Tuesday, November 11, 2014

What You May Not Realize About People in Grief

 
 Image courtesy of Sira Anamwong at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
    A month ago my 20 year-old sister died suddenly and unexpectedly from complications of diabetes and heart disease. This has been one of the most difficult months of my life as I have only just begun to process my grief and I as learn to accept this new reality in which my sister is not here. One thing that I have learned is that when you experience a significant loss, grief sometimes seeps into every aspect of your life.
   Grief takes on many forms as you process it, or as it is more popularly stated, it has many stages. People who are dealing with loss typically go through these five stages: Denial and Isolation, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. I have written before on the all consuming anger of grief, but today I want to share some things about a person dealing with grief that you may not realize.
 
Sometimes they are just sad. I like to think of myself as a pretty happy person. I like to joke around and smile and laugh. Most of the time I have a positive and cheery demeanor about me. But since my sister's death, I have noticed that there are days when I am just sad. I don't smile as much, I don't laugh as easily, and I feel just down. Sometimes I don't realize right away why I am sad; it actually takes me a while to remember, oh yeah, my sister died. Sadness is just a part of the game when dealing with grief and asking a grieving person what's wrong is not helpful, because sometimes we don't know what's wrong. When you come across a grieving person who is sad, offering them a smile and hug and lifting a silent prayer goes a long way.

They feel guilty for not being sad. I have two amazing kids and a fantastic husband and pretty spectacular friends. In the past month I have taken my kiddos on field trips and trick-or-treating, I have been on amazing dates with my husband, and I have laughed and carried on with my friends. There have been some amazing moments in the past month that have brought me great joy. Those moments have joy have also brought me moments of guilt because in those moments I am not really missing my sister. I have had thoughts like, "how can I be so happy when my sister just died?" and "what kind of person am I for not missing my sister every moment?" I know that these are not healthy thoughts, and thankfully by God' grace, my guilt is normally short lived, but it is still there. People who are grieving are naturally going to feel guilt at times, it is just a part of the process. In those moments, remind them that the best way to honor their loved ones memory is to live life to the fullest and also that their joy does not in any way diminish their sadness.

Sometimes they just want to be alone. When someone you love is grieving, you want to help them in any way you can. You may think that they never need to be alone so that the sadness does not overwhelm them, but sometimes being alone in our grief is a good thing. There are times when the loss of my sister is a sharp sadness that knocks me backwards. On those days I don't want to be around a bunch of people and honestly I just want to stay in bed and hide from the world. I may be wrong, but I feel this is a healthy part of the grieving process. Being alone allows me to really feel my emotions without feeling like I have to put up a front for others. Understand that the desire to be alone is normal, and that unless it becomes an all day, everyday thing, people in grief to be given the space to be alone. When your loved one wants to be alone, let them, and pray hard for them, as they are more than likely dealing with heavy emotions.

Sometimes they just want a shoulder to cry on. Tears are a normal part of the grieving process and they should be allowed to flow freely and as often as necessary. When the tears are falling, we don't need words or advice or for you to fix it, we simply need for you to be there, offering a hug, a shoulder, and tissues. Crying is cathartic and not a sign that something is broken, it is simply a sign that someone is hurting.

They are more sensitive to criticism and arguments. My husband and I are both passionate, emotional, stubborn people and we do not always agree on everything. Our personalities lead to arguments and fights and stretches of silent passive aggressiveness. However, since my sister died, when my husband and I disagree, I don't get mad, I break down sobbing and have anxiety attacks. I am much more sensitive than I was a month ago. This is not to say that you should walk on egg shells around someone who is grieving or that you should not criticize them or get into arguments with them, just know that they may not respond as they normally would to those things. When I am breaking down emotionally, I don't care if my husband and I are in a fight, he is still the one I want holding me as I sob. Be sensitive to the emotional roller coaster we are feeling and love us through it.

Talking about what happened is not easy.  I have spoken about this a little in a previous blog post, but I want to touch on it again. People are naturally curious and when something tragic happens to someone they care about, they want to know details. It is not easy to talk about what happened to my sister. When I have to rehash the circumstances around her death, it is like reopening a wound. My suggestion is to not bring up what happened unless we do. This may not work for every grieving person, but it is what works for me. When I want to talk, I will, don't push the subject.

Don't be surprised that they are still upset. This one is subtle and you may not even realize that you are doing it. I have some friends that I see weekly and they ask me every week how I'm doing. I can see in their eyes that they want my answer to be, "I'm doing great," but that just isn't the case normally. I consider it a good day if I am doing ok. When I respond that I am just ok, these well meaning friends will become very concerned and hug me and ask me what they can do to help me. Grief is not a short process, so don't be surprised when weeks after the loss, we are still upset and having "ok" days. Remember that there is no timeline to grief and allow us to still be sad or upset.

    Grief is an ugly monster that cannot be rushed or worked through like a 5-step program. It is hard to watch someone you love work through grief and it can leave you feeling helpless. You may want to jump in and fix it or help them work through their grief effectively and quickly. but that is what we need. We need the chance to be in our grief and feel our emotions on our own timetable. The best thing you can do for someone in grief is to walk with them in their grief, love them, pray for them, and encourage them. It means so much when someone reminds me to not rush my grief or that it's ok to be sad because grief takes time.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Submitting Even When I Don't Want To

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Ephesians 5:22-23 - "Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior."

Colossians 3:1 - "Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord."

1 Peter 3:1-2 - "Likewise, wives, be subject to your own husbands, so that even if some do not obey the word, they may be won without a word by the conduct of their wives, when they see your respectful and pure conduct."

   Sometimes this command is very easy for me. When my husband wants to switch cell phone carriers, I have no problem submitting to his will. When my husband says that we should move our money to a different bank, I go with it because I trust him. When my husband feels called to a different job, I voice my concerns, but ultimately leave the decision to him because I know that he wants what is best for our family. Although my husband is a wonderful leader, there are times when submitting to his leadership is not easy.
    Submission becomes difficult when my husband's leading prevents me from doing something I want to do. It is a rare situation for me to want something that is in opposition to what my husband wants, we are usually on the same page, but there have been times in our 8 years of marriage when we have wanted different things and not seen eye to eye. It is times like these when I need the Holy Spirit more than ever to help me fight the flesh.
     My youngest sister died just a month ago and her death has hit my family hard. My other sister and I want to do something to honor our sister's memory, and we settled on getting tattoos. My youngest sister loved tattoos and we thought getting matching tattoos of one her tattoos would be a fitting and appropriate tribute. There is one problem, my husband does not like tattoos, in fact he has a major problem with tattoos. I know that my husband does not like tattoos, but I wanted so desperately to get one in memory of my sister that I asked for his permission. It was not easy for me to ask my husband to allow me to do this because I knew he would not be thrilled with it. My hope was that he would understand my motives and grant me this request. 
     However, though he has not flat out said "no," my husband has made his feelings about the tattoo clear and I cannot in good conscience get one. I want to so desperately, but I can't. I must ultimately submit to my husband, even though it means not doing something I want very much.
    I know there are many people who will find my choice to obey my husband difficult to swallow. They are probably thinking, "why shouldn't you get a tattoo if you want one, it's your body!" Through a secular worldview that may be true, it is my body, but I live with a Biblical worldview that says a wife's body belongs to her husband, just as a husband's body belongs to his wife. I can't get a tattoo because my body is not my own, it now belongs to my husband.
    Others may think that I am a brainless doormat who is incapable of making my own decisions, and that is not true. I am not submitting to my husband because I am a doormat and can't make my own choices, on the contrary I am making the choice to honor my husband and not do something I really want. When I got married I promised to submit myself to his leadership and I am not one to break my promise.
     Though I know why submitting to my husband is the right thing to do, that does not make this any easier. I still want a tattoo and I have at times over the past month nagged and pestered my husband to give me the answer I want. I want very much for him to say, "Hey babe, I know this means a lot to you, and although I don't really agree with it, I am still going to let you do it." But that just isn't how life works.
      I could be spiteful and get the tattoo anyway. At one point, my husband was so tired of me asking about the tattoo that he told me to just do what I wanted to do. I could have taken that answer and run off to get the tattoo, but where would that have left our relationship. My husband would have felt a lot of resentment towards me and every time he saw the tattoo he would feel angry and hurt and remember how I did something he didn't want. I have to think about what I want more, a tattoo or my husband to be pleased with me. 
      It is not easy to submit to my husband when I don't agree with it or when submitting means I can't do something I want. My selfish flesh wants what I want and no one can tell me what to do. However, I am no longer my own, but I am a child of God and my being God's child means I have a different expectation for how I should live. This does not mean that I am always joyful in my submission or that I don't express my disappointment to me husband. This also does not mean that I am completely giving up what I want to make my husband happy. I am still praying that he will one day change his mind. I have made my desires known to my husband and the conversations still continue.
    Being submissive is not always easy. I also imagine it is very hard to be in my husband's shoes, carrying the weight of all our families decisions and disappointing me at times. But I cannot speak from that perspective, I can only speak from mine, in the role of the submissive party. The world would tell me to stop letting my husband rule over me and to make my own decisions and live my own life, and that would be the easiest thing to do, although that mindset might also lead to me living my own life without my husband. *Disclaimer: I am not in any way claiming that my husband would leave me if I got a tattoo, however, if I lived selfishly for myself all the time and only did what I wanted and did not consider my husband's wishes, it could very well cause irreparable damage to our relationship.*
     I must remember that I am not called to live by the world's standards, but I am instead called to live by God's standards, and God's word is very clear. I am commanded to submit to my husband as the head of my family, plain and simple. That means that I am to trust him to make the right choices for our family. It also means that even when I don't want to, I am to submit to his wishes. I don't have to like it and I am not called to be silent when there is something I want. I am well within my role as a godly wife to make my desires known to my husband and to plead with him to see my point of view, but in the end I am called to submit to his leading. 
    I don't want to submit to my husband all the time, but I choose to do it anyway. Apart from my relationship with God, the relationship I have with my husband is the most important one in my life. We are called to live out an earthly example of Christ and the church, and just as the church submits to Christ, I must submit to my husband. Yes, I want to do all the things I want to do, but I want a good relationship with my husband more, even if that means sacrificing my desires for him.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

All Consuming Anger in Grief

 
Image courtesy of Naypong at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

   Since October 7, 2014 I have been dealing with grief. It was on this day that I learned my 20 year old sister had died as a result of complications from diabetes and heart disease. Grief has become a permanent resident in my heart.
     As I’m sure you know there are 5 stages of grief: Denial and Isolation, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. We are told that everyone deals with grief differently and that these stages can’t be worked through like a checklist. There is no pre-determined order which you go through the stages and you never know how long each stage will last. And just because you have experienced a stage of grief, doesn’t mean that you are done with that stage forever. On the contrary, most of the time you find yourself bouncing back and forth between stages.
     I am not a stranger to grief and loss. I have dealt with significant loss every couple of years since I was in middle school. I have been caught off guard by loss and I have been prepared for it. I have felt the sting of someone choosing to end his life and felt the unexplainable joy when someone’s fighting and long suffering is finally over. Loss and grief and I know each other well.
     However, none of my experiences prepared me for that Tuesday evening when I received the call that my sister had been found dead in her apartment. I was not prepared for just how much this loss would affect my life. I was also not prepared for how all consuming my anger would become.
   When I first found out about my sister, while I was devastated, I also had a great peace from knowing that God was in control and that God was still good even in the midst of my suffering. I remember telling my husband and friends that this was the first time I could honestly say that I was not angry at God for what happened. That is still true. I still believe and take comfort in God’s sovereignty and goodness and I can honestly say that I am not really mad at God, but I am still very angry.
     I am angry at my sister. Her death was completely preventable. My sister had Type 1 diabetes and she did not manage her diabetes at all. She would not check her sugar regularly and she did not give herself her insulin shots like she was supposed to. We found out that she actually skipped an endocrinology appointment just 3 days before she died. Had she gone to the doctor, she most likely would not have died.
     I am angry at myself. My sister and I did not have a good relationship. She had only been my sister officially for three years, my parents adopted her when she was 17. The three years since my sister’s adoption were not easy and I watched from afar as she treated my parents horribly and made really poor decisions, and because of her behavior I kept my distance. It was easy because I was the oldest sibling, I had my own family to consume my time, and I lived in an entirely different state. It wasn't until earlier this year that I actually began to feel a burden for my sister and have a desire for a better relationship. I did reach out to her on a few occasions, but I could have done more. I could have treated her with more grace and compassion. I could have made more of an effort.
     I am angry at people who are not grieving the same way I am. Many people were affected by my sister’s death and they are all processing this loss in a different way. At times I find myself angry and annoyed because they are not dealing with everything the same way and they need different things than I do.
     I am angry at people who I don’t think should be as affected by my sister’s death as they are. I can be really selfish at times and I find myself thinking that other people do not deserve to feel grief because they did not have what I believe is a real relationship with my sister. It’s ugly and not cool, but it’s true.
     I am angry at people who know what happened and want to talk. I am a member of a great church and my husband works on a seminary campus and we have felt a great outpouring of love and support ever since we heard the news about my sister. While it is wonderful and comforting to know that so many people care about me, it can also be difficult at times because it feels like EVERYONE knows. People are naturally curious and they want the details about what happened or they have true, heartfelt concern for how I’m doing so they ask me often how I am. When I am not in the mood to talk, I find myself very angry at anyone who wants to help me “talk it out.”
     I am angry at people who don’t know what happened. On my bad days I am not always nice to people, and when someone makes a joking comment about how I should be more gracious and loving, I want to burst their bubble and scream at them, “Hey, my sister just died, so shove it!” It is awkward and weird to tell people your sister died and it never comes up naturally in conversation. Sometimes I find myself getting angry because the world kept spinning and there was not some global announcement informing everyone that our family was just devastated and ripped wide open.
     Want to know the worst part about my anger? I get that it is completely irrational and contradictory. It is like I am having an out of body experience where I can see how crazy I am acting and there is nothing I can do about it. When my anger becomes all consuming, I find myself slipping into depression because I feel like I am completely out of control. Then I get angry at myself for being angry and depressed. It is a vicious cycle and on my bad days I just want to curl up in bed and ignore the rest of the world. I feel horrible when I lash out at my family or friends. I don’t want to be as angry as I am, but unfortunately it is not as easy as simply choosing to not be angry.
     So why did I write this? Honestly, I’m not totally sure. Partly I think it was a cathartic experience for me. I tend to bottle up my feelings so writing them down and sharing them with the world is helpful. Maybe, I also wanted there to be an explanation out there for my bad days. I wanted there to be documentation for those people that I lash out at, that I don’t mean to be so angry and I am trying. And maybe I just wanted to let those people out there who are consumed by the anger stage of grief to know you are not alone, because at times it can feel very isolating.
     What about those of you who love someone consumed by anger in grief? What can you do to help those of us who just get so angry? I’m not sure. I wish I had some magic cure for the anger or special trigger words that would instantly change our feelings, but I don’t. Here are some things that I think may help.

-          Be patient. I know this is hard, and there is a difference in being patient and allowing a person to be out of control. Remember that grief affects everyone differently and lasts longer for some people.

-          Love them. It helps so much knowing how much my husband and kids love me. I can tell my husband that I am having a bad day and he hugs me and tells me it’s ok. I can tell my kids that mommy is not really angry at them, she just misses Aunt Lyn, and they give me a hug and tell me it’s ok. In their love and grace is healing.

-          Let them vent. I vent a lot to my husband and my other sister. It helps to just say what is making me angry out loud. I don’t need them to give me a “fix” for the issue and a lot of times I don’t even really need them to say anything, I just need to be given the time and space to say what is weighing on my mind. I also love my husband for the fact that he allows me to vent whenever I need to. If it is lying in bed at midnight or talking to him through the bathroom door while he gets ready for work or even calling him in the middle of his workday, he allows me the opportunity to talk and vent.

-          When necessary, lovingly correct them. This one is hard and will not always be well received, but it is at times very necessary. My husband just yesterday had to lovingly correct me on my anger. I was entering into dangerous territory of getting angry at someone for doing something that I myself was doing. I was no longer just venting and instead was beginning to harbor unnecessary anger. While it was painful and it made me cry, I needed to hear what my husband was saying and he was right. I think that correction for those of us who are angry needs to come from someone we love and trust and that the correction needs to be accompanied by lots of grace.

-          Pray! Pray for your loved ones, pray with your loved ones, pray over your loved ones. I know that I am not going to overcome this anger by myself or even with the help of family and friends. The only way I am going to be able to move on from the all consuming in anger is through Jesus Christ. Only he can give me the strength and the power to defeat this!


     I take hope in knowing that one day my grief will become an easier burden to bear. I know that I will never be the same, but through the work of Jesus there will come a day when my anger will no longer be all consuming. 

Monday, October 13, 2014

When My World Falls Apart, God Is Still on the Throne

  God is good, even in the midst of tragedy and suffering. This truth has become real to me in a profound way this week. God is never taken by surprise. This truth has brought me unbelievable comfort over the past few days.
    On Tuesday evening I heard the devastating news that my youngest sister had died. My sister, Lyn, was only 20 years old. Lyn suffered from Type 1 Diabetes and heart disease along with several other medical conditions. Her death was the result of complications from these things.
The last time we were all together: Mandy, me, and Lyn.
   This week I have felt a wide range of emotions.
   I have felt devastation as I sobbed in the car after hearing the news. My sister was so young and her death was preventable.
   I have felt helpless in the wake of her death when I could not be with my family immediately. I live 6 hours away in another state and much of the responsibilities fell to my dad and middle sister, Mandy.
   I have felt deep sadness. My relationship with Lyn was strained and distant. We had spoken only a few times in the past months and I had not seen her since Christmas. I am saddened that the reconciliation that I had prayed for will never happen.
   I have felt sickening heartache. When I think about all the things that my sister will not get to do, get engaged, get married, have kids, etc, my heart simply breaks. When I think about her final days on this earth, very sick and alone and most likely scared, I am grieved beyond words. 
   I have felt anger. I am angry at my sister for not taking better care of herself. I am angry at myself for not reaching out to her more and for not being more gracious towards her. I am angry at the seemingly unfairness of it all. I am angry at people who are insensitive to our family's grief.
    I have felt overwhelmed. Today, my first day back home since my sister's death, has been incredibly overwhelming. It is becoming real as I see firsthand that the world has not stopped turning. Honestly, I did not want to get out of bed today. Facing the world has seemed just too much.
    My emotions are all over the place, as you can see, but I take great comfort in knowing that God is still seated on the throne while my world seems to be falling apart. 
    This is not the first death that has rocked my world, and I know that it will not be the last, but I can honestly say that this is the first time I have not been angry at God. This is the first time that I have had peace underneath all my other emotions. This is the first time that the knowledge of God being in control and not surprised has actually brought me comfort.
    My sister's death was sudden and none of us were prepared for it. We were surprised, but God was not. Before the beginning of time, God ordained the exact moment when my sister would die, and while he hurt with my family, he was not surprised by her death. God is still sovereign and in control and there is amazing comfort in that fact. I don't understand why God chose last Monday to be Lyn's final day on this earth, but I don't need to understand. I know that this all works to his glory and is all part of his plan.
   My world may feel as if it is falling apart, but God is still on his throne. This did not catch him off guard or throw him for a loop. He is not scrambling around trying to come up with a Plan B. God is in control and nothing has happened apart from his knowledge or his ordination. That is the greatest comfort of all.




   Pray for my family as we face life without Lyn. She takes a part of us with her and we will never be the same. I am forever thankful for the years she was my sister and I will miss her every day.

    
   

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Fighting the Desire to Have Good Kids

  I am a lucky woman. Actually, no I am blessed beyond what I deserve. It blows me away that God would choose a mess-up like me to be responsible for the lives of two little people. I am thankful everyday that I get to be "Mom" to these two precious kiddos.


   And while I would not change a single moment of the past six years, I will be honest in saying that life is not always easy with these two. Yes, they are cute and precious and smart and wonderful, but they are also whiny and manipulative and stubborn and disobedient. In other words, my kids are sinful. Just like me.
    We all have those days. You know the ones I'm talking about. The days that start out wrong and never straighten out. In case you are the rare unicorn who has perfect children that never experience bad days, let me paint a picture for you.
    Both children are awake and oh so cranky before 7 AM, even though they did not go to bed until almost 10 PM the night before because community group ran long. They are crying and falling apart because you don't fix drinks fast enough, you aren't changing their wet clothes fast enough, they don't get to sit beside you on the couch, the sun is yellow, etc. Your two kids, who can at times be the best of playmates, cannot get along to save their lives. They are arguing over the television, seats on the couch, toys, books, air, you name it. No one wants to eat breakfast. No one wants to brush their teeth. No one wants to do their school work. By 10 AM, they have each been in time out in their beds at least twice. Finally school is done and it is time to get ready for storytime at the library, one of the kids favorite activities during the week. You  tell your kids to get dressed and you take the dog out, get dressed yourself, brush your teeth, etc. You walk into the living room 15 minutes later to see your kids lying on the couch still in their pajamas. It is at this point you become a raving lunatic and start screaming at your kids which of course leads to them crying. And all of this before lunch.
   Days like these are the days when I find myself expecting my kids to be good simply for the sake of being good. I find myself screaming at them, why don't you just obey? You know what to do, do it! Be good! Be good! Be good! You are failing, do better.
    I forget so often that my kids are sinners in need of the saving grace of Jesus, just like me. I have the desire for my kids to be well-behaved super children who never disobey and are always polite and gracious. I want to be the mom who is complimented in the store for how awesome my kids are. Instead, I am the mom who gets the sympathetic (or judgmental) looks because my 4 year old is on the floor melting down in the costume aisle because I don't have $20 to spend on a Rapunzel costume.
     Growing up, it was ingrained in me to be good. I was taught that I should be good and obedient to please God. I was taught morality and because of that I always felt as if it was up to me to EARN God's favor. There was a list of things I should do and if I did them I was good. Being a Christian became synonymous with being good. If I wasn't doing the things on the list then I wasn't really saved. My salvation, while it came from God, was still greatly dependent upon my performance.
     Surprisingly enough, I failed all the time and thus never felt good enough for God. No one really taught me that I was NEVER GOOD ENOUGH for God. I was not shown that God saved me by his grace alone, not because of what I did or some untapped potential in me, he saved me simply because he loved me. It took me a long time to realize that it was not up to me to earn my salvation in any way. I could never be good enough to be accepted by God. I was saved by grace and grace alone. God did  all the work and I had no part to play in my salvation. I obey God, not because it makes him happy, but because I love him because he first loved me. My obedience is an act of love, not a performance.
     As I am learning this truth for myself, I am desperate for my children to learn it as well. I don't want to watch my kids struggle to be good enough for God. I don't want my kids to carry the weight of failures when they can't measure up to some unrealistic standard. I want my kids to know from the very beginning that their salvation is not dependent on them or anything they do; their salvation was fought for and won by Jesus' life and death on the cross. I want my kids to see their need for Jesus from their earliest days.
    My struggle comes in the balance. I do want my kids to understand that they are sinners who need Jesus, but I also want my kids to obey me to keep peace in our home. I don't feel the desire to have obedient, respectful kids is wrong, but my problem is that sometimes that's all I want from my kids. I don't always point out sin to my kids. I don't always pray with my kids that God will help them overcome their sin. Sometimes I expect perfect obedience, discipline when that does not happen and repeat the cycle.
    On the other end of that spectrum, sometimes I do take the time to point out sin to my kids, but I don't point them to the cross. I realize that I am really good at focusing on my kids sin and depravity, but not so good at pointing them to the grace of the cross. I tell them I forgive them, but I don't remind them that God forgives and loves them too. I am quick to show my kids their need for something more, but I don't always show them that what they need is Jesus.
     As a parent, I experience God's grace abundantly. I fail my kids so often, and yet they always love me and are quick to forgive and forget my screw-ups. My kids melt my heart every day and teach me the pure innocence of unconditional love.
      This post has been cathartic and convicting all at the same time, but I don't want to leave it at that. I want to share some of the things that we do with our kids to be intentional about showing them grace and their need for Jesus. I don't present these as a step-by-step checklist to better kids. I also don't present them as things that I am always consistent at doing. Finally, I also do not present these as, "hey look at me and how awesome I am, I finally figured it out." Hopefully you saw the truth in this post that I fail A LOT! I present these things because I don't want to just point out the problem and leave it at that. I want to share some practical solutions that can help us.

1. Instill in your kids that you love them no matter what.
    If there is one thing that I feel I have gotten right with my kids, it's that they know I love them, even when I'm angry. My daughter will look at me and say, "who are you mad at Mommy?" Sometimes I will tell  her I am mad at her or her brother and tell her why. She will then look at me and, "but you still love us even when your mad, right?" I have said that phrase many times over the past 4-6 years, depending on which kid you are talking to. I have also shown my love to my kids enough, that they are confident of my love even when I am screaming at them or sending them to their room. My kids know that they do not have to earn my love, but that they have it simply because they are my kids.

2. Show your kids grace.
   At our house we don't do Santa at Christmas. We have told our kids that we don't believe in Santa because there is not a strange man who drops off presents for them because they are good. The presents they receive on Christmas morning come from Mommy and Daddy because we love them and we want to give them gifts. We show them grace in that. Sometimes I will buy my kids something at the store or take them on an outing, even when they are not behaving. When I do those things, I tell them, "I am giving you grace. You don't deserve this toy or to go to the museum, but I love you and I am doing it anyway. You did not earn it, I am showing you grace." The first few times I did this, I felt so awkward and pompous, but now I see how important it is. I want my kids to begin to understand that grace is something we receive when we don't deserve it. You cannot work for and earn grace. Sometimes grace is given when we LEAST deserve it. I whole-heartedly believe that by showing my kids grace (and explicitly telling them it's grace), I am helping to prepare their hearts to receive God's grace.

3. Share the truths of Scripture with your kids.
    We began homeschool this year with our kids and one of the things we do every morning is go through a catechism question and memory verse from the North Star Catechism. We are teaching our kids spiritual truths that they can memorize and stand on. My kids are learning important aspects of our Christian faith. They are memorizing Scripture. We are building disciplines in them they will help to sanctify them (not save them) later. I love that my kids know that God exists forever as three persons, God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. My kids know that no one is truly good except God. They may not fully understand the truths now, but they are learning them.

4. Finally, point to Jesus as much as possible.
    I am working on doing a better job of pointing my kids to Jesus as much as possible. When we read our Old Testament Bible stories at night, my husband and I are quick to point out Jesus. We emphasize that the great feats in the Bible (Joshua and the battle of Jericho, David and Goliath, Daniel in the Lion's Den) are accomplished solely by the work of God. These events did not happen because the men were good or obedient or faithful. They happened because God willed them to. We also make sure that God stays the main character of all the Bible stories we read. We don't want our kids to think that the main character of David and Goliath is David, and that they should be courageous like David. No, the main character is God, they should be learning what the story teaches them about God.

  A big difference in teaching morality and teaching grace, is looking at who the main character is. Take the Ten Commandments. Morality says to kids obey the Ten Commandments because THEY need to be good so THEY can make God happy. Grace teaches kids that the Ten Commandments were given to us by God as guidelines to show us that we can never measure up, so God gave us Jesus to save us and make us righteous even when we fail to meet the standard. Do you see the difference? Morality makes you and me and our kids the main character, where Grace keeps God in the center as he should be.

   Let's commit to pray for each other that we will not simply desire to have good kids, but that we will desire to have kids saved by grace!

Thursday, September 11, 2014

God's Gracious Gift of Sophia Joelle

   It is hard to believe that 4 years (and about 5 hours) ago today I looked upon the face of my Pretty Girl for the first time!


My first real glimpse of our Pretty Girl

Oh my that face!

   Some of you may have read my son's birth story on his birthday two months ago, and today I want to share my sweet girl's birth story. Those of you who have read Eli's birth story know that it was a very difficult and traumatic experience for all of us. Aaron and I believed that we were done having children after Eli and that we would simply adopt from that point on. However, God, as he always does, knew better.
    In August of 2009 we  moved to Louisville, KY so my husband could begin seminary. It was a difficult transition, I did not get a job until February of 2010 and we were without health insurance for much of this time. While my husband and I took precautions, in January of 2010 we found out that I was pregnant for the second time.
    I wish I could say that I was filled with joy the day I took the pregnancy test, but I am sad to say I was not. We were struggling financially and I was terrified that Aaron would be mad. I was scared that we would not be able to provide for this new life. And mostly I was scared that I would experience another traumatic birth.
    My pregnancy with Sophia was anything but easy. Within just a few weeks of finding out I was pregnant, I began to have some spotting and was afraid I was having a miscarriage. I felt so guilty because I felt like I was being punished for not being happy about my pregnancy. 
    I am Rh-negative, which means my blood does not have the Rh antigen. My husband's blood does possess the Rh antigen so our children also have the Rh antigen. Since I am Rh-negative, there is a risk that when the baby's blood and my blood mix together, which often happens, my body will treat the baby as if I am allergic to the baby and create antibodies. In subsequent pregnancies, those antibodies can actually cross the placenta and attack the baby. To help keep this from happening I have to have a Rhogam shot halfway through each pregnancy and again after each baby is born. It also means that I have to have a Rhogam shot after any miscarriages.
    Because of my blood type, I had to go to the emergency room when I began spotting so they could give me the Rhogam shot in case I was miscarrying. That was a very long and lonely day. There was not much that could be done, so they gave me a shot, told me to follow up with a OB-GYN in a week, and sent me home. We spent the next week in limbo waiting to see if we were going to actually have another baby.
     However, God showed us tremendous grace and a week later I got to see my baby's heartbeat for the first time. I wish I could say that it was all smooth sailing from there, but it was not. I found out during labor that I had a lot of amniotic fluid, more than normal, and which had caused my belly to grow very quickly and to be quite large during my pregnancy. My stomach was so big that it was painful to walk around and I felt like my skin was tearing for many weeks. During my pregnancy I also had to be hospitalized because I caught a stomach bug and became severely dehydrated. 
    This pregnancy took quite a toll on my body and Aaron and I made the decision that I would have my tubes tied once Sophia was born. It was not a decision we came to lightly, and it was one that some may judge, but we knew it was the right decision for our family.
    The day Sophia was born was quite an eventful day. I started having contractions on Thursday night, but by Friday morning they had basically stopped. Friday morning Aaron and I went to run some errands because we were moving into our new house the next day, Saturday September 11th. I had a total of two contractions all morning Friday, so Aaron went to work as normal that afternoon. Not long after Aaron left for work I started having regular contractions and after an hour I called Aaron at work and told him he needed to come home.
     Around 7 pm Aaron and I headed to the hospital after I had a contraction that lasted over 2 minutes. We were admitted, I was given a wonderful epidural, and then we began the waiting game. At 2:30 a.m. I was told that it was time to push. However, I was only able to push one time before the doctor said "Stop!" We had lost Sophia's heartbeat because of the stress, so I had to sit up and wait. Thirty minutes later I attempted to push again, but the same thing happened. Over the next two hours, I would push once every 30 minutes and be told to stop. Finally, at 4:30 am I was able to push and twenty minutes later, at 4:51 am, our daughter was out in the world.
     While I held my daughter, the doctors struggled to remove my placenta. It was a very long and difficult process and I was told AFTER the fact that everyone was worried that I would have to be taken into the OR to have it removed. Aaron and I knew something was wrong throughout the entire delivery process, you could feel the tension among the medical staff, but no one really communicated anything to us.
    Finally, labor was completely done and all the doctors and nurses left the room. Aaron and my dad left around 6 am to go get a little sleep before friends would be at our apartment to help us move. It would be 8 pm, almost 16 hours later, before Aaron would actually get to hold his daughter for the first time. (The hospital where Sophia was born does Kangaroo Care, which means I held Sophia skin to skin for the first few hours after she was born. That meant Aaron was not allowed to hold her before he had to leave.)
    A few days later we brought home our beautiful baby girl and now here we are 4 years later.
4 years of Princess Sophia!
    It is hard to imagine our family without Sophia in it. I thought that our family was complete when our son was born, but God knew that we needed Sophia. Sophia is spunky and sassy and highly emotional. You never have to guess what Sophia is feeling because she will show you. Sophia is imaginative and creative and really intelligent. She balances out our family. She is our Pretty Girl and I would not trade her for anything in the world.
     As she gets older, she will want to know the story of her birth, and for a long time I struggled with what I would say to her. Would I tell her that she was unplanned or that I wasn't always happy about being pregnant? Over the years I realized that Sophia's birth story is not about me and it's not even about her, it is about a gracious and sovereign God who saw fit to make us the parents of such a precious girl. When she wants to know the story of her birth, I will tell her about how God is so good and how undeserving I was to be her mom, but God gave her to me as a gift anyway. I will tell her of how God protected her from her earliest moments and he is still protecting her today. I will tell her of how she makes our family whole and without her, parts of all of us would still be missing. I will tell her that she is loved, not only by us, but by her perfect Heavenly Father.

Happy Birthday to our Pretty Girl, our Sweet, Sassy, Crazy Princess Sophia!

Friday, August 22, 2014

Our Adoption Story Begins Today!

    Ten years ago when Aaron and I first started dating and talking about having a future together, we knew that adoption was going to be a part of our story.
    In late 2007, after a year of marriage, we found out that we were expecting our first child. We were so excited. My pregnancy was textbook and everything went as planned, until the day of delivery. My delivery was far from textbook and we had many complications. Eli even spent 12 hours in NICU after he was born. It was a frightening and traumatic experience, one that I really did not want to go through again. In my mind, I was done having children.
    But God knew better and in late 2009, Aaron and I found out we were expecting again. My pregnancy with Sophia was far from easy and we made the decision that after I gave birth, I would have my tubes tied. We almost lost Sophia early on in the pregnancy and my labor and delivery was very difficult. Sophia was under a lot of stress and we kept losing her heartbeat. I also experienced some complications post-delivery, and then that afternoon, my tubes were tied.
     Having my tubes tied was not a decision that Aaron and I came to lightly. We thought long and hard and prayed even longer and harder, but in the end we were at peace with our decision. As we consider both of my previous pregnancies and deliveries, we honestly believed that we would not make it through another pregnancy.
      The decision to have my tubes tied did not mean Aaron and I did not want more children, it simply meant that we did not want to be pregnant again. Over the past few years, since the birth of our daughter, we  have talked about adoption many times, but it was always something for the future. We watched as my sister and her husband adopted their first son and then later as my parents adopted my youngest sister. Our extended family was growing through adoption and we were just waiting for our time.
      Earlier this summer, Aaron told me that he was ready for another child. This confession sparked many conversations and we realized that we wanted to start really planning to adopt. Our goal is to be in a place that we can start the paperwork no later than next summer (2015). Aaron and I began doing research and making plans.
      As most people know, adoption can be an expensive endeavor and we want to begin raising the funds for that now. We need to cover the adoption fees along with preparing our house for home studies (this includes finishing the remodel in our daughter's room and purchasing at least one more twin bed) and we also need to purchase a larger vehicle as my Vibe will not be able to fit 3 kids comfortably in the backseat. Aaron and I believe that we will need about $30,000 to cover all of these costs.
      So this is where all of the people out in the world can come in! We have set up a Facebook page to share all of our fundraising endeavors. You can find the page at:  https://www.facebook.com/helpthetantsadopt. We have also set up a Go Fund Me page which can be found at: http://www.gofundme.com/ddh5wc.
      Finally we have started our first official fundraiser. We are selling boxes of hand-crafted greeting cards through Cards for a Cause. Each box costs $30 and contains 30 cards (that's only $1 a card). $13 of every box sold will go directly into our adoption fund. There are three box options, 2 all occasion boxes and 1 kids box.
     If you would like to order a box of greeting cards, you can do so through my PayPal account.


Box Choices

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

I was in the paper!

Something really cool happened over the last few weeks. As many of you know I published my first novel a little over a month ago and many people back in my hometown of Williamston, NC were very excited for me. Many of those people ordered copies of my book before it was even available on Amazon. I was very flattered and grateful for all of their support. One of these people was a good friend of my mom's and after she read the book, she suggested that the local newspaper should do an article about me and my novel.

This friend, Bertie Hardison, put me in contact with someone at the newspaper, who then connected me with the lady who wrote the article, Brenda Monty. Brenda and I spent the next several days emailing back and forth. Last Friday, the article was in the paper and it is much more than I expected. Brenda sent me a copy of the article and I wanted to share it with all of you, since I'm sure most of you don't subscribe to The Enterprise & Weekly Herald in Williamston, NC.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Elias Brendan Turns 6!

Yesterday was a big day in our home as our son, our first-born, turned 6! I kept thinking all day about how quickly six years can fly by.


As the day of our son's birthday approached, I kept thinking back to that Monday morning six years ago when my husband and I headed to the hospital in Sanford, NC at 6 am so that I could be induced. It was a beautiful summer day and I was so nervous as this was my first child.
At the hospital they started the pitocin and after a couple of hours broke my water. The contractions were non-stop and very intense, so I was given an epidural to help deal with the pain. It wasn't long after the epidural was administered that I fell asleep, and I slept most of the day.
A little before 6 pm I stopped dilating and was stuck just shy of the needed 10 cm to begin pushing. My wonderful midwife came in and helped me to force my body to dilate that final half a centimeter. It was around this time that things took a bad turn.
I pushed for the next two hours and our little boy just would not cooperate. The midwife said that she saw his head many times, but that he kept retreating back down the birth canal. My husband and I had created a birth plan and we did not want to use the vacuum or the forceps for fear of complications. However after two hours of pushing I was physically exhausted and the midwife began to gently suggest the possibility of needing to use something to help get Eli out.
My husband and I drug our heels for a little while, but eventually we realized that if we wanted our son to be born soon, we would have to let our midwife use the vacuum to get him out of the birth canal. I looked into the face of the woman that I trusted with my son's life and gave permission for her to use the vacuum. It was only a couple pushes later and our beautiful baby boy emerged into the world.
It was at this time that we realized exactly what had been going on as the room of medical professionals became very serious. The umbilical cord had a knot in it and it had been wrapped around our son's neck, plus there was meconium present, so there was a worry that some may have entered into his lungs. I saw the top of my son's head as they quickly whisked him out of the labor and delivery room and down the hall to the NICU.
While my midwife stitched me up, she talked with us about all that was happening. She explained that the reason our son kept retreating down the birth canal was because he was choking. Had we waited much longer to use the vacuum, our story may not have ended so well. The midwife called him our miracle baby many times over the next few hours as she cared for me and even prayed with my family.
It was another two hours before I would actually see and touch my son as he lay under an oxygen helmet, which my father-in-law nicknamed the Storm Trooper Helmet, in the NICU.
Daddy Keeping Watch

Daddy and Eli together for the first time

Momma's first time seeing Eli

Sweet Eli
 That night was one of the most beautiful and terrifying nights of my life. I was so amazed that my body was capable of creating such a perfect and beautiful life. I was also terrified as I thought of how close we came to losing this precious boy.
It would be twelve hours before my husband and I would actually be allowed to hold our son in our arms. I found it very difficult over the next few days to put my son down.
Every year as I watch my healthy boy grow bigger and stronger and I can't help but think back to the day of his birth when his fragile existence almost ended. I am thankful every day for my son and that he has had no repercussions from his birth experience.
Our God is great and good and that has never been more evident to me than on July 21st, 2008 when my son Elias Brendan Tant was born!

Friday, July 4, 2014

My First Novel is DONE!

This post is going to be quick and dirty. About two years ago I began writing my first novel. I let fear get the best of me and quit writing at one point, but this year I finally made the decision that I was going to write my novel and self-publish it.

Pursuant Love is a Christian fiction story about a girl named Maggie. It follows Maggie through many years and it is her salvation story. I am proud of this work and I hope that someone will read it and realize just how much God loves her.



My book is currently available on Nook and Kindle.

I am also working on publishing physical copies that are available for pre-order right here on the blog. You can even choose to have your copy autographed by yours truly!


Autographed Copy

This is a big moment for me and I want to share it with all of you. This also explains where I have been for the past couple of months.

If you do read my book, will you consider leaving a review on the site you purchased it from?

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Happy Birthday Baby!

   Bare with me because today is going to be a sappy post. You see today is a special day at our house. Today we celebrate the birth of my hubby, Aaron.


    I love this man with all that is in me. He is my best friend, my biggest encourager, the one who keeps me warm on cold nights, the one who can always make me laugh, and the most amazing husband and father a girl could ask for. I love when May 28th rolls around each year because I get to celebrate the day this man first entered the world!
Wasn't he the cutest!!

     There is this song by Steven Curtis Chapman titled "11-6-64" that I always think of on Aaron's birthday.




   I am 9 months older than Aaron and I like to think that on May 28, 1983, even though I was only 9 months old, that my coos were sweeter and that I smiled more and was generally happier because my other half was born.
  Aaron doesn't generally get excited about birthdays, but I always do. My mom made a big deal out of birthdays every year, heck she still does, and I get it from her. I love shopping for the perfect gift and I get so excited that I can hardly wait for the actual day to come around. This year the kids are just as excited as I am about Aaron's birthday. They helped me pick out his birthday present and have done such a great job of keeping it secret. My son has been counting down to Aaron's birthday for over a week and telling his dad everyday how many days are left. This morning, both kids were sad because daddy had already left for work, so we called him just so they could tell him "Happy Birthday." My son must think today is a national holiday because he keeps asking to stay home from school. Needless to say, we are all very excited to celebrate the birth of the most important man in our lives.
   I have had the amazing privilege of celebrating 9 birthdays with this man. It has been amazing to watch him grow and mature. When we first met, we were both fairly young and definitely had no idea what it really meant to be grown ups. I have watched him grow into his role as a husband and a father. He is the kind of dad who will pause whatever he is watching to look at his son's latest Lego creation or read a princess book to his daughter. He is the kind of dad who teaches his kids about the important things in life: Star Wars, Bon Jovi, and Legos. He is the kind of husband who always finds a way to touch me when he passes by me or will watch an incredibly sappy movie simply because it will make me happy. He is the kind of husband who listens to my latest story idea, even though he has no interest in Christian fiction, and who is going to make a 6 hour drive this summer to take me to Turner Field for a Braves game because I have always wanted to go. Aaron is steady and sensitive and a clown and I love him very much!
  Happy Birthday to my favorite person, my best friend, my lover, and my other half. I am so thankful that you were born!!


Monday, May 19, 2014

A Dream Becomes Reality

  When I was young I used to dream of becoming a published author. It was a secret dream, one that I did not share with anyone really. I honestly did not believe that this dream would ever come true. It was simply a fun dream that I kept deep in my heart.
  Until Jon Acuff wrote a book about following your dreams and started an online community of other dreamers where we could hustle together on our dreams and offer each other support and encouragement. I joined the group still not wanting to give voice to my real dream. At first, I simply worked on my blog and pretended that being a blogger was my dream. I was fooling myself.
   Finally at the end of February I decided that I was going to write a book. So I spent a few weeks planning, researching and writing my book. It didn't take long before I had my first draft completed. My book was not long, but it said all I wanted it to say. I found people to edit the book, I gave copies to friends and family to read, and then it sat in a folder on my computer's desktop for over a month.
   Then last week my husband and I attended a seminar about how to self-publish your book. After the seminar I did some research online and found the medium I wanted to use to self-publish. I spent the next week re-reading, re-editing, and formatting my book. Then on Friday I finally submitted my book for publishing. On Saturday morning, I awoke to a wonderful email telling that my book was now live and available in the Kindle store.
  I am officially a published author! My dream is now a reality! While I know that my book is not going to be a New York  Bestseller, but I am proud of it. Now that my first book is published, I have the motivation to keep writing. In fact, I am currently working on my first novel!
  I hope that you will take time to check out my book (it's only $0.99) and if you do check it out, please leave a review and let me know what you think!
 


Monday, May 12, 2014

Bird's Nests, Fear, Provisions, and Trust

    Last week was absolutely crazy at our house. Early in the week I began hearing what sounded like birds chirping in our attic, but I really only heard it in the mornings and when I would go upstairs to investigate, the chirping kind of stopped. On Wednesday evening, I mentioned it to my husband and we both heard a little chirping before we put our son to bed, but didn't think much of it.
    Thursday morning, I sat down in the living room and heard what sounded like something falling behind the curtain on the office window. Thinking my 3 year old daughter had been playing in there and left something on the window sill, I sent her in to see what it was. The next thing I know my precious daughter comes running back to the couch screaming, "It's a bird! It's a bird!" (I know Mom of the Year Award goes to me).
     My first thought was to get the kids out of the house and then go get my neighbor to help me. We started to go out the front door and the bird started flying towards us, so out the back door we went. My neighbor was not home, so I called my husband who was able to leave work an hour later to come home and deal with the bird situation.
      We discovered that afternoon that we not only had a bird in house, we had a FAMILY of birds in our attic.To give a little explanation, our home has a finished attic with two rooms, which are perfect for our kids bedrooms. My son's room has been completely remodeled, but my daughter's room has only been demoed, which means there are no walls and the birds were able to freely move about the room. My husband and I even got to watch one of the baby birds hop around the room before hopping back to the nest. We knew then that this was more than we could handle.
       I like to think that my husband and I are pretty humane people, so we knew we did not want to kill the birds. We called around to several animal removal places for assistance. Pretty much everyone we called could not come out until the following day, which was worrisome to say the least, but we finally found one guy who was willing to come out late that afternoon.
      The wonderful man came out to our house and did a thorough inspection identifying 3 or 4 holes in the exterior of our home through which all sorts of fun wild life could enter. The guy told us that he would be able to remove the birds and the nest, fix up the holes (although not until the next week) and spray a special cleaner that would get rid of any germs the birds might have brought in along with taking care of the bird mites that had begun to form. This was exactly the assurance we needed, until he informed us of that all of this would cost us just $2 shy of $1000.
      I am not ashamed to say that I felt physically ill at that point. We did not have an extra $1000 lying around, heck we did not have $1000 at all. Thankfully we were able to split it up into 2 payments, paying half that day and the rest when the job was done. We knew that we had to at least get the birds out and the mites taken care of that day and we agreed to deal with the holes in the house for a week until we could get paid and get the guy back out to the house.
     Later that evening, I made the comment about going to the store to pick up a few things when my husband informed me that there was no money. He had already paid several bills that morning and the $500 we had to pay for the bird removal would completely wipe out our bank account. As I stood in our kitchen staring at our very empty shelves, fear set in. I took a silent inventory of the food we had in the house: a partial box of rice, a box of mac and cheese, a can of corn and two cans of whole potatoes, a box of cereal, some chicken nuggets, and a partial package of hot dogs. That was it, there was no other food.
      It felt like I was punched in the gut as I realized I did not have enough food to feed my kids for the week. I went into the bathroom and had a full on meltdown. I sobbed for several minutes and hyperventilated as the fear fully set in. I cannot remember a time that I have been so afraid. We have been in tight financial situations before, but there was always something there: a little bit of money in the savings, a visit from family that would result in extra money being left on the table, something. This time, there was nothing.
      I went to bed that night still afraid and feeling very dejected. The next morning, I simply did not want to get out of bed. Everything just seemed too much to handle. I was not trusting God and I was afraid.
      The kids and I ended up spending the day at the seminary where my husband manages a coffee shop due to Mama Bird still flying around some. The hubby and I were very transparent with our friends, telling them exactly what was going on and just how much money we were having to pay. Several people offered us encouragement and prayed with us. One of the many benefits of working on a seminary is that everyone puts you to the only real provider, God!
       Over the next 48 hours God showed up for us in really big ways. We found an envelope with $300 on the windshield of our car that afternoon. The next day, a friend and I were talking about all that happened and how we were having to deal with the Mama Bird still flying in because of having to wait for payday to patch the holes. This friend without missing a beat, offered to lend us $500 so we could get the holes taken care of sooner. Then another friend completely took us by surprise by giving us another $100. Needless to say there have been a lot of tears of joy and repentance over the last few days.
      I don't trust God like I should. When things are going good, I can talk about all the times that God has shown up and provided in the past, but when the circumstances get tough, I cannot seem to recall those times. I don't believe that God is going to show up this time, even though he has never failed me in the past. I believe that I am in control and when God reminds me that I am not, I get upset and throw a tantrum like a toddler. I think I am strong, and when God reveals my weakness, I fight back and get mad.
     Yesterday at church we began a 14 week series studying revivals in the Old Testament. The first sermon was about Hannah in 1 Samuel. Our pastor said something that was really profound and kind of hit me in the gut.

     "God uses brokenness as a building block for Revival. God doesn't meet us when we put our best foot forward-he meets us in the midst of our weakness." Daniel Montgomery

     Daniel spoke on how the pattern for revival is the same throughout the Bible: humble yourself before the Lord. My husband looked over at me and asked, "is that what is going on with us right now?" We are not a very humble couple. In fact, we take pride in our ability to scheme and provide for our family and we like to believe that we are in control. We are not good at being transparent with our community and being honest and humble about our struggles. It is hard for us, especially me, to remember that everything we have comes from God. I can speak the truth to others and even be moved by a song that calls me to remember all I have is Christ, but deep down I don't believe it.
     It is amazing the things God can use to teach us more about himself. For me, he used a bird nest and a creepy Mama Bird flying around my  house to show me that he is trustworthy. God is showing me my weakness so that I will humble myself before him. God is meeting me in the midst of my chaos and feelings of incompetence and fear and showing me how incomparable and trustworthy he truly is.

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Happy Mother's Day

    It's Mother's Day and like so many others, I want to take a few minutes to remember the amazing moms in my life. *Disclaimer: I will be reposting this later with a lot of pictures, but I wanted to get this out there early to let all the Mommas in my life know that I am thinking about them this morning, so check back later for the pictures.

    My very own Momma, who has loved me and be my biggest fan and honestly the best mom a girl could ask for over the past 32 years. Also, a woman who has simply excelled at the job of "G-Momma"!

    My grandmothers, JoAnna Harrison and Dannette Taylor, who showed me what selfless, sacrificial love looks like. Also, I am so thankful for the children they raised who would become my parents-they did a good job there. I am thankful for the hours spent playing kitchen at GrannyJo's house and the days spent playing in the upstairs at Grandma's house. Their homes were always open to me and I always felt loved there.

   My mother-in-law, Anne Basden, who has loved me and welcomed me into her family. I am so grateful everyday for the way she raised the man who became my husband. She is always a wonderful Mama-B whom my kids adore.

    Gwen Cox, who I still consider my other mother-in-law. She has been a precious voice of encouragement, especially in the years I have been a mom, and has always opened her home to my children. She is a great GiGi.

     Debbie Perry, the woman who may not be my mother through birth, but she is my Momma all the same. Debbie became Momma to me during my years at Elon and has been Momma ever since. She has opened her home to me many, many times over the years, she has always been a voice of encouragement and reason, and she is a great Granna to my babies. Heck, she was seated as my mother at my wedding while my own mom walked me down the aisle.

     My sweet little sister Mandy who is an amazing mom to her own son and daughter and who has truly become my best friend. She is constant source of encouragement, a great sounding board, and an ever role model to me.

     My amazing friends who are doing this mom journey with me. They remind me that I am not alone in my daily struggles of motherhood and they give me hope that it will get better.

     The two precious lives that made me a mom. My kids are amazing and I can't help but be extra thankful for them on Mother's Day.

    Today I am also burdened however for those women who face Mother's Day with a heavy heart:
  • The woman who faces her first or fifteenth Mother's Day without her mom.
  • The woman who had motherhood snatched from her through miscarriage or stillbirth or a failed adoption
  • The woman who is separated from her children through death or poor choices
  • The woman who desperately wants to be a mother, but years of infertility make that seem impossible
  • The single woman who wants to be a mom, but has yet to find the man to help make that possible
    I encourage you today to honor all the mom's in your life. They deserve your praise and thanks. I also encourage you to seek out that woman in your life for whom Mother's Day is not all joy. Love on her in a special way. Remind her that not only does her heavenly Father see her, but that you see her. Remind her that she is not alone and that she is also cherished. Find a way to help her through this difficult day.

Friday, April 25, 2014

I Need to Stop Being a Quarrelsome Wife

      It's been a while since I last posted because life got in the way. This particular post has been bouncing around in my brain since Wednesday and this is the first moment that I have taken to actually sit down and write it.
      It all began on Tuesday. The hubby and I were having a bad day. We were both in some physical pain (his back, my neck), we were both tired and really irritable. The kids and I met up with the hubby after he got off work and I felt like I could do not say or do anything right. Instead of talking to my husband, I simply shut down and gave him the silent treatment. When I did speak to him, it was terse and short. The silent treatment lead to me thinking really mean thoughts about my husband. Things like, "he never helps me with the kids" (which he does quite a lot) and "I hate that stupid phone, he is always on it" (which he's not and I am just as bad about). Once we got home, he and I spent the rest of the night in separate rooms not talking. It was a long and miserable evening.
      The next morning, I texted him with an apology and when we saw each other again after work we had a good talk about what had upset each of us and exchanged more apologizes and offered up forgiveness. Want to know the really bad thing about all of this? The whole time I was mad, I knew I was being ridiculous. The Holy Spirit kept prompting me to love my husband and talk to him, but I chose to ignore the Spirit. Instead, I fed myself several lies that I believe that we all, but especially women, tell ourselves when our man (or woman) hurts us.
      The first lie is "if he's gonna be nasty, than so am I." We believe that karma (even if we don't use that name) is at play. We tell ourselves that what goes around comes around and he is only getting what he deserves. But there is no place for karma in the Christian life or the Christian marriage.

      Proverbs 24:29 - "Do not say, 'I will do to him as he has done to me; I will pay the man back for what he has done.'"
      Romans 12:17 - "Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all."

     When we claim Christ, we claim his word and all that he is about.  Because I claim Christ, it is not okay for me to "get back" at my husband or to "teach him a lesson," I am called to more than that; I am called to leave the idea of karma behind. Karma says "I get what's coming to me," but Christianity says "I get what's coming to Christ, glory and honor." I am to replicate the love and grace shown to me by God in all areas of my life, but especially in my marriage.
       Along with the first lie, the second lie tells me that I am justified in my anger. Because my husband has done something to hurt or wrong me, I am allowed to wallow in hurt and anger and to hold it all against him. However, Scripture tells me something very different.

      1 Corinthians 13:4-7 - "Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, endures all things."
     1 Peter 4:8 - "Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins."

    Even when the world, or my own pride, tells me that I am justified in my anger and resentment, God's word tells me that real love is contrary to that. Because of my love for my husband, there is no more "I"m justified." When I am focused on the sin, or perceived sin, of my husband, I am incapable of loving him well. When I am loving him earnestly, I am able to see my love for him as opposed to the sin. Because I love him I do not hold his sins against him. When sin does need to be addressed, I do not approach the sin with justice and anger, but instead I approach the sin with love and grace.
     A final lie that I believe is that my husband "knows." That is a big lie that we women like to believe. Our man says or does something that hurts our feelings and instead of telling him, we sulk and let it stew and wait for him to realize what he did. We like to believe that he knows what he did, but sometimes, he honestly does not know. Many times in my marriage, I have had to bring to my husband's attention times when he speaks harshly or makes a comment that he meant in jest, but in fact cut deep. It's not that my husband is an oblivious moron, it's that we perceive things differently and he is not in my head. It is not fair for me to stay mad at my husband without talking to him and telling him why I am mad.

    Mark 10:7-9 - "'Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.' So they are no longer two but one flesh. What therefore God has joined together, let not man separate."
   Colossians 3:13 - "bearing with one another and if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has also forgiven you, so you must also forgive."

    My husband and I are now one. There is no longer two separate individuals, but rather two parts to one whole. It is not fair for me to shut down on my husband and treat him poorly, because that is like shutting down on myself. He is a part of me now. I can't just expect him to figure it out and come groveling to me for forgiveness. I have been told that I must bear with my husband, and that includes bringing my complaints to him. But most importantly, I have been called to forgive my husband. Those of us who are in Christ have experienced forgiveness that is unfathomable. We all deserve death and hell, and yet God in his infinite grace, through the death and resurrection of his son, has shown us all forgiveness. Not only does God forgive us, he no longer holds our sins against us. And just like God has forgiven me, I am called to forgive my husband and to not hold things against him.
      I want to end on something that really convicted me as I searched the Scripture, something that is not comfortable to talk about and something that I honestly wish wasn't in the Bible. Four times in Proverbs it talks about how bad it is to have a quarrelsome wife.

     Proverbs 27:15 - "A continual dripping on a rainy day and a quarrelsome wife are the same."
    Proverbs 19:13 - "A foolish son is ruin to his father, and a wife's quarreling is a continual dripping of rain."
    Proverbs 21:9 and 25:24 -"It is better to live in a corner of the housetop than in a house shared with a quarrelsome wife."

    Dude, these verses suck! When I was younger I used to think how archaic and sexist these verses were. I mean what kind of jerk would write such a thing. I bet the wife had every right to be "quarrelsome" because the husband probably sat on his butt all day barking orders. Then I read these verses on Wednesday after I spent the better part of the previous evening being a quarrelsome wife, and it was like a sucker punch to the gut. Maybe I didn't verbally fight or argue with my husband, but I definitely brought him misery. I treated my husband like dirt and believed the lie that I was justified in doing such. It is hard to admit when we are being quarrelsome women.
     These verses not archaic or even sexist. These verses speak truth into the marriage relationship. Wives are called to bring their husbands joy, not misery (and vice versa). It would break my heart if my husband ever felt that I was a quarrelsome wife.
       It is important to remember that a Christian marriage should not reflect the world, it should reflect Christ. Jesus was not quarrelsome and he most definitely did not bear any resentment towards the throngs of people who wronged him. When I take hold of the banner of Christ, I am claiming him as my identity and I am trusting in the Spirit to sanctify me daily to be more like my Jesus. In those moments when I want to give into my anger and resentment, I have to lean on the truth of Scripture and remember that I am called to more than that. I am called to love my husband well and to allow that love to cover his sins. I am called to be a source of joy for my husband. I don't have all of this down yet, but thankfully I have a lifetime with my man to get better at it.