There are times when I am so overwhelmed by what God has blessed me with that I cry. The tears come from the joy that floods my heart. Are there difficult days? (Does anyone really expect that I will answer this question with "no?") My son is 6 months old, and still doesn't sleep through the night. Before I got pregnant with him, I was deployed and had to sleep mostly during the day, in Afghanistan, with a mostly broken air conditioner. Needless to say, sleep was elusive. Anyone who has ever been pregnant knows that sleeping through the night is a challenge. So I have not had a regular night's sleep for one year and seven months. I have a going-on-three year old daughter whom I think is going to be in the category of terrible threes instead of twos. And our monthly just got hacked to less than half what we used to get. So yes, there are difficult days. Even on those difficult days though, I am reminded of God's unending and abounding love for me.
During my teenage years, my rebellion against my parents only served to push me towards Christ. Having not grown up in a Christian home, I was quite content to show my difference by having a faith in God that my family did not share. When I first accepted Jesus' free gift, I couldn't wait to tell my family about this great news. As a thirteen year old girl, I knew that every single one of my family members was searching for something. Perhaps they didn't know that they were searching, but I am certain that they knew they weren't satisfied with life. I excitedly told them about this faith that I possessed and explained that it was for whoever wanted it. I remember thinking, "This is going to change the way we've all been living." The first time I told my parents about Christ, they blew me off saying that I was just going through a phase. After all, what thirteen year old girl doesn't have a "phase." As time wore on, my parents started to feel more and more accosted by my continual "ramblings" about Jesus. It wasn't long before they forbade me to speak of Christ at all. I was heartbroken for them, but I knew the situation was not going to get any better and I longed to leave the household. The conditions at my home were difficult, not least because of my family's unbelief. We were poor, and had been since I could remember. We lived in a very old three bedroom house, the members of my household numbering between five and eight at any given time. I was a teenage girl, living with all teenage boys, not all of whom were related to me. And I was the only one not doing some form of drugs. As I said, I longed to be free of this lifestyle. I felt as if I was the ugly duckling in this twisted, real-life story. For all my efforts, I still didn't belong.
The last year of my junior high school career came and went, and still, there was no change at home. By summertime, my life with Christ was completely separate from my life at home. I grew close to people at my church (which was thankfully just one block away from my house) who took me under their wings. They taught me about Jesus and I soaked up the information wholeheartedly and with extreme gladness. To know that this person who created the whole of the universe, had a special place in His heart for me was beyond any kind of love I had ever known, and it still is. It would be futile to try to explain the joy I felt to finally have the love that I so craved. I truly believe that though God does sometimes ask us to do things and stay in situations that are difficult for us, He also knows our hearts better than we do, and He cares about the things we care about. At this point in my life, I wanted nothing more than to be with a family who shared my faith.
The time came, not too far into my freshman year of high school that my family was told to find a new place to live. Though I am sure my parents worked hard to find a place in time, there was a ten day gap between when we were supposed to move out of our current house, to when our new residence would be ready for us. My brothers and I were told to stay with friends while my parents stayed in a hotel for that week and a half.
I was supposed to stay in the living room of a family that I had grown close to. It was a small house, and it would be awkward living, but it would do for ten days. When one of the other girls in youth group heard that I needed a place to stay, she cried to her parents about it. And it worked! This new family had an extra room and were known for their hospitality. Melissa and I didn't know each other well, but we spent over an hour of the phone talking about anything and everything the night she invited me to stay with her family. I don't think even she knew that she was really inviting me to be a part of her family forever. Thank God that He knew, though!
The day that Melissa and her mom, Debbie, picked me up from my former house, would change my life forever. There are times (like right now) that I cry over God's grace and abundant love for me.
(more to follow)
18 September 2011
08 August 2011
Midwife in the Making
Until very recently, I thought I wanted to teach. I've wanted to grow up to be so many things before, but teaching has always been on the list of what I wanted to do. I guess I liked my teachers. (For the most part, anyway. I do have a history of yelling at them, which ended me up on suspension and in the principle's office more than once. That was pre-Christ.) It always made sense to me that teachers were always going to be needed and I loved school, so why not just stay in it for my entire life? Then I saw what my husband went through as an elementary school teacher.
For at least the first three weeks of school, my husband would work until about 11pm. He wanted to make sure that with all these budget cuts and layoffs, he boss knew that Eli was dedicated and good at teaching. (Does it infuriate anyone else that teachers get paid so little? America's super power status is going to dwindle fast if nobody wants to teach our kids anymore because they can't support themselves on the salary. But that's a blog for another day.) On top of always working later than everyone else (even the janitors went home before he did most nights), Eli was made to sign up for extracurricular activities within the school. And actual grades don't really matter anymore, though they are still required, what matters is standardized testing. Eli would literally spend a week trying to test all 26 of his students. Yes, 26 students with one teacher. This is nothing to speak of the calls he had make to CPS on a regular basis and just the work it takes to teach 2nd graders how to act in a classroom setting! So, you add all this up and you hardly get to teach it seems like. And when you are actually teaching, there can't be too much enjoyment from it since you're thinking about the next thing you have to do for the school or the state. It was so discouraging to watch my husband stress out about what should have been an exhilarating experience. So discouraging, in fact that I began thinking that maybe I didn't want to teach. It wasn't until I got pregnant with my son that I started to develop a new passion. (Just so everyone is clear, I would way rather be a country star than go to school for anything...but alas, I lack rhythm and contacts. lol)
After going through my first pregnancy with no clue about anything, and then doing more research with my second, a passion burst out of me to tell women that their bodies were made for this. That laboring and delivering a child with no intervention unless absolutely medically necessary, is SO much better. I didn't know until after my second was born that being in control of the whole process made such a difference. Well, I guess there was one point during delivery of my second that I felt like I no idea what the heck was happening, but it was short lived. The difference between my hospital birth, and my birth center/water tub birth is vast. So vast that I am not sure that I can truly get to the heart of it.
It is with this new-found knowledge and passion that I am about to embark on a journey towards the empowerment of women to deny the drug-filled interventions of a hospital birth.
Shout out to my sister for telling me to watch, "The Business of Being Born," a documentary on the subject of home-births vs. hospital births. It was this documentary that first inspired me to really look into the possibilities.
Let me also say that for some women, it is medically necessary to have their baby at a hospital. And for some, they prefer it. I don't want women to feel like I judge them for whatever decision they make for themselves and their babies. I just women to know that there are other options. I was absolutely clueless when I was pregnant the first time. I wish someone had told me.
For at least the first three weeks of school, my husband would work until about 11pm. He wanted to make sure that with all these budget cuts and layoffs, he boss knew that Eli was dedicated and good at teaching. (Does it infuriate anyone else that teachers get paid so little? America's super power status is going to dwindle fast if nobody wants to teach our kids anymore because they can't support themselves on the salary. But that's a blog for another day.) On top of always working later than everyone else (even the janitors went home before he did most nights), Eli was made to sign up for extracurricular activities within the school. And actual grades don't really matter anymore, though they are still required, what matters is standardized testing. Eli would literally spend a week trying to test all 26 of his students. Yes, 26 students with one teacher. This is nothing to speak of the calls he had make to CPS on a regular basis and just the work it takes to teach 2nd graders how to act in a classroom setting! So, you add all this up and you hardly get to teach it seems like. And when you are actually teaching, there can't be too much enjoyment from it since you're thinking about the next thing you have to do for the school or the state. It was so discouraging to watch my husband stress out about what should have been an exhilarating experience. So discouraging, in fact that I began thinking that maybe I didn't want to teach. It wasn't until I got pregnant with my son that I started to develop a new passion. (Just so everyone is clear, I would way rather be a country star than go to school for anything...but alas, I lack rhythm and contacts. lol)
After going through my first pregnancy with no clue about anything, and then doing more research with my second, a passion burst out of me to tell women that their bodies were made for this. That laboring and delivering a child with no intervention unless absolutely medically necessary, is SO much better. I didn't know until after my second was born that being in control of the whole process made such a difference. Well, I guess there was one point during delivery of my second that I felt like I no idea what the heck was happening, but it was short lived. The difference between my hospital birth, and my birth center/water tub birth is vast. So vast that I am not sure that I can truly get to the heart of it.
It is with this new-found knowledge and passion that I am about to embark on a journey towards the empowerment of women to deny the drug-filled interventions of a hospital birth.
Shout out to my sister for telling me to watch, "The Business of Being Born," a documentary on the subject of home-births vs. hospital births. It was this documentary that first inspired me to really look into the possibilities.
Let me also say that for some women, it is medically necessary to have their baby at a hospital. And for some, they prefer it. I don't want women to feel like I judge them for whatever decision they make for themselves and their babies. I just women to know that there are other options. I was absolutely clueless when I was pregnant the first time. I wish someone had told me.
29 July 2011
God Spared No Expense
This evening I enjoyed a nice conversation with my Aunt Julie. She recently took a trip to Nashiville where she was able to see a famous country singer in concert. I jokingly remarked that God had spared no expense with this person.
Then I got to thinking, God spared no expense with any of us. So when we think there's been a mistake in how someone was made, we're wrong. These abnormalities, that Asher has, the fact that his eyes don't work quite right and his ears don't hear as well as they should, this was all part of who God made him. People are offered genetic testing to determine whether their child could have Downs Syndrome before the child is ever born. There are some people who don't recognize God's hand in that child's creation and would choose to not keep him or her. And that just breaks my heart. Both for the child, and for the parent. Surely God knows how to bless us. I understand that having a child with disabilities would be a difficult road, but if that is how God chooses to shower us with blessings, I pray that we recognize that.
Thank you Jesus for knowing us so well, that you know how to best communicate your love to us. Thank you that you take our emotions and concerns into account, but also for knowing how to challenge us to walk deeper with you. Truly, you are loving.
"For You formed my inward parts; You knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise You for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are Your works; my soul knows it very well."
(PS-Maybe I am enjoying having a blog, lol)
Then I got to thinking, God spared no expense with any of us. So when we think there's been a mistake in how someone was made, we're wrong. These abnormalities, that Asher has, the fact that his eyes don't work quite right and his ears don't hear as well as they should, this was all part of who God made him. People are offered genetic testing to determine whether their child could have Downs Syndrome before the child is ever born. There are some people who don't recognize God's hand in that child's creation and would choose to not keep him or her. And that just breaks my heart. Both for the child, and for the parent. Surely God knows how to bless us. I understand that having a child with disabilities would be a difficult road, but if that is how God chooses to shower us with blessings, I pray that we recognize that.
Thank you Jesus for knowing us so well, that you know how to best communicate your love to us. Thank you that you take our emotions and concerns into account, but also for knowing how to challenge us to walk deeper with you. Truly, you are loving.
"For You formed my inward parts; You knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise You for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are Your works; my soul knows it very well."
(PS-Maybe I am enjoying having a blog, lol)
Backseat chorus
I don't know what it is, but Asher so far does not enjoy his car seat. Audrey did not enjoy hers either, until she was a little older. In fact, she would throw such a fit as a baby that Eli and I would take turns reaching our arms to the back seat to rock Audrey's car seat until she was soothed a bit. Asher isn't quite as upset as Audrey was about being in the car, but still, I wonder how I got the two kids in the whole world who don't like car rides as infants?
Now that Audrey is just about 2 months shy of being 3 years old (omgoodness!), she quite enjoys car rides, though she often tells us that she'd rather be the one driving. Her interest in Asher is mostly when his presence affects her. So if her friends are paying attention to him, instead of her, then she will pay attention to him as well. There are a few occasions when she is sweet to him for not particular reason at all, but for the most part, she is rather indifferent. That is, until he starts crying in the car.
Audrey is a chatterbox and Asher's crying quite often interrupts whatever Audrey was saying, which to her, is not acceptable. Her solution used to be to try to talk over him so that we could still hear what she was saying. When that didn't work, she tried to reason with him. That failed as well, so then she would tell us that he needed his paci so he would stop crying. (As if we didn't know, lol.) This too, has not delivered results. Her new idea is to sing him a song. Audrey's song goes like this, "My name's Audrey and your name's Asher" repeated several times in a row. The best part is, sometimes it works! When it does, we tell Audrey that she's a great big sister and that her brother loves her. I hope she hears me, but she goes right back to talking so quickly that sometimes, I am not sure she does.
Eli and I encourage Audrey's attempts to comfort Asher because that's what families are supposed to do, right? I want them both to learn that loving each other includes a myriad of different things, like comforting. I am willing to take the enormous amount of noise in our tiny car any day, any time, if it teaches our children how to care for one another. Not only am I willing to listen to it, but I actually enjoy it and sometimes find myself laughing at the crazy backseat chorus of crying and singing. I love watching the bond form between them and I hope and pray it lasts. I want to encourage Audrey's generally indifferent attitude toward her brother to become one of love and endearment. And I want Asher to know how awesome his big sister is. I want them to make the most of their childhood years together, and I want to give them the tools to do that, even if all I want to hear at that moment is my favorite song on the radio.
I pray that this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship for my kids.
Now that Audrey is just about 2 months shy of being 3 years old (omgoodness!), she quite enjoys car rides, though she often tells us that she'd rather be the one driving. Her interest in Asher is mostly when his presence affects her. So if her friends are paying attention to him, instead of her, then she will pay attention to him as well. There are a few occasions when she is sweet to him for not particular reason at all, but for the most part, she is rather indifferent. That is, until he starts crying in the car.
Audrey is a chatterbox and Asher's crying quite often interrupts whatever Audrey was saying, which to her, is not acceptable. Her solution used to be to try to talk over him so that we could still hear what she was saying. When that didn't work, she tried to reason with him. That failed as well, so then she would tell us that he needed his paci so he would stop crying. (As if we didn't know, lol.) This too, has not delivered results. Her new idea is to sing him a song. Audrey's song goes like this, "My name's Audrey and your name's Asher" repeated several times in a row. The best part is, sometimes it works! When it does, we tell Audrey that she's a great big sister and that her brother loves her. I hope she hears me, but she goes right back to talking so quickly that sometimes, I am not sure she does.
Eli and I encourage Audrey's attempts to comfort Asher because that's what families are supposed to do, right? I want them both to learn that loving each other includes a myriad of different things, like comforting. I am willing to take the enormous amount of noise in our tiny car any day, any time, if it teaches our children how to care for one another. Not only am I willing to listen to it, but I actually enjoy it and sometimes find myself laughing at the crazy backseat chorus of crying and singing. I love watching the bond form between them and I hope and pray it lasts. I want to encourage Audrey's generally indifferent attitude toward her brother to become one of love and endearment. And I want Asher to know how awesome his big sister is. I want them to make the most of their childhood years together, and I want to give them the tools to do that, even if all I want to hear at that moment is my favorite song on the radio.
I pray that this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship for my kids.
27 July 2011
Today is MY day
Shania Twain has this new song that I am in love with. Ever since I was a little girl, I have loved country music. Guess who dressed up as Garth Brooks in 4th grade when it was, "do a presentation on your favorite celebrity" day? That's right, this girl. My outfit was complete with bright purple suede boots...but I digress. So this new song by Shania is awesome. She wrote it after her husband cheated on her with her best friend. I am using it as my anthem to conquer this life that I love.
You see, I love being a wife, I love being a mother, I love being a friend, and I love being my own person outside of all these. With all those things that I love being, comes responsibility and work. But I am still adjusting to being all of these things at once. I have always been my own person, and I have always had friends, so I have those two down pat. It's only been three years though since I have become a wife and two years since becoming a mother. What's more is, it's been just a short 6 months that I have not worked full time. Life has felt pretty chaotic lately with all the big changes and I have felt very overwhelmed by those changes and the new roles I must play. The first couple months of this were spent just surviving. I was about 6 months pregnant when I quit working and this pregnancy was taking it's toll on me. My poor toddler did not get as much mommy time as I was hoping for since every step was painful and the exhaustion factor was huge. Then my husband was let go from his job which was nice for a while after my son was born. It allowed us have time together as family to adjust to our new addition. Since then though, I stopped getting payment from my previous job, and things have started to get crazy again. I have known for quite some time that for the sake of my children, and for my sanity that we need a schedule, some structure that we can depend on. But finding the time between a newborn, a toddler, a husband and friends has been difficult. (Not to mention a now four month old baby who is just learning to sleep through the night. That makes for a tired mama.) This week though, I decided, today is my day, and nothing is going to stand in my way. It's time to start accomplishing those goals of getting the family on a routine. So with coffee by my side, a plan for my baby to sleep, and our awesome God as my guide, here we go.
You see, I love being a wife, I love being a mother, I love being a friend, and I love being my own person outside of all these. With all those things that I love being, comes responsibility and work. But I am still adjusting to being all of these things at once. I have always been my own person, and I have always had friends, so I have those two down pat. It's only been three years though since I have become a wife and two years since becoming a mother. What's more is, it's been just a short 6 months that I have not worked full time. Life has felt pretty chaotic lately with all the big changes and I have felt very overwhelmed by those changes and the new roles I must play. The first couple months of this were spent just surviving. I was about 6 months pregnant when I quit working and this pregnancy was taking it's toll on me. My poor toddler did not get as much mommy time as I was hoping for since every step was painful and the exhaustion factor was huge. Then my husband was let go from his job which was nice for a while after my son was born. It allowed us have time together as family to adjust to our new addition. Since then though, I stopped getting payment from my previous job, and things have started to get crazy again. I have known for quite some time that for the sake of my children, and for my sanity that we need a schedule, some structure that we can depend on. But finding the time between a newborn, a toddler, a husband and friends has been difficult. (Not to mention a now four month old baby who is just learning to sleep through the night. That makes for a tired mama.) This week though, I decided, today is my day, and nothing is going to stand in my way. It's time to start accomplishing those goals of getting the family on a routine. So with coffee by my side, a plan for my baby to sleep, and our awesome God as my guide, here we go.
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