Thursday, December 27, 2012

I'm happy for you!


You are guaranteed to find two things at our dinner table:  Good food and a four year old looking for a race.  Every night it is the same thing, “Mom, am I beating you?”  And like the good Mom that I believe myself to be I usually respond with, “No, you’re not Michael”.  It may say sound harsh but I am trying to prepare him for the real world.  The world in which people will run further, jump higher, and maybe even eat faster than him.  Yes, this real world does exist.  The part that breaks my heart is after I have told Michael that in fact I am beating him, he then shrugs his shoulders and says, “I guess I’m not awesome”.  Of course I give him the talk about how he is wonderful and awesome.  About how just because I am eating faster than him does not take that fact away.  But in his four year old little mind the only conclusion he can make is this- If you are winning, then I am not.
 
 When did we start to believe this lie?  I am not talking about sports or competitions of any kind that clearly call for a rank of some sorts.  I am however talking about the day to day life in which we struggle to be happy for someone else’s victory if we are struggling with defeat in that same area.  It sounds so easy to say “I’m happy for you”- but when it comes down to it, it is a lot harder to get out of our mouth and even harder to mean with our whole heart.   If paying someone a compliment means depleting your own happiness or self-worth, then you are drawing from the wrong account!   
 
I have been on both sides of this topic!  I have been the one to share good news and I have also been the one to hear about it.  I have been the one to want for years to own my own home only to hear friend after friend tell me their exciting news about buying their first house.  I have been the one to want a third child only to have an unexpected pregnancy and miscarriage while friend after friend find out that they are pregnant.  I have been the one to want the ability to buy excessive amounts of new clothing only to see friend after friend walking around in some.  I understand what it is like to have to say “I’m happy for you” through the grinding of your teeth and the biting of your lip.  It is hard, and sometimes not even truthful.  But at the end of the day if I can bring myself to say that I am happy for them and truly mean it, you better believe that I am not saying that I am sad for me.  The two are not related.  And while their victories may be a reminder of my defeat- it is not a reflection of it!
 
After my little pep talk with Michael about how he is awesome even though I may be eating faster, I always end it with “now, say ‘Good Job Mommy’”.  I know that it is hard for him because he puts his head down and underneath his breath you can barely make out those three little words that I asked him to repeat.  But he says it.  And then I shrink down to look at him face to face and tell him “Now you say, ‘I’ll get you next time!’”  This part he can say with much excitement and it makes my heart happy.  The competitive side of him kicks in and he realizes that it is not the end.  There will be many many more dinners.  And that is the reality of it all.  There will be many more chances for victory in your own life even if at the moment you are walking in defeat.  You too will one day have the ability to shop until you drop, meet the love of your life or get the keys to a fancy new car.  And just because someone gets it first doesn’t mean that you won’t.  So practice saying it with me, “I’m happy for you!” 
 
 
 
Exodus 20:17
"You must not covet your neighbor's house.  You must not covet your neighbor's wife [or boyfriend], male or female servant [or mother who cleans for them], ox or donkey [or corvette], or anything else that belongs to your neighbor."

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Waiting for answers is the worst part

This time last year I was preparing for our second son's arrival.  Questions raced through my head all day; what would he look like, would he have the same crazy hair as our first son, would he be independent or a momma's boy, would he be a sleeper... Dear God, please let him be a sleeper!  Waiting for answers was the worst part.  And then he was here.  All 8 pounds 6 ounces of him.  White as can be, nearly bald but for the blonde fuzz that stuck to his head.  Nothing like our first son, Michael.  No, but in his own way Jacob was perfect.
 
We spent that first night together.  I should have let him sleep in the plastic wheelcart they push around for newborns that they call a basinet but I was too much in love to let him leave my side.  I don't know that I got any sleep that night, I just remember staring at him.  The morning crept up so fast and before I knew it Rich was out the door getting his energy drink fix and my favorite Starbucks drink while nurses paraded in and out.  The pediatrician stopped in to see our little man and I couldn't wait to hear the words- you can take him home today!  I waited for what seemed like forever as he examined his little body, and what started out as a normal check up turned into a concerned look on the doctors face.  He didn't say anything at first, he just rushed out of the room to find the nurse.  Waiting for answers was the worst part.  As they both came back in they put Jacob in his wheelcart and as they were pushing him away they told me that our son had a problem with his heart and needed to be rushed to the NICU immediately.  They wheeled him upstairs and a nurse held my hand as I tried to keep up walking behind him.  I didn't understand what was happening.  And I was all alone. 
 
I remember walking into the most severe of the NICU rooms and seeing him there with wires and IV's coming out of him, surrounded by the tiniest babies I had ever seen.  One of the nurses greeted me and pulled a chair out for me to sit on next to his station.  She told me that one of the doctors would fill me in with what was happening once my husband had arrived.  Seeing Rich walk through the door was the only relief I had that day.  His strength.  His faith.  His hand holding tightly to mine as they told us that not only did our son have a few holes in his heart (an anatomical problem which was common in some babies) but there was also a third degree heart blockage (an electrical problem that would cause his heart to skip every third beat).  I looked up at the monitor in disbelief.  My questions from the night before seemed insignificant and I was now wondering; would my child be able to play baseball, will he need surgery or long term medication, will he even have a normal childhood?  Waiting for answers was the worst part.  The doctors were just as confused by the condition as we were because they had never seen it before in the NICU.  Our pediatrician had only come across this condition once before, 30 years ago, and that baby had needed a pacemaker.
 
I knew that God had a plan for our little Jacob.  I knew that somehow He would heal him.  Whether it was a pacemaker or a miracle- Jacob would live a full life.  I wished I had the answers right then.  I wished someone could have told me exactly how God planned to help our little boy, waiting for answers was the worst part.  We were released from the hospital and for six days we were given little hope by doctors and nurses as his heart showed no change in rythm. I had to drive back and forth every 3 hours to feed Jacob and the one true comfort I had, I found in the Word.  I would find a way to hold him close, not to tangle his cords, and I would speak a new verse into his ear everyday.  A verse of healing, a verse of hope and a verse of strength.  It was like a fog had settled over our lives and the deepest of sorrows filled my heart but I refused to let it shake my faith.  "Don't be confused by my tears", I remember telling my seemingly unshaken husband, "I know that God will heal him."  
 
Jacob was released on December 23, 2012 into the outpatient care of a heart specialist.  The nurses couldn't believe they were letting us go but I knew that it was God- it had been my one and only Christmas wish, to have our family home.  In the months that followed we took Jacob in to get scans of his heart, each time hoping that something had changed.  On the morning of his three month checkup, I remember an overwhelming peace that came over me.  This was different from the peace I had felt that had comforted me through this whole situation.  It was a peace that knew this time something was different.  I made sugar cookies shaped like hearts and brought them with me to the appointment.  The specialist brought the machine over, and as I sat there looking at the screen the only thing I could think of was that the waiting for answers was the worst part.  And then he looked up.  He smiled.  And he told me that Jacob was completely healthy, there was no trace of any heart problems at all.  He would live a long, happy, normal life. 
 
I cried.  Then I wiped away my tears, smiled and handed him his plate of cookies to thank him for his help.  I walked out of there sure of what I already knew- that God can still do miracles. 
 
Now besides the fact that it is almost Jacob's first birthday, there is another reason that I wanted to share his story.  After going through the loss of a miscarriage I have heard many well meaning people say that "we don't always understand God's will".  I am deeply saddened by this.  I am saddened that they would serve a God they would believe to allow a woman to get pregnant and then cause her to miscarry all in the name of "God's will".  This is not the God we serve.  The bible says in Jeremiah 29:11 that "His plans are good and not evil, to give us hope and a future".  His plan was not for me to miscarry or for Jacob to have a third degree heart blockage.  And as I have said many times before, God WORKS all things for our good even when they aren't good (Romans 8:28).  I don't know why we miscarried and if I was waiting for the answer then I would be waiting a long time.  I don't think any answer would be good enough but it surely was not His plan.  He is good. 
 
I know in difficult times we often search for a reason why, believing that the answer might give us some closure.  I can assure you that it does not.  It does not take the pain away.  It does not give us back what was taken.  It does not cause us enough strength or peace to carry on.  When there are tragedies that cause insurmountable pain and no answers to be found, hold on to hope.  Hold on to the words of a loving God.  Whether the situation comes out like Jacob's story and you find a great victory, or whether you are left after a tragic situation (for us- a miscarriage) pulling yourself together from what feels like an incredible defeat- just know that if you are looking back waiting for answers then you will never truly embrace what is surrounding you now.  Waiting for answers is the worst part. 
 
 
 
John 16:33
"I’ve told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured,
deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties.
But take heart! I’ve conquered the world.”
The Message

Monday, December 3, 2012

That's what we need!

"Oh the weather outside is frightful..." or it was anyway.  And not frightful in the sense that we would lose our home but rather it was a Sunday morning and my once straight and perfectly poofed up pony tail was now a sad, half wet, droopy hot mess by the time I reached the shelter of the inside of the church.  Even more funny to look at was my unsuspecting eleven month old who was soaked from head to toe.  His confused little face brought me back to the beginning of the year when a quick trip to Target turned into a mad dash for the car.  When we had arrived at the store the sky was partly cloudy, and I know that I may take my time in such a wonderful place that offers such cute clothes at such inexpensive prices, but I do know that I was not in there longer than 30 minutes.  Obviously 30 minutes was long enough for a storm to form and pour down flash-flood worthy rain. 
 
As I frantically pushed my two boys to the car, threw them in the back seat and buckeled them as fast as I possibly could- the woman parked next to us sauntered up and slowly began to unload her things.  "SEE MOM!" Michael yelled to me, "THAT's what we need!".  I look over to my son pointing at the reason for this woman's tranquil composure- an umbrella.  I am sure at one point I have bought an umbrella, certainly I have borrowed one a time or two and known of it's benefits, but I would be lying if I said that I had just merely forgotten it that day.  I had no clue where that silly thing was.  I have gone many a rainy seasons without and I still have yet to buy one;  that little $10 purchase could have been the very thing to save my hair on such a gloomy Sunday morning, but as I look out at a clear sky an umbrella is the last thing on my mind.
 
It's funny isn't it.  In the middle of the storm we are frantic, not heeding the numerous warnings given to us by the news, but as soon as it is over we return back to normal life as if nothing has happened.  These last two months can be described as nothing less than stormy (figuratively speaking of course) for our little family.  I have had the opportunity to share with many friends about our situation and have often been questioned about my noticeably calm demeaner. It is not a defense mechanism, I am not ignoring or putting off what has happened, and I am certainly not relieved- I just have an umbrella.  An umbrella?  Yes, an umbrella that I take with me everywhere I go no matter the season.  Because you never know when a sneaky little storm will come and catch you completely off guard.
 
This thing I carry with me, is my protection from all life may throw at me.  It is the thing that keeps the sun from burning my skin and the same thing that keeps the rain from deflating my hair.  It not only protects me, but my children and those close to me.  It is at times the only thing keeping me from coming completely undone.  I am sure if you have talked with me long enough you know that what I am speaking about is my personal relationship with a loving God and if you are without one then don't be confused if I saunter up beside you and start to unload the things into my car- unchanged by my surroundings.  I'm covered.  I'm protected.  I'm crazy enough to believe the words that He spoke to me that are written in my Bible.  Words of peace that surpasses understanding, joy that comes in the morning, strength when I am weak, a promise to never be left alone, and love that sees past my failures.  I may not always have to use those promises, but when the storm comes that umbrella is the first thing I reach for.  (Secondly of course would be my waterproof mascara, but that isn't the point.) 
 
If only people knew that their local stores offered such umbrellas.  And when they reached the counter they would find out that someone had already paid the price.  It is a free gift.  And I love free. Friends, life can be stormy sometimes but don't blame the umbrella!  Go get one, and don't just keep it locked away in a closet somewhere- use it, it will change your life!
 
 
Psalm 91:14-16*
“Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him;
I will set him on high, because he has known My name. 
He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; 
I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him and honor him.
With long life I will satisfy him, and show him My salvation.”
 
*This is only a snid-bit of my favorite chapter, I encourage you to read all of Psalm 91!