Sharing our Struggles

<sup>2 Corinthians 1: 3-7

3</sup> Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, ⁴ who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. ⁵ For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. ⁶ If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. ⁷ And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.


This week, the topic of blogging came up. I had expressed to some friends that I have a blog that I mess with from time to time. I don't necessarily keep up with it or post it because I don't want others thinking I am using a hardship in my life to gain attention. Yes, insecure would probably be a better description. However, one of my friends encouraged me. She asked, "Do you like to read blogs about other people's experiences?" Well, yeah. Of course I do. But I'm me, not "other people," right? Then she read the verse above. And it convicted me. If I can journal my thoughts, and those thoughts help just ONE person through a dark time, then it is worth the risk of being vulnerable and transparent. 


I must say that the last week has been very hard. Hard for many reasons, with the main reason being the longing for my Logan. His birthday (albeit his Heavenly birthday, a birthday nonetheless) is just around the corner and he's about all I can think about. I try so hard to put my brave face on but the emotions over the last week have made that near impossible.

Today, I was fortunate enough to share in the joy of my coworker welcoming a new baby into the world. She's a beautiful baby. But again, the enemy was on the attack. The whole day as we waited for her to arrive he plagued my thoughts. Jealousy and loss enveloped me in it's suffocating toxin. So, I did only that which I could do. I prayed. I prayed fervently that God would have His hand of protection on this mama and her precious baby. I prayed that He would provide safety and happiness for this new family member they would soon enjoy. I prayed. I prayed and I CHOSE to be happy. I CHOSE to rejoice with them. It would have been much easier to wallow and allow envy to tarnish the entrance of this miracle into the world. But, instead, I CHOSE Christ. 

It was a hard choice. A choice accompanied with many tears. The Lord stirred in me that tears are not a sign a weakness. My tears are a sign of appreciation for the life that I was allowed to carry for such a short time. A sign that I truly understand the magnitude of the blessing of life. 

As I left the hospital today, I searched the halls for the footprints of my babies. I was overwhelmed as I looked at the tiny feet that I once carried inside me. I was filled with gratitude for the two beautiful lives that God has CHOSEN me to mother. I am honored to have been given not 1, but 2 blessings to care for on this earth when so many don't even get 1. If God CHOSE me, then I must CHOOSE Him. Even when it's hard. Even, when my flesh doesn't want to.

I'd love to say that my tears have dried up, but they haven't. However, it gets a little easier each time I CHOOSE Christ. I suppose it would have been easier not to walk this road of loss, but then I wouldn't be writing these thoughts ... and YOU wouldn't be reading this blog.

I serve a BIG GOD during times of plenty, I must serve that same God during times of want. I just keep reminding myself, He works ALL things for GOOD! He has done good in me ... He is DOING good in me. Regardless of what the enemy continues to whisper in my ear, my God loves me, He cares for me, and He chooses ME! The question is, will I choose Him even if that means walking a hard, lonely road? Will I allow my baby's death to be for nothing or will I use it advance the Kingdom of Christ? Will I allow the fullness of Christ to radiate from me despite the failings of my flesh? I pray I do ...

March 8th Reflections

4 years ago today, the lives of so many changed. I will forever be haunted by the call I received from my mom. "Andrea, do not come to church. Someone shot Pastor Fred. We are locked in a room. We don't know if there are more shooters. I love you. Good bye." I'm sure that's not word for word what I heard from her lips, but it's what I remember. It's what replays in my head every time i hear the date "March 8th."


 Some days, March 8th feels like an eternity ago. Days like today, however, make it seem like the wounds are still so fresh. Days like today stir my own grief. Days like today are days I am grateful pass quickly.

 As I sit here reflecting on what March 8th was and what it means now, God has impressed a thought on me:

If you won't accept the fullness of Heaven, then you will never completely find peace with your grief.

I don't like it when He impresses these things on me. I don't like it because it forces me to step outside of my wallowing, admit the failings of my flesh, and rely upon Him for my every need. I find that nights like tonight smack me in the face with my own grief. My sadness. My failure to fully accept that Heaven is a perfect place. My failure to understand that Heaven is a place we should long for. My failure to understand that this world is fleeting. My failure to be happy for those living a life of eternal fullness but instead focus on my depth of emptiness without their presence.

 I think this March 8th is so different for me. Prior to Fred's death, I hadn't really "lost" anyone. I never had to think about Heaven much because it didn't really affect me. This year, we are nearly one year away from the loss of our sweet boy Logan. This year, March 8th smacks me in the face with the reality of Heaven.

This year, I have to make a willful choice to believe the truths about Heaven I have always read and studied. I hate grief. I hate loss. I hate that anyone should have to suffer the pain of missing someone so precious to them. I suppose this is just an ounce of what our Savior feels. He chose to die knowing so many would turn from Him. So many people He cherished would choose to walk away from Him. How thankful I am for an Almighty Savior that passionately pursues me despite all my weakness and failings. Yet how ungrateful I must seem when his greatest gift of Heaven is one that I mourn tonight as I miss some really special people. Revelation 21:4 "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Thankful for Perspective

I haven't written on this blog for awhile. I've gone to log in many times but always stopped myself for I knew that the words I would spill out would only further exaggerate my pity party instead of offering hope or the joy of Christ. However, as I enter what should have been the last week of my third pregnancy, I have felt prompted to put my thoughts down. One of the most difficult things I have found about losing a baby is the cover up. It is such an uncomfortable topic for many and so it is often ignored. I truly don't think this is done because people don't care. Actually, I feel the opposite is true. People don't ask BECAUSE they care. They don't ask because they don't want to upset. The reverse is also true. Those living through the experience don't bring up the topic so as not to make others uncomfortable. But guess what ... Life's uncomfortable. Without the hardships in life, we could never fully appreciate the goodness of Christ. Without trials and doubt and heartache, we would never have to rely on HIM to supply our every need. I've been thinking a lot about Romans 8:28 lately. But before I tell you why, let me back up. You see, I always wanted 3 kids. I had always said "3 by 30." After the birth of our daughter, it became pretty clear to us that 2 was going to be what we could handle financially. To our shock, we became pregnant with our third. We were stunned. We didn't have a vehicle for 5 people. How would we afford ANOTHER 5 years of daycare? How would we cover my maternity leave? How? Why? What? You name it, we asked it and we were terrified. But over the first few weeks after finding out, we got used to the idea, even excited. I had had a complication with Molly so when I started experiencing the same symptoms with baby #3, I didn't think much about it. It made me nervous, but I tried to focus on the good that had come out of my last pregnancy. Knowing my history, my doc sent me for an ultrasound around 9 weeks. I took Luke with me so he could be the first to see his new baby sibling. I remember laying there. I couldn't wait for the tech to show me my baby. Instead, I was asked to go upstairs to see my doctor. I could tell by the look on her face. I went upstairs and they got me in immediately - another clue because we ALL know OB offices are never on time. When my doctor came in, she took my son to sit with a nurse. She sat down and I just cried. She hadn't gotten a single word out before I fell to pieces. So many emotions rushed through me. The baby I had once questioned was now gone. Emptiness immediately took hold. My doctor took my hand. She walked me through her own miscarriage experience and then she prayed with me. She prayed and she cried with me. She offered me to options: miscarry naturally or surgery. Without hesitation, I chose surgery. I just wanted it over. Much of the rest of the next few days are a blur. Lots of tears, lots of hugs, and lots of WHY? For the sake of closure, we decided our baby is a boy. We named him. I felt by naming him, it helped give significance to my grief. I didn't like saying "it" all the time. Our baby is not an "it", our baby is a baby. I remember that after my surgery, my mom brought Luke back to our house. He is such a tender-hearted boy and he knew that something had changed. And he asked me. We had a sweet conversation about our baby and how our baby now gets to be with Jesus. "Can we go see him?" he would ask. Oh how I wish we could. The next several months were filled with many conversations like that. We still talk frequently about his baby brother and how we can't wait to go see him. These conversations are how Romans 8:28 came alive in our house. In Romans, we are told that God works ALL things to the good of those who love the Lord. Not that good things always happen, but that He can use any situation for His glory. I really hate that we lost a baby, I really do. I hate that any woman has to know that her baby has died inside her body BUT I am aware of the good that came from the trial as well. On October 18, 2012, Luke asked if his baby brother was really in Heaven. We went through the same dialogue we had been going through for months. But that night was different. That night, something clicked. He became completely and totally aware of his sin and the separation from God caused by that sin. He also became aware of how much he one day wanted to enter Heaven and spend eternity with his brother. That night, my son became a believer. That night, my son received eternal life because he has a baby brother who he never was able to hold but still taught him a powerful lesson. THAT night, Romans 8:28 came alive in our living room. God took our grief and our disappointment and used it to save my son. God showed himself to me in a way He never had prior to that time. His promises became evident to my sinful, undeserving self. So as I sit, I think about how much I wish I could have read a story like that when we lost our baby. Perhaps our story can offer perspective to someone traveling through a storm right this very moment. Perhaps the Lord prompted me to write to provide more healing for myself. I don't know why. But I do know that when I follow His prompts, He shows himself through my obedience. November 28, 2012 should have been a day of celebration as we welcomed our baby Logan into this world. Instead, it will be a day that we reflect on God's goodness. A day where I will CHOOSE to pause and see HIS provision triumphs all of our trials if we allow His presence to fill us. I would be lying if I said I wasn't sad. I am sad. I long to hold my sweet baby, but I also CHOOSE to give thanks for the 2 beautiful children I get to hold each and every day this side of eternity. I choose hope. I choose peace. I choose gratitude. Our story isn't done. We are still a work in progress. But I am so thankful for a God that continues to pursue me. Continues to make Himself known to me when I am willing to be aware. Jeremiah 1:5 “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,before you were born I set you apart"

The Great Mom Debate

So, who has it worse? The stay-at-home mom or the working mom. I hear so much discussion. Both sides claiming no one has any idea how hard they work and how easy the other has it. I recently had a play date with 2 other moms: 1 works as a full-time stay-at-home mom, the other works part-time outside the home and I work full-time outside the home. As we were talking, this topic came up. Instead of, "You have no idea how hard I work," I heard us saying things like, "I don't know how you do it," "You are so lucky," "I admire you" to each other. I was so taken back by the positive comments since it is in such contrast to how we women usually treat each other.

Why do we, and by we I mean me, feel like we have to "one up" each other when talking about our jobs? Why do we minimize the work of others as if that will somehow make our work more appreciated? Why do we lack so much confidence in our work that we need it validated by others.

So, I have it figured out. Yup, Me and my 27, almost 28 years (YIKES) of life, has the answer to this great debate. Who has the harder job? Guess what ladies, you both do! It is my belief that there is no job more difficult than being a parent. And let's not leave dad out either. Raising kids is tough, whether you work inside or outside of your home. You have a daunting task in front of you. So, yeah you, you win! You win 18+ years of the hardest job in the world that carries the best, most rewarding payout.

As I thought about my job, I was convicting to really start focusing and communicating the "pros" that I encounter every day. I feel fortunate. I am a teacher. As a teacher, I get to work 9-10 months a year and be off the entire summer. Are those 9 months tough with many long hours/days? Yes, just ask my hubby. But they are so worth it. I to stay home and work. SO, here's just a few things I love about being a stay-at-home mom and a working mom.


Stay at Home MOM

1. Getting dressed can mean just changing into clean jammies
2. I can shower when I want
3. No make-up
4. I get to spend the whole day with my kids teaching them about Jesus
5. I get to go on playdates
6. I can nap :)
7. I walk away exhausted but happy

Working Mom
1. I get to wear nice clothes that don't have boogers
2. I'm forced to start my day
3. Make - up
4. I get to teach kids about Jesus,and be in my church
5. I get to have lunch with girlfriends everyday
6. I get to impact the lives of children other than my own
7. I walk away exhausted but happy




So, no matter where you find your job right now, find a way to honor God. If you're not honoring Him in whatever you are doing, then none of it really matters anyway. We're all fighting the same fight. Let's fight it together. I guarantee if you are having a bad day, there's another mom out there feeling the exact same way. And if they tell you they're not ... they're probably putting on a brave face. Wherever you are working, know you are a great mom with lots of valuable work on your resume. Don't let anyone take that from you :) Now, go be a fantastic mom!

So blessed

So, today I took Molly in for her 4 weeks well-check. In classic Molly-style, She got ticked as they were looking her over. So ticked that she did her "I'm going to hold my breath and not breathe and turn purple" ticked. Once the breath returned to her body, she let out a few coughs and the doctor looks at me and says, "That's a croup cough." I couldn't believe it. How could she have come down with yet another virus.

I know enough about medicine to know that her cough wasn't that bad and that there was very little I could do about it so I might as well go about my day.

As I was walking in to get Luke from school, I ran into a friend and we were talking. She asked me who our Ped was and then said, "Does EVERYONE go to that ped?" To which I responded with the million reasons why we just love our ped. Here are just a few:

1. He nor his office staff has ever made us feel stupid. Now, we have taken Luke in for some silly symptoms that we blew out of proportion, but Dr. McGranahan has ALWAYS made use feel like our concerns were valid. At one point, when we were dealing with the RSV madness, I gave him permission to tell me I was overreacting, but he refused.

2. He is invested in my kids. We always felt like he knew us when we just had Luke. When I had Molly, I figured there was no way he would be able to pretend as well that he was invested in our family. However, when he made his rounds at the hospital, he came to my room and talked to me about Molly. Then he asked about Luke. Then he began to compare Luke and Molly.

Today, I was joking with him about how Luke's growth curved were always high and how his head followed his own curve. Dr. McGranahan actually finished my joke about the head growth curve because he remembered because he is invested.

3. He has an awesome staff. When the nurse, Casey, came out to get Molly today, she came out with arms out. She was ready to hold my baby. We talked about my kids, joked, and just enjoyed each other's company. She went to go get me some formula samples while I fill out paper work. When she came back, Molly was in my arms screaming, again, and Casy saw the frustration and exhaustion all over my face. She scooped up my precious girl and comforted her so I could relax and fill out paperwork.

There are so many more reasons why we love Dr. McGranahan and A-Z Pediatrics, many many more. Most of all I think I appreciate that they act like real people with real families and real empathy. I never feel like a number or obligation. They always make us feel like they care about what we are worried about. So, a big thank you to Dr. McGranahan, Casey and LEslie. We have been so blessed by you. If you are in need of a ped, please consider their office. YOu may have to drive a little further but it is so worth it.

Looking for the lesson

Let me preface this post by saying that I am in no way seeking a compliment nor rational advice. Merely being transparent and relaying some thoughts that are spinning around in my head. So often, I feel alone in this whole mom thing. I feel like I fail so often. I find encouragement when I see that other moms are not as together as I thought. SO here goes ...

I have asked God many times today, where is the lesson? What are you trying to teach me that I am not seeing? In the past 3 weeks, My husband has been sick, I delievered a baby, my son came down with RSV, my daugheter was jaundice, my daughter tested positive for RSV, and the list could really keep going. My family has felt pretty well stepped on.

Today as I sat in the doctor's office with my nearly naked baby in my arms, waiting for the doctor, I asked God, "What are you trying to teach me? Can I learn this lesson in a different way?" Unfortunately, He didn't answer or send some parting of the Red Sea kind of answer.

The only answer I can come up with is just wait, be patient, surrender. I don't know about you, but those are some pretty difficult things to ask of any mom, but especially a postpartum, emotional, irrational, hurting mama. And yet, I seem to find comfort in that. I find comfort in knowing that I know the ONE I can surrender my babies to.

When I left the doctor's office, I sat crying hysterically in my car for a few minutes. And I just kept repeating, "I know they're not mine, they're yours." And that was all I could pray.

As I drove away, all I could think about was how I needed my precious infant prayed over. So I drove to my church. I had called Lora Fuller to ask her to have a pastor ready when I got there. But when I arrived, there was not one pastor, but 2. ANd not 2 pastors but a whole group of people from the church staff and MCS that huddled around my baby girl and laid hands on her. As they prayed over her in our little holy huddle, I really felt the presence of God. And as they prayed, I could utter but few words and just cry, surrendering it all to Him.

Did I learn a lesson today? I think I did. Can I verbalize? Not yet. I think like so many situations in our lives, the lesson doesn't become clear until our crisis has passed. But I have faith that it will pass.

Oy!

2 Corinthians 4:

7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10 We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11 For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. 12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.

13 It is written: “I believed; therefore I have spoken.”[b] Since we have that same spirit of[c] faith, we also believe and therefore speak, 14 because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you to himself. 15 All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.

16 Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17 For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18 So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.



Over the past 30 minutes or so, I have been meditating over these verses. DO you ever feel like life keeps smacking you in the face? I know I sure do, especially over the last week. Whew, a week where we should be lost in love with our two beautiful lessons, yet we have allowed our flesh to focus on the troubles we have seen.

Heal sticks, postpartum blues, recovery, etc have been smacking us around. Luke has also not been feeling well, hacking and snotty over the last week. Jeremy kept trying to convince me to take him to the doctor and I kept trying to convince him that it wasn't worth the copay to be told he has a virus.

So today, Lukey finally went to the doctor. I reluctantly called the ped and got him in, even though I KNEW, I'm telepathic you know, what the doc would say. But guess what, I was wrong. He is not only wheezing, like my husband said, he also has a possible case of RSV. Then our toilet broke AND I was confronted with the lovely reality of what paychecks will now look like when my unpaid leave is deducted.

Can you say pity party????

But as I stood in my kitchen this afternoon making iced tea, God brought these verses to mind. And I began to think, is this really so bad? Does Luke being sick stink? Yes. Does the thought of my baby girl getting sick make me want to vomit? absolutely. Do we want to buy a new toilet? Absolutely not.

BUT ....

Am I blessed with 2 beautiful children? Uh huh. Luke is not only on the tail-end of this nastiness but will probably get to go to school Monday (PLease Lord) if he can stay fever free since he is now on roids :). We have a nice home, food in our bellies and clothes on our backs.

As I thought about these verses I think about all the REALLY sick babies out there. Babies that may never leave the hospital. It doesn't make me any less unhappy that my own baby is suffering, but it sure puts it in perspective.

My focus has been off. Instead of focusing on the ONE who holds the plan, I have been derailed by the twists plan. I forget that what is seen is temporary. This too shall pass. One day I will look back on these days and what will I remember? I probably won't focus on remembering the sleepless nights or hours of disinfecting. I hope I will remember snuggling my babies and cherishing the short time that they stay little.

So I still don't think I have "LET GO" like I talked about the other day. My flesh is still trying to convince me that I can fix this. But I can't, HE CAN. I choose to focus on Him, knowing that he loves my babies more than I ever could or would. And perhaps He is using this experience to give me a glimpse into how His heart must break as He watches us suffer. As He watches so many of his own children turn their back on the ONE who promises to walk with us, no matter the circumstances.

Now, off to wipe noses, butts and counters. But not with the same cloth :)