Musings of a Facebook User

So I have a confession to make: I am a facebook creeper.  Oh don't kid yourself, you know you are too.  I meet someone, we have mutual friends, they pop up on my feed and I check out their photos.  Nothing too in depth, I don't go back to 2013, I'm not that creepy, but I am curious about people.  And what is so common in the land of social media--I make judgments. 

So it had recently come to my social media attention that a woman I don't really even know but have been introduced to before is pregnant.  Congrats!  Me too!  I find out via a picture of her wearing a super cute maternity outfit.  I find myself jealous: I need a super cute maternity outfit like that.  Also, why is she so glamorous with her smile and her makeup?  Oh, it's because it's her first kid.  I start thinking to myself, "Well girlie, let me tell you, when you are several kids in and elbow-deep in toys and sippy cups and bodily functions, the cute hair and makeup will be part of your past.  Unless it's not... then maybe you should reconsider your priorities."  

Ok, so maybe I am more than a facebook creeper.  I am a judgmental creeper one as well. 

Fast forward a week or two and I see the same girl at a holiday party.  The same holiday party that I quickly got dressed for, including doing some lunges to fit into the pre-maternity pants one more time.  I throw on some makeup and curl my hair, which quickly uncurls in the Florida humidity.  On the glamour scale-o-meter I was probably ranking a five or a six, maybe a seven so I was feeling OK about myself.  Then I see her, the girl I don't even barely know.  She shows up in a maternity gown.  A freaking gown I tell you.  And she is glamorous and beautiful and the ugly green monster rears its ugly head:

"Dear God," I pray, "can this woman please inherit a baby that has colic? Yes she is glamorous and beautiful now, but at 3 am when the baby is crying and she is pacing the floor, life won't be so glamorous will it?"

And immediately I feel it.  Why oh why do I judge someone's outsides and base all of my insides on it?  This beautiful, pregnant woman had no idea of the vindictive thoughts that went on inside my head.  The truth is, I look at people in a brief snapshot and I immediately assume their lives are perfect.  I don't know if:

• This girl and her mother are estranged during the Holiday season
• The woman that I think "has it all together" just found out her father has been diagnosed with cancer.
• The man with the successful career deals with depression
• The woman who lives a carefree life with the magazine-picture home cries herself to sleep at night because she can't conceive
• The college student who travels around the world is fighting the heartache of love lost

Over and over again I am reminded that those around me have their own struggles.  No one is exempt from the trials of this world.  No one is exempt from hurt. 

And in between all of it, there are times of beauty and peace.  Maybe this woman that I noticed, maybe her life is going really well right now.  That is great too. 

I am nowhere near arriving, but I am thankful for the reminder that everyone, everyone has their struggles.  It may not be at the same time, or in the same way, but we all do.  And maybe, maybe instead of judging and assuming and wishing them to feel the struggle like I do, maybe I can "rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those that mourn."

Praying about that.  In between Facebook posts, of course.
 
Who knows?  Maybe I can end up really befriending those people I start by judging.  And maybe we can go maternity shopping together.

Kate's Birth Story: Part III--Keeping on Keeping On

   My due date was all set for Wednesday, February 26th.   However, with my son being "late" and my Mom not really going early on any of her births, I did not expect to go before my due date.  A couple of days before I had some contractions that started in the early evening and ended a few hours later.  The first night it happened (Sunday) we were at my parents house two hours away.  We rushed home to Lakeland only to be finding ourselves twiddling our thumbs asking, "anything... anything?"  In the meantime, we had called several people and let them know what was going on.  A well-wisher had put something on the internet which led to an onslaught of "baby yet?" comments.  Lesson learned.  When labor really started we were keeping our big mouths shut until Kate arrived.

Feb 27--Thursday Morning and Afternoon

    At around 7 AM I started feeling some cramping.  Contractions were coming about every 6-8 minutes.  I texted Josh at work to give him a "heads up" that things were different and were possibly starting to roll.  He called me back asking if he could just please come home.  At the time my brother Michael was living with us.  He promptly got put to work making me my favorite omelet.  Hey, a woman has to have fuel for the hard work of pushing a baby out, right?  Josh eventually came come not too much later and my Mom was called to make her two hour trip toward us.  She arrived around 11 and it was so fun to see her.  I felt like it was the start of a fun, somewhat uncomfortable, soon to be painful party.

   Other activities that morning included: buying and setting up a new toilet seat for our toilet.  I knew one of the strategies midwives used was having a birthing Mom sit on the toilet to labor for contractions.  It sounds gross, but I guess there's something about the way that sitting like that opens up your pelvis, etc.  I was able to find out all about that in the future, but for now, I had a toilet seat that kept sliding off.  Trying to stay on a toilet did not sound like a fun activity in the middle of a contraction.  Michael was sent out for a new toilet seat at Lowes.  He was also sent out for donut holes from Hole in One Donuts.  Again, fuel for labor.

 The afternoon continued on.  Me, bouncing on a ball or stopping briefly for contractions, my Mom or Josh helping timing them on my smart phone with a contraction app, and us all hanging out/resting.  At this time contractions were painful and I was stopping to breathe through them.  My Mom would announce, "that was a good one," and not going to lie, I felt proud.  I was doing this.  I was doing this labor thing.  I fully expected Kate to arrive that evening or at sometime that night.  Oh, naivety.

  Earlier that morning I called my midwife Melissa just to inform her that things were "cooking."  She asked just to be kept up with what was going on as she had clinic that day until five.  Around that time, I texted her that she should probably come by after work to check on me.  Melissa and Michelle (the midwife-in-training) arrived, performed a cervical check, and observed me during a contraction.  Melissa then very carefully informed me that it looked like I was in this for "the long haul."  At that point, after contractions for most of the day I was still only at one centimeter and was not quite in "active labor."  I wanted to inform her then and there that I was for sure in active labor, didn't she see that I was in pain?  Her recommendation was for me to try to get as much rest as possible.  She also recommended that I take two calcium, two benadryl, eat a good meal, take a bath, and try to sleep.  At this point contractions were still around 6-8 minutes apart.  I was super bummed but tried to keep my spirits up.  Side note: my mother and father in law were watching Jackson during this time.  It was such a relief to know he was being well cared for and I was not worrying about his everyday needs.

    After following Melissa’s recommendations we headed to bed.  All throughout the night I would wake up around every ten minutes, stand on the side of the bed, tell Josh to start the contraction app, breathe through each contraction, and then climb into bed.  Josh would hold my hand while I was breathing.  I would say to him, “tell me nice things,”  he would whisper, “ugh good job.”  Other times by the end of the contraction he would fall back asleep.  Don’t worry, he will more than redeem himself later on in this story.  Around 11 PM I went to the living room so that Josh could sleep more restfully.  My brother was out there on the computer..  I’m not sure how comfortable he felt with me every ten minutes getting up from laying on the couch and then pacing during a contraction, but he kept quiet about it and his presence was calming.  

Friday Morning and Afternoon

    Friday morning Josh and I decided to go on a walk around the neighborhood.  It must have been interesting for the neighbors to see a waddling pregnant lady leaning on her husband’s arm trying to make their way around the neighborhood. A couple of neighbors called out of their homes, “When are you going to have this baby?”  And we would respond, “Hopefully soon, we’re in labor now!”  There were several contractions during this time that were quite intense.  I was getting excited that things might be moving along. Sometime late Thursday morning Melissa stopped by to check on me again.  Things were around the same.  Contractions were between 6-8 minutes apart and still (for me) somewhat heavy intensity (or so I thought).  She recommended for me to try to get my mind off of labor and that I still had a way to go.  That was not really what I wanted to hear. Melissa advised that I put the contraction app away, try to get out of the house, and maybe grab a smoothie or something.  At this point, I did not have much of an appetite, but it was probably good for me to get some more fuel for labor.  

Off my Mom and I went to smoothie King.  While in line, I had several “good” contractions.  I didn’t want to freak anyone out so I tried to act as normal as possible.  Not quite as easy as I thought.  We had been thinking about going to Hobby Lobby, but after trying our outing at Smoothie King, it didn’t seem very fun.  Nonetheless, we ended up at the plant nursery down the road from our house.  There weren’t many people there, so I didn’t feel the pressure to act like I wasn’t in labor, though I was being rocked with contractions.  Every couple of minutes I would stop at a particular plant, act like I was interested, and breathe through.  The fresh air and beauty, not to mention the Carribean way smoothie were good for reviving my spirits.  

    Also good for reviving my spirits was my friend Annie.  She knew I was still in labor and I texted her when I was discouraged.  She without a beat sent me several jokes to my cell phone.  One was a shared joke whenever we have a rough day we remind each other: “If Britney Spears can make it through 2007, you can make it through today.”  It was so good to laugh and was much appreciated.  I also pulled up my pinterest and looked  through my “funny stuff” album.  The images, jokes, and pictures lifted my spirits as well.  Laugher is great medicine.  I knew all that time on Pinterest was good for something :)

  Another pick-me-up came from my sister Amy.  She called and related a dream from the night before.  She she was playing in a field with Kate several years from now.  It was one of those scenes from a movie, where they were running through a field of wildflowers.  Amy said, “Kelly, she was so, so beautiful!”  Later on, when I was in the throes of labor I would tell myself, “you have to get through this.  You are having a beautiful girl.  Amy said so.”  

Friday Evening

    Friday evening Melissa and Michelle came by to check me again.  At this point, I had been in labor something like 36 hours.  Though my contractions were not necessarily coming closer together (maybe sometimes as soon as five minutes apart), I had had some intense ones all afternoon.  I thought surely I was making some strong progress and that Kate would be coming soon.  They did a cervical check and… I was only three centimeters.  I was crestfallen.  36 hours of contractions and I was only three centimeters?  They asked if I would be willing for them to “stretch” me a little and I quickly agreed.  The next contraction came and they “stretched” me to four centimeters.  That was not my favorite, but I was hoping that progress would be made.   My body was tired.  I had very broken sleep the previous night.  More than my body being tired I was emotionally spent.  At this point I told Melissa I did not know how much longer I could go.  I told her that I could do this maybe for another 24 hours, and then I would go to the hospital.  After all of my plans for a VBAC and all of my hours in labor,  I really did not want to go to a hospital, but I was worried that maybe my body just maybe was not working like it was supposed to.

 Melissa and Michelle ended up staying for a little while longer and hung out.  We joked that, “hey, maybe you will go home and then have to turn right around.”  I hoped and hoped that it would be true.  Not convenient for them, but true.  Melissa again recommended the benadryl/calcium combination so that I would rest as best as I possibly could. I took one calcium, but didn’t want to be looped up on benadryl just in case Kate decided to make her grand debut during the evening. I was hopeful yet skeptical that she would ever come.  Maybe I would be in perpetual labor forever. 

Kate's Birth Story-- Part II: Preparation

And the saga continues....

Part II- Preparation for Homebirth

    So now it was time to prepare: physically, emotionally, spiritually.  I was halfway hesitant to tell people about my decision.  I feared their immediate reaction was to think that I was trying to be a hero, or weird, or some “one with the world and all my feelings and thoughts” mother.  I also have come to realize that with motherhood, opinions are like buttholes, everyone has one, and it’s all best if we keep ours to ourselves.  (Not sure if that is the best analogy, but it feels right right now).  Nonetheless, it was kind of fun to see everyone’s reaction when I told them about my decision to birth at home.  Other people looked at me as if I had two heads when I told them my decision and some practically did back flips.  Still some were curious.  My husband was supportive but hesitant.  After all, I had decided to be induced with an epidural last go round and wanted all natural this time--a complete switch.  His words: “I’m going with you, but if it turns out badly I get to choose next time.”  He also informed me that if I was doing this, he wasn’t going to let me back out if it got tough.  He was in my corner though, and that is what mattered.

    One of my biggest fears in preparation was wondering if I would be strong enough to handle labor.  There’s this (mostly) joke among family members that I complain to everyone around if I get a bug bite.  Maybe it’s mostly (ok all the way) true.  The first go round with Jackson I was in labor for several hours.  It was brought on with petocin (hello 0-60 mph contractions in about 10 minutes!), and with very little break in between intense contractions, I quickly asked for an epidural.  Shortly thereafter I needed a C-section due to my son’s dropping heart rate, and then I had surgery and the recovery thereafter.  Side note: I never known about the high correlation between induction and C-sections.  My husband swears he mentioned it to me.  I have no memory of this.  I digress.  

    I was curious how this whole natural labor thing would go.  Deciding that research and knowledge were one of the best ways to prepare, I asked for book recommendations.  One of the most forefront midwives and proponents of natural birth is a lady by the name of Ina May Gaskin.  She is gifted with knowledge from her many years delivering babies on “The Farm”-- oh you know, a hippie commune her and her husband started in the 70’s.  The first half of her book Ina May’s Guide to Natural Childbirth was a collection of birth stories designed to inspire, while the second half included the more scientific descriptions of how it can and will all go down.  Some of the stories inspired me, some scared me and some not going to lie, weirded me out (If you’ve read Gaskin you probably understand).  Nonetheless, over time I was starting to believe that maybe, just maybe I could push a baby out of my vagina and live to tell the tale.  

    I asked friends about their birth experiences.  I asked my Mom, an awesome woman who had six natural births--three of them with babies 10 pounds and above, how she did it.  They were all so very encouraging.  “Natural birth is gradual, there are breaks between contractions, when you think you can’t go on you’re almost done”-- I heard these words time and time again.  If women all throughout the course of history have given birth, I could probably too.

    The visits to the midwife were so wonderful.  Melissa and the rest of her staff were a world away from the impersonal doctors office appointments I had experienced with Jackson.  I looked forward to these appointment, the measurements and the heartbeats, the talks and the encouragements. More than one appointment I sat with Melissa and Michelle and cried--sad tears and happy tears.  They at times cried with me.  It was better than visiting a therapist.  The level of prenatal care I received with them was superb.

    The time came for a sonogram.  My sisters Lindsay and Rachael came to visit for the occasion.  It felt like Christmas, having family around and finding out good news-- we definintely wanted to know the sex of the baby.  After the technician initially being hesitant to announce, she eventually confirmed: we were having a girl.  I was ecstatic-- ribbons, and pink and painted toenails were all in my future!  I loved my boy.  I was so excited to love my girl--soon agreed to be named Kate.  

    During the middle part of my pregnancy I experienced awful hip and lower back pain.  The kind that would leave me knocked out on the couch halfway through the day just wanting to lay horizontal.  With several months to go, and a very active three year old boy to wrangle, this was not looking to be much of an option.  Enter in the wonderful practice of chiropractic in addition to yoga at my local gym.  Between those two I started to feel close to normal again.  I fell in love with yoga and remained a faithful participant several times a week until the last couple weeks of my pregnancy.  I’m sure the instructors at the end were worried that my water was going to break in the middle of downward dog, but hey, it didn’t.  Bonus: I was able to keep up with some of the 60 year old ladies in the room!  For someone who wasn’t very active to begin with, along with the fact that I had a bowling ball strapped around my middle, I considered this quite the accomplishment.

    Toward the end of my pregnancy I had a couple of hiccups in the road to my home VBAC.  One was at a checkup my midwife Melissa checked for the baby’s positioning.  At this point I only had a couple of weeks to go and the baby was supposed to be head down.  It seems like she might have flipped according to “feeling around.”  After putting it out to the good ol’ facebook prayer chain and waiting a couple of days, I headed to one of the clinics that my midwife worked at for a sonogram.  Praise God, Kate was head down, locked and loaded and ready to go.

    The other hiccup I experienced was that I had to visit a hospital to have a doctor sign off that I was a candidate for VBAC.  I headed to Winnie Palmer in Orlando with a friend at week 38 to the high risk clinic.  I was angry because for wanting to push a baby out of my vagina I was considered high risk.  Ridiculous.  At the visit the doctor got all my medical information, along with previous birth experience, and Kate’s medical records so far.  All indicators that I was a perfect candidate for a Trial of Labor (TOL).  The doctor told me that she would “let” me try for a VBAC.  She would “let” me go until my due date until they cut me open.  Or they would induce me on that day if I would like (nothing like a scarred uterus getting some petocin!).  I thanked her for signing my trial of labor paper and then informed her I was not planning on birthing there.  She thought I was going to be her patient!  I’m sure she would have “let” me be her patient.  She informed me she could not endorse a home VBAC, and I told her that I was not asking for that, I was simply asking her if I was a candidate for a trial of labor.  I was.  And I thanked her for her time, left, and promptly called up my midwife with the good news that my paperwork had been approved. I also thanked her for believing in the whole process of birth and “allowing” my baby to pick her own birthday.  

    As time went on, I consolidated my birthing team which consisted of my mother in law, my midwife, the midwife in training, the birthing assistant from the practice, my friend/birth photographer, my Mom, and my husband.  I was thinking about putting out an “open house” sign whenever I was in labor for whoever else wanted to come but decided against it.  On a side note, I asked my Mom to work alongside my husband Josh to function as a birth coach/doula.  I figured after six natural births she probably knew what she was doing.  I was nervous though.  I wasn’t sure how I’d handle the pain.  Would I scream?  Would I cry?  Would I curse like a sailor?  I wanted to make sure that no matter what I was free to birth however my body felt comfortable.  My Mom joked that she would only make small tally marks each time I yelled an off-color word.

    On the emotional/spiritual side I took one morning about two weeks before I was due to sit down and prepare.  I looked up blogs of other mothers who used Scripture verses to meditate on.  I wrote down and prayed through Scripture verses about endurance and pain and childbirth.  One in particular stood out to me: Romans 8:11-- “And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you.”  I would come back to that verse again and again during the hard stages of labor.  

    The time was running out.  We ran through a trial run of birthing tub in the living room, birth supplies were purchased and laid out, and we were read and prayed up.  All we needed now was a baby.  I tried putting on a weightlifting belt around my belly and doing lunges to no avail.  Kate was coming in her time, and like anything of lofty value, she was worth waiting for. 

 We all had our own ways of preparing

Kate's Birth Story--Part I: The Decision for Homebirth

Disclaimers: 1.  This is my story.  This is what worked for myself and Kate and our family.  Decisions we made are not to belittle other Moms or Dads or babies.  Everyone has their own preferences and choices. 2.  Also realize that with birthing stories there are details that some may not want to read (blood, boobs, vaginas, etc.).  That’s your choice.  I’m not going to be overly gory, but I’m not going to shy away or use substitute words.  3.  Unfortunately, as a self-proclaimed writer I like words.  A lot.  This is long.  So read it all, or don’t.  No hard feelings.

Well it’s been six months.  Long enough for me to regain some of my sanity from the newborn days.  Long enough for me to forget some details.  I wanted to write the story the most empowering experiences of my lifes so far: Kate’s birth.

The Decision for Homebirth

    I’m not normally the hippy dippy, crunchy, granola, etc. type.  In fact, if I could choose between essential oils and traditional medicine for pain relief, I will lunge for the valium every time.

However, my birth of my first son Jackson in 2010 threw a wrench in my plans.  He had been induced (my own request), and a host of other interventions including a epidural (reverse the curse!), ended up with his heart rate dropping and ending up in an emergency C-section.  I was healthy, my son was healthy, so I did not expect to end up in surgery.  However, ignorance was somewhat bliss in that situation.  I was happy to finally see my baby and happy that I wasn’t going to have to go through labor any longer.  Gratefully, the surgery went well and Jackson arrived in his 7 lb, 8 oz glory.  He was adorable.  I was exhausted and unable to keep my eyes open during the surgery.  Little did I know the recovery that awaited me.  I stayed in bed for twenty four hours, with my husband eventually helping me to walk to the restroom.  When the nursing staff asked me to walk around the hospital I cried.  Turns out pain meds are helpful for the ability to move around after surgery.  It was two weeks of painful recovery, of crying in the bathroom because my intestines needed to get back to normal after being rearranged in my body, of trying to get out of bed to get to my crying newborn without the help of working abdominal muscles (surprisingly needed), and trying to manage the equilibrium of hormones, etc.Thankfully my body recovered, my son was healthy, and I was healthy. I was all the more inspired, however, to try my hardest to have a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) on the next go round.  

Fast forward to summer of 2013.  The magical plus sign appeared the weekend after we moved to Lakeland.  We were ecstatic.  Now came the “fun” part: picking a care provider.  Even though statistically for most women it has been proven that a VBAC is safer, many doctors are not on board and either out of convenience or fear, chose to push repeat C-sections.  The local hospital around here is “willing” to do VBACs but if you cough wrong, go past your due date, get too snippy with the nurses, etc. they want to cut again. (Edit: lately I have been hearing more VBAC stories from this hospital: yay!)  My choice was to travel to Tampa or Orlando to try at a bigger hospital, or go to a midwife locally.  Friends of ours who tend to be more holistic had home births with a midwife and sang her praises.  I viewed them as some sort of superhero and crazy Moms.  Sure they can have pain-med free births, but I was not sure that was for me, I appreciate (and I thought needed) a good epidural and what about safety?  

On a whim, I decided to interview one of the local midwives, Melissa.  I came prepared with a list of questions.  She answered every one.  Her statistics for delivery were amazing in her ten years of practice.  I was convinced that baby and I would be monitored carefully for safety.  If anything went wrong they had medicine on hand and were not afraid to call an ambulance.  In fact, in case anything was wrong they would call and prep the operating room while I was on route.  One of the concerns for a VBAC is uterine rupture.  Although the chances are extremely rare, it is something to be mindful of.  I told her, “This is not me.  I’m not one to go au natural.  I like pain meds.  I hate pain.  If I had a chance, I’d do an epidural all day long.”  However, her response clicked something in me. Basically, the safest way to do a VBAC is without an epidural.  If there was a uterine rupture I would feel that something was wrong.  I needed to be able to feel.  That sealed the deal.  If I was going to VBAC I was going to have to do it naturally.  If I was going to do it pain-med free, I was not going to be strapped to a bed, without food or liquids.  A birthing center was not an option, as their insurance does not cover VBACs. I  was going to do it on my terms. I was going to birth in whatever way was comfortable.  Me, complaining whenever I get a bug bite Kelly, was going to do a natural birth.  At home.  

I braced myself.  It was time to prepare.

Change-- Five Minute Friday

     So today is my ten year high school reunion.  I can barely believe it's been ten years since I donned the cap and gown, hugged family and friends, and embarked upon a new adventure.  Smilling from ear to ear, I could hardly contain my excitement of moving into a new season of life.  I was so ready for adulthood.  Oh, adulthood.
    What has changed?  Like the changing of seasons, it happens slowly and then you turn around and everything is different.  I've graduated college, started a career, bought a house, got married, had 2 kids, bought another house.  {Side note: I feel like you can "pretend" to be an adult for quite some time.  Even with one kid, life kind of goes on.  Two kids?  I'm definitely promoted to "adult" status).  I've gained weight, lost weight, gained it again.  I have developed a couple of grey hairs and the start of wrinkles (hopefully more "smile lines" than "furrowed brows").  My level of independence has grown, and yet shrunk, because others depend on me now.
   I think about my beliefs.  My political convictions are not what they were.  Spectrums shifted to become more liberal or more conservative.  Like a muscle, my faith has been strengthened and challenged and shifted and adjusted.  Hopefully it will continue to do so.  
  And yet tonight when I meet the other members of my graduating class I'm tempted to put on a face, to make my life seem that is has become oh, so glamorous in the past ten years... and it has.  I have a husband that I can't imagine life without, two beautiful children who light up my life, and my life is filled with love from family and friends.  Sure, many days are not as glamorous--filled with spit up, whinny kids, and a husband who well, sometimes needs a helpmate more than I would like.  However, the change in my life has been oh, so good.   For that, I am eternally grateful. 
   

Five Minute Friday: Messenger

It started off with a little red dot on the corner of the infamous Facebook logo.  I had a message.  It could have been from just about anyone, but starting in the summer of 2009, my heart leapt at the possibility of words from him.

Two teachers, the summer and lots of time to kill.  Facebook messenger soon became worn out with frequent conversations.  They over the past several years had separately and coincidentally started teaching, bought houses, and rennovated.  The conversations started about those simple subjects and graduatally evolved into ideas about faith, family, stories about our upbringing, and all matters of serious and silly thoughts of the heart.  Eventually they found out that they both had spent time in the same South African country, in the same small town, with the same kids of an orphanage only a summer apart.  Oh, and they both liked pineapple on our pizza.  No ham.  Only pineapple.   They were obviously a match made in heaven.

Facebook messenger turned to emails, then to phone calls.  Phone calls turned into a blissful first date, a second, a third.  They were soon inseparable even during a semi-long distance relationship.  Talks turned to a summer wedding.

Then one day a new messenger appeared.  In the form of a faint plus sign, the couple learned they would not only be husband and wife soon, but father and mother.  Life would never be the same.

It's been now five years almost to the day of that first facebook message.  I am so thankful this upcoming holiday for the wonderful man that is Father to my two beautiful children.  Together we have grown and changed and cried and laughed and enjoyed life together.  In all of this, my wonderful husband, and "baby daddy" is the best messenger of the Heavenly Father's love.  For that I am eternally grateful.

Five Minute Friday--- Nothing

There are days when I feel like I can’t go on.  

Those are the days I have been up more times in the night than I can remember.  I’ve cleaned up too many toys, washed too many dishes.  I wait, again, for my distracted son to get his shoes on/get dressed/put away his dishes/follow instructions.  I already took lunch to my loveable but forgetful husband this week.  My 3 month old has had two blow out diapers today and I have been spit up on at least three times.  

I’m out of nice.  I’m out of patience.  I’m just out of everything.

Nothing more to give.

But then my littlest one smiles and coos at during our 3 AM feeding, our sacred, quiet time together.

I see a facebook message about an aquaintance’s son in the hospital...  And my own son runs to me and clutches my leg and begs me for the millionth and a half time that day to “please color with me.”

My husband and I catch eyes across the room.

And I find it. The love that comes from above springs up within me.  

I pick up my baby and set her chubby self on my lap.  I grab a crayon with the other one and lean in to my boy over the table decorated with papers waiting to be decorated.

 

I find it.  Something out of nothing.

Musings of a Former Shopper

I have a confession.  I am a woman, a (relatively) young woman. 

And I dislike shopping.

I think.

You see, back when I was single, and skinny, and had much more of a disposable income, shopping was thing the thing to do when meeting with friends, or needing entertainment on a Saturday, or really just whenever the mood struck. 

Don't get me wrong, I was always the type to bargain hunt:

"Shirts on sale for $7?  Wonderful, I'll buy 10." 

However, somehow along the way going shopping has lost a good portion of its luster. 

Lately, the extra spending money hasn't been always readily available (though there has been blessing from family during birthdays and holidays), and the clothes don't always fit like they used to (thanks to Jackson, my love for chocolate, and my lack of ability to stick to a good eating plan for more than two days).

More than that, I don't necessarily like who I turn into when I go into a clothing store. 

I feel inadaquate-- none of the clothes on the rack look like clothes that I own.  I must have no sense of style.  I must also get a new wardrobe.

I feel guilty--couldn't this money be used somewhere...useful?

I feel fat--  shouldn't stores have mirrors that they use at the carinival to make people look really skinny?  I think business would be way up for them. 

I feel like such a consumer.  Isn't life about more than just acquiring more and more stuff? Yet that is exactly what I find myself longing to do and doing.


Lately I have had the opportunity to do some extra shopping with time that my mother-in-law has so graciously offered and money that my husband has graciously not budgeted away. 

I have also been reading Jen Hatmaker's blog. One of  the many things she writes about is excess that Americans experience.  I find myself in many ways the typical American with typical American dreams of a cozy, cushioned, well-taken care of life.  I know that it is "the norm," what I am wondering is the consumer mindset healthy?  Does it lead me to "be content no matter the situation?"

I have also been reading up a little bit more on slave labor around the world.  Many of our everyday products come from modern-day slaves, a large portion of those slaves are children.  I am just delving into the research of this, a couple of websites being:
this and this and oh, this

This challenges me to a whole new level: not only do I need to check my heart about when I buy and why I buy, I should be actively looking at what I actually buy. 

The truth is this: I want to be perceived as "the person who has it together."  Ideally this would be reality, but I would be happy with the ill-contrived perception of it.  Most of the time this would include a picture of me driving my beautiful SUV, with my coordinated, up to date clothing while drinking a latte.

I have recently come to the conclusion that the whole "put together" image may never be a reality. 

I'm starting to become OK with that.

Musings of a Wanna-Be Leader

Leadership.  It seems that for years leadership has been a very talked-about and taught subject, especially in churches.  There are leadership conferences, books on leadership, CDs on leadership, leadership DVDS, leadership quotes, and even leadership underwear (OK maybe I made that last part up). 

It seems like everywhere Christians are striving to become leaders. 

A couple of weeks ago, after reading a friend's leadership quote on his facebook page, I got angry, really angry.  It hit me: seeking to be a leader is the exact opposite of what Christ has called us to seek after. 

Scripture verses relating to this (in no particular order):

• Mark 10:44-44   Jesus called them together and said, “You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them.  Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. 

• Luke 14:7-11  When he noticed how the guests picked the places of honor at the table, he told them this parable:  “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited.  If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place.  But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”  
• Luke 18: 16   But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these."  (How high on the totem pole were children in terms of societal views?  One of the lowest)
• Philippians 2:3-8   Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves,  not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross!

Those are just a few verses out of many.  

The truth is, I am not anti-leadership.  I LOVE leadership.  I love being in charge.  Anyone that knows me at all knows that.  I want things my way and for people to listen to me, after all I know what is best.  I LOVE to speak and for people to listen and to "oooh and ahhh" and marvel how they were inspired.


However, God has called me to something more.  He has called me to be meek.  He has called me to not tout my name and my position.   He has called me to be like the person of Christ: humble and a servant.


This is not easy.  I would prefer to have things my way.  To be the leader, to call the shots.  However, I must be content whatever the circumstances.  To love God and love others, whether or not it is noticed by the general public.  And I as much as I want to, I should not be humble so that in the end I will be exalted.  That is as bad as giving in order to get (but that is another post for another day).  

The beautiful thing is that God takes the no-ones and turns them into some-ones, who do have the opportunity to influence life and eternity for the better.  

It's just, where are your motives?




Here's to being a no-one.

Love Musings

One year.  As of this weekend, February 12th, Josh and I will be celebrating our one year anniversary of marriage.  I can honestly say I am so blessed.  For some couples their first year is the hardest.  For us it has been a wonderful, whirlwind of activity.  Even as we exit the "honeymoon" stage I can say that there are times that I am with my husband I have the ooey goeey, stars in your eyes, shoot you to the moon emotions.  However, those passionate feelings are not always there.  Then there are times we simply do life together.  I love him, there is not a question about that, but it is not driven by feelings. 

The same thing happens with my baby boy. Sometimes I look at my son and I have this overwhelming sense of love for him.  He can do just about anything and I will ohh and ahh and my heart will hurt because I love him oh so much.  Other times we go about our day together and I love him, don't get me wrong, but those heart-wrenching feelings are not there.  We just simply enjoy life together.

The other day as I was leaning over my son's bed and he was sleeping I experienced the heart-wrenching love moments.  But it hit me then that I do not always feel this way.  And it also hit me, do these relationships with my son and husband relfect my relationship with God?

You see at church sometimes I sing songs of how much I love God and I feel like a liar and a hypocrite.  You see, I do not always feel like I love God.  There are times I am overwhelmed with His love, His majesty, His mercy, His power and there are times that I simply enjoy just being with Him and knowing He is with me.  And after thinking about it in light of my other relationships I think that is OK. 

The amazing thing is that though my human heart is only capable of so much emotion, God is always passionate about me.  He is always passionate about you.  Now that is some serious lovin'.

Blog Challenge Day 7: Random Grace-Filled Musings

It's true... motherhood has turned me into a sap.  Where previously I could watch movies and hear stories and would not shed a tear, now I find myself crying or wanting to cry all the time, particularly when babies and children are involved. 

Especially this past week.  I was talking with a friend of mine who is going into child protective services.  After her day at training I jokingly asked her, "What did you learn at school today?"  Her answer: abuse.  She then proceeded to tell me several horrific stories of babies and young children being abused.  As I was holding my precious little one in my arms, I felt my stomach knotting up.  I felt tears coming to my eyes.  I also felt anger.  I wanted to find out who the abusers were from these stories and give them a taste of their own medicine.  Images of myself using violence against the abusers were flashing before my eyes.  At one point I said out loud, "Hell is going to be extra hot for those people."  Several of my siblings agreed.

Later on that afternoon I watched an interview of a lady who used to work for Planned Parenthood.  After helping with an ultrasound-assisted abortion she became convinced that it was not simply a "fetus," but it was a baby, a real human being who was fighting for its life.  My response? "Hell is going to be hotter for the abortion doctors."

But then I realized, "What if it is not?  What if the abusers, the abortion doctors, rapists, human traffickers, etc. come to a knowledge of God's saving grace through Jesus Christ?"

That stopped me in my tracks.  I wanted those people to burn.  I wanted them to burn long and hot.  But what should my response be?

After talking it over with my husband and sister and mulling it over for the better part of a week I have come to several conclusions based on all of this:
1.  It is good to be angry.  God is angry at injustice.  He sees everything that goes on and His heart breaks every time a child is hurt.  I cannot confuse God not always getting involved with God caring.  He cares.  He has a perfect Father's love.  And with God's love in my heart I must care too. 

2.  God does avenge injustice and he already has.  Because God is a just God He will repay wrongdoing.  He cannot let the guilty go unpunished.  However, Jesus took the guilt for those who believe.  He paid the price for the abuser, murderer, etc.  He took the punishment.  I heard a good quote recently: "The cross is where God's judgment and mercy meet."

3.  Just because the people that commit the atrocities mentioned (and others) may be forgiven, that does not mean that they will not struggle with that forgiveness.  As I have learned personally, most often mental anguish is a lot harder than physical. 

4.  It is hard to comprehend just how far grace reaches.  As humans, we are only willing to give grace as much as we have received it.  Those though that have experienced the fullness of God's grace can comprehend and are more likely to forgive others.  That is why Scripture says, "He who has been forgiven of much loves much."  Thank goodness that God's grace is not limited by human judgment or emotion.  

5.  I am not that far away from those that I am so angry at.  How often do you and I do things that we swore that we would never do?  As a totally depraved sinner, I am capable of all those things that I detest and more. Although I may not commit every sin, I am able to. 

So that's it.  No deep conclusion to bring these thoughts together. But I am glad I am thinking about grace and not just blindly accepting it.  Then I can sing all the more "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me."

Blog Challenge Day 6: Happiness

Today's assignment: A picture of something that makes you happy
This makes me happy

There are many other things that make me happy (including but not limited to): time spent with Jesus, reminiscing with old friends, tea(hot or cold), chocolate chip cookies, the Office, watching my little boy learn, playing games with my hubby, joking around with my family, talking on the phone with my mother-in-law, cooking, having a clean bathroom, having freshly shaved legs, clean sheets on the bed, when my (current) favorite song comes on the radio, taking pictures, looking at pictures, going out to eat, anything chocolate, hearing missionaries speak, learning something new, shopping at Publix, saving on our grocery bill, and most recently: blogging.

What are some of your favorite things?

Blog Challenge Day 5: My Siblings

My goal today was not to make this blog too long as I am tired but still want to continue writing.  However, the topic is my siblings and since I have 5 of them, we'll see how this goes.

Favorite Memories With My Siblings:

• Lindsay taking Snickers, my dog,  around the living room when we were moving.  She realized we were all sad to be moving from the house and announced, "come on Snickers, let's make a memory."  She then had snickers prance around the room like she was a prize show horse.  Snickers took on the challenge despite her homely looks.
• Michael wearing his short green shorts at inappropriate times and feeling the need to bust out in dance moves
• Rachael getting picked on by a guy in the youth group.  Her response: "You, you dumbo!!!"
• Amy going through a profanity phase as a toddler
• Christy and Amy singing Kareoke
• Cutthroat DDR (Dance Dance Revolution) competitions
• Silly dinner time conversations
• Throwing wrapping paper at Dad on Christmas instead of throwing it to him
• Secrets.  Not the fun kind.  The kind where a sibling gets really close to you in your ear and breathily says "I've got a ssseecret," while letting spit fly freely
• Hiding food in the fridge with notes like "Do not eat upon penalty of death" just in case someone found it.  
• Getting surprised with a dog not once, but twice in our lives
• Dressing up Michael as a girl when he was 2ish, and then seeing him dance around the living room while Dad yells for him to take it off
• Amy being the best baby whisperer ever
• Going to the story with Christy as a baby and pretending to be her Mom
• The death of Blueberry, our "precious" blue parakeet.  Afterward, Michael requested blueberry pie, blueberry muffins, and blueberries in general. Amy was less than pleased
• Michael stating on a car trip "I love horses.  They taste delicious."  Again, Amy was less than pleased
• On a different road trip coming up with titles for inappropriate childrens' books.  Among the many were "Comet Cleanser tastes like Kool-Aid"
• Rachael effortlessly doing her dance moves from dance class around the living room while I asked her repeatedly, "do it again, except slower this time."  
• Lindsay reading Leviticus 22:24 to the whole youth group when our youth pastor asked her to share a scripture verse.  Go ahead, look it up.

All in all, as I am thinking of these memories a big smile comes across my face.  However, at the time time it is bittersweet.  The sad truth is that we are all growing up.  The family dynamic is changing.  I'm married.  Lindsay is married.  Rachael moved over an hour away.  Michael is a senior and most likely will be going out of state to school next year.  Amy is a teenager now and growing up into a young lady.  Christy is 9 going on 25.  We have changed.  Life is moving on and we are creating memories of our own.


I have been blessed with many good memories, more than I could count.  Most of my memories include my siblings.  My Mom was right all these years: "Friends come and go, but family is forever."

Blog Challenge Day 4: My parents

Today my blogging assignment is pretty broad: my parents.  I knew this would be my assignment so last night when I was up feeding Jackson what was I thinking about at the grand ol' hour of 4 AM?  You guessed it....my parents.  At that time I had a great idea of just how I would write about them. It would be inspiring and moving and sentimental.  Then I woke up this morning and realized my grand idea would be way too mushy and weird.  So here goes.  Today's totally awake perspective:

Lessons I have learned from my parents:

On relationships--

• Put God first and foremost in your relationships (If I woke up early enough, I was always sure to see my parents doing their devotions together in the living room).  
• Friends come and go, but family is forever
• You are never told old to say "I'm sorry."
• "Shut up" is mean
• When looking for a spouse, it is important to find someone that you can communicate well with.  My parents to this day love "date nights" because they can just talk and talk without interuption.
• A child will be confident if he or she knows that their parents love each other
• No matter what, humans are not immune from sin.  Forgiveness is part of being a family.

On food:

• Self-control means two cookies, three cookies max
• Good food is worth waiting for
• Vegetables are necessary for every dinner
• If I think I don't like something, I should at least try a bite 
• Brussels sprouts are gross
• You can never have too much garlic

On driving a car:

• Set the cruise control to avoid speeding tickets

On a hard work ethic:

• "If we all work together as a team, we can get _________ done in just ten minutes."  (This was said for everything, from weeding the yard to cleaning the kitchen)
• Work really hard in high school to get the scholarships for college, then you can relax.

On education:

• You are never too old to learn (my Dad now texts using predictive texting--I'm so proud).
• Try your best.  That is all anyone can do.

On raising kids:

• Each kid is different, what works for one child may not work for another.
• Parents are to be respected and obeyed.  Kids do not always need an explanation beyond "because I said so."
• "I love you and am proud of you" can make your children want to conquer the world.
• Sock basketball, bucking bronko, and hide and go seek are what memories are made of.
• Discipline is important.  "I'm disappointed in you" can work just as well as a spanking.  However, spankings can be highly effective.
• Respect goes both ways between parent and child. 
• Time goes by too quickly.  You turn around and before you know it, your babies are grown up, married, and having babies of their own.  Cherish the time you have together.

These are just some of the many lessons taught by my parents.  I am blessed that they have poured so much into my life.  I'm thankful that I have them as a model as I am raising my own child(ren).

Aren't they good looking?  Besides a great heritage I'm also thankful for great genetics.

Blog Challenge: Day 3ish

I am skipping over day 2's blog challenge of the meaning behind my blog name because I have answered it in previous posts.

I am also skipping it because I can.

So onto Day 3: My First Love

As an aspiring writer and a connoisseur of great literature I immediately thought "what is my angle on this?"  However, the more I got to thinking of how creative my answer would be I came to two different, yet true conclusions. 

My first love I have known all my life.  This person is always right, always charming and just amazing in general.  You see, the person I have loved most deeply, most often is myself.  From the beginning I have been concerned about my desires, my needs, my thoughts.  It is taking motherhood for me to realize just how much I love myself.  I will always look out for me.  I think it is OK to love yourself, after all the second greatest commandment is, "love your neighbor as yourself."  However, I am not only called to consider others on level with my ability, greatness, talent, etc. (gag, I know), but according to Romans 12:10, "Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves." So that means that I need at times to give up my agenda for another person's.  It's hard, but God is teaching me.

The second love I have had is my wonderful husband Josh.  At the expense of getting too mushy I can honestly say he is the love of my life and God's gift to me.  In the past, I thought I was in love with various crushes, but after experiencing the real thing I can honestly say past crushes were not even a glimpse of what God had in store. 

Beyond the mushy, gushy, stars in your eyes love, Josh and I have made a commitment to each other.  We wholeheartedly agree and live by the statement that "love is a choice."  Even when we don't feel like it (which I am sure there will be days), I will choose to lay down my first love (myself), to love my husband first. 

We're coming upon our first wedding anniversary.  Looking forward to our 75th.  And everything in between....

Blog Challenge: Day 1

If you read my last post you know that I am taking up a 30 day Blog Challenge.  You see, when I was forced to write for school I actually enjoyed it (most of the time).  I had to write often so I became quite good at it (most of the time).  My hope and prayer is that by blogging I can sharpen those writing skills that I am sure have become quite rusty.  

Today's Assignment: 15 Random Facts

1.  I LOVE my family.  I have been blessed beyond measure and what I deserve with a family that is supportive, fun, and interesting to say the least.  This past year I have started my own family with marrying my (hot) husband Josh.  In August I gave birth to an adorable baby boy.  I will try not to gush over them too much in this blog.  No guarantees.  My birth family includes two amazing parents, 4 younger sisters and a younger brother.  I am proud of my siblings and who they are turning into.  We are a testimony of my parents' hard work and prayer.  I also have been blessed beyond measure with the family I married into.  The "in law" jokes do not apply.  They have taken me in as a daughter and for that I am so grateful.  Then I add in grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and I am overwhelmed with love.  Ok, I am getting too sappy here.  Time to move on to:

2.  Sometimes I write or say too much when asked a simple question (see #1 above).  I guess I just appreciate the art of storytelling.  Last night my sister Lindsay had a good quote: "Men give the headlines, women tell the story."

3.  I have developed quite the affection for cooking recently.  I come from a long line of talented cooks.  I hope I have inherited some of their ability.  In the meantime I am enjoying trying new recipes and learning.

4.  My husband is a self-proclaimed nerd.  As such he has introduced me to sci-fi shows like Battlestar Galactica and Firefly.... and I like them.  What does that make me?

5.  I have recently been reading the book of Psalms in the Bible.  It is refreshing to see a man of God deal with the emotions that I face: anger, fear, love, loathing.  He was still a man after God's heart.

6.  One of the best things about being a Mom is seeing my little boy's face when I walk into the room.  It's like his whole face lights up. 

7.  This past year I have been blessed to take an extended maternity leave from teaching.  Previously I taught 6th grade Language Arts.  Not sure if I am looking forward to that or dreading it.  Being a stay-at-home Mom is sometimes hard for me.  Sometimes it is awesome.  Same for teaching.

8.  I HATE to run.  I am bad at it so I don't do it.  I don't do it so I am worse.  It's a terrible cycle that I need to break.  Maybe tomorrow.

9.  Favorite chore: cleaning the bathroom (love the result of bleach).  Least favorite chore: sweeping and mopping the floor.  It just always seems so daunting to me. 

10.  Extreme couponing is my game/hobby.  It has been a blessing this past year to cut our grocery bill basically in half and still be able to eat quite well.  I promise to blog about how exactly it works in the future.

11.  Chocolate is an addiction of mine.  More recent addiction: hot tea in the morning.  Red Rose Tea is currently the brand.

12.  I love to laugh.  I love to hear my husband laugh.  And my little boy.  Before I was married, when I was out in the dating world, my #2 requirement for a man (besides the #1 of loving God) was that he made me laugh.  I found a man who does.  Plus, he makes me think.  So double bonus.

13.  My dream job is to travel the world, interview missionaries and the people they serve with, and write about them.  

14.  I would like to become more crafty.  Not in the scheming way, but in the Martha Stewart way.

15.  I love to read. I am always up for new book recommendations, so if you have any please share.

Here's my sweet family:

30 Day Blog Challenge

This past week I was catching up on my facebook reading and stumbled upon a link to a fellow Mom's blog.  In it, she was taking up the 30 Day Blog challenge from thebump.com (a baby website linked with theknot.com).  I have been wanting to Blog more often but do not always know what to write about.  So I decided to "borrow" (read: steal) the idea.  I figure it will keep me more motivated to follow a set schedule of writing and then maybe I will be more in the habit.  So over the next 30ish days you can expect to see:

Day 1-Introduce, recent picture, 15 interesting facts
Day 2-Meaning behind your blog name
Day 3-Your first love
Day 4-Your parents
Day 5-Your siblings
Day 6-A picture of something that makes you happy
Day 7-Favorite movies
Day 8-A place you've traveled to
Day 9-A picture of your friends
Day 10-Something you're afraid of
Day 11-Favorite TV shows
Day 12-What you believe
Day 13-Goals
Day 14-A picture you love
Day 15-Bible verse
Day 16-Dream house
Day 17-Something you're looking forward to
Day 18-Something you regret
Day 19-Something you miss
Day 20-Nicknames
Day 21-Picture of yourself
Day 22-Favorite city
Day 23-Favorite vacation
Day 24-Something you've learned
Day 25-Put your iPod on shuffle, first 10 songs
Day 26-Picture of your family
Day 27-Pets
Day 28-Something that stresses you out
Day 29-3 Wishes
Day 30-a picture

Some will be combined, some will be omitted and some will be added.  Feel free to "borrow" this yourself.  Send me the link and we can read, write, and enjoy together :)

Musings of a Thankful Heart

Let's be honest:

2009 sucked.  For me, personally.

Between family emergencies, sicknesses, personal failures, almost deaths, and many other hard, hard situations, a year ago I was ready for a new beginning, a fresh start.

Thank goodness for a new year just in time.

This past year, especially at Thanksgiving I was thinking over the faithfulness of God.  The year 2010 was one of new beginnings, new perspectives, and new life.  Among other things this year I was able to experience:
*Being married to my wonderful husband.
*Going on a honeymoon (a little piece of heaven)
*Traveling across the US (Wisconsin, Washington DC, North Carolina, and various other places)
*The birth of my beautiful, sweet son Jackson
*My sister Lindsay's wedding
*My sister Rachael graduating from nursing school
*Reconnecting with old family, connecting with new
*And other blessings to numerous to count

Don't get me wrong.  This year has not been a total cakewalk.  I think any mother that has walked the floors with her crying infant, trying not to cry along with him can testify to that.  However, I have seen God's grace in the midst of this year.  It could have turned out so differently.

The past two years I have not only learned about mercy and grace, I've lived them.

One of my favorite definitions of mercy and grace is: God's mercy is not getting you what you deserve.  Grace is God giving you more than you deserve.

I feel like 2009 I experienced God's mercy.  2010 was a year of experiencing God's grace.

As you reflect on this past year and look toward the next I want you to be encouraged by the reality of God's grace and mercy.  This past year may have been a great one for you financially, relationally, emotionally, etc.  It may have been a year that you wish you could forget.  However, the truth is that God's mercies are not only new on a yearly basis, they are new every morning.

So it's easy to take stock of a year and look forward to next year, but remember life happens one day at a time.


Lamentations 3:22-23
 Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

Musings of a Snot Sucker

Nasal aspirator, nose cleaner, snot sucker, plastic ball looking thing.  Chances are if you are a parent or have had contact with children you are probably familiar with one of these:

Jackson this past week was quite congested.  I tried to use the "snot sucker" as we call it in our house on him.  He HATES that thing.  He squirms and cries and flails and cries some more.  As I try to hold him still I tell my precious son, "Stay still, this will help you.  I know you don't feel good, but you will feel better when I'm done, I promise.  It's for your own good." 

And sometimes God teaches me in weird moments.  This was one of those times.  With the plastic-bulb-looking-thing in hand I wondered: How often do I go through a particular situation that is uncomfortable and I fight God?  And all the while God is saying, "hold on, this is for your own good.  You will be better after this is done."

Maybe you are experiencing some discomfort--
Maybe you got passed over for the promotion at work
Maybe a person that annoys you suddenly decides they are your best friend
Maybe finances are tight
Maybe your health is less than optimal
Maybe you are lonely
or tired
or afraid

Yet all the while God is doing a work in you and on you. 
 

Romans 5:3-5

Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; ⁴ perseverance, character; and character, hope. ⁵ And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. 

Though it is not fun don't fight Him.  He knows what is best. 


Just like me and my snot sucker.