTOR, we waited 3 years before we tried to have children, I've followed him everywhere, and .... how could you not bless me?? How could you not give me my desires??"
And then, as of recent, in this grief-stricken, terrible time, I became passionate about reading His word again, and writing to him continually, and I began to realize he TRULY loved me. I want every mother to hear this. Every mother with a regenerate, Christian heart, because it's the truth.
You say, "I am a dispicable mom. I feed my kids the wrong things. I'm selfish. I haven't been "natural" enough. I screamed today. I'm worthless, I'm useless, I'm not doing it right. I shouldn't be working, I should stay home. I sin against my kids. There are times I put my needs above theirs. I feel guilty because I didn't nurse. I feel guilty because they didn't have a vegetable today. I feel guilty because their father walked out. I feel guilty because I can't provide for them what I want to. "
Jesus said, "You're right about one thing. You are despicable. You are a daughter of Eve. A sinner. Imperfect. Dirty, filthy rags in the sight of my father. You have no ability to earn God's love. You are his enemy. Because he is just. Because he is perfect. Because he is holy. Left to yourself, You will never, ever win his approval.
But.. then there's Me. I sacrificed my life for you. I lived and died for you. If you believe, if you have put all your trust in Me, you should know that I took all that disgustingness that oozes from you away from you and carried it with me to the Cross. You are perfect in the sight of a Holy God. You are His child; unconditionally loved by Him. It is finished. Live for me."
OR..
You say, "I'm such a good mom. I make and serve a perfectly clean diet. I never raise my voice to my kids. I nursed all my babies. I find parenting easy. I use oils all the time. I would never think of putting a paraben anywhere near my kid. I work out. My 18 month old knows all his ABCs. I'm a great example."
Jesus says, "You are miserably wrong. Even your best days, your most compassionate and well intended works; they are filthy rags to God. You are no better than the mom on the street corner. You are filled with pride and arrogance and through your obsession over these menial, trivial things, you are filling other moms; weaker, younger, baby Christian moms with anxiety and fear. You are causing them to sin."
But.. then there's Me. You MUST lay down your own righteousness and take mine. Trust in me. Rely on my Spirit. You don't have to find your self-worth in such shallow places. You can be a daughter of the King, and you can stop running on your own fuel.. because you'll run out, and your husband and kids will suffer.. and you will be lost. Let go. Just let go. Follow me."
My biggest lesson learned from all my "research"? There is a mom war in our culture. It has permeated the church, and it breaks the heart of God.
Our life has been blessed, but nuts. From youth ministry, to work in a boys' home, crossing the state lines again back into youth ministry here.....and, now preparing for the day where eventually, we will shepherd a flock.
I look back and think of all the things I've done wrong. Every single quirk and tantrum I've blamed either on my anxiety or "stupidity". I get on facebook and see six pack abs and pictures of meals cooked by moms who spend all day in the kitchen and think I'm the stay-at-home mom community's award-winning failure.
I also go to the flip side, and think, "Man, look at this mom, on her third baby daddy, only getting to see those precious ones half the time... I'm sooo much better than her."
Yeah, I do both. I swing like a pendulum. Mostly to despair.. mostly to "bad mom" talk, but only now am I finding the blessed middle. I have friends that live in the middle....
That middle mom, she's the one who you can tell REALLY enjoys her children.
She's the one who doesn't let others' posts that are clearly self praising get her down, but she doesn't play the game either. Nope.. she just keeps talking about how blessed she is, how much God has given her. She points to him. When she posts pics, they can be of her children's greatest achievements or of them.. ahem... showing their depraved nature. ;)
She doesn't have time for the competition, the game because she's too busy enjoying her kids. She's the one who makes sure her kids eat their veggies as much as she can, but also secretly enjoys watching them delight in a big fat brownie with ice cream or a 4 pack of nuggets occasionally from McDonald's (or Ole' Donald's as my middle child calls it. :)).
She's not afraid of parabens or germs, but she does her best to be as natural as she can, as healthy as she can, as well-rounded as she can, and as loving as she can. She leans on Christ, and when she lays her head on her pillow, she rests in His Sovereignty over the Clorox wipe her kid decided to eat that day. :)
That mom.... wasn't me before we lost Micah... but she's becoming me...because I'm being transformed into the likeness of Christ. He's moving in a way I never thought imaginable.
Love. That's the key. If you truly love your kids the way Christ does, you will be absolutely compelled to give them healthy foods, to make sure they get plenty of exercise and limit their screens. You will be sure to set the example. You will avoid letting your kids see you lose your cool. You will preach the gospel and read the Bible to them. You will be a "good mom".
But, you will not be perfect, and the peace of knowing that Christ is your perfection so you don't have to be... that you can even LAUGH at your imperfections and how they shine so brilliantly in your own children.. will cover you like a warm blanket.
The biggest thing that I've taken away from the mom thing (which is really a "Christ obedience" thing) is that no matter how much I think I've screwed up with my kids.....
They are COMPLETELY who and where God wants them to be.
COMPLETELY. Can you comprehend that? No matter if they're babies or grown, He's sovereign, He's absolutely in control over their life, and no matter what you "put them through", He let you. So who are you really calling a screw up??
Do you know what this means? It means you can move forward TODAY. You can forgive yourself when breakfast is a cold bowl of lucky charms and you can teach your kids about humility when you yell and have to say you're sorry. It means that you can use that very scenario to talk to them about the gospel, how we're all screwed up, but if we believe, Christ has already taken care of that. You can be a sister in Christ to your child when they come to know Jesus instead of just Mom. You can punish when it's needed and delight in your children and spouse and you can move forward when you make mistakes and sin; simply learning from it and not drowning in guilt over it.
So.. how do I feel about Micah's death now??
Listen, I could do EVERYTHING to keep my kids alive. I could lather them with essential oils (which I do on occasion because I like them :)), I could cook with nothing artificial and everything organic ( and I try to do as much as I can), and I could make sure they got fresh air and a Vitamin D sun bath everyday. BUT if I don't live with a healthy recognition that I could put them in the car, reach down to turn the heat up, blow through a stop sign, and loose all three of them at once, then I just don't get it.
God allows and chooses. We don't get to pick. We just get to live in the peace that it's all for our good and His glory.
No, Micah's death wasn't my fault. If there was ever anything that wasn't my fault, that was it. It was an anatomical anomaly that had nothing to do with what I did or didn't do.
But I will tell you that God has, is and will be using it. I would never call my baby's death a blessing, but it was His sovereign will. His design to wake. me. up. And that little boy, He's safer in the arms of Jesus than he'll ever be with me, and that deserves praise to Him who reigns and it brings me a peace beyond compare. So much peace, that I am med free, and His grace abounds.
I beg you...love your kids. First and foremost, continually give them the gospel daily. Let that be their first and most natural food.. Then do your best to nourish those little minds and bodies so that they can be, like we say in our house.. "BIG, STRONG, and HEALTHY!" That's simply being obedient to Your Rescuer, Jesus. But don't think for a moment that these things will add days to their life or keep them from sin. You're just not in charge of that. You don't get to pick. You don't have to be in control...
So shout "Amen!", shut off the lies of facebook, shut down your laptop, and go enjoy those precious babies as worship to your God.
I haven't written for a long time. There's a reason for that. I told myself that I wouldn't write publically until I was standing on the other side of the chasm. I can confidently say that I am. I can also say with much certainty that Jesus plucked me up and dropped me on the other side. HE did it. No other explanation.
So, in this blog post, I will first share the facts. I will then share the journey.
The Facts
In October of 2013, we found out we were pregnant. It was planned and I was excited! This would be our third and final pregnancy. I was sooo happy for a third child, but I was equally happy to be done. Pregnancy and nursing had been hard for me mentally and emotionally. With my anxiety disorders, I was always more on edge during these times, and although I would take a house full of children, this biological thing was wearing me down.
I had an early ultrasound that showed a beautiful little peanut with a beating heart in November.
In January, there were two. They were sharing the same placenta, and their amnionic sacs were so close together that the technician could barely see the line that divided them.
A week later, she could tell an ounce difference in their size. She strongly suggested that we see a fetal specialist, but our OB didn't seem concerned.
A couple weeks and another ultrasound later, the specialist called us. He had seen our ultrasound and he wanted us in his clinic ASAP.
We went, and it was a dark, but not yet the darkest, day. He told us that our babies had Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome. They were sharing blood vessels. One was taking in all the nutrients and the other was only receiving waste. One was growing too fast; the other, too slow. Left alone, the little one would die in utero; the bigger one, a few days to a week after birth.
BUT.. there was hope. Cincinnatti Children's Hospital performed a surgery that would severe the vessels and as long as we came promptly, both our sweet boys would be saved and healthy.
Sounded like a great plan, but it wasn't God's.
We went.. and after a great day of hopeful tests, there was horrific news. The baby's umbilical cords were too close together. If the surgeons were to enter my womb, they would both most likely kill them both.
Now, we had to just wait. I had to take awful meds, stay on bedrest, visit Cincy every week, and wait.
So for a whole month, we did this. All the while, thinking of the endless possibilities... Death for both infants. Two very sick babies in the NICU for months. Two severely disabled children. One severely disabled and one normal child.... the list was endless... and we had no clue what to prepare for... we couldn't even prepare our hearts.
On a Wednesday, my fetal specialist in Huntington said, "Your little guy is dying and the longer you wait, the greater the chances that it will be too late for your bigger guy's heart, and the greater the risk of stroke." I thought, "What a downer! Cincinnati Children's is so much more positive!"
But the next day, on our drive from our Cincy hotel to the hospital, we talked about it.
We had decided to call our boys Micah and Elijah. They deserved names .. no matter what. It was easy to name our big twin Elijah. After all, in the Bible, Elijah was larger than life.
Micah was dying. He's suffering, so should we just end it? "Pull the plug" so to speak? What about our belief in God? What about Elijah? We didn't know what to do...
But God did, and He did it.
We found out in the boys' echo that He had taken Micah home.
Sadness and relief had never mingled so intricately together in my heart. We wept and lamented a little, but aside from a 30% chance of stroke for Elijah, the nightmare was over. So many questions had been answered and resolved.. We could breathe again.
A month later, Elijah had a final echo and MRI.. Beautiful heart, beautiful mind.. and who says there isn't a God?
I never anticipated what it would be like for a woman like me who struggled with OCD and anxiety, to carry a deceased and a living child at the same time. It was HARD. I'll talk more about that later.
I just survived. I didn't take pics, I didn't enjoy the pregnancy, I just went through the motions.
Then, came week 35. I was so mad when my doc told me he wanted to induce and refused to wait until 40 weeks. I was ticked when he told me that because of going this route, my little boy would spend a week in the NICU. He wanted to be safe. I wanted a happy, healthy full-term baby.
On the other hand, never had I been so ready to not be pregnant. Never had I been so ready to purge the tragedy that had occurred in my body. So, we did it.
After 34 hours of labor, Micah was presenting and was taken from my womb so that Elijah could move down. We had already said our goodbyes. We thought we'd already mourned. They said he would be so tiny we could barely recognize him. They compared his shriveled "cocoon" to a quarter. But this wasn't the case. He was a 1 lb. baby. With little fingers and toes... everything.
So, Micah had been retrieved and it was time to deliver Elijah as soon as he came down. Unfortunately, when the nurse placed the monitor back on my belly, there was nothing. No heartbeat, no movement. And when the doctor was called in, the head monitor made the most horrific.... dut........dut....................dut. All the color drained out of her face, and I'll never forget her words.....
"Honey, we don't have time for a C section and I know that you're only at 8 cm, but you MUST push."
I pushed... so hard, but I pushed, screaming in fear, and all the while hearing almost audibly, "Crystal, you MUST trust me. My will is for you to trust me."
A moment later, my sweet Elijah. The cord was wrapped around his neck three times, but it was quickly removed and oh, that beautiful scream. Louder than El and Cohen when they were born. The most faith-confirming, worshipful, God-glorifying scream I had ever heard. And then, more words from the doctor that I will never forget.
"He's ok, He's just perfect, and Mom, you saved his life."
We were emotional over our other two, but for Ryan and I, the tears just flowed with our little Elijah, our larger than life little boy.
It occurred to me, hours later, that at 40 weeks, he would've been too big. I couldn't have "saved his life". We would've lost them both. Call it coincidence, luck... I call it Sovereignty. I call it mercy. I call it a Powerful, Mighty God.
So, those are the facts, but the journey had just begun.
The Journey
I want to say that during my journey, God used soo many people. Some still don't know how deeply their words effected my spirit. I never, ever want the positive thoughts and notions to come across as Crystal originals. A few of these people included my counselor, our four supportive parents, a dear friend in Indiana, a dear friend in Tennessee, and my best girlfriend here. But there were many more, including an entire ladies support group and I know, so many of you praying.
No one helped me more than my wonderful, faithful, husband. When he promised for better or worse, he didn't know what he was promising, but he has stood by my side and loved my broken self like I was whole. Ridiculously. Loyal.
Micah's death started it all. I had been in denial and survival mode until then. Then, life slowed down and I began to see the bigness, the tragedy, the sadness of the situation. But, the interesting thing about my brain is that it doesn't process those emotions very well.. It seeks avoidance.. and it finds it in OCD.
I began to clean, I began to refuse to eat many foods, I began to research the most obscure things on the internet. It ebbed and flowed before Elijah's birth and stay in the NICU, and then it took off after life got back to normal and even after we gave our testimony at church.
I stayed up for hours on end looking at fringe articles and coming up with all the ways I had destroyed my children... I hadn't homemade their baby food, I didn't try hard enough to nurse, I used too many chemicals on their skin and in our house, I bathed them too much, I gave them too many vitamins.. I had killed my children.. I had shortened their days.. and then the morning came. I had figured it out. I was sure of it.
Micah's death was my fault. I had done it. There was no other explanation.
Enter the darkness. The desperation. The week at my parent's house with my kids where a bottle of pills looked like a pleasant way out. Never thought that before. But my kids didn't deserve me. They needed a better mother. I told my parents what I was thinking. I went to the hospital. I stayed a week. I got on some meds. God started his healing.
I was seeing a Christian counselor and doing well, but it happened again... the darkness, the desparation, and I was back in the hospital. More meds, but a horrific experience. Here I was with Postpartum, OCD, Generalized Anxiety, PTSD, and now, a new dose of the last.
But, between that July day that I left the second hospital and now, God performed a miracle. A true miracle.
For seven years...SEVEN... I had been angry and confused. Upon my first miscarriage, I put my Bible down and rarely picked it up. It ebbed and flowed with our moves and losses. The basic premise was "But God, I went to a Christian school, I married a PASTOR, we waited 3 years before we tried to have children, I've followed him everywhere, and .... how could you not bless me?? How could you not give me my desires??"
And then, as of recent, in this grief-stricken, terrible time, I became passionate about reading His word again, and writing to him continually, and I began to realize he TRULY loved me. I want every mother to hear this. Every mother with a regenerate, Christian heart, because it's the truth.
You say, "I am a dispicable mom. I feed my kids the wrong things. I'm selfish. I haven't been "natural" enough. I screamed today. I'm worthless, I'm useless, I'm not doing it right. I shouldn't be working, I should stay home. I sin against my kids. There are times I put my needs above theirs. I feel guilty because I didn't nurse. I feel guilty because they didn't have a vegetable today. I feel guilty because their father walked out. I feel guilty because I can't provide for them what I want to. "
Jesus said, "You're right about one thing. You are despicable. You are a daughter of Eve. A sinner. Imperfect. Dirty, filthy rags in the sight of my father. You have no ability to earn God's love. You are his enemy. Because he is just. Because he is perfect. Because he is holy. Left to yourself, You will never, ever win his approval.
But.. then there's Me. I sacrificed my life for you. I lived and died for you. If you believe, if you have put all your trust in Me, you should know that I took all that disgustingness that oozes from you away from you and carried it with me to the Cross. You are perfect in the sight of a Holy God. You are His child; unconditionally loved by Him. It is finished. Live for me."
OR..
You say, "I'm such a good mom. I make and serve a perfectly clean diet. I never raise my voice to my kids. I nursed all my babies. I find parenting easy. I use oils all the time. I would never think of putting a paraben anywhere near my kid. I work out. My 18 month old knows all his ABCs. I'm a great example."
Jesus says, "You are miserably wrong. Even your best days, your most compassionate and well intended works; they are filthy rags to God. You are no better than the mom on the street corner. You are filled with pride and arrogance and through your obsession over these menial, trivial things, you are filling other moms; weaker, younger, baby Christian moms with anxiety and fear. You are causing them to sin."
But.. then there's Me. You MUST lay down your own righteousness and take mine. Trust in me. Rely on my Spirit. You don't have to find your self-worth in such shallow places. You can be a daughter of the King, and you can stop running on your own fuel.. because you'll run out, and your husband and kids will suffer.. and you will be lost. Let go. Just let go. Follow me."
My biggest lesson learned from all my "research"? There is a mom war in our culture. It has permeated the church, and it breaks the heart of God.
Our life has been blessed, but nuts. From youth ministry, to work in a boys' home, crossing the state lines again back into youth ministry here.....and, now preparing for the day where eventually, we will shepherd a flock.
I look back and think of all the things I've done wrong. Every single quirk and tantrum I've blamed either on my anxiety or "stupidity". I get on facebook and see six pack abs and pictures of meals cooked by moms who spend all day in the kitchen and think I'm the stay-at-home mom community's award-winning failure.
I also go to the flip side, and think, "Man, look at this mom, on her third baby daddy, only getting to see those precious ones half the time... I'm sooo much better than her."
Yeah, I do both. I swing like a pendulum. Mostly to despair.. mostly to "bad mom" talk, but only now am I finding the blessed middle. I have friends that live in the middle....
That middle mom, she's the one who you can tell REALLY enjoys her children.
She's the one who doesn't let others' posts that are clearly self praising get her down, but she doesn't play the game either. Nope.. she just keeps talking about how blessed she is, how much God has given her. She points to him. When she posts pics, they can be of her children's greatest achievements or of them.. ahem... showing their depraved nature. ;)
She doesn't have time for the competition, the game because she's too busy enjoying her kids. She's the one who makes sure her kids eat their veggies as much as she can, but also secretly enjoys watching them delight in a big fat brownie with ice cream or a 4 pack of nuggets occasionally from McDonald's (or Ole' Donald's as my middle child calls it. :)).
She's not afraid of parabens or germs, but she does her best to be as natural as she can, as healthy as she can, as well-rounded as she can, and as loving as she can. She leans on Christ, and when she lays her head on her pillow, she rests in His Sovereignty over the Clorox wipe her kid decided to eat that day. :)
That mom.... wasn't me before we lost Micah... but she's becoming me...because I'm being transformed into the likeness of Christ. He's moving in a way I never thought imaginable.
Love. That's the key. If you truly love your kids the way Christ does, you will be absolutely compelled to give them healthy foods, to make sure they get plenty of exercise and limit their screens. You will be sure to set the example. You will avoid letting your kids see you lose your cool. You will preach the gospel and read the Bible to them. You will be a "good mom".
But, you will not be perfect, and the peace of knowing that Christ is your perfection so you don't have to be... that you can even LAUGH at your imperfections and how they shine so brilliantly in your own children.. will cover you like a warm blanket.
The biggest thing that I've taken away from the mom thing (which is really a "Christ obedience" thing) is that no matter how much I think I've screwed up with my kids.....
They are COMPLETELY who and where God wants them to be.
COMPLETELY. Can you comprehend that? No matter if they're babies or grown, He's sovereign, He's absolutely in control over their life, and no matter what you "put them through", He let you. So who are you really calling a screw up??
Do you know what this means? It means you can move forward TODAY. You can forgive yourself when breakfast is a cold bowl of lucky charms and you can teach your kids about humility when you yell and have to say you're sorry. It means that you can use that very scenario to talk to them about the gospel, how we're all screwed up, but if we believe, Christ has already taken care of that. You can be a sister in Christ to your child when they come to know Jesus instead of just Mom. You can punish when it's needed and delight in your children and spouse and you can move forward when you make mistakes and sin; simply learning from it and not drowning in guilt over it.
So.. how do I feel about Micah's death now??
Listen, I could do EVERYTHING to keep my kids alive. I could lather them with essential oils (which I do on occasion because I like them :)), I could cook with nothing artificial and everything organic ( and I try to do as much as I can), and I could make sure they got fresh air and a Vitamin D sun bath everyday. BUT if I don't live with a healthy recognition that I could put them in the car, reach down to turn the heat up, blow through a stop sign, and loose all three of them at once, then I just don't get it.
God allows and chooses. We don't get to pick. We just get to live in the peace that it's all for our good and His glory.
No, Micah's death wasn't my fault. If there was ever anything that wasn't my fault, that was it. It was an anatomical anomaly that had nothing to do with what I did or didn't do.
But I will tell you that God has, is and will be using it. I would never call my baby's death a blessing, but it was His sovereign will. His design to wake. me. up. And that little boy, He's safer in the arms of Jesus than he'll ever be with me, and that deserves praise to Him who reigns and it brings me a peace beyond compare. So much peace, that I am med free, and His grace abounds.
I beg you...love your kids. First and foremost, continually give them the gospel daily. Let that be their first and most natural food.. Then do your best to nourish those little minds and bodies so that they can be, like we say in our house.. "BIG, STRONG, and HEALTHY!" That's simply being obedient to Your Rescuer, Jesus. But don't think for a moment that these things will add days to their life or keep them from sin. You're just not in charge of that. You don't get to pick. You don't have to be in control...
So shout "Amen!", shut off the lies of facebook, shut down your laptop, and go enjoy those precious babies as worship to your God.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Zimmerman Trial, Parenting, and Jesus
There's something a bit crazy about 2 conservative Christians taking their 14-month-old baby boy, whom they had tried for 2 years to conceive, into a home of troubled kids in hopes of not only financially providing for themselves, but winning some to Jesus. Yep, pretty nuts. But through our ignorance and the grace of Jesus we did it.. 3 years ago...
We also became pregnant with and housed a baby girl in that home for a couple months, and although it was tough, I wouldn't trade the lessons learned there for any amount of money.
As the Zimmerman trial came to an end, I got the opportunity to hear some of the 911 tapes and to see the face of the 17 year old boy, gone from this world and the middle-aged Zimmerman, who no longer will ever be truly free. I didn't really follow the case, and I've read a very small amount about this teenage kid, but what is interesting to me personally is how in the last few days as I've seen the unavoidable trial coverage, God has led me back in my thoughts to that house and those boys, into whom we invested almost 2 years of our lives... my husband much more than I.
I think there's so many reasons for the flashbacks, but let me hit on a few in hopes that you might gain a better perspective of the great ironies that have come to mind. Maybe you'll also be able to weave them into the Martin Zimmerman case, the way my spaghetti brain and heart has:
1.) While there were times I struggled with a deep fear and anxiety over our children being around the influences of the boys in the cottage, we loved them deeply. There is no question that we would always choose our flesh and blood, whom we have a biological, biblical, first obligation to over the boys. If one of them would've hurt our children, all you would've seen is our dust as we high-tailed it out of there. However, that didn't change the God-glorifying, grace-giving affection that we had for each of them, even when they were driving us completely mad! It also didn't change the fact that as tough as they were, when they played with my babies, I couldn't help but envision their last pinky finger clinging to innocence and their deep desire to be loved as a kid ( at 16, 17, 18 years old) all over again.
2.) I can remember so often when I was pregnant with El, having single moms, grandmoms, and dads of these boys come into our home and rejoice with us over the new life growing inside. I remember wondering if they wanted a do-over, if they felt cheated or like a failure because they had to give their babies over to us. And then, I thought, "they" could so easily be "I". I mean, I had a spouse, a mom, a dad, and two supportive in-laws. I would venture to say that not one of these parents had anywhere close to what I had, namely Jesus, and it broke my heart. I'm so weak, so guilty, so broken.. no more holy or righteous than them, but for some reason they were standing there and I was standing here and I wondered why in the world God had chosen someone as naïve, weak, and failing as me to speak into the lives of these families.
3.) I can remember sitting in on several occasions listening to Ryan tell a boy that his actions could get him in jail, or worse, killed and hoping that that would never happen. Although they probably would've had it coming, I never wanted that for them, not even the ones I butted heads with daily.
4.) When we moved here, and as the mild PTSD of our formerly crazy life wore off, I began to see the world, my Savior, and those around me with new lenses. All the way from the babies I cuddled in the nursery at church to the college age kids were someone's baby. My heart both broke and praised Jesus when kids started opening up to Ryan about things they'd never told anyone before...that's why we had been led to the boys' home...so that we could see even the toughest, hardest, snottiest teenage kid as a beloved child, the way God sees us. There just not as intimidating anymore.. I can look at the beautiful, "somewhat" innocent eyes of my four-year-old boy and see the same sparkle in the eyes of a too-cool-for-school 17 year old. There's virtually no difference except their brains may be a few years closer to full growth. They want to be loved and told their worth something. They want to be disciplined. They want to know that they matter.
Now... Trayvon.
I don't know how he was raised. I know Dad was tough on him, but no more than that. I would venture to say that his mom and dad loved him, despite the fact that they didn't live in the same home, despite the fact that he had weed and suspensions in his background, I believe they were doing all they knew how... which is all any of us can, really.
I would venture to guess that he probably made some really bad choices that night. Inexcusable for a man, expected from a 17-year-old who wants to believe he's a man.
Did he deserve to get shot? Nah, probably not.
From the sound of the 911 calls before the confrontation, Zimmerman seemed a little too amped up already to me. I mean, we live smack in the middle of town where "interesting characters" (of no one specific race, gender, or stereotype)go right past our house on a daily basis. Although I'd guess some are junkies, I don't think one of them would harm us. Besides, with God on our side, I think we'll save 911 and gunfire for immediate danger only. :)
For me, my heartbreak has nothing to do with identifying Martin as a race, and everything to do with seeing my baby boy in his eyes, hardened or soft, as they are flashed on the T.V. screen.
What a depraved, sinful race we are, fighting with and killing one another for fear and pride, wasting hours of our precious time on this earth complaining that a man we didn't even know who shot a boy we didn't even know walked free, rejoicing that a man was declared "Not guilty" while the reality is t hat there is someone's little boy 6 feet underground, and another man and his family will live in guilt and fear.. forever.
Why are we living in these extremes, these disgusted and elated emotions? Why aren't there more of us who follow Christ mourning over the depravity this case brought to light and trying to glean from it what our Father is trying to teach us?
I do not have an answer for that, but what I can say is that we can all learn something.. as long as there's breath in our lungs...
We also became pregnant with and housed a baby girl in that home for a couple months, and although it was tough, I wouldn't trade the lessons learned there for any amount of money.
As the Zimmerman trial came to an end, I got the opportunity to hear some of the 911 tapes and to see the face of the 17 year old boy, gone from this world and the middle-aged Zimmerman, who no longer will ever be truly free. I didn't really follow the case, and I've read a very small amount about this teenage kid, but what is interesting to me personally is how in the last few days as I've seen the unavoidable trial coverage, God has led me back in my thoughts to that house and those boys, into whom we invested almost 2 years of our lives... my husband much more than I.
I think there's so many reasons for the flashbacks, but let me hit on a few in hopes that you might gain a better perspective of the great ironies that have come to mind. Maybe you'll also be able to weave them into the Martin Zimmerman case, the way my spaghetti brain and heart has:
1.) While there were times I struggled with a deep fear and anxiety over our children being around the influences of the boys in the cottage, we loved them deeply. There is no question that we would always choose our flesh and blood, whom we have a biological, biblical, first obligation to over the boys. If one of them would've hurt our children, all you would've seen is our dust as we high-tailed it out of there. However, that didn't change the God-glorifying, grace-giving affection that we had for each of them, even when they were driving us completely mad! It also didn't change the fact that as tough as they were, when they played with my babies, I couldn't help but envision their last pinky finger clinging to innocence and their deep desire to be loved as a kid ( at 16, 17, 18 years old) all over again.
2.) I can remember so often when I was pregnant with El, having single moms, grandmoms, and dads of these boys come into our home and rejoice with us over the new life growing inside. I remember wondering if they wanted a do-over, if they felt cheated or like a failure because they had to give their babies over to us. And then, I thought, "they" could so easily be "I". I mean, I had a spouse, a mom, a dad, and two supportive in-laws. I would venture to say that not one of these parents had anywhere close to what I had, namely Jesus, and it broke my heart. I'm so weak, so guilty, so broken.. no more holy or righteous than them, but for some reason they were standing there and I was standing here and I wondered why in the world God had chosen someone as naïve, weak, and failing as me to speak into the lives of these families.
3.) I can remember sitting in on several occasions listening to Ryan tell a boy that his actions could get him in jail, or worse, killed and hoping that that would never happen. Although they probably would've had it coming, I never wanted that for them, not even the ones I butted heads with daily.
4.) When we moved here, and as the mild PTSD of our formerly crazy life wore off, I began to see the world, my Savior, and those around me with new lenses. All the way from the babies I cuddled in the nursery at church to the college age kids were someone's baby. My heart both broke and praised Jesus when kids started opening up to Ryan about things they'd never told anyone before...that's why we had been led to the boys' home...so that we could see even the toughest, hardest, snottiest teenage kid as a beloved child, the way God sees us. There just not as intimidating anymore.. I can look at the beautiful, "somewhat" innocent eyes of my four-year-old boy and see the same sparkle in the eyes of a too-cool-for-school 17 year old. There's virtually no difference except their brains may be a few years closer to full growth. They want to be loved and told their worth something. They want to be disciplined. They want to know that they matter.
Now... Trayvon.
I don't know how he was raised. I know Dad was tough on him, but no more than that. I would venture to say that his mom and dad loved him, despite the fact that they didn't live in the same home, despite the fact that he had weed and suspensions in his background, I believe they were doing all they knew how... which is all any of us can, really.
I would venture to guess that he probably made some really bad choices that night. Inexcusable for a man, expected from a 17-year-old who wants to believe he's a man.
Did he deserve to get shot? Nah, probably not.
From the sound of the 911 calls before the confrontation, Zimmerman seemed a little too amped up already to me. I mean, we live smack in the middle of town where "interesting characters" (of no one specific race, gender, or stereotype)go right past our house on a daily basis. Although I'd guess some are junkies, I don't think one of them would harm us. Besides, with God on our side, I think we'll save 911 and gunfire for immediate danger only. :)
For me, my heartbreak has nothing to do with identifying Martin as a race, and everything to do with seeing my baby boy in his eyes, hardened or soft, as they are flashed on the T.V. screen.
What a depraved, sinful race we are, fighting with and killing one another for fear and pride, wasting hours of our precious time on this earth complaining that a man we didn't even know who shot a boy we didn't even know walked free, rejoicing that a man was declared "Not guilty" while the reality is t hat there is someone's little boy 6 feet underground, and another man and his family will live in guilt and fear.. forever.
Why are we living in these extremes, these disgusted and elated emotions? Why aren't there more of us who follow Christ mourning over the depravity this case brought to light and trying to glean from it what our Father is trying to teach us?
I do not have an answer for that, but what I can say is that we can all learn something.. as long as there's breath in our lungs...
Friday, April 12, 2013
Encouragement for Anxious, Task-Driven Moms
Peace.
Calm.
Quietness of Spirit.
Relationship.
God's Presence.
As a mom of itty bittys, I find myself wondering at times if these words and phrases will ever become a reality in my life again. Some of this I can just attribute to spending most of my days at home with a 1 year old and a 4 year old. Most of it, however, has to do with my sin nature and struggles.
I am a worrier and easily given over to anxiety.
I am also very task-driven.
God is using my husband and my children, specifically this "stay-at-home"chapter of my life to teach me how to be more like Him. I want to be more peaceful, more calm, more quiet, more relational, and most importantly, to feel God's presence and nearness even in the most hectic of times.
Slowly and steadily He's teaching me how.
I know I'm not alone. There are lots of you moms out there who love yourfamilies with every beat of your heart but are oftentimes bound by that "Martha", task-oriented, anxious heart.
Today, I would like to share how God's been teaching me to break free. I'm no pro at this yet, but I'd love to at least open up some dialouge about it.
So, here are some, hopefully, helpful and encouraging thoughts:
1.) Make a list (easy for task lovers) and switch gears when needed. Lots of times, when I don't make a list and just start my day, the many tasks I feel I need to accomplish get larger and larger and the weight of them turns very unrealistic very quickly. Then, if I get stuck on something, I feel like I'm drowning deeper and deeper into the sea of "too much to do".
On the other hand, if I stop, look at a premade list, and switch gears to something else for awhile, I feel so much more accomplished and centered when I come back to the original task that I knock it out fairly quickly! Oh, and don't forget to always add "snuggle, play a game, and read with the babies" on that list. There are also times a list brings about the realization that only a couple or none of the "to-dos" HAVE to get done today. Every once in awhile, fight against those desires to "get ahead" and just spend the entire day lovin' your family. :)
2.) Make your quiet time with Jesus your first morning priority. Yes, exercise and a quick shower are also helpful in the morning, but there's something about that time with Jesus first thing that reminds you of who's really in control. Besides, you exercise enough chasing your kids and showers are overrated when you're cuddling poop and booger machines all day. :) (I just read this tip to Cohen and he agrees:))
3.) Don't let the evil one cause the "advice" of other women to bring you guilt and despair.
God bless 'em, they mean well, but the fact of the matter is that any good mother who is in the trenches alongside you is going to either give you a hug or just whisper a gentle, "I know, sweetie, I know."
It is those sweet, well-meaning women who either do not have their own children or who are in that "in-between" stage of having teenage/adult kids and no grandkids ( How many times have I heard, "It goes by so fast.. my baby is twenty-_".). Somehow, they only remember the "good things" about having a toddler and love to tell us that we should be enjoying every moment.
Or what kind of foods we should be forcing our kids to eat.
Or what should be in their sippy cup.
Or how to make them sleep better.
Or that sending them outside in short sleeves in 60 degree weather will give them pneumonia.
Or that hugging them too much will cause them to stay babies forever.
Or that not hugging them enough will make them juvenile delinquents.
I can remember being at one of our nephews' ball games when my oldest was barely a year old. It was HOT and my son is a sweatER. I had no other choice but to strip him down to his diaper, pour water over his head, and let him play in the mud puddles. (Totally against my rule followin' nature.) I looked at my mother-in-law and said, "Before I had a child of my own, I would've thought someone who did this to their kid in a public place had mental issues". She just smiled as if she was clearly rejoicing in the fact that God had changed my heart. :)
I can also attest to the fact that selective memory is a real thing. After all, if I remembered the misery of my pregnancy sickness with Cohen, we would've never had El. :)
Those seasoned mothers who tell you to enjoy every moment are filled with their own remorse that they didn't, but you won't either. Why? Because we're human. We're made of sinful flesh and blood. Do you enjoy all of your time with any human being? Your husband? Your parents? Your best friend? No. We're never satisfied. We're not perfect.
Enjoy your kids as much as you can and let Jesus give you grace for the rest.
Having said that,
4.) Be thankful as much as you can. When it's just a conversation between you and God, thank him for the crayon-stains on the wood floor, the pee puddles in the bathroom, and the dirty dishes piled high. Thank him for moldable hearts and minds that will absolutely adore you for such a short time. Thank Him for the good moments and the bad. Thank Him for the very things society tells us we should whine about. This one has been huge in changing my perspective. Gratitude is not easy, especially when your nature is to complain, but it absolutely changes your heart.
5.) Communicate. Communicate. Communicate. Talk to someone when you feel the weight bearing down. Jesus is the place to start, but if you can't shake it, if the day's just too rough, maybe He wants to bless someone with the joy of helping you.. Let them. Call your husband, your mom, your dad, your neighbor, your best friend. Your kids' lives will not fall apart if you're asleep or in a bath for a period of time. When I learned to truly believe my husband when he said, "Crystal, I want to make dinner," "I want you to lay down", "I want to take the kids out for ice cream", it changed my life forever. When I truly realized that I wasn't the only one that should be desiring time with my kids and that they could bless others with their presence, their questions, their giggles, and their snuggles, it brought great freedom.
6.) Accept professional counseling and medication when needed. Sometimes, especially for an anxious person, in traumatic or life changing situations, counseling and meds are a great help. At times, they're needed for simple day-to-day survival. God gave doctors wisdom for a reason. Although I know longer counsel or take meds, I've been there and it's still always open for discussion in our home. Prayerfully consider it, especially if you feel like you've tried everything else and there is still a feeling of hopelessness.
Lastly, and most importantly...
7.) Give your kids- and yourself-the Gospel daily. Yes, you need to discipline your kids. Maybe, though, on the days you find yourself handing out timeouts and spankings like they're candy, you need a little timeout as well. :) Be open with your kids. Let them know that you sin right alongside them. YOU make mistakes, YOU fail, YOU say hurtful things all the time. Apologize and talk to them age-appropriately about your own sin and watch the cycle of guilt and anxiety disapper. Make it known, of course, that you are in charge,and are responsible to hand out consequences for their sin. But don't ever let them, or yourself, believe the lie that you do, or should, have it all together. Confessing that you "make bad choices" (as the Fulmers call it :)) only shines more light on the saving grace of Jesus. It takes the weight of "saving" your children off your shoulders, and places it on His... where it should've been all along.
I hope these thoughts have helped you as much as they have me. God has used many different resources and people in my life to help me with my struggle and I felt compelled to share His grace in my life.
One day, I'll be a completely calm, peaceful, relational mommy... or maybe.... grandmommy. ;) Until then, I'll keep leaning on Jesus and trust that He is sovereign and His timing is perfect. May you do the same.
Calm.
Quietness of Spirit.
Relationship.
God's Presence.
As a mom of itty bittys, I find myself wondering at times if these words and phrases will ever become a reality in my life again. Some of this I can just attribute to spending most of my days at home with a 1 year old and a 4 year old. Most of it, however, has to do with my sin nature and struggles.
I am a worrier and easily given over to anxiety.
I am also very task-driven.
God is using my husband and my children, specifically this "stay-at-home"chapter of my life to teach me how to be more like Him. I want to be more peaceful, more calm, more quiet, more relational, and most importantly, to feel God's presence and nearness even in the most hectic of times.
Slowly and steadily He's teaching me how.
I know I'm not alone. There are lots of you moms out there who love yourfamilies with every beat of your heart but are oftentimes bound by that "Martha", task-oriented, anxious heart.
Today, I would like to share how God's been teaching me to break free. I'm no pro at this yet, but I'd love to at least open up some dialouge about it.
So, here are some, hopefully, helpful and encouraging thoughts:
1.) Make a list (easy for task lovers) and switch gears when needed. Lots of times, when I don't make a list and just start my day, the many tasks I feel I need to accomplish get larger and larger and the weight of them turns very unrealistic very quickly. Then, if I get stuck on something, I feel like I'm drowning deeper and deeper into the sea of "too much to do".
On the other hand, if I stop, look at a premade list, and switch gears to something else for awhile, I feel so much more accomplished and centered when I come back to the original task that I knock it out fairly quickly! Oh, and don't forget to always add "snuggle, play a game, and read with the babies" on that list. There are also times a list brings about the realization that only a couple or none of the "to-dos" HAVE to get done today. Every once in awhile, fight against those desires to "get ahead" and just spend the entire day lovin' your family. :)
2.) Make your quiet time with Jesus your first morning priority. Yes, exercise and a quick shower are also helpful in the morning, but there's something about that time with Jesus first thing that reminds you of who's really in control. Besides, you exercise enough chasing your kids and showers are overrated when you're cuddling poop and booger machines all day. :) (I just read this tip to Cohen and he agrees:))
3.) Don't let the evil one cause the "advice" of other women to bring you guilt and despair.
God bless 'em, they mean well, but the fact of the matter is that any good mother who is in the trenches alongside you is going to either give you a hug or just whisper a gentle, "I know, sweetie, I know."
It is those sweet, well-meaning women who either do not have their own children or who are in that "in-between" stage of having teenage/adult kids and no grandkids ( How many times have I heard, "It goes by so fast.. my baby is twenty-_".). Somehow, they only remember the "good things" about having a toddler and love to tell us that we should be enjoying every moment.
Or what kind of foods we should be forcing our kids to eat.
Or what should be in their sippy cup.
Or how to make them sleep better.
Or that sending them outside in short sleeves in 60 degree weather will give them pneumonia.
Or that hugging them too much will cause them to stay babies forever.
Or that not hugging them enough will make them juvenile delinquents.
I can remember being at one of our nephews' ball games when my oldest was barely a year old. It was HOT and my son is a sweatER. I had no other choice but to strip him down to his diaper, pour water over his head, and let him play in the mud puddles. (Totally against my rule followin' nature.) I looked at my mother-in-law and said, "Before I had a child of my own, I would've thought someone who did this to their kid in a public place had mental issues". She just smiled as if she was clearly rejoicing in the fact that God had changed my heart. :)
I can also attest to the fact that selective memory is a real thing. After all, if I remembered the misery of my pregnancy sickness with Cohen, we would've never had El. :)
Those seasoned mothers who tell you to enjoy every moment are filled with their own remorse that they didn't, but you won't either. Why? Because we're human. We're made of sinful flesh and blood. Do you enjoy all of your time with any human being? Your husband? Your parents? Your best friend? No. We're never satisfied. We're not perfect.
Enjoy your kids as much as you can and let Jesus give you grace for the rest.
Having said that,
4.) Be thankful as much as you can. When it's just a conversation between you and God, thank him for the crayon-stains on the wood floor, the pee puddles in the bathroom, and the dirty dishes piled high. Thank him for moldable hearts and minds that will absolutely adore you for such a short time. Thank Him for the good moments and the bad. Thank Him for the very things society tells us we should whine about. This one has been huge in changing my perspective. Gratitude is not easy, especially when your nature is to complain, but it absolutely changes your heart.
5.) Communicate. Communicate. Communicate. Talk to someone when you feel the weight bearing down. Jesus is the place to start, but if you can't shake it, if the day's just too rough, maybe He wants to bless someone with the joy of helping you.. Let them. Call your husband, your mom, your dad, your neighbor, your best friend. Your kids' lives will not fall apart if you're asleep or in a bath for a period of time. When I learned to truly believe my husband when he said, "Crystal, I want to make dinner," "I want you to lay down", "I want to take the kids out for ice cream", it changed my life forever. When I truly realized that I wasn't the only one that should be desiring time with my kids and that they could bless others with their presence, their questions, their giggles, and their snuggles, it brought great freedom.
6.) Accept professional counseling and medication when needed. Sometimes, especially for an anxious person, in traumatic or life changing situations, counseling and meds are a great help. At times, they're needed for simple day-to-day survival. God gave doctors wisdom for a reason. Although I know longer counsel or take meds, I've been there and it's still always open for discussion in our home. Prayerfully consider it, especially if you feel like you've tried everything else and there is still a feeling of hopelessness.
Lastly, and most importantly...
7.) Give your kids- and yourself-the Gospel daily. Yes, you need to discipline your kids. Maybe, though, on the days you find yourself handing out timeouts and spankings like they're candy, you need a little timeout as well. :) Be open with your kids. Let them know that you sin right alongside them. YOU make mistakes, YOU fail, YOU say hurtful things all the time. Apologize and talk to them age-appropriately about your own sin and watch the cycle of guilt and anxiety disapper. Make it known, of course, that you are in charge,and are responsible to hand out consequences for their sin. But don't ever let them, or yourself, believe the lie that you do, or should, have it all together. Confessing that you "make bad choices" (as the Fulmers call it :)) only shines more light on the saving grace of Jesus. It takes the weight of "saving" your children off your shoulders, and places it on His... where it should've been all along.
I hope these thoughts have helped you as much as they have me. God has used many different resources and people in my life to help me with my struggle and I felt compelled to share His grace in my life.
One day, I'll be a completely calm, peaceful, relational mommy... or maybe.... grandmommy. ;) Until then, I'll keep leaning on Jesus and trust that He is sovereign and His timing is perfect. May you do the same.
Friday, January 18, 2013
The Fear of Extremism
What a crazy few weeks in our country!
Gun Control...
Louie Giglio's rejection/self-removal from the inaugural benediction...
Pat Robertson... well... being himself....
Again, my facebook addiction has given me such an interesting perspective on the lens' through which others see..
I've said on here before that I believe that fear is the driving force that causes those who are called to trust in Christ to become panicky, frayed, and down-right mean... especially when it comes to the societal, religious, and financial conflicts in our nation. And fear is not from God unless it is of Him.
However, I am struggling with a fear right now. The fear is that we are becoming a society of extremists. THIS is horrifying to me because it will leave those of us who still cling to logic and trust as the minority.
Let me use the "Louie Giglio" situation as an example. If you don't know what I'm talking about, I'll explain in a bit. :)
Roughly four decades to a half century ago, our nation was rapidly changing. Things that were once "hidden in a closet" were being talked about and explored openly. I believe that this has actually led to a lot of good and it was the will of God, but some Church leaders responded to this societal change negatively. (This made sense given the fact that much of this exploration and exposure included acceptance of behaviors and lifestyles that were once widely known as sinful.) I believe these leaders' intentions were good, but their methodology was completely flawed. These leaders lashed out at the homosexual community especially and truly succeeded in separating Christians from "sinners", as if there was really any difference.
Because of these extreme actions, those in the liberal, secular, and/or homosexual community who were also extremists and highly opinionated lashed out, and this ping-pong match, in my opinion, has been back and forth ever since.
Fast forward to 2013. Pastor Louie Giglio, a man who has worked closely with the President on social justice issues and has never given this gal any reason to believe that he lives for anything other than Christ (yes, I'm a fan) is asked to give the prayer at his inauguration. However, a 15 year-old sermon is found of his that had to do with the "sin of homosexuality" and he immediately becomes a target. He chose to peacefully decline the request to pray at this event; the White House happily accepted his self-removal and immediately apologized to the public for their poor choice in pastor.
Huh????
Okay... so... if I believe that spanking my child is beneficial and my neighbor believes that spanking is flat out wrong, can we not be friends??
Well, that depends. Are we going to be that immature or are we going to say, "Look, we definitely disagree on this issue, but our kids love each other and we also have a lot in common, so let's build a relationship on those things and take the spanking card off the conversation table." ?
I don't understand. When did Pastor Giglio's stance on homosexuality have anything to do with the proactive things he's done, such as his efforts toward ending human sex-trafficking? Did anybody really think his prayer was going to include anything pertaining to a message he preached 15 years ago?
See, here's the problem with extremism and the way our country is going... on both ends. We, especially our youth, are being led to believe that one fraction of a person or issue defines their/its whole.
I, for example, am a very anxious person. Not everyone understands anxiety. If someone gets to know me, it may very well annoy them how often I let my anxieties dominate my life. My own husband gets very frustrated with this component of who I am. Yet, he loves me? Why? Well, aside from the fact that I am trying (as pitifully as it may seem at times) to follow Jesus and that He alone gives my husband the love to love me (of which he beautifully recieves), I am a good mother to his children, I am compassionate, and he enjoys conversing with and bouncing ideas off of me. We have a wonderful friendship and unity. He does not see me as "my anxious wife, Crystal". He sees me as well.. me. Wife, mother, teacher, housekeeper, cook, youth leader, partner, etc....
Now, I am a Christian, so my husband and others hold me to the idea that I must always be working to trust Christ and shed my anxiety, because it is, in fact, sinful to worry. But even so, they take care to approach this with love and compassion because they know it's not a choice, but a struggle that at times breaks me.
However, if I were not a Christian, it would be hard convincing me that I was "sinning" because I would simply be going with my feelings, i.e, I FEEL like being anxious, therefore I should be.
We can parallel this with just about any sinful behavior (sexual immorality, drunkenness, slander, etc.)
By the same token, secular society needs to accept the fact that although the majority of evangelical Christians disagree with them on issues such as homosexuality, abortion, welfare, etc., this does not mean we have nothing to offer or to stand on together.
I am not worried about the "left" or "right" taking over. I'm struggling not to worry about anything, but I do...
I worry that my children, as Christ-followers, are going to feel the need to "pick a side"when the world is simply not black and white.
"The older I get, the grayer things become."..... I've heard my husband and a half dozen church leaders speak this truth.
I agree with the Church at large when it comes to homosexuality and many other social issues. I do not believe any sex outside of a marriage between a man and woman fits into God's design, but I don't plan to stand on a platform, political or otherwise, to stop it.
I am only just beginning to understand the complexity of human and cultural sexuality and what role genetics, environment, etc. play into the equation. I cannot begin to understand the pain, heartache, and despair that one struggling through sexual confusion feels.
I also cannot comprehend what a non-Christian who is sifting through their struggles without Jesus hears when one of us DOES choose to stand on a anti-sin-based platform, having no (and not being given any) background of the love of Christ.
Like Giglio, I desire to live a Christ-like existence. I will certainly give my opinion from a Biblical perspective when asked, but life is too short for an agenda. When pushed, I want to be able to say my piece, and then humble myself, step down off my podium, and get back to loving, serving, and praying for others.
As I've heard many wise say, "The Church should be known by what it's for, not what it's against."
The Holy Spirit led me today to Luke 14:7-33. I think Jesus gives us a little picture here of what we should be for. I especially love verse 11: "For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted."
As you go throughout your journey and your seasons, I hope you will join the ever-increasing minority. May we never be afraid to speak our Biblical opinion (because we are called to be bold), but may our ultimate goal be to see each individual and human being with their flaws AND strengths, through the eyes of Jesus. If we don't, the gospel will never be communicated and all our words will be meaningless.
Gun Control...
Louie Giglio's rejection/self-removal from the inaugural benediction...
Pat Robertson... well... being himself....
Again, my facebook addiction has given me such an interesting perspective on the lens' through which others see..
I've said on here before that I believe that fear is the driving force that causes those who are called to trust in Christ to become panicky, frayed, and down-right mean... especially when it comes to the societal, religious, and financial conflicts in our nation. And fear is not from God unless it is of Him.
However, I am struggling with a fear right now. The fear is that we are becoming a society of extremists. THIS is horrifying to me because it will leave those of us who still cling to logic and trust as the minority.
Let me use the "Louie Giglio" situation as an example. If you don't know what I'm talking about, I'll explain in a bit. :)
Roughly four decades to a half century ago, our nation was rapidly changing. Things that were once "hidden in a closet" were being talked about and explored openly. I believe that this has actually led to a lot of good and it was the will of God, but some Church leaders responded to this societal change negatively. (This made sense given the fact that much of this exploration and exposure included acceptance of behaviors and lifestyles that were once widely known as sinful.) I believe these leaders' intentions were good, but their methodology was completely flawed. These leaders lashed out at the homosexual community especially and truly succeeded in separating Christians from "sinners", as if there was really any difference.
Because of these extreme actions, those in the liberal, secular, and/or homosexual community who were also extremists and highly opinionated lashed out, and this ping-pong match, in my opinion, has been back and forth ever since.
Fast forward to 2013. Pastor Louie Giglio, a man who has worked closely with the President on social justice issues and has never given this gal any reason to believe that he lives for anything other than Christ (yes, I'm a fan) is asked to give the prayer at his inauguration. However, a 15 year-old sermon is found of his that had to do with the "sin of homosexuality" and he immediately becomes a target. He chose to peacefully decline the request to pray at this event; the White House happily accepted his self-removal and immediately apologized to the public for their poor choice in pastor.
Huh????
Okay... so... if I believe that spanking my child is beneficial and my neighbor believes that spanking is flat out wrong, can we not be friends??
Well, that depends. Are we going to be that immature or are we going to say, "Look, we definitely disagree on this issue, but our kids love each other and we also have a lot in common, so let's build a relationship on those things and take the spanking card off the conversation table." ?
I don't understand. When did Pastor Giglio's stance on homosexuality have anything to do with the proactive things he's done, such as his efforts toward ending human sex-trafficking? Did anybody really think his prayer was going to include anything pertaining to a message he preached 15 years ago?
See, here's the problem with extremism and the way our country is going... on both ends. We, especially our youth, are being led to believe that one fraction of a person or issue defines their/its whole.
I, for example, am a very anxious person. Not everyone understands anxiety. If someone gets to know me, it may very well annoy them how often I let my anxieties dominate my life. My own husband gets very frustrated with this component of who I am. Yet, he loves me? Why? Well, aside from the fact that I am trying (as pitifully as it may seem at times) to follow Jesus and that He alone gives my husband the love to love me (of which he beautifully recieves), I am a good mother to his children, I am compassionate, and he enjoys conversing with and bouncing ideas off of me. We have a wonderful friendship and unity. He does not see me as "my anxious wife, Crystal". He sees me as well.. me. Wife, mother, teacher, housekeeper, cook, youth leader, partner, etc....
Now, I am a Christian, so my husband and others hold me to the idea that I must always be working to trust Christ and shed my anxiety, because it is, in fact, sinful to worry. But even so, they take care to approach this with love and compassion because they know it's not a choice, but a struggle that at times breaks me.
However, if I were not a Christian, it would be hard convincing me that I was "sinning" because I would simply be going with my feelings, i.e, I FEEL like being anxious, therefore I should be.
We can parallel this with just about any sinful behavior (sexual immorality, drunkenness, slander, etc.)
By the same token, secular society needs to accept the fact that although the majority of evangelical Christians disagree with them on issues such as homosexuality, abortion, welfare, etc., this does not mean we have nothing to offer or to stand on together.
I am not worried about the "left" or "right" taking over. I'm struggling not to worry about anything, but I do...
I worry that my children, as Christ-followers, are going to feel the need to "pick a side"when the world is simply not black and white.
"The older I get, the grayer things become."..... I've heard my husband and a half dozen church leaders speak this truth.
I agree with the Church at large when it comes to homosexuality and many other social issues. I do not believe any sex outside of a marriage between a man and woman fits into God's design, but I don't plan to stand on a platform, political or otherwise, to stop it.
I am only just beginning to understand the complexity of human and cultural sexuality and what role genetics, environment, etc. play into the equation. I cannot begin to understand the pain, heartache, and despair that one struggling through sexual confusion feels.
I also cannot comprehend what a non-Christian who is sifting through their struggles without Jesus hears when one of us DOES choose to stand on a anti-sin-based platform, having no (and not being given any) background of the love of Christ.
Like Giglio, I desire to live a Christ-like existence. I will certainly give my opinion from a Biblical perspective when asked, but life is too short for an agenda. When pushed, I want to be able to say my piece, and then humble myself, step down off my podium, and get back to loving, serving, and praying for others.
As I've heard many wise say, "The Church should be known by what it's for, not what it's against."
The Holy Spirit led me today to Luke 14:7-33. I think Jesus gives us a little picture here of what we should be for. I especially love verse 11: "For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted."
As you go throughout your journey and your seasons, I hope you will join the ever-increasing minority. May we never be afraid to speak our Biblical opinion (because we are called to be bold), but may our ultimate goal be to see each individual and human being with their flaws AND strengths, through the eyes of Jesus. If we don't, the gospel will never be communicated and all our words will be meaningless.
Monday, December 17, 2012
My response to Mike Huckabee, facebook, and the CT shooting
I am mother.
I am a teacher.
I am a Christian.
My heart has broken over the Connecticut shooting.
I had the privilege of substitute teaching in a local elementary school yesterday and watching the response of teachers and administrators... Christian and non-Christian alike, reassure these children that they love them and would absolutely do anything, including risking their own life, to keep them safe.
Because I was a floater for meetings yesterday, I had a lot of free time and was able to spend some time in the teacher's lounge. I was able to hear special ed teachers discuss some of the heartbreaking cases of violent, handicapped, mentally ill children who could also be terribly sweet and the nightmare that their parents, GOOD parents had to go through.
It even brought back to mind a bright, adorable little kindergarten girl I had in class a few years ago that would fly into violent rages against me and her classmates and the sweet Christian principal who was doing all she could to help this child.
I also had the privilege yesterday of being invited into a conversation by a little 2nd grade girl about what I thought about Jesus that had absolutely nothing to do with Connecticut and was not spurred on at all by me. But, I had the chance, for 30 seconds, to let her know, that yes, I did, in fact, personally, love Jesus very much.
I've heard Mike Huckabee's thoughts and others that have similar, and for the most part, I do agree.
I think there is a ridiculous irony between banning prayer in school but it being our "go to" first in times of tragedy. I think as a society, and even as individuals, Christian or not, we all have a huge problem with "using God" when he's convenient. Kind of points to the depravity of all our souls.. not just one group or sect.
The part that I must disagree with, however, (and I've heard it everywhere on facebook) is that we have some kind of power to "escort God" out of any place.
It is only by God's choosing that He steps back and allows us to take prayer out of school.
It is only by God's choosing that He allows babies to be aborted.
It is only by God's choosing that He allowed the tragedy in Connecticut.
It is only by God's GRACE and choosing that an elementary school in Indiana and a high school in Oklahoma were not attacked as well.. I've read news reports that people were arrested for plotting attacks in these places on the same Friday...
Oh, boy is He in our schools, and oh boy, does He hold back a lot of evil.
Sin is everywhere. It is rampant, and man does have free will. I don't know why God chooses to stop it sometimes and other times, he doesn't. BUT, I can tell you this. NOTHING happens unless God allows it and unless a higher purpose, a deeper meaning, a light pointing back to Him, results.
I just have to ask this question. Could it be possible that prayer in school and a moralistic society back 50 to 100 years ago is what made so many carnal Christians? After all, moralism was all around us. Everyone went to church. Prayer was in school. If there was sin, it was often covered up, and not spoken about.
Could we entertain the thought, for just a moment, that it is part of God's divine plan that we Christians feel a little "uncomfortable", "pressured", "backed into a corner"? After all, in other countries, when Christ is "banned", a passion and a fervor fills the church, and people remember the truth of who Jesus is all over again.
I think, that in these times to come, the true Christian will stand out.
The true Christian will be the one offering help to the mother of the mentally ill boy in her daughter's class of whom all the other parents and children are afraid.
The true Christian will be offering the pregnant teen a place to stay as she wrestles with her future.
The true Christian will bring her husband/his wife alongside him/her and befriend the couple who is so desperately struggling in their marriage or maybe (gasp, dare I say it) the homosexual couple on their street.
The true Christian teacher will be ready with a response when a curious elementary student asks about who this Jesus guy really is.
This is just speculation.. but I just wonder 75 years ago.. how many of those real, raw vulnerable questions were being asked in classrooms? How many children just assumed Jesus because we were comfortable in our faith.
My heart, again, breaks for those parents and families in Connecticut. I, in my human mind, cannot rationalize a reason big enough for God's allowance of this. I can sympathize with parents' anger and bitterness and all the grief.
However, He knows why this happened, and His glory will shine. Mike Huckabee was dead on when he talked about Obama's speech and the hugs and love of the community. That's Jesus. He's showing up. As Christians (I ,being just as guilty as anyone), we need to as well.
I am a teacher.
I am a Christian.
My heart has broken over the Connecticut shooting.
I had the privilege of substitute teaching in a local elementary school yesterday and watching the response of teachers and administrators... Christian and non-Christian alike, reassure these children that they love them and would absolutely do anything, including risking their own life, to keep them safe.
Because I was a floater for meetings yesterday, I had a lot of free time and was able to spend some time in the teacher's lounge. I was able to hear special ed teachers discuss some of the heartbreaking cases of violent, handicapped, mentally ill children who could also be terribly sweet and the nightmare that their parents, GOOD parents had to go through.
It even brought back to mind a bright, adorable little kindergarten girl I had in class a few years ago that would fly into violent rages against me and her classmates and the sweet Christian principal who was doing all she could to help this child.
I also had the privilege yesterday of being invited into a conversation by a little 2nd grade girl about what I thought about Jesus that had absolutely nothing to do with Connecticut and was not spurred on at all by me. But, I had the chance, for 30 seconds, to let her know, that yes, I did, in fact, personally, love Jesus very much.
I've heard Mike Huckabee's thoughts and others that have similar, and for the most part, I do agree.
I think there is a ridiculous irony between banning prayer in school but it being our "go to" first in times of tragedy. I think as a society, and even as individuals, Christian or not, we all have a huge problem with "using God" when he's convenient. Kind of points to the depravity of all our souls.. not just one group or sect.
The part that I must disagree with, however, (and I've heard it everywhere on facebook) is that we have some kind of power to "escort God" out of any place.
It is only by God's choosing that He steps back and allows us to take prayer out of school.
It is only by God's choosing that He allows babies to be aborted.
It is only by God's choosing that He allowed the tragedy in Connecticut.
It is only by God's GRACE and choosing that an elementary school in Indiana and a high school in Oklahoma were not attacked as well.. I've read news reports that people were arrested for plotting attacks in these places on the same Friday...
Oh, boy is He in our schools, and oh boy, does He hold back a lot of evil.
Sin is everywhere. It is rampant, and man does have free will. I don't know why God chooses to stop it sometimes and other times, he doesn't. BUT, I can tell you this. NOTHING happens unless God allows it and unless a higher purpose, a deeper meaning, a light pointing back to Him, results.
I just have to ask this question. Could it be possible that prayer in school and a moralistic society back 50 to 100 years ago is what made so many carnal Christians? After all, moralism was all around us. Everyone went to church. Prayer was in school. If there was sin, it was often covered up, and not spoken about.
Could we entertain the thought, for just a moment, that it is part of God's divine plan that we Christians feel a little "uncomfortable", "pressured", "backed into a corner"? After all, in other countries, when Christ is "banned", a passion and a fervor fills the church, and people remember the truth of who Jesus is all over again.
I think, that in these times to come, the true Christian will stand out.
The true Christian will be the one offering help to the mother of the mentally ill boy in her daughter's class of whom all the other parents and children are afraid.
The true Christian will be offering the pregnant teen a place to stay as she wrestles with her future.
The true Christian will bring her husband/his wife alongside him/her and befriend the couple who is so desperately struggling in their marriage or maybe (gasp, dare I say it) the homosexual couple on their street.
The true Christian teacher will be ready with a response when a curious elementary student asks about who this Jesus guy really is.
This is just speculation.. but I just wonder 75 years ago.. how many of those real, raw vulnerable questions were being asked in classrooms? How many children just assumed Jesus because we were comfortable in our faith.
My heart, again, breaks for those parents and families in Connecticut. I, in my human mind, cannot rationalize a reason big enough for God's allowance of this. I can sympathize with parents' anger and bitterness and all the grief.
However, He knows why this happened, and His glory will shine. Mike Huckabee was dead on when he talked about Obama's speech and the hugs and love of the community. That's Jesus. He's showing up. As Christians (I ,being just as guilty as anyone), we need to as well.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
American Idol Worship - Not What You Think. :)
This past Wednesday night, after putting the kids to bed, my husband and I begrudgingly settled into the Presidential Debate, neither of us being huge fans of the political world at large. We don't have cable right now, so it was basically our only choice of T.V. viewing.
With my mind half in twitter/facebook land and half in the debate, I began to become intrigued by what I saw on the screen and disgusted by what I saw on my computer.
On my television, I saw 2 well-educated, cordial men in a spirited debate about policy.. something I'm pretty sure our country hasn't seen in awhile. They were courteous, yet firm with one another and I quite enjoyed it, even though I admittedly didn't understand half of what they were talking about. There's nothing quite like two men disagreeing like gentlemen. It's quite an art and I'm fond of it. Now, there was obviously a clear winner (cough*, Romney*), but both men conducted themselves well.
My computer screen was a different story; Friends, people I knew well, all ages, CHRISTIANS being anything but kind, courteous, and Christlike... and as usual, I became very irritated and have spent the last close to 24 hours trying to figure out why. (My poor husband.)
I finally found the answer, but it first needs a disclaimer. Some of you know that I get very passionate about what I write. And 99% of the time, what I write about is either a) What God is teaching or has taught me about any number of things or b) The Church's role in society. The bottom line is, however, that ultimately, I get passionate, because God is discipling me and teaching me. He's not going to give me a Word for others without giving me a "spiritual spanking" first.
Now, here it is:
Am I worshipping something or someone more than I worship God? Do I have an idol? If so, how is it not only effecting my relationship with my Jesus, but with others around me?
I have a confession. My idol is not politics. I'm more along the lines of husband, children, chocolate, and people pleasing.
However, the same theory applies and I'd like to speak to 2 things that I think we should remember during this election season as we go all crazy over our two "American Idol" presidential candidates.
1.) These two men are REAL,LIVE, FLESH-AND-BLOOD people. They need Jesus like the rest of us. He created them. I'm not sure that either has Him. As Christ-followers, our ultimate desire should be that these men repent and come to a greater knowledge of him, not for "the sake of our country", but for the sake of their souls and God's glory. How are we to marry praying for their souls with slinging mud at them?
Now, you may argue that when these men chose to run for president, this is what they signed up for. Of course. Disagreement with policy. Dissatisfaction with with the way things are being run.
Not personal attacks from people who claim Jesus Christ.
Sometimes we forget that Obama is a father and Romney a grandfather of impressionable children. I can't imagine being Michelle Obama and trying to shelter my children from the mean words hissed about their father by none other than those who call themselves Christians. The same goes in the opposite direction. As much as my babies love their Daddy, Papa, and Grandad, I think it would be mortifying for them to hear such harsh things. These men may have chosen their career paths, but the children didn't have a choice in it, and we need to keep that in mind... spoken like a true mom, right? ;)
2.) These men are JUST people. Amen? I love 1st and 2nd Kings because it reminds us that when the people ask for a king, some of them do what is right in there own eyes, some do what's right in God's eyes, but NONE of them can consistently, completely, wholeheartedly take care of the people the way a Sovereign King Jesus can. Yeah, I get chill bumps just thinking about it.
Ryan and I were discussing this morning how we desire a change in presidents because we are concerned about the huge deficit and how it will effect our children. But the bottom line is this. No matter what happens, the U.S. president is not the Author of Salvation, Lifegiver, or Wonderful Counselor. He is a president who will reign for 4-8 years and eventually return to the dust like the rest of us. Why turn my face to him? Why lean on him? Why tremble in fear and anger at the thought of him getting re-elected? I know the KING OF THE UNIVERSE! Obama and Romney have no desire to have a personal relationship with me; they just want my vote. On the flip side, the King of Kings desires an intimate walk with lil' ol' me. He wants me to sit at his feet and know all my thoughts, and he's not feeding me a line! My friend and Savior Jesus knows the end of the story, and know matter what comes to pass in the lives of me, my children, my grandchildren, and on down the line, He'll be there. That's all I need to know.
So, back to the point before I start (or maybe finish) preaching :). We really should enjoy our chocolate, our spouses, our children, our presidential debates, and our ball games. But, Church, let's keep things in perspective. Worshipping/Obsessing over these things not only leads to trying to fill a Jesus void with something earthly, but it also leads us to bitterness toward those enjoyable things he has placed in our lives because they will never live up to our heavenly cravings. It will cause us to say mean things, and let's face it, look pretty darn ugly to an already skeptical world.
With my mind half in twitter/facebook land and half in the debate, I began to become intrigued by what I saw on the screen and disgusted by what I saw on my computer.
On my television, I saw 2 well-educated, cordial men in a spirited debate about policy.. something I'm pretty sure our country hasn't seen in awhile. They were courteous, yet firm with one another and I quite enjoyed it, even though I admittedly didn't understand half of what they were talking about. There's nothing quite like two men disagreeing like gentlemen. It's quite an art and I'm fond of it. Now, there was obviously a clear winner (cough*, Romney*), but both men conducted themselves well.
My computer screen was a different story; Friends, people I knew well, all ages, CHRISTIANS being anything but kind, courteous, and Christlike... and as usual, I became very irritated and have spent the last close to 24 hours trying to figure out why. (My poor husband.)
I finally found the answer, but it first needs a disclaimer. Some of you know that I get very passionate about what I write. And 99% of the time, what I write about is either a) What God is teaching or has taught me about any number of things or b) The Church's role in society. The bottom line is, however, that ultimately, I get passionate, because God is discipling me and teaching me. He's not going to give me a Word for others without giving me a "spiritual spanking" first.
Now, here it is:
Am I worshipping something or someone more than I worship God? Do I have an idol? If so, how is it not only effecting my relationship with my Jesus, but with others around me?
I have a confession. My idol is not politics. I'm more along the lines of husband, children, chocolate, and people pleasing.
However, the same theory applies and I'd like to speak to 2 things that I think we should remember during this election season as we go all crazy over our two "American Idol" presidential candidates.
1.) These two men are REAL,LIVE, FLESH-AND-BLOOD people. They need Jesus like the rest of us. He created them. I'm not sure that either has Him. As Christ-followers, our ultimate desire should be that these men repent and come to a greater knowledge of him, not for "the sake of our country", but for the sake of their souls and God's glory. How are we to marry praying for their souls with slinging mud at them?
Now, you may argue that when these men chose to run for president, this is what they signed up for. Of course. Disagreement with policy. Dissatisfaction with with the way things are being run.
Not personal attacks from people who claim Jesus Christ.
Sometimes we forget that Obama is a father and Romney a grandfather of impressionable children. I can't imagine being Michelle Obama and trying to shelter my children from the mean words hissed about their father by none other than those who call themselves Christians. The same goes in the opposite direction. As much as my babies love their Daddy, Papa, and Grandad, I think it would be mortifying for them to hear such harsh things. These men may have chosen their career paths, but the children didn't have a choice in it, and we need to keep that in mind... spoken like a true mom, right? ;)
2.) These men are JUST people. Amen? I love 1st and 2nd Kings because it reminds us that when the people ask for a king, some of them do what is right in there own eyes, some do what's right in God's eyes, but NONE of them can consistently, completely, wholeheartedly take care of the people the way a Sovereign King Jesus can. Yeah, I get chill bumps just thinking about it.
Ryan and I were discussing this morning how we desire a change in presidents because we are concerned about the huge deficit and how it will effect our children. But the bottom line is this. No matter what happens, the U.S. president is not the Author of Salvation, Lifegiver, or Wonderful Counselor. He is a president who will reign for 4-8 years and eventually return to the dust like the rest of us. Why turn my face to him? Why lean on him? Why tremble in fear and anger at the thought of him getting re-elected? I know the KING OF THE UNIVERSE! Obama and Romney have no desire to have a personal relationship with me; they just want my vote. On the flip side, the King of Kings desires an intimate walk with lil' ol' me. He wants me to sit at his feet and know all my thoughts, and he's not feeding me a line! My friend and Savior Jesus knows the end of the story, and know matter what comes to pass in the lives of me, my children, my grandchildren, and on down the line, He'll be there. That's all I need to know.
So, back to the point before I start (or maybe finish) preaching :). We really should enjoy our chocolate, our spouses, our children, our presidential debates, and our ball games. But, Church, let's keep things in perspective. Worshipping/Obsessing over these things not only leads to trying to fill a Jesus void with something earthly, but it also leads us to bitterness toward those enjoyable things he has placed in our lives because they will never live up to our heavenly cravings. It will cause us to say mean things, and let's face it, look pretty darn ugly to an already skeptical world.
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