Silent No More

 

Image courtesy of Witthaya Phonsawat at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

     It has been a long time since I have written anything. In fact my last post was on November 11, 2014. Over the past couple of days I have been reading back through my old posts and realized that all of them had hope and pointed to Christ. I think the reason I haven't written is because over the past few months I have lost my hope. I have stopped looking to Christ as my comfort. I have let fear and shame and sadness silence me. I have been hiding my pain, but no more. Today I reclaim my voice and I share the ugly truth.
     About a month ago I was on my way to church and I was angry. Aaron and I had had yet another argument and I had stormed out. I was mad at life and like I so often do when I am alone in the car, I started talking to myself. My youngest sister, who passed away in October, was heavy on mind and heart and I began thinking that maybe I was not processing my grief well and that was manifesting itself in anger at everyone and everything.
     At church I ran into the wife of one of our elders, she and her husband head up the counseling ministry as a matter of fact. I realized in that moment that God had intervened and put me in the same space as the person who could help me. I basically stalked this woman until she and I could have a few moments alone. I shared with her some of the things that were plaguing my soul and she shared with me the steps I needed to take to receive Gospel Care and she prayed with me. Later that night she touched base with me again and we agreed that I would go through Gospel Care with our church's family pastor since I had been serving in the children's ministry for years.
    It took a few weeks but schedules finally worked out and two Saturdays ago, our family pastor, Aaron, and I meet for our first session. I went into this meeting thinking that I would be working through grief, but realized that there was so much more going on.
    My pastor shared that anger is a surface level emotion and that there is something deeper going on. Anger is easier than actually dealing with the real emotion. We spent this first meeting trying to determine what is going on deep in my soul. I shared with my pastor and my husband how I feel alone and like I shouldn't be sad about my sister since we didn't have a strong relationship and how I have irrational fears. I have actually shared about my fears and anxieties on the blog before. However, before that day I never realized just how far back my fears go.
     As we were talking I realized that my irrational fears go back to my childhood. I was a cautious kid who thought about the consequences before doing anything. I was a rule-follower to a fault. In fact, to this day I don't like The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss because the Cat was not supposed to be there and the kids did things they weren't supposed to do. My pastor asked me if I would ever tell anyone when I was afraid as a child and said, "not really, I would usually isolate myself in my room. I didn't tell my parents because I didn't want to add a burden to them." As we talked I also realized that I didn't share my fear because I was ashamed, I didn't want to be seen as weak or wrong or broken. I didn't want to make waves, so I buried my pain and I isolated myself. I'm pretty sure that my parents to this day don't know how often I was afraid as I child, sorry Mom and Dad. I don't fault my parents AT ALL, I am pretty good at hiding.
     I walked away from that meeting realizing that I get angry when I feel I am losing control, which I know is an illusion to begin with. I admitted to myself and my husband that I have irrational, exaggerated fears that at times can paralyze me. There are many things I don't even try or give up on almost immediately for fear of failing. I also realized that I have exaggerated shame. Because I never felt like I could share my fears or pain or failings, my shame became exaggerated. The hardest part was admitting that I don't trust Christ. I am Christian and I know all the right answers, I know that when I am afraid I should remember that God is in control, but I don't. Before this week, it had been a very long time since I had opened my Bible to have a quiet time. I was retreating from the Lord and I had stopped trusting that he could handle my life.
    As much as I hate to admit it, I struggle with depression and irrationality. I have seen this in very vivid ways this week. When I make a mistake, instead of learning from that mistake and growing, I spiral down into a self-loathing pit where I think, "I am screw-up and I am ruining my husband's life, he would be better off without me, it would be better if I was invisible." Having a clean house matters to my husband and this week I have been trying to make a more conscious effort to clean. However, I feel like a child because I once I clean something I immediately have to tell him what I did. I feel like I am jumping up and down saying, "look at me, look what I did, I am of value." I am so desperate for his affirmation that I sometimes force the issue.
     I have also seen this week how contradictory my behavior is to what I actually want from people. I pull away and isolate myself, yet I don't want to be alone. I act cold towards my husband when what I want most is for him to pull me in. I hide away my pain for fear of disapproval when what I want most is someone to step in to my darkness and see what is really there. I make myself invisible when all I want is to be seen and known.
     This morning we started a sermon series at church about feelings and we started the series off by talking about sadness and working through Psalm 77. Before our pastor began preaching the text he talked about the factors that cause sadness. There are situational factors, like losing a loved one or losing a job, there are physical factors, like stress and fatigue, and then there is clinical depression. As he was talking about clinical depression I realized for the first time that I am mostly afraid that one day I am going to be diagnosed with a mental illness. Mental illness runs in my family and the odds that I too have a mental illness are actually strong. I am afraid that I am crazy.
     I write this because I don't want to hide anymore. I no longer want to let my fear choke me and silence my voice. I no longer want my shame to paralyze me. I don't want to be invisible any longer, I want to be seen and known for all I am, even the ugly parts. I don't want to hide my pain and pretend that everything is okay. I want to trust that Christ does understand where I am and that he is in the midst of my darkness. I want to run to my Father instead of retreating into myself.
     There will be no Bible verses to end this post. I will not be sharing ways to love well a person struggling with the junk I struggle with. This is the beginning of my journey and I hope that you will come along with me. At times my journey will be dark and ugly, but there will also be times of joy and hope. My goal is to use this blog as a way to reclaim my voice. I have suffered in silence for too long, it is time to speak up and as my family pastor said, "make waves." Finally pray for me as I make this journey. Pray for my husband to have patience and understanding as he takes this journey with me. Pray for my kids that they will be able to see and learn how to deal with emotions in a healthy way through my journey. Pray for the people who are helping me along the way that God will use them to speak truth to my soul.

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.

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.

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. 

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.

    

   

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!

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!