I have heard it said that Christianity is "just another fear based religion". It might surprise you to find that this was said by people who know the Bible and have walked as a "Christian" at some point in their life. I will be completely honest and admit that much of my Christian life has been walking in fear. But that was simply because I was missing the point.
When I was younger I had heard of Satan and the "fiery pits of hell", and I wanted NO part of that. Have you ever had a curling iron burn?!? Or even a sunburn?!? I can't imagine feeling that pain on every part of my body for all of eternity. No way. So I was going to be a Christian and do whatever God wanted me to do. I was afraid of hell. Simple as that. After a few years I had become intrigued with the "end times" and was enthralled with the Left Behind series of books and Revelations (of course). Now I was no longer just afraid of hell.. but of being "left behind". I didn't (and still don't) want to have to be here to witness and endure the Antichrist's reign on Earth. I don't want to be tested and punished or even killed for my faith. I would rather quietly vanish onto a cloud in my sleep peacefully with Jesus... who wouldn't?!
It was only recently that I discovered a whole new faith. A whole new perspective. I fell in love. Just as I fell in love with my gorgeous husband, I fell in love with Jesus. It started with listening to Contemporary Christian music on the radio. Have you ever listened to this stuff? They all sound like love songs. You could serenade your sweetheart with these songs! I was being wooed. Jesus won my heart through song. this song sings it perfectly. In falling in love with Him, I started wanting to please Him. I have a desire to make Him smile and to make His heart happy.
I compare this relationship with my marriage. I fell in love with Mike and I was crazy, head over heels! I wanted to do all the right things and say all the right things and make him just as crazy in love with me as I was with him. I wanted to do whatever he wanted to make him happy. I cook his dinner and wash his clothes and kiss him goodbye and hello.. not because I am afraid of him leaving me.. but because I love him. I will never cheat on him with any other, not because I am afraid of him leaving me, but because I have no desire for any other. Nobody catches my eye anymore but him. I have complete faith that he will never leave me. Our relationship is solid. It isn't going anywhere.
This is the same with my relationship with Christ. I want to serve Him and love Him and go where He wants me to go and do what He wants me to do. Not because I am afraid of going to hell, but because I want to. I have eyes for no other. I only want to be with Him and make Him happy.
There is a Dixie Chicks (yea yea.. I know... I used to like them before they bashed Toby Keith and Bush too..) song that sings about missing her love. "Looking back and longing for the freedom of my chains." This line has been ringing in my ears. Many times I have been asked why I would ever choose to be "chained" down to Christ and the rules and whatnot that goes along with Christianity. Well.. where some might see chains, I see freedom. Freedom from death, freedom from sin. I don't miss dating other people just as much as I don't miss the sinful life I was living before I was born again.
Romans 6:17-18 17 But thanks be to God that, though you used to be slaves to sin, you have come to obey from your heart the pattern of teaching that has now claimed your allegiance. 18 You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness.
"As a sinner, separated from God, you see his law from below, as a ladder to be climbed to get to God. Perhaps you have repeatedly tried to climb it, only to fall to the ground every time you had advanced one or two rungs. Or perhaps the sheer height of the ladder seems so overwhelming that you have never even started up. In either case, what relief you should feel to see Jesus offering with open arms to lift you above the ladder of the law, to take you directly to God! Once Jesus lifts you into God's presence, you are free to obey-- out of love, not necessity, and through God's power, not your own. You know that if you stumble, you will not fall back to the ground. Instead, you will be caught and held in Christ's loving arms."
Friday, September 7, 2012
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Tough Question....
My wonderful husband, Mike, asked me awhile ago, "What does it mean to 'pick up your cross and follow me'?" At the time I didn't really know how to answer that. I thought maybe it meant to let go of your worldly wants and desires and to live for Christ. To wake up every day making that choice again and again. I brushed the question off with that response thinking it sounded pretty good. This week, however, it has been ringing in my ears. So, finally, I decided to do some digging..
Matthew 16:24-26 Then Jesus said to his disciples, "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?"
What do these verses mean? Take up my cross? Lose my life? I found the answers! (http://www.gotquestions.org/take-up-your-cross.html) One thing we need to remember when reading this, is that Jesus was speaking these words in the 1st century. This was over 2000 years ago, people! Things were a whole lot different then than they are now! The cross is viewed quite differently these days. We hang it on our living room walls or around our necks to remind us of the great love that Christ has for us. It is a cherished symbol of forgiveness, love, grace, and redemption.
But 2000 years ago, this was NOT the case! The cross was carried on the backs on the criminals who were to be hung on them. They were forced to carry their cross through town and up to the hill where they were ultimately killed on them, facing ridicule the entire way. In the 1st century, the cross only meant one thing... "death by the most painful and humiliating means human beings could develop.""In Jesus day, the cross meant nothing but torturous death."
So what can we take from this perspective? What was Jesus trying to tell us in a 1st century setting?? That we must be willing to die to ourselves every day and follow Him. We must be able to let go of everything and anything and go with Him. This is not saying we will have to, but if we come to a place in our life where we are faced with a choice.. will we make the choice to follow Him? There are places in the world where these choices are an every day reality.
"Are you willing to follow Jesus if it means losing your friends, family, job, reputation, or even your life?" Could you give EVERYTHING up? Walk away from everything you have ever known? Your hopes, dreams, comforts, possessions.. leave it all behind to follow Christ?
This is a tough question. But take comfort in knowing the reward is worth the price. Remember...
Matthew 16:27 "For the Son of Man is going to come in his Father's glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person according to what they have done."
Matthew 16:24-26 Then Jesus said to his disciples, "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?"
What do these verses mean? Take up my cross? Lose my life? I found the answers! (http://www.gotquestions.org/take-up-your-cross.html) One thing we need to remember when reading this, is that Jesus was speaking these words in the 1st century. This was over 2000 years ago, people! Things were a whole lot different then than they are now! The cross is viewed quite differently these days. We hang it on our living room walls or around our necks to remind us of the great love that Christ has for us. It is a cherished symbol of forgiveness, love, grace, and redemption.
But 2000 years ago, this was NOT the case! The cross was carried on the backs on the criminals who were to be hung on them. They were forced to carry their cross through town and up to the hill where they were ultimately killed on them, facing ridicule the entire way. In the 1st century, the cross only meant one thing... "death by the most painful and humiliating means human beings could develop.""In Jesus day, the cross meant nothing but torturous death."So what can we take from this perspective? What was Jesus trying to tell us in a 1st century setting?? That we must be willing to die to ourselves every day and follow Him. We must be able to let go of everything and anything and go with Him. This is not saying we will have to, but if we come to a place in our life where we are faced with a choice.. will we make the choice to follow Him? There are places in the world where these choices are an every day reality.
"Are you willing to follow Jesus if it means losing your friends, family, job, reputation, or even your life?" Could you give EVERYTHING up? Walk away from everything you have ever known? Your hopes, dreams, comforts, possessions.. leave it all behind to follow Christ?
This is a tough question. But take comfort in knowing the reward is worth the price. Remember...
Matthew 16:27 "For the Son of Man is going to come in his Father's glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person according to what they have done."
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Stabilizing
Monday, August 6, 2012, I stood beside my husband as he made an oath to our country and to our family. An oath to protect us, stand up for us, and never stop fighting for our safety and well being. It was an honor to not only be able to stand beside the man that I love and respect to no end as he made these promises, but to also have him being sworn in by the Chief of Staff, General Odierno. This was not something that happens every day and it is definitely a day that will stay with us forever. The decision to re-enlist was not one we took lightly. When we first got married, it was not even an option to us. We had no interest in staying away from family for any longer than necessary, we did not want to endure another deployment, and we wanted to plant our roots and make a life that could make everyone else happy as well. Then, over the course of the past year, we have seen families get out of the Army only to have to sign up for welfare and wait in lines at the food shelf. Jobs are not easy to come by in today's economy. This is something everyone has to endure, not just the men and women who are getting out of the military. It is a harsh reality and many of our loved ones have struggled through interview after interview trying to desperately find employment in order to provide for their families. Do we want to risk the same fate? Do we want to have to sell all of our belongings and move into some one's basement with our 5 children until we can find something more stable financially?
So, we started praying. Asking God for guidance. Do we stay in and risk disappointing all of our loved ones, not to mention another deployment? Or should we get out and risk being homeless. After months of praying and seeking guidance from Him, it became increasingly clear that we needed to stay in the Army and guarantee our financial security. Mike waited until it felt right and finally was surprised to hear that they had changed some things up and were going to give him the rare opportunity to stabilize. This meant that he could stay at his current MOS (his job as a truck driver), and also it would guarantee him to stay here at Ft Stewart in his current unit. This was a good thing, because if he was going to have to deploy anyway, Mike really wanted to deploy with the men and women he has been working beside for the last year. (Can you blame him? Who wants to go into a war zone with strangers you can't trust?!) This would also be good for the girls and I because we have established friendships with people here that can help support us emotionally through this deployment. We have an incredible church that has been instrumental in bringing us a closeness with God that we never knew existed. Plus, the girls would be able to go to their same school for the second year in a row (unfortunately this is the first time we can say this..) Everything seemed to fall into place so perfectly that it couldn't be anything other than God.
This re-enlistment has to do with our financial security and stability for our family. It has nothing to do with anything other than Mike and I trying to find the best way to provide for our family. This is a good thing and although we know our loved ones are disappointed and upset, I genuinely hope that you can understand our decision. We know as a military family that sacrifice is inevitable. It is hard and it just plain sucks sometimes, but it is necessary and all we can do is get through it knowing that God is holding us each and every step of the way. I am no longer fearful of our future or anything that may come. I am faithful that God will provide us with everything we will need to get through as he has already proven.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Through the Fire
It was about 1am on Friday evening and the pain started. Slow and creepy like always. We had been staying up late all week so I hadn't gotten to sleep at all yet. I thought I would quick chase it away with a handful of Tums and a few shots of Maalox before it got too bad. I laid down and dozed off (I was exhausted from the day). About 45 minutes later I awoke because I couldn't breathe... again. I sat up and the pain was there in full force. I am told the pains are like that of a heart attack, but they don't go away. My right side of my belly was painful to even touch, I was short of breath and panting like a husky in 130 degree heat. My back was tense and throbbing and I couldn't lean back on a chair or pillow or anything because it completely took my breath away. I had done this a thousand times before over the past several months and started my routine of desperately trying to get rid of the pain. I drank about a half of a bottle of Maalox, took another handful of Tums, and got in the scalding hot shower. All I could do was grasp the shower curtain rod and sway side to side with the hot water pouring on my back and down the ride side of my ribs. This was horrid and I knew I was in for a long night.
The last three times this "heartburn" had happened, it lasted around 7 hours. The longest ever. Before that, the pain was always around 2 hours of pure hell. After 7 hours of pacing, several vomits, 6 showers, a scalding hot bath, and too much Maalox, Tylenol, and Tums... I was desperate... and exhausted like never before. I finally woke Mike up at about 8am. After sobbing to him about how God doesn't care about me and doesn't want to hear my prayers, I told him we needed to go to the hospital. This wasn't even subsiding and I KNEW this couldn't be heartburn. My mind raced with horrors of the baby being tangled in the umbilical cord and ripping the placenta off the wall of my uterus. This incredible pain HAD to be something serious like that... There is no way this was common, or nobody in their right mind would ever get pregnant. EVER! So my knight in shining pajama shorts jumped up and went to get the girls up and ready to go.
An hour later I was being rushed up to Labor and Delivery (the nurses were very worried by my frazzled and crazy look, I suppose). The moment I was in the room the nurse had me undress and told me to lay on the bed so she could hook me up to the monitors. I immediately began sobbing. There was no way I was going to be able to lay down, let alone have those things strapped to my belly! She was very concerned and got me into an upright position with the stupid monitors strapped on my painful belly. I explained what I was feeling in different terms (I had been at the hospital a week ago having the same pains and they dismissed it as heartburn and anxiety...). My blood pressure was higher than it had ever been in my life (shockingly) and she quickly had me hooked up to an I.V. and was giving me drugs for the nausea and pain. I asked her what pain meds and she explained it was the same meds they had given me last week that did NOTHING but make me even more tired ( I later was told from a surgeon that these meds are actually an anti-itch medication...hmm..). I sobbed some more feeling hopeless and knowing they weren't going to actually help me... again.
The doctor ordered an ultrasound assuming this must be kidney stones. Down in radiology I was in a dark room panting and choking back my tears when this tech walked in. She was not dressed in a white flowing gown, nor was she wearing a halo and floating to the sound of harps... but she introduced herself as Angel. I chuckled and told her she was my last hope and if her name was a clue... I was starting to see some light again. During the ultrasound (which hurt like hell!) she saw my kidneys looked fine. She asked me what was going on and after I explained, she asked if the doctors had mentioned my gallbladder. I said no, as they hadn't even mentioned it. She decided to look on her own, and lo and behold... my Angel discovered my problem.
After 11 hours of the worst pain of my life (not to mention the several months of mis-diagnosed horror), I finally had answers. And proper meds. My pain was gone and I was about falling over exhausted as never before. They admitted me and after several discussions with doctors and nurses, and 3 days of room service and cable.. I was released to go home to hopefully find some tidbit of joy in the last part of my last pregnancy. I was given pain meds in case of an "attack" and some other pill to take to hopefully ward off "attacks" all together. I have answers. I have hope. And most of all, I have had a revelation.
I was in darkness and so deeply immersed in pain I had never known (after several kids...) and I was tested. Big time. I had lost faith. I felt abandoned by the one who I knew would never leave me. I spent hour after hour asking for forgiveness for everything I had ever done, pleading for God to take this from me and give me some relief, and finally giving up. I decided that God was punishing me for something and I couldn't think of what. But later, as I lay in the hospital bed in silence with no pain and a clear head, I realized that God didn't want me in pain and that is exactly why I had to endure the last 11 hours. Had I not gone though so much that night, I would have brushed it off as heartburn like I had been doing for several months. I would have kept taking pills and meds that weren't doing anything because they were trying to treat something I didn't have. I had to get to a point where I would break. Where I would give up and beg for help. He kept me in the fire until the exact right time. Until I was able to go in to the hospital when the doctor was working who didn't think it was heartburn, and the ultrasound tech (my Angel) was there to uncover the truth. Had I not endured so much and went in to the hospital, I would still be dealing with these attacks for the next 4 weeks.
Moral of my horror story? Sometimes God puts us through the fire. We may not understand why, and we may hate every second of it. But we have to keep the faith that He knows exactly what he is doing and why. He sees the bigger picture, where we can only see what is right in front of us. He would never have put me through that hell just for laughs. He was waiting for me to be ready and He pulled me out at the exact right moment. Praise Him for being faithful and true. I have the joy of knowing He is with me and He will NEVER forget or abandon me.
The last three times this "heartburn" had happened, it lasted around 7 hours. The longest ever. Before that, the pain was always around 2 hours of pure hell. After 7 hours of pacing, several vomits, 6 showers, a scalding hot bath, and too much Maalox, Tylenol, and Tums... I was desperate... and exhausted like never before. I finally woke Mike up at about 8am. After sobbing to him about how God doesn't care about me and doesn't want to hear my prayers, I told him we needed to go to the hospital. This wasn't even subsiding and I KNEW this couldn't be heartburn. My mind raced with horrors of the baby being tangled in the umbilical cord and ripping the placenta off the wall of my uterus. This incredible pain HAD to be something serious like that... There is no way this was common, or nobody in their right mind would ever get pregnant. EVER! So my knight in shining pajama shorts jumped up and went to get the girls up and ready to go.
An hour later I was being rushed up to Labor and Delivery (the nurses were very worried by my frazzled and crazy look, I suppose). The moment I was in the room the nurse had me undress and told me to lay on the bed so she could hook me up to the monitors. I immediately began sobbing. There was no way I was going to be able to lay down, let alone have those things strapped to my belly! She was very concerned and got me into an upright position with the stupid monitors strapped on my painful belly. I explained what I was feeling in different terms (I had been at the hospital a week ago having the same pains and they dismissed it as heartburn and anxiety...). My blood pressure was higher than it had ever been in my life (shockingly) and she quickly had me hooked up to an I.V. and was giving me drugs for the nausea and pain. I asked her what pain meds and she explained it was the same meds they had given me last week that did NOTHING but make me even more tired ( I later was told from a surgeon that these meds are actually an anti-itch medication...hmm..). I sobbed some more feeling hopeless and knowing they weren't going to actually help me... again.
The doctor ordered an ultrasound assuming this must be kidney stones. Down in radiology I was in a dark room panting and choking back my tears when this tech walked in. She was not dressed in a white flowing gown, nor was she wearing a halo and floating to the sound of harps... but she introduced herself as Angel. I chuckled and told her she was my last hope and if her name was a clue... I was starting to see some light again. During the ultrasound (which hurt like hell!) she saw my kidneys looked fine. She asked me what was going on and after I explained, she asked if the doctors had mentioned my gallbladder. I said no, as they hadn't even mentioned it. She decided to look on her own, and lo and behold... my Angel discovered my problem.
After 11 hours of the worst pain of my life (not to mention the several months of mis-diagnosed horror), I finally had answers. And proper meds. My pain was gone and I was about falling over exhausted as never before. They admitted me and after several discussions with doctors and nurses, and 3 days of room service and cable.. I was released to go home to hopefully find some tidbit of joy in the last part of my last pregnancy. I was given pain meds in case of an "attack" and some other pill to take to hopefully ward off "attacks" all together. I have answers. I have hope. And most of all, I have had a revelation.
I was in darkness and so deeply immersed in pain I had never known (after several kids...) and I was tested. Big time. I had lost faith. I felt abandoned by the one who I knew would never leave me. I spent hour after hour asking for forgiveness for everything I had ever done, pleading for God to take this from me and give me some relief, and finally giving up. I decided that God was punishing me for something and I couldn't think of what. But later, as I lay in the hospital bed in silence with no pain and a clear head, I realized that God didn't want me in pain and that is exactly why I had to endure the last 11 hours. Had I not gone though so much that night, I would have brushed it off as heartburn like I had been doing for several months. I would have kept taking pills and meds that weren't doing anything because they were trying to treat something I didn't have. I had to get to a point where I would break. Where I would give up and beg for help. He kept me in the fire until the exact right time. Until I was able to go in to the hospital when the doctor was working who didn't think it was heartburn, and the ultrasound tech (my Angel) was there to uncover the truth. Had I not endured so much and went in to the hospital, I would still be dealing with these attacks for the next 4 weeks.
Moral of my horror story? Sometimes God puts us through the fire. We may not understand why, and we may hate every second of it. But we have to keep the faith that He knows exactly what he is doing and why. He sees the bigger picture, where we can only see what is right in front of us. He would never have put me through that hell just for laughs. He was waiting for me to be ready and He pulled me out at the exact right moment. Praise Him for being faithful and true. I have the joy of knowing He is with me and He will NEVER forget or abandon me.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Survival
SIDE NOTE: So, I realize that I had a bit of a freak out last night. I apologize for my outburst of negativity, especially to my husband who endured the worst of it. A few days ago something happened and my right hip has been killing me ever since. It is usually something I can do my best to ignore and go through my day. Yesterday, however, it got real bad much earlier than normal and I was rushing to the bathtub for a scalding hot bath before Mike and Sophia were even finished with their dinner. The HOT bubble bath was spectacular! I didn't feel any pain whatsoever while I was in it. Problem is... I got dizzy and lightheaded and was pretty sure I was going to pass out and drown... no good. So I got out. 4 extra strength Tylenol and a hubby hip massage later, it was still killing me. I was panicking and a little devil started whispering in my ear and reminding me that I still have 7 weeks left of this.. 7 WEEKS!!!! I didn't know how I would survive the night let alone 7 more freaking weeks! It seemed so big and I felt so defeated and miserable. Luckily I somehow fell asleep and slept pretty good through the night.
This morning I woke to my wonderful hubby doing what he always does, kissing me goodbye and telling me he loves me. This is a ritual that has become part of our everyday. I have come to depend on those seemingly insignificant 2 seconds of my day. It reminds me that it is a new day. That Mike still loves me. That God isn't done with me yet. I had forgotten all the pain I had endured the night before and just laid there basking in the "everyday love" I am so blessed to receive from my best friend in this world. I realized that I usually wake slightly and then go right back to sleep when he leaves the room. I take this 2 seconds for granted. What happened if tomorrow he didn't kiss me goodbye? What if tomorrow he didn't tell me loved me on his way to work?
I know being a military wife, this is a harsh reality. At some point (sometimes several points) we have to endure several months or more of our husbands not falling asleep or waking up next to us. It becomes apart of our lives and we deal with it. We do the best we can with what we have and we move forward. But, I think we are able to appreciate the 2 second goodbye kisses in the morning maybe a little bit better than the average married couple. I think we learn to appreciate the random texts through out the day reminding us that he loves us so much and thinks we are the most beautiful thing. And we mind picking up his dirty socks a little less.
Most of the time we treat our relationships like there is a tomorrow. Like we can always apologize later, or tell them we love them later. We have tomorrow or next week to show them we care. What if tomorrow doesn't come? What if today is all you have? Maybe we won't go to bed mad anymore? Maybe we won't put off for tomorrow what should be said or done today? Maybe we will take an extra few minutes to appreciate what we have? Maybe I will stop "surviving" this pregnancy and start doing the best I can to enjoy it, being that it is my last?
Maybe we should all stop "surviving" our lives and start living them. Stop trying to hurry and get through the day or get through our child's terrible 2's phase. Stop rushing through life and slow down enough to see what we actually have. The blessings that have been given us as a gift. Our jobs, our families, our husbands and wives, our friends and neighbors. These are things many people don't have, but pray for every day.
This morning I woke to my wonderful hubby doing what he always does, kissing me goodbye and telling me he loves me. This is a ritual that has become part of our everyday. I have come to depend on those seemingly insignificant 2 seconds of my day. It reminds me that it is a new day. That Mike still loves me. That God isn't done with me yet. I had forgotten all the pain I had endured the night before and just laid there basking in the "everyday love" I am so blessed to receive from my best friend in this world. I realized that I usually wake slightly and then go right back to sleep when he leaves the room. I take this 2 seconds for granted. What happened if tomorrow he didn't kiss me goodbye? What if tomorrow he didn't tell me loved me on his way to work?
I know being a military wife, this is a harsh reality. At some point (sometimes several points) we have to endure several months or more of our husbands not falling asleep or waking up next to us. It becomes apart of our lives and we deal with it. We do the best we can with what we have and we move forward. But, I think we are able to appreciate the 2 second goodbye kisses in the morning maybe a little bit better than the average married couple. I think we learn to appreciate the random texts through out the day reminding us that he loves us so much and thinks we are the most beautiful thing. And we mind picking up his dirty socks a little less.
Most of the time we treat our relationships like there is a tomorrow. Like we can always apologize later, or tell them we love them later. We have tomorrow or next week to show them we care. What if tomorrow doesn't come? What if today is all you have? Maybe we won't go to bed mad anymore? Maybe we won't put off for tomorrow what should be said or done today? Maybe we will take an extra few minutes to appreciate what we have? Maybe I will stop "surviving" this pregnancy and start doing the best I can to enjoy it, being that it is my last?
Maybe we should all stop "surviving" our lives and start living them. Stop trying to hurry and get through the day or get through our child's terrible 2's phase. Stop rushing through life and slow down enough to see what we actually have. The blessings that have been given us as a gift. Our jobs, our families, our husbands and wives, our friends and neighbors. These are things many people don't have, but pray for every day.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Lila Ruth
I remember it like it was yesterday. I was scheduled for my first routine cesarean section (Grace had been an emergency c-section). I was scared as all get out, because it was also my first military birth. I had heard that my OB was an extremely good doctor, although I am pretty sure he slept through the bedside manner part of his schooling (he was a HUGE jerk!!). I was 38 weeks along and at Trident Hospital in Charleston, SC. I was getting all prepped and ready for surgery and things were nervous, but exciting at the same time. They told my husband (now ex) to wait outside the operating room until they had me all prepped and ready. The anaesthesiologist came in and looked VERY tired, but seemed like he knew what he was doing. This was my first spinal block and I was nervous, but had 2 epidurals in the past and was confident it was going to go smoothly. He tried a total of THREE times before he finally got it right and gave me the medication into my spine. (This mistake wound up causing me a spinal headache and 2 weeks of laying COMPLETELY flat (not even a pillow)...) The OB waited a few minutes and then poked me, I could still feel him, so they had the bed tipped and I swear I was upside down and almost on the floor! Finally it was numb enough that I was able to endure the surgery and stop sobbing in pain. My husband came in and sat next to me and after a few minutes we heard her cry for the first time. When we finally saw her, she was so amazing! Chubby and bald and wonderful. 
She was my first bald child and my first child to take to breastfeeding like it was something we had been doing together for years. We named her Lila (a beautiful old lady name) Ruth (my great-grandma and my mom's middle name). From the day we brought her home she was nothing but a complete joy. She was beyond easy and happy as the day is long! As an infant she would wake in her crib and just play with her hands and feet until I woke up and went in to get her. When I walked in she would greet me with the biggest smile in the world! Her dad always called her a bass because she had this huge and silent smile that took up her whole face. When I was sad or crying she would crawl up to me and start giggling or making funny noises to make me laugh. Once I stopped crying, she would go back to playing.
Lila has always brightened the room when she enters it and I believe she always will. Her personality is one that draws people to her and her heart is so pure and loving. Since she was a baby she has loved to make people laugh. To this day, the crazy things she says and does make everyone giggle. She is a natural genius (I am not surprised being that her father is too). Everything comes so easy to her and I am confident she will be an honor roll student in the future. At 2 years old she baffled people at how she could clearly sing every word to 'Lovin Touchin Squeezin' by Journey. The girl can still memorize about any song she hears more than once. 
I am so glad to have been blessed by being the one to be Lila's mommy. I adore and love her so much and the past 6 years have been an absolute joy with her. I am humbled that I was put in charge of raising one of God's finest creations. Happy birthday to my sweet, funny, and kinda crazy Lila Ruth. I love you more than this blog could ever describe.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Christ-Like
My children attend an AWANA program every Wednesday evening during the school year at a local church here in Hinesville. I love how much of the Bible my children have been learning and I love the people who are committing to be there every week to teach them. I have, however, come across a couple of people who have been very cold and rude to me (I don't think they are this way to my girls, though..). I am unsure if I have offended them in some way, or if they maybe just don't like me. But, either way, John 13:35 continues to pop in my head. It is a beautiful and short verse that explains how, as a Christian, you don't have to wear a sign or walk around bashing people on the head with the Bible. People will know you are a Christian by your love for one another. How you treat others with kindness and love. Even those who are strangers, and even more so, those who are your "enemies". If I didn't know these people are involved in their church and actively volunteer with the children, I would have guessed they didn't know Jesus at all.
The message today at church definitely coincides with this. What I am saying to others and how I am treating others (especially those who I may not enjoy being around or who seem to constantly irritate me) is a direct reflection of my love and relationship with Christ. If I am truly walking with the Lord and following Christ, then I should be treating people as I would my own family. We are all family in Christ and as different as we are, we need to love each other in spite of our differences. We are not worthy to judge or condemn. We were made to love. So that old saying mom always repeated, "think before you speak", will be in the forefront of my mind and I hope yours too.
I have continued to be amazing by the love and generosity I am witnessing here in Georgia. The wonderful people I am meeting through Restoration Church has changed my outlook on people and the relationships I have with them. "Southern Hospitality" has nothing to do with it (as most of these people are military and aren't actually from here), but Jesus is the one responsible. NO doubt in my mind.
My family has been overwhelmed with blessings from people who range from close friends, all the way to perfect strangers. I look at the accumulating pile of baby items that were generously given to us, and I am amazed. The average Joe would have sold these things and could have made quite a bit of money on them. But, these God-fearing people just want to love on us and help us out. We were given an extremely generous blessing the other day that goes to show how God moves and works and always provides. This blessing was anonymous, which bothered me at first because I sincerely wanted to thank them and tell them what is means for us. But, I realize, that this "anonymous" didn't do it for the glory, but rather to give the glory to God. Therefore, it has been God who has been getting the thanks from me. The one who deserves it most.
We are so blessed to be here and be witnessing the amazing power of the Holy Spirit working in people's lives. To be the direct target of it so often is overwhelming and humbling. We do not deserve this, but we will do whatever we can to serve and love on others as we are constantly being loved on. Praise HIM for all he is doing for us. We are "grateful lovers at your feet".
The message today at church definitely coincides with this. What I am saying to others and how I am treating others (especially those who I may not enjoy being around or who seem to constantly irritate me) is a direct reflection of my love and relationship with Christ. If I am truly walking with the Lord and following Christ, then I should be treating people as I would my own family. We are all family in Christ and as different as we are, we need to love each other in spite of our differences. We are not worthy to judge or condemn. We were made to love. So that old saying mom always repeated, "think before you speak", will be in the forefront of my mind and I hope yours too.
I have continued to be amazing by the love and generosity I am witnessing here in Georgia. The wonderful people I am meeting through Restoration Church has changed my outlook on people and the relationships I have with them. "Southern Hospitality" has nothing to do with it (as most of these people are military and aren't actually from here), but Jesus is the one responsible. NO doubt in my mind.
My family has been overwhelmed with blessings from people who range from close friends, all the way to perfect strangers. I look at the accumulating pile of baby items that were generously given to us, and I am amazed. The average Joe would have sold these things and could have made quite a bit of money on them. But, these God-fearing people just want to love on us and help us out. We were given an extremely generous blessing the other day that goes to show how God moves and works and always provides. This blessing was anonymous, which bothered me at first because I sincerely wanted to thank them and tell them what is means for us. But, I realize, that this "anonymous" didn't do it for the glory, but rather to give the glory to God. Therefore, it has been God who has been getting the thanks from me. The one who deserves it most.
We are so blessed to be here and be witnessing the amazing power of the Holy Spirit working in people's lives. To be the direct target of it so often is overwhelming and humbling. We do not deserve this, but we will do whatever we can to serve and love on others as we are constantly being loved on. Praise HIM for all he is doing for us. We are "grateful lovers at your feet".
Annoying VS Blessing
On Friday I was laying down during Sophia's nap time, trying to sleep. I have been so fatigued lately and just feeling exhausted and run down all the time. Unfortunately, I also have a mind that won't stop running! So as I lay there, my mind racing with millions of things that I have to accomplish before this baby arrives, I decided that I needed to get up and do something. Being super broke, I decided to go through the ginormous tote of clothes that I have been saving for a yard sale, and try to sell them online.
As I am sorting the sizes and posting them for sale online, I begin receiving emails from wanting moms. This started my entire day of meeting some great women with incredible stories to tell. One woman came to get some clothes for her daughter is turning 5 this month. She told me about how her daughter has leukemia and so they didn't really know what to expect. I promised I would pray for her and I will continue praying for their family.
Another woman (only 23 years old) had a newborn baby girl and a 3 year old daughter as well. She was referring to her newborn as her "miracle baby" and explained to me how her and her husband had lost a son. When I inquired more, she explained how at a 21 week ultrasound, they were devastated to find out that their son was missing half of his brain and head.
I have been realizing the gifts the Lord has blessed me with, one of them being resiliency. I have endured some terrible events in my life, and in spite of the odds, have not been left with a cold and hardened heart. But, could I handle something like this? Losing one of my children? I pray to God that he never tests me on this. Meeting these women have opened my eyes to the little things I don't thank God for. When they are running around with more energy than a hurricane, I get annoyed and frustrated and tell them to go run it off outside. When my two year old wants me to sing her yet ANOTHER song before bed and my back is killing me and all I want is to be in my own bed. When they are stubborn, strong willed, energetic, repetitive, and seem to always be where I don't want them to be (ie: following me into the bathroom...). I have realized how empty and dark my life would be without all of these wonderful traits that I don't appreciate. I know that if something tragic happened, I would be begging for them to be able to bust in on my showers.
So yesterday I was tired and worn out, but I knew it was the last day we would get to spend with Gracie as a family before she leaves for Minnesota. She wanted to go to the pool and stay up late playing games as a family. How in the world could I say no to this? And you know what? I had a blast at the pool! It was super fun and I even got a little sun on my ridiculously white skin! I made Gracie's favorite dinner and got struck with heartburn right after. It was short lived, as I am pretty sure God wanted us to play monopoly too : ) Heartburn leaves me exhausted and drained, not to mention my back was killing me. But Gracie's wanted to play monopoly with us. I would've rather been in bed... but I played. Of course, I had a blast playing too! Mike and Grace are hilarious with how they pick at each other and tease each other. It is like a modern day 3 stooges watching them (only there's 2..).
The moral of this story? I have learned to find blessings where I used to find annoyance. I have learned to appreciate what I have ignored, and to say "Thank you Jesus!" for these things. I will not take my children for granted and I will not pass up an opportunity to spend more time with them. Along with my husband, they are my most treasured on this Earth. I look forward to what today brings and I pray you do too.
As I am sorting the sizes and posting them for sale online, I begin receiving emails from wanting moms. This started my entire day of meeting some great women with incredible stories to tell. One woman came to get some clothes for her daughter is turning 5 this month. She told me about how her daughter has leukemia and so they didn't really know what to expect. I promised I would pray for her and I will continue praying for their family.
Another woman (only 23 years old) had a newborn baby girl and a 3 year old daughter as well. She was referring to her newborn as her "miracle baby" and explained to me how her and her husband had lost a son. When I inquired more, she explained how at a 21 week ultrasound, they were devastated to find out that their son was missing half of his brain and head.
I have been realizing the gifts the Lord has blessed me with, one of them being resiliency. I have endured some terrible events in my life, and in spite of the odds, have not been left with a cold and hardened heart. But, could I handle something like this? Losing one of my children? I pray to God that he never tests me on this. Meeting these women have opened my eyes to the little things I don't thank God for. When they are running around with more energy than a hurricane, I get annoyed and frustrated and tell them to go run it off outside. When my two year old wants me to sing her yet ANOTHER song before bed and my back is killing me and all I want is to be in my own bed. When they are stubborn, strong willed, energetic, repetitive, and seem to always be where I don't want them to be (ie: following me into the bathroom...). I have realized how empty and dark my life would be without all of these wonderful traits that I don't appreciate. I know that if something tragic happened, I would be begging for them to be able to bust in on my showers.
So yesterday I was tired and worn out, but I knew it was the last day we would get to spend with Gracie as a family before she leaves for Minnesota. She wanted to go to the pool and stay up late playing games as a family. How in the world could I say no to this? And you know what? I had a blast at the pool! It was super fun and I even got a little sun on my ridiculously white skin! I made Gracie's favorite dinner and got struck with heartburn right after. It was short lived, as I am pretty sure God wanted us to play monopoly too : ) Heartburn leaves me exhausted and drained, not to mention my back was killing me. But Gracie's wanted to play monopoly with us. I would've rather been in bed... but I played. Of course, I had a blast playing too! Mike and Grace are hilarious with how they pick at each other and tease each other. It is like a modern day 3 stooges watching them (only there's 2..).
The moral of this story? I have learned to find blessings where I used to find annoyance. I have learned to appreciate what I have ignored, and to say "Thank you Jesus!" for these things. I will not take my children for granted and I will not pass up an opportunity to spend more time with them. Along with my husband, they are my most treasured on this Earth. I look forward to what today brings and I pray you do too.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
This Thing Called Blogging
Soo today marks the beginning of my blogging adventures. I am growing tired of Facebook and all the drama and disgusting "likes" I constantly see on there. It makes me want to delete most everyone on there, however, I am aware this will only cause more drama. It isn't that I don't love and adore my family and friends, it is just that I don't always agree with how they are portraying themselves with their activity on facebook. "Liking" all these pictures of people making out and half naked.. hmm.. do people not know what this is making themselves look like? Whatever happend to class and modesty? I understand some sweet quotes are great and all, but if its included with a picture of a guy groping a girl up her skirt... maybe we should just copy the quote instead of "liking" the picture, eh? I am at a point where my 10 year old daughter is going to have a lot less people on her facebook, including kids her age, because of things like this. It is sad and disheartening seeing what our youth is doing and becoming invloved in. I pray my girls keep their innocense as long as is humanly possible, and if that means Luci gets no friends on facebook.. so be it.
I am told that my facebook page is important to people in my family as we are living across the country from everyone. It is important for them to keep up to date with what is happening with the girls and our family, as well as see pictures of us all. This is why I have created this blog. I can keep everyone up on what we are doing and hang on to facebook for uploading pictures. Thanks for reading my rant and I pray you know I am not judging anyone, this is just for my own personal preference. Love yous guys : )
I am told that my facebook page is important to people in my family as we are living across the country from everyone. It is important for them to keep up to date with what is happening with the girls and our family, as well as see pictures of us all. This is why I have created this blog. I can keep everyone up on what we are doing and hang on to facebook for uploading pictures. Thanks for reading my rant and I pray you know I am not judging anyone, this is just for my own personal preference. Love yous guys : )
Another Rainy Summer Day
The past few days have been rainy and dreary. Not so good for a busy 2 year old and an easily bored 8 year old. On top of the weather dillema, there is also that whole money thing.. you know, where I have none. Half of Mike's paycheck has gone to Gracie's plane ticket to bring her to MN to spend the summer with her dad. However, she doesn't leave until next Tuesday, which means I have to find ways to entertain her without her normal friends (Luci and Lila), and without money. This was going to bring us to the splash parks in housing. We went a couple of times already, and although it was short lived both times, it was fun nonetheless. But, with the rain, we are trapped in this prison we also call home.
Yesterday was a rough day. I was so incredibly cranky and couldn't, for the longest time, pinpoint why. It was when Mike came home that I realized how bad it was. I was instantly terrible and horrible and mean. Was it because I was jealous that he gets to leave this house and associate with other adults? Was it because he was complaining of how rough he was having it and I wanted to scream that I had it worse? Or was it maybe just the typical pregnancy hormones creeping up on me again, threatening to destroy everyone in their path?
After Mike left I was laying in bed attempting a nap to chill myself out and starting praying. Asking God to help me relax and realize why the heck I was being so wretched. The only thing that came to mind was banana bread. God was telling me to get my butt up and bake with my daughter. I went and grabbed her out of her room and the two of us made our way to the kitchen. I was relaxed and let her do just about everything. With the exception of a few things, Gracie made the 4 batches of banana bread on her own. It was nice to spend time with her, but the best part was the immense joy and satisfaction she got out of it.
I realized while the bread was baking and Gracie was applying load after load of make up to my face (making me look like I should be wearing a price tag.. but of course I "loved it and thought it was so beautiful") that instead of dwelling on why I was cranky and what to do about it, God distracted me and helped me to just move forward. In moving forward I realized I was just going stir crazy and needed to find some fun. I apologized to Mike for being so nasty and decided I was going to stop looking at my home like a prison and start appreciating the things we can do here.
Yesterday was a rough day. I was so incredibly cranky and couldn't, for the longest time, pinpoint why. It was when Mike came home that I realized how bad it was. I was instantly terrible and horrible and mean. Was it because I was jealous that he gets to leave this house and associate with other adults? Was it because he was complaining of how rough he was having it and I wanted to scream that I had it worse? Or was it maybe just the typical pregnancy hormones creeping up on me again, threatening to destroy everyone in their path?
After Mike left I was laying in bed attempting a nap to chill myself out and starting praying. Asking God to help me relax and realize why the heck I was being so wretched. The only thing that came to mind was banana bread. God was telling me to get my butt up and bake with my daughter. I went and grabbed her out of her room and the two of us made our way to the kitchen. I was relaxed and let her do just about everything. With the exception of a few things, Gracie made the 4 batches of banana bread on her own. It was nice to spend time with her, but the best part was the immense joy and satisfaction she got out of it.
I realized while the bread was baking and Gracie was applying load after load of make up to my face (making me look like I should be wearing a price tag.. but of course I "loved it and thought it was so beautiful") that instead of dwelling on why I was cranky and what to do about it, God distracted me and helped me to just move forward. In moving forward I realized I was just going stir crazy and needed to find some fun. I apologized to Mike for being so nasty and decided I was going to stop looking at my home like a prison and start appreciating the things we can do here.
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