In Case You'd Like to Know...

People in my life will attest to the fact that I have a tendency to "over-share" rather than keep things quiet. Sometimes this is a downfall, but other times it is a blessing. I battle with boundaries from time-to-time and would normally rather you know too much about me rather than be left in the dark. This might not be true in large groups, or with everyone in the world, but I aspire to live a life in the light and not in the shadows. Yet as I've matured, I've come to learn the value of privacy and it's place at the right time. My tendency to share too much is part of what makes this post so much harder to start...

Today I read a blog post of a friend sharing about her miscarriage last fall. We aren't close friends, but it was a beautiful post; the kind that will cause many to cry and leave everyone wanting to literally hug the author. She waited an appropriate amount of time to announce her pregnancy to the world and then miscarried. We all mourn differently, and over something so precious and exciting as a new life, I do not feel that we have any idea of how to process this, privately or publicly. The day she wrote her post, was her original due date. That was a hard day. She had shared of the many hard days she had experienced since first learning she would miscarry. Hard days which included when others were announcing their pregnancies on Facebook. And my heart skipped. My heart skipped because I understood. I understood all too well and I couldn't figure out how to explain it all. My story is not the same as hers, but her words helped to remind my heart and to verbalize something I couldn't.

Last September, I wrote a blog post regarding my(our) very personal struggle in trying to conceive a child for nearly a year. I had just started grad school and had just found out I was pregnant. It was a daunting task, but I was full of optimism and ready for the challenge. It was during that year of trying to conceive where I'd first learned about those hard days. Friends announcing pregnancies and sharing their struggles and weekly progressions. It wasn't that they were doing anything wrong, it was just that I'd never imagined that a simple joyful post could be hurtful. The post that I wrote last fall told you I was pregnant and that I wouldn't be sharing it on facebook directly. I didn't (and don't) think it was wrong or bad to share it on Facebook, I just couldn't do it. I'm not sure what kept me from publishing that post, because we've never waited to share the news before, but something kept me waiting. And two days before my 30th birthday I suspected something wasn't right. Thankfully, my doctor listened and had me come in right away. I was diagnosed with a blighted ovum, nothing was growing. At 8 & 9 weeks nothing was found, no baby, no fetal pole, nothing.

Since that time, I've shared my story with many people I've seen in person. But for the most part, I've struggled with how to share about a loss when no one knew anything of any of the life or the hope in the first place. I know of many people who have never shared of any of their heartbreaking miscarriage(s) or struggles to conceive. And I don't think that's wrong or less than or ANYTHING. I don't think that every woman/couple needs to acknowledge this on facebook or a blog or anywhere in cyberspace. But, I do think we need to share even our most intimate struggles with a few people. And, if she is willing, I'm certain that sharing with a broader audience may bring healing to more than she would expect.

I don't think that I could have just shared any of this with you had the issue not been forced. For my friend, it was the passing of her due date. That day came and went on my calendar without my ever noticing---in part, because of my mom's health and also due to graduate school (these are stories all on their own!), but biggest reason I never noticed that date is because I am pregnant again. I haven't announced it to cyberspace because, well, this is where I still struggle...

I feel guilty for not shouting from the mountaintops. I feel as though it suggests that I am still not sure that everything will work out, or that I am not ecstatic or thrilled or blessed beyond words, but I AM! I suppose I have not announced it because I still don't know who is secretly mourning or hurting or trying to conceive. Certainly I am not responsible for the hardship others are going through or the journey they are on. And even if we are not close enough for me to know their struggles, I still feel burdened by them. In my hormonal and emotional state, I am keenly aware that life hurts.
Life is painful; dreadfully painful at times for each and every one of us.

The contrast to this pain is that life is beautiful. It is a tragedy, a comedy, a treasure and a struggle. It is every imaginable contrast. And ultimately, I have nothing more than...

Life is a miracle.

Our newest miracle is due three days before my 31st birthday.

Enjoy.

*Over the past few weeks I have found myself in a position which I did not quite know how to handle... in which I would see a friend at the store or out running errands and realize they had no idea that I am 24 weeks pregnant because we haven't spoken directly or seen each other in person! This scenario is far stranger than I had realized it might become. 

Waiting

Waiting.  Ugh.

Of all the things I've done, I can easily say that waiting is the hardest thing to DO.
When you're given no choice but to WAIT.
You are forced against the mirror and every frailty of your humanity is glaring back at you.
You are a small child begging, pleading & whining. WAAAAAAAAH!
You are miserable in that interim.
But deep within you realize there's a purpose in the waiting.

With every fiber of your being you try to get off of that emotional roller-coaster and settle yourself.

You TRY to be good at waiting.

You busy and distract yourself with anything that will ease the agony of each and every moment.

But each attempt at escaping proves futile.


And that's how it's supposed to be. Yup. I said it. When we're waiting, we're being forced to surrender. COMPLETELY. Whatever it is we're waiting on… that event is out of our control.

We have a lot of control in the little things in life. I can listen to the music I like, I can see who's calling, skip commercials, call ahead for my seat, click a few buttons and have just about anything sent to my door the next day. All of these perks spoil me, and create two obvious problems. First, they give me the illusion that I have control in life. Beyond my attitude and beliefs, I truly have very, very little control over A-NY-TH-I-NG. Secondly, they also place a huge emphasis on the importance of comfort. Waiting is not comfortable. Waiting in pain is even more unbearable. But does that mean that waiting is only torture? Nope.

The way we can be ministered to in our misery is incredible. There are things God wants to show us, through people, through songs, words, in His word, and we are so open and willing to receive them with open eyes and ears when we are WAITING. We may experience emotions so powerful we never thought our hearts could hold them, or we may hear a quiet word we're never meant to share. The beauty of waiting is in the way we are hanging on every word,  holding our breath, the way that time stands still, and what can be found in those eternal moments.

I'm grateful for how miserable I felt waiting most recently. Had it not been so hard, the journey through it all would not remain vivd. Walking away from those months of desperation, I've missed how dependent I was forced to be. Complete reliance on God's strength is the only reason I slept most nights during that time. Don't get me wrong, I'm not signing up to wait on any major life event. But I do want my essence to live in waiting on God. I want my soul to rest and wait upon Him, remembering that every breath is from Him. I hope that you realize that your period of waiting has a purpose outside of your limited perspective. Somewhere down the line, you'll be able to say, "It wasn't all for nothing!"


I'll leave with a scripture. I was going to only leave Psalm 130, but 131 is one of my favorite songs by Waterdeep and I like how they flow together. And let's not forget these are songs of ascent---You're going UP!
(Italics mine)

Psalm 130
A song of ascents.
1 Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord;
2 Lord, hear my voice.
Let your ears be attentive
to my cry for mercy.
3 If you, Lord, kept a record of sins,
Lord, who could stand?
4 But with you there is forgiveness,
so that we can, with reverence, serve you.
5 I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,
and in his word I put my hope.6 I wait for the Lord
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.
7 Israel, put your hope in the Lord,
for with the Lord is unfailing love
and with him is full redemption.
8 He himself will redeem Israel
from all their sins.

Psalm 131
A song of ascents. Of David.
1 My heart is not proud, Lord,
my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.
2 But I have calmed and quieted myself,
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.
3 Israel, put your hope in the Lord
both now and forevermore.


Enjoy (the wait).

Hope Gleaned. Thoughts on Friendship.

There's more. But this is all I can muster up.

Life's so F U L L. Full of chaos. Full of change.

Full of garbage. Full of all the things we don't need. 

But it's also filled with things we do need. 

Filled with peace and love and HOPE. 

I have recently had the pleasure of having some very memorable conversations. Some of them were deep, some of them were awesome, and some were just raw life. I wrote a few days ago about my friendships and even since then things have blossomed. And I'm grateful. Some dear friends are going through some very intense times and I've had them on my mind. A LOT. But, I'm not worried about them, I know they will be fine. But they have certainly been heavy on my heart. HEAVY. The beautiful thing? Instead of being ready to run for the hills and pray they don't call me, hoping that they make it out alive without dragging me into their drama, I've been so drawn to them. I want to call them and text them and plan a sleepover just like when we were younger.

I used to think that the friendships you had as a kid would always be close to your heart... After all, during those awkward teen years, who could know you any better? They went through the highs and lows WITH you. Those were the years of my truest friendships. There were no boys to seperate us. No fiance's or husbands, no screaming infants or blabbing children. There were very few bills to pay and meals to cook (chips & salsa is considered a meal, right?). There were the endless hours on the phone and sleepless nights where we contemplated every possibility of the future. There were poems and singing, O glorious singing!

I was as real as I could possibly be during those years and I've carried away a wealth of treasure from them. But despite those blessings, as I began to navigate adulthood, I began to question whether or not that same level of depth could ever develop (or be sustained) later in life. They WERE close to my heart, but could that ever return to present-tense?

Recently, I've concluded that the beauty of childhood friends is not lost with the responsibilites of adulthood. It can be. It can mean that we push each other away. It can mean that we are more worried about the laundry and dishes than connections. It can mean not fully disclosing ourselves, our hopes, our fears. We can choose to stop asking our friends the big (read: heavy) questions. We can choose to hide our biggest failures and frustrations. We can hide behind a myriad of walls (jobs, spouse, media, activities etc.). We can, very easily, make sure we don't have time to invest in each other. We can pretend that things are so different and we are so different.
But we aren't. 
And we don't have to.
We don't have to go through the messiness of life alone. 

It takes guts to pick up the phone. It's hard to know how to start. Sometimes it's hard to tell someone how anxious, scared, worried, hopeful you are about your marriage, your baby, your finances, your family, your body or your future children. Sometimes we are so used to saying "Oh, I'm fine" and quickly citing the weather or how we lost our contact this morning. But what else?

Oh, I know. I know that it doesn't just come out. It doesn't just happen that you pour your heart out. Your heart has to be full before it begins pouring out. That stuff has to be brewing inside before it's ready. Timing is important and so is the vessel you're pouring it into. You can't just pour it into someone that you're not sure is really concerned. Your "sensitive material" can only be given to someone you know understands how precious it is. Someone that knows you're not nearly as strong or confident as you appear and won't ever throw anything back in your face. Someone that has, somehow genuinely invested her heart in you.

My husband has frequently reminded me of my own loyalties and of the HIGH value I place on relationships. It's true, but I've never seen it so vividly. Relationships are a HUGE vessel of change. They are the vessels of peer pressure and destruction as well as hope and redemption. Those positive relationships are the voices of warning when we are wandering and the encouraging words during our storms. They are so much more than the words in every self-help book or logical answer. They are the words and peace and hope and joy and love of our Savior in flesh. And without them... yes, I would be lost. LOST.

So many reasons to smile...

I considered a number of things before sitting down to blog a bit. Like should I include all my tiny random "blog-worthy" posts into a larger post? Or should I make those separate entries? And... okay, I won't bore you with all of my perfectionistic "woulds" or "shoulds." And I certainly won't claim that this entry is nearly as good as I'd hoped. But, it is what it is!

For now, I'll just tell you my current favorite story!

   Last week Elseigh had placed the ottoman about 2 or 3 feet from the TV with pillows on either side of it. She was jumping over the ottoman while I was cooking. My parents were over, and politely my mom told Elseigh that she should not be doing that, as she was fearful that one mis-step would end in a TV-shattering disaster. But, she told Elseigh to check with me to make sure. I walked into the living room and assessed the situation. I understood why my mom was nervous about it, but (knowing that the TV has a shatter-proof screen) wasn't REALLY worried about it.
   So, I decided to take this chance to talk to Elseigh about how sometimes it's just better not to do something because it was making grandma particularly nervous. I decided to use, what I thought was the PERFECT example: "Elseigh, do you know how you feel when we are in the car and I'm not buckled?"
    (To fill you in, if there are ever the SMALLEST moments when I have not quite gotten the seatbelt latched right as the vehicle has just started moving Elseigh begins SHOUTING "DING! DING! DING! MOMMY!!! YOUR SEATBELT!!! DING DING DING!!!")
   Because Elseigh will flat-out tell you that this makes her nervous and even frequently tells me as I'm putting the van in reverse, "I was just checking to make sure you were buckled," I really thought this would be a SIMPLY point to make. But what does she say? She looks at me, calm, but quite seriously and says "But mommy, I don't feel that way whenever grandma doesn't have her seatbelt on."
   I simply ran from the room she was in trying to hold in my laughter. What more could I say?

Learning

As we were leaving the park last night. E was afraid that the sand "castle" (a pile of sand with some sort of trash sticking out of it) she made for Jesus would soon be forgotten by Him. I quickly assured her that God cannot forget anything, and then as I realized the fallacy in that--I told her that there is only one thing that God forgets. "When we make bad choices and we ask God to forgive us, He forgets all about it. That's the only time He forgets anything."

To which she replied, "That's good cos then He won't be frustrated." Trying to take in her thought and listen to the lesson we're learning together "Yes, that's right. God does not get frustrated with us."

Yet another reminder that God has something for us to learn. everyday.

Enjoy

Hmmm.

So, once again it's been a while...and I'm okay with that.

I've considered eliminating this blog all-together, but just can't make myself do it. I'm okay with that, too.

It looks as though tomorrow I will be giving birth to my second child, my second daughter. I've had such an amazing week off from work to spend with my first, it's been a precious week. And tomorrow I will see the face of another source of overwhelming blessings and an array of emotions. I'm thankful that I know more than I did the first time, that I am so much more aware of all that I have to look forward to. It's good to see that despite the seemingly endless nights, your children begin to bless and teach you in bigger ways than you ever thought possible at such a young age. They are mirrors of the good and the bad and I'm thankful to have grown right along with them on many levels.

I know that I will be frantic many days, my house will never be as clean as I would like it, and that my schedule and my mood may not be what I'd planned on...

but I do know that it is exactly what HE wants for me.

Today's Random Musing

For today, the sound of hearing E sing "Sponge Bob Square Pants" is just about as good as it gets.

(And for the record, she's been sick, so it's great that she's not only stopped running a fever, but now I have an indication she's also feeling good!)

Hooray.

On the Hunt

There are reasons people work for the same company year after year, pushing papers in a job they hate. I suspect that one of those reasons is the fact that they know things really could be worse. They could be out looking for a job.

Now don't think that I'm trying to throw myself a giant pity party, I realize job searching isn't literally the worst thing in the world, at least, not yet. The process that was so seemingly simple in the table-waiting, burger-flipping side of the world, turns into a tangled mess of presumptions and questions: to call or not to call? to take an interview for a job on the bottom of the list? when to stop listing previous employers? required salary? who to ask for references? how to put on your best commercial at the interview?

Ugh. I dread the interview. I've honestly become quite skilled at interviewing---in my mind. Yet somehow, the live event never comes out so smoothly. You're supposed to sound too good to be true? Here's the part I just cannot wrap my brain around: I don't like marketing, I don't like scams, I'm just an honest girl trying to find an honest job with an honest company, why do you want me to pretend I'm better than sliced bread or a miracle working infomercial host? I think I'm exactly what you're looking for, I think I can do this job phenomenally, otherwise I would not have wasted your time applying! I'm not here to sing and dance, so please make up your mind and tell me what I don't have that another client does or that I'm your first candidate. If your turnover rate is high, tell me that, and I'll admit that my family comes first. If I come to the interview and I play the "what you see is what you get" card, you'll think I'm lazy and that I do not care about the position. If I sell myself too well, you'll think I'm a liar. I'm convinced you might think I'm a liar no matter how I sing and dance for you. I'm slowly learning that a large percentage of the world does not expect brutal honesty, at least not when money is involved. I'd like the job, please give it to me. Let's just try this for a month, that will work just fine, this isn't a marriage proposal. The pretentiousness of the job hunt is what I hate. We both know that I'm not perfect and the people I may soon be working for are not either. But instead of being honest about it, let's play a game--- and meanwhilte, we can all think of how great it was that time that our friend's uncle's brother's son just gave us that job/internship/gig. Sigh.

For now I will just keep hoping and praying that the perfect job will fall into my lap without losing too much sleep over it. Oh, and it would be nice if it was the first and only one I stumbled upon... but we're already past that point.

And for now, I'm grateful for the seat-warming, phone-answering job I do have; for these last two days.

Thanks!

I spent last Sunday morning teaching in my daughter's toddler class at church. Although they have what is probably a great curriculum, I realized that for her age the main objective was to say "we thank God" as much as possible. (I suddenly understood how she had learned "Jesus wive"--meaning alive-- during Easter).
It's a pretty easy step, to say thank you, but we rarely say it enough. As soon as my daughter started talking I realized that I needed to say please and thank you a whole lot more if she was ever really going to get it. But now I must ask if I say thank you enough to the people that matter? Do I show my gratitude to God, not out of obligation, but purely from a thankful heart?

I'm thankful for the people God has placed in my life, those here, others that used to be. Most of these people have made my life much richer, and a few, God has used to help me grow (or both). I'm grateful for my family and friends that continue to hope in and encourage me. For the struggles and triumphs in life; for the endless possibility of growth God gives me in each day. His endurance (love and patience) exhausts me.

I'm grateful for you. Those of you that visit here frequently---just for showing up. Your presence and comments encourage me on many levels. At least I'm not literally talking to myself!

What are you most thankful for today?
This day I'm thankful for:
Freddy's Frozen Custard,
the semester's near-end,
and little potty chairs!