The Parent Trap (and not the Disney kind)

This blog post is hard for me.  Because this topic is a hot stinky pile of poo.  But I can't keep dodging the poo-slinging.  People I love and care about on both sides have been burned.  Badly.

There is a war going on.

I'm talking about a war staged on social media and mainstream media.  I'm talking about a battle of words and wit waged by moms, dads, and "trolls" alike.  It covers topics ranging from how we put our kids to sleep to how we discipline, from how we feed our children to what we feed them, from "crunchy" lifestyle choices to "mainstream" choices, from "gentle"/"attachment" parenting to "unattached" parenting (or whatever you call the opposite of AP).  I am talking about the "Mommy Wars" or let's just call it what it is: The "I Can Do Anything You Can Do Better Than You Can, I Can Do Anything Better Than YOU! Wars"  .  Yeah, I went there. 

Now before you completely tune me out, let me fully admit right here and right now that I HAVE PARTICIPATED IN THESE WARS.  I have slung sarcasm and rudeness with the best of them.  I have taken offense and given it.  I too fell for the trap.

What trap? 

I'm so glad you asked.  The trap of judging my fellow parents.  The trap of tearing them down just because they do something I don't do.  The trap of thinking that anyone who does or says differently than I do must be wrong and therefore evil and in turn judging me back!

And you know what?  I am absolutely 100% hurting God's heart.  Ouch.

Ephesians 4:25-32 "Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another. 26 Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, 27 and give no opportunity to the devil. 28 Let the thief no longer steal, but rather let him labor, doing honest work with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with anyone in need. 29 Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. 30 And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. 31 Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. 32 Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you."


Oh man,  do you hear what the Word says here?  The words that I speak/type have power.  They can make or break.  I feel like they've done a lot of breaking lately.  Breaking spirits, breaking bonds, breaking future ministry opportunities, breaking my own heart.   

I've been doing a lot of thinking on this topic.  Like I said, I found myself caught up in the word war with other parents.  So I decided to take a step back.  

I asked myself," What is my true view point on parenting? "

Well, I think we all do the best we can.  I think when we learn better, we do better.  Sometimes that means admitting we are wrong by changing what we do and moving on.  Sometimes that means we see someone else making similar choices.  What do we do then?
  
By the parenting war standards that means we have two options: 1. Inform them that they are wrong.  2.  Justify being angry and rude by pulling the "judgement" card when we are told we are wrong.  But Holy Spirit says we have one option: Give grace to those who hear us.

As a believer, I can not participate in these battles any longer.  I just can't.  I can still post things that I think are relevant.  I can engage in civil and edifying conversation with those who are willing to do the same.  But I can not and will not "go there" when it comes to "proving" myself and my choices.  I will no longer cater to the argumentative and close-minded.  I will not sell out to the "only one can stand" point of view.  I will do what I think is best.  I will advocate for education and choices.

Because when it comes down to it I've realized that Christ is more important than being right.  Christ is more important than anything.  So I don't care if you vaccinate, don't vaccinate, yell at your kids, negotiate with your kids, spank your kids, reason with your kids, feed your kids McDonald's, feed your kids organic unprocessed food, or for heaven's sake breast feed or formula feed.  I care about whether I am loving you like Christ.  I care about whether the words that I speak (whether you agree with them or not) are loving and point to Christ.  I care about my relationship with you more than I care about whether we both get gold stars on the parenting chart. 

Ask yourself: Is my child happy and healthy?  Am I happy and healthy?  Is Christ honored when I  speak? 

Parents, friends, what is your motive when you post something or comment on someone else's post? Is it to contradict? Is it to offer your thoughts on your own research? There's a big difference. And it comes down to knowing why you feel the need to engage in the first place. If your motive is driven by an emotion, stop. If it is driven by a need to "one up" another parent, stop. If it is driven by a desire to cause dissension or offense, stop. 

Just stop. 

Stop perpetuating this silly little social media spat.  Stop contributing to the alienation of parents.  Support the parents in your path.  Love them.  Extend grace.  Stop and think before speaking.  You may not always agree with a parenting choice.  And you may indeed have a better way.  But no one is going to want to take a look at it if your ramming it down their throats.   

Examine your motives. Examine your heart. 

I'm not saying to stop posting or commenting. I'm just saying that there's a better way to educate, inform, and support other parents. And you know what, believers? It starts with us. We are the example. We are the light in the dark. Our words carry weight. They carry power. And they should carry grace. 

Bottom line: It's not about being the better parent.  It's about being a better sharer of the Gospel.

The Buzz on Bumblebee, Pt. 3

The next few hours were a blur.  I remember chatting with the nurses and the doctor as they cleaned Silas up and the doctor stitched me up ( I had a 4th degree tear).  I remember them giving Silas to me to nurse for the first time.  I remember being taken to our room and eating while Andrew went with Silas and the nurse to go to the nursery and finish getting Silas cleaned up and ready for the night.  But by the time they returned, my pain meds and the antibiotic they'd put me on had kicked in.  I don't remember much of that first night at all.  Andrew was a trooper, stepping in and making sure Silas was taken care of while I recovered.

The next couple days in the hospital were interesting.  I felt pretty useless.  I was on pain medication for the tear I got during labor and because the pain meds made me super nauseous, I was also on nausea meds.  The nausea medicine made me incredibly drowsy.  I was also still very dehydrated.  I felt like I was barely functioning most of the time. 

When I was awake I would hold my baby while he slept.  When he was hungry I tried to nurse.  Oh how we tried. 

My son definitely got a good dose of stubbornness in the genetic mix.  I wish I could say it was all Bancroft...but there's definitely some Layton/Pruitt in there too.  Every time we nursed he would just give up and get MAD.  I mean, Hulk mad.  He'd latch on just fine and start to nurse but before any progress could happen he would let go and begin to cry.  He was inconsolable. 

Each attempt at nursing ended the same.  We'd spend an hour trying to latch on, trying to get some colostrum in his little mouth, Silas wailing.  And Mommy giving up and crying herself or becoming so exhausted that she just couldn't do it any more.  Then Andrew would take him and walk him or rock him until he cried himself out and went to sleep.  I don't know how I would ever have managed without Andrew.

Andrew became the primary care giver while we were there.  I spent most of the time sleeping or in pain.  There were a few moments of alertness.  Usually when we had visitors I was able to perk up a bit and at least say hi and chat for a few minutes.  But most of the time I slept.

I was concerned about my lack of success at nursing but the nurses all encouraged me.  They gave me tips.  They told me it was normal.  No one made me feel like I was doing a bad job. 

Eventually the lactation consultant came by to see me.  We got off on the wrong foot and I chose to ignore any advice she gave me.  In hindsight, I wish I'd gotten over myself and just listened and tried the things she was suggesting.  We might have avoided some of what was to come.

Finally, the day to bring our Bumblebee home had arrived.  It was New Year's Day.  As I waited for Andrew to bring the car around it struck me that we had come full circle. 

On New Year's Day eight years ago Andrew and I began dating.   This day we were bringing home our son.  Eight years ago we hadn't even begun to dream about him.  But God had.  His story began that day as much as it had nine months ago.  It was a cool moment to reflect on.

The next week would be one of the toughest weeks of my life.  I need to pause here and just say again:  I married an AMAZING man.  I am so thankful to be his wife and I am so very blessed by his love, friendship, and support. 

When we were discharged at the hospital, we were told to call the pediatrician and set up an appointment for Silas in two days.  I thought this was odd because I knew his first well baby check up should be at two weeks.  But I chalked it up to the pediatrician just wanting to be thorough and since we hadn't seen him before Silas was born, maybe he wanted to have the "getting to know you" appointment as soon as possible before doing the first well baby appointment.

Oh how I wish I'd paid more attention to the what was going on when the nurses would take Silas to the nursery for weigh ins and such.  I would have been more prepared for why Dr. Ellis wanted to see us so soon.  I would have been more prepared for the battle I was about to fight.

Tuesday night through Friday morning of week 1 were tough.  Silas and I were still having trouble getting into the nursing groove.  This was made doubly hard by the fact that my milk didn't come in until early Friday morning.  Everyone kept telling me this was normal though so I tried not to worry over it too much.

Friday we loaded up and drove up to see Dr. Ellis.  Once we got checked in for our appointment the nurse took Silas' measurements and weighed him. Then Dr. Ellis came in.

I knew something was up from the moment he sat down with us.  His first question was: Are you still having trouble nursing?  I told him yes.  He nodded and took a deep breath. 

Dr. Ellis then explained that the reason he'd had us come in was because Silas' last weigh in before discharge had concerned him.   He thought Silas was losing too much weight and wanted to see him after a couple days at home to see if nursing would go any better. 

I told him that my milk hadn't come in until very early that morning and that I had hoped nursing would start going better now that it had.  I remember feeling apprehensive and anxious as I explained this.  The look on the doctor's face told me there was something else happening that I had missed.

Dr. Ellis told us that it's totally normal for newborns to lose a little weight in their first few days.  This usually amounts to a few ounces or so.  Silas had lost two pounds.  To be exact, he had lost 25% of his body weight.  This was not OK.

My heart sank.  I began to get emotional.  Dr. Ellis tried to comfort me, but what he said next only sent me further into the emotional abyss.  We had to supplement.  We had to get some high calorie formula into Silas over the weekend.  My mind raced ahead...I didn't want to do formula.  I hated that we would have to.  But I knew that supplementing wasn't the end of the world if I could still nurse him.

Then Dr. Ellis said he wanted us to try the bottle.  My first response was, "Absolutely not.  Do I have any other options?  I don't want to use a bottle.  We are breastfeeding."

To his credit, Dr. Ellis did try to work with me on this.  He asked me if I had any ideas and I asked about the tube feeding system.  You put breast milk or formula supplement in a syringe or bag that is attached to a tube which you then tape to your nipple and as baby nurses, you slowly release the supplement.  Dr. Ellis said that he had heard of this but that he didn't have access to this.  He agreed to have his lactation nurse call the lactation consultant at the hospital and ask if they had one and also to consult with them about what they felt would be best for Silas at this point.

Unfortunately the hospital didn't have a tube system either.  The lactation consultant was also concerned with the amount of energy it was taking Silas to nurse.  She suggested that we do whatever was necessary to get some food in him over the weekend and worry about nursing after that.

This would mean a bottle.  I was devastated.  I knew how hard nursing was going to be to get started.  I also knew how much harder it would be once a bottle was prematurely introduced.  I had a big ugly cry right there.

Andrew immediately began to console me.  Dr. Ellis reached out and rubbed my shoulder, apologizing.  He told us he wouldn't force the bottle on us.  It would be my decision.  He understood how hard this was.  His wife had gone through the same thing.  Only her pediatrician didn't give her a choice.  She had come in with a bottle and given it to their son without even so much as warning them.  He would never, ever, do that to a breastfeeding mom.

I was a mess.  I hated that we would have to do a bottle.  Hated it!  Dr. Ellis then asked me if I would feel better talking to the lactation nurse for a little bit.  He wanted me to hear from her why they thought the bottle would be best for now and have her give me some pointers on getting started nursing.  He assured me, we weren't giving up on that.  We just needed to do something else in addition for a little bit.

The lactation nurse was really nice.  She explained to us about Silas using so much energy to nurse that he was burning more calories than he was getting.  We needed to get the weight loss stopped as soon as possible.  She spent time helping try to get him latched on and watched me try to nurse.  She gave me advice on positioning, and encouragement.  Then she asked me what I wanted to do.  She asked me if I wanted her to get a bottle.

The tears started all over again.  I looked at Andrew.  He hugged me.  He told me he wouldn't let me give up on nursing, but maybe we needed to trust that this was what was best for now.  I cried harder.  The lactation nurse patted me on the back and squeezed my hand.  I slowly nodded.  We would do the bottle.

She left and came back with a formula bottle ready to go.  She asked me if I wanted her to get him started.  She knew that it would be hard for me.  She wanted to make it easier.  I told her no, I could do it.  So I did.  For about a minute.  Then the tears came again.

She took Silas and held him.  Then she began to feed him the bottle.  She looked me straight in the eyes the whole time and said, "You are a good mom.  This will all be over soon enough.  You're doing the right thing, here, OK?"  I wish I believed her.  In that moment no one could convince me that this was best.

Eventually Dr. Ellis came back and gave us instructions for supplementing.  He also ordered a jaundice test. He tried one more time to comfort me.  He encouraged Andrew and told him he knew how he as the husband/dad felt.  He'd been there.  He told us to hang in there.  He gave me a half hug on the way out. 

On the way out of the doctor's office every lie the enemy had been whispering all week washed over me.  I wallowed in them.  I let them take root.

You see, I had been feeling inadequate and useless from day one.  I didn't feel like I had gotten much bonding time with Silas and what time I did get was full of sobbing, frustration, and feelings of failure.  I felt like all of those insecurities had just been confirmed.  I wasn't enough.  I couldn't take care of him.  I couldn't even provide for him.  He was only four days old and I'd already failed him completely.  Like I said, I'd been listening to lies.

That first weekend with Silas was probably the toughest weekend I have ever had.  That whole first week was a battle.  Mama and baby continued to end nursing sessions completely distraught.  There were many times when I let negative self talk get in my way. 

I was angry with God.  I cried out to him,"WHY?"  I didn't understand how a God who designed my body to feed my child could let this happen.  Why would he take this away?

There were just as many times when my wonderful husband stepped in and did what he could to comfort me and our son.  There were even a few times when he did what had to be done for both of us and ordered me to bed while he took care of Silas.

At first I resented these efforts on Andrew's part.  Soon enough though I regained perspective and was so grateful to him.  Eventually I realized that my sinking into an emotional black hole wasn't helping anyone...especially not Silas.  I took action.  I reached out to several friends who I knew would provide a backbone of support and prayer.  I also called my counselor and asked for an appointment ASAP.

On Monday Silas had another doctor appointment to do a weight check.  We had heard back from the lab over the weekend that his jaundice levels were normal, so his weight was now our only concern.

Doctor Ellis had the nurse do Silas' measurements and weigh him.  When he came in to the room to talk to us I was praying it was better.  Doctor Ellis started off by asking me how I was.  I told him fine.  He asked me pointedly about my depression.  I assured him it was under control.  He apologized again for the pain this was obviously bringing me and then told us that he had some good news.

Silas had gained weight.  He was now only 17% down from his birth weight.  This was good news!  Dr. Ellis wanted us to continue to supplement but gave me the go ahead to start trying to get Silas back to breastfeeding.  Answered prayer.

That night and the next were still very hard.  When I sat down to nurse Silas refused.  More tears.  More frustration.  More lies.

When I saw Silas take the bottle eagerly, my heart broke all over again.  I was angry.  I was devastated.  I knew nursing would be hard.  His eagerness for the bottle over the breast would make it even harder.  I wasn't sure how to get started again.  I needed help.

So once again I reached out to the circle of women I had surrounded myself with.  They prayed.  They encouraged.  They offered help.  One of them was April Clay. 

Tuesday, January 8th, I got up with a goal: nursing.  I realized that the doctor had just told us the day before that we could start transitioning off of the formula, but I was determined.   The sooner we could get off the formula and stop depending on the bottle so much, the better off both Silas and I would be.  By that afternoon though I was exhausted and no closer to figuring out how to get Silas to latch on, stay latched on, and eat.  I needed help.  I texted April.

That evening April  made arrangements with the Lokey's to watch her kiddos while she came to my rescue.  Once she arrived we headed to the nursery to get down to business.  Andrew joined us.  Something I was so glad for.  He wanted to support me.  He wanted to know how this was supposed to work so that he could understand how to help me. 

Let me just say this:  If you ever need a coach in your corner, April Freakin' Clay is your gal.  We've taken to calling her the lactation guru/coach/genius at our house.  And Mister Silas owes a lot to his sweet Aunt April.  She spent about an hour helping me figure out what positions worked best for us, how to get Silas to latch on and stay on, giving me advice and encouragement for how to make this whole nursing thing work. 

When April left, Andrew just looked at me and said,"We should have called her last week.  It took her an hour to give you back your confidence.  You can totally do this now!"  Folks, that just about says it all.  He was right.  I felt confident.  I felt supported.  I COULD do this.

Within a couple of days we stopped giving Silas the formula.  I was still pumping and letting Andrew give him a bottle when a nursing session wasn't going well, but no more formula.  By the end of that week, we were nursing like pros.  It was amazing the transformation that happened in our boy.  He was content.  He was relaxed.  And mama was pretty changed too.  Those lies that had been gripping me were exposed.  I let them go.  I stepped into the light of Truth.  And Father lovingly reminded me that He'd been there all along.  He just needed me to see that I needed Him.  

We had another weight check that next week.  Silas still wasn't gaining the way that he should, but Dr. Ellis was willing to let me keep breastfeeding exclusively for a week and see what happened.  Silas took the opportunity to have a growth spurt and now that Auntie April had taught him to eat,  he did.  Oh how he ate.  And ate.  And ate.  To the point that mama was having to remind herself that this was good and that we fought so hard for it and it was worth it.  I was exhausted but also thankful.  Being kept up all night by a ravenous newborn was a good thing at this point.  It beat being kept up all night by a frustrated and upset newborn.

We went back for another weight check yesterday.  Dr.  Ellis was so pleased and excited to tell me the results that he could barely contain himself.  Six pounds, nine ounces! He was officially gaining at a 30grams a day rate, which was our original goal.  We had done it!

The last 3 weeks with my son has been one of the hardest experiences of my life.  I have never been more worn emotionally, spiritually, and physically all at once.  I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I have learned so much about myself and the Lord the last couple of weeks.  I have finally recognized the lengths a parent will go to for their child...it makes the fact that God calls himself our Father so much sweeter...deeper...meaningful.  When I look at the last three weeks in comparison to what our Father in heaven has done for us: forget about it.  I can never again doubt these things about my God and King:  He loves me.  He will fight for me.  He will not give up on me.  He is on my side.

Happily Ever After

Every time I start to believe the dream is real, 

More lies crowd in trying to reveal,

The flaw in the fairy tale.

I don't know what to believe, 

The lies sound closer to the truth these days.

You tell me happily ever after does exist,

So when does it begin?

The clock is striking midnight, 

The dragon has laid it's trap,

The curse is sinking in and

I feel just like the princess, 

Locked up in a tower.

I need a prince who will fight for me,

I need a knight in shining armor.

Even now I wonder,

Does he even exist?

And just when I think the dragon will win,

There You are again...

"I am your charming Prince, I am your hero Knight", you say.

"I'm right here and I will fight for you, 

The dragon I will slay.

No striking clock will end what I've begun,

No dragon's plot could ever be cunning enough,

No curse could ever be unbroken,

No tower tight could keep you from My love."

Every time I start to trade the lie for my perfect fairy tale, 

You sing out to me pointing out the flaws, 

The lies that try to steal.

Gently calling me to fall in love,

You reveal to me my happily ever does exist,

I have found that it is You.

Trust & Obey

I 've had the old hymn "Trust and Obey" stuck in my head for a week.  It just popped in there and hung around for a bit.  It was never one that particularly struck a chord with me or one of my top ten go-to hymns, but there it was.  I think the fact that it's a pretty good summary of my journey right now isn't coincidental.  Jesus says,'Trust Me', and I say,"I'll obey" has been the ebb and flow of me for a few months now.

Today, I sat working on some things and again, that old tune started up.  So, in an effort to get it out of my head, I googled it.  There they were: the lyrics.  Yes, I thought, I'll sing it a couple times and get it out of my head and move on.  The music started up and I glanced at the first verse and began to sing.  By verse two, I was unable to sing because the tears were flowing quickly and my voice was too thick with emotion to continue.

When we walk with the Lord
  In the light of His Word,
What a glory He sheds on our way;
  While we do His good will,
  He abides with us still,
And with all who will trust and obey.

• Trust and obey,
  For there's no other way
  To be happy in Jesus,
    But to trust and obey.

Not a shadow can rise,
  Not a cloud in the skies,
But His smile quickly drives it away;
  Not a doubt or a fear,
  Not a sigh or a tear,
Can abide while we trust and obey.

It hit me like a ton of bricks.  Look at the words.  Read them. Soak them in.  When we walk with the Lord, glory He sheds on our way, no shadow, no fear, no doubt, He drives them away while we trust and obey.  I have never felt more fearless...I've been trusting and obeying...I've never been so happy, even in the face of adversity, I've been trusting and obeying. 

Not a burden we bear,
  Not a sorrow we share,
But our toil He doth richly repay;
  Not a grief or a loss,
  Not a frown or a cross,
But is blest if we trust and obey.

My burdens? My sorrows? He repays them, He blesses me through them.  I truly get that now.

But we never can prove
  The delights of His love,
Until all on the altar we lay;
  For the favor He shows,
  And the joy He bestows,
Are for them who will trust and obey.

This verse echoes in my heart: But we never can prove the delights of His love, until all on the altar we lay.  It's deep down Truth.  Until I trusted him and layed down all I had on the altar of obedience, I could never have enjoyed the delight of His love the way that I do now.  It is so much richer, sweeter, fuller...

Sometimes Silence Speaks Louder

I have so much to say and no idea what to say at the same time. You know that cusp I was talking about in my first post? Wow, was I onto something. Rather, God was ;).

I've been waiting for Him to do something. It's been so long since I've heard from Him. And honestly I was getting a little angry with Him. I mean, how dare He ignore me, how dare He continue to bring up the same sore spot when He did talk to me, how dare He treat me this way after all I've done for Him?!! Oh boy. I am definitely Eve's daughter...

Last week was my one year wedding anniversary. Andrew and I decided to spend the week in Santa Fe, NM. I went into that week with a lot of expectations, hopes, and of course, fears. I had been looking forward to this trip as a sort of honeymoon, since our original "honeymoon" had only been for the weekend after our wedding.

Because I was in this honeymoon frame of mind, I envisioned this rekindling of emotions and passions that took place during our wedding...I also blocked out any memory of the amount of time we spent discussing and working through how to be married in the first place. Frankly, I was expecting perfection.

I was expecting all of my problems, issues, etc. to go away and never come back. I was expecting that the barrier between us communication-wise would disappear. I was expecting to not have to face any kind of conflict (which in this case would have been positive, but conflict in any form is scary!) or own up to any mistakes on my part, or to have to acknowledge that we have even had any kind of anything to "deal" with this year. I sure was expecting a lot. It's a good thing God often exceeds our expectations.

By Tuesday I had reached my limit for forced positivity and filtering my moods. I was cranky, tired, angry, stressed, unhappy and depressed. I had not set boundaries for my thought life that morning and as a result I had fallen into the Enemy's trap. I let him talk to me. I let him lie to me. I began to feel darker and darker. I began to feel as if I were caught in a giant tug of war...And I was the rope!

By Tuesday evening, Andrew had run out of patience, understanding, and positivity himself. He'd had enough. Who can blame him? I don't. His wife had turned into a black hole of complaint, dissent, and contradiction on this his anniversary vacation. So he did what he has always done best...he called me out on my crap. He had not run out of love, wisdom, faith, or his singular ability to draw me out of myself. Uh oh. I was in trouble. I mean, what do you do when God starts talking to you through your husband?? I decided to start a fight...with God.

Turns out, Andrew and I had both come on this vacation with expectations. He had envisioned a week of rest, relaxation, and quality time with his bride. He had expected to see my weeks of built up stress melt away and his as well. He had expected to see me smile and laugh and enjoy myself with him. And up until Tuesday, his expectations were being met...so you can imagine why he was so confused and upset towards my behavior. There was something I had been keeping locked up in my little head though. Something he had no idea about. (See, I had already been examining my heart and my actions. I already had a small inkling about what was causing my attitude...for the last several months.)

Andrew began to question my behavior and my attitude. Not in an accusatory manner, but genuinely trying to understand why I was so unhappy. Understandably, I had hurt him. He needed to know if there was something he had done to make me upset. Faced with my explanation of not knowing why I was unhappy (tell him the truth and have to face my problem? no thank you!), my sweet husband proceeded to suggest that maybe I needed to talk to God about my unhappiness. I proceeded to inform him that "that [was] just not going to happen". Enter God.

My husband said one thing to me after that: If you aren't willing to talk to God about it, then you are not willing to make it better. And then, he sat in silence next to me. It was a pretty valid point and he knew it. So did I. Crap.

As we sat there saying absolutely nothing, God began to speak to me. And much like my mother, Eve, I threw up some fig leaves and tried to act as if nothing had happened. And, He kept talking. I interrupted. I shouted. I screamed. He kept talking. And then I began to cry. Like, for real cry. Andrew silently put his hand on my shoulder. I cried harder. I didn't want to hear what God was saying...because I thought I knew what He was saying and I didn't want any part of it. I was determined to sit in my disobedience and punish myself for it.

Um, hi, Courtney? You're wrong. What? I am not wrong! I know what you're gonna tell me and I said no! I said no months ago and I meant it! I told you I was sorry, but I am not willing to go there and... You're wrong. Wait...what? That isn't what I was going to say at all. It isn't? No. And now that you're talking to me and listening for that matter, I'd like to say something very important. Excuse me? I was talking to you! You weren't listening to me! Child, you are trying my patience. I've got something to say. Now be still and know!! Oh...um...ok...that was kind of childish. I'll just be quiet now and hear you out. If you weren't going to say that other thing...then what were you going to say? Sweetheart, I just wanted to say I love you and ask you to be a little easier on yourself. You are so bent on accepting punishment for your disobedience that you are overlooking that you were already forgiven. Why are you still disobeying something that isn't even a possibility any more? There is no reason for you to be separate from me and yet you are forcing just that! You admitted your sin and you asked me to forgive you...yet, you overlooked that forgiveness and continued to disobey based on the "punishment" you felt you deserved for that sin. Honey, that's my job not yours. I choose your consequences, not you. I chose to forgive and use the experience to teach you something valuable. You chose to ignore the lesson and continue to live as if you were being cast out from me...by me! And that is NOT TRUE. I never cast you out...you walked away and asked me not to follow. WHY? Oh. Um. Uh...OH. Oh, wow. I... Yes? I...um..I... I'm listening. Can we start over? I'd like to just start over now, please. Ah, now you're listening. So that's a yes? Yes. And? And? Um. What now? That's the beauty of my plan... OH. Oh, I see. Do you? Yes! Oh, Lord! I do! I don't have to see it at all! I just have to follow!! I get it! Good. Please remember dear, sweet, Princess: I have walked this path ahead of you and I will walk this path with you...good or bad. I am with you. This is the TRUTH. I think Lisa tried to tell me that already... Yes. I asked her to. You weren't speaking with me at the time. Oh. Yeah. Um...sorry. Forgiven. Thanks. You're welcome. Dad, I love you. I won't do that again. And...whatever you're gonna do? I wanna do that. Whatever it is. I mean...even if it's that other thing...You know. I know. So...is that a possibility? All things are possible for me. Uh..so...um...You know what? I don't need to know. That is what I call progress. I'm OK with that. I love you, child, now go be with your husband. He loves you too.

Boy, does he love me, that husband of mine. And I love him too. Santa Fe may not have been the best vacation Andrew and I have ever taken together...but it was probably the best one I've had with God. I intend to have many more fabulous get aways with both of my loves.

Happy Birthday

I love the picture of God as Redeemer. It’s always been the part of His character that I’m drawn to most, the Name I’ve treasured most. He always seems to speak to me in that way too.
My whole life story is full of Redemption. Every turn, every clear path, every stormy shore is covered with it. And when I hear God speaking loudest to me…it’s always when He is redeeming something for me. Like my Birthday.

Today is my Birthday. In the past, I’ve never looked forward to it. It was always a day filled with anxiety and fear. I never knew if it was going to be good day or a bad day because I never knew who my Mom would be that day.

Most Birthdays growing up have been hard. I was never made to feel like it was an important day or even a special day. I was reminded of what a hardship I was. I was reminded of the pain I cause just by being. I was told many things. Things I now know to be Lies from the Enemy.

I don’t really blame my Mom. I mean, I am still angry most of the time, but I don’t blame her. I’m old enough now to be able to see that she was never meant to be who she was/is. She’s ill. She needs help. I can’t really hold her responsible for the pain she’s inflicted. The Enemy uses what he can…and unfortunately that means he uses my Mom’s illness against her, myself, our family, etc.

But, the last few years have been interesting. God has placed some very special people in my life. People I consider to be “family” in the truest sense. They are remarkable people. They love me despite me at every turn of the road. They go out of their way to celebrate me and the friendships I have with them on my Birthday. They are determined that my Birthday be full of Truth and Love.

So even when I’m not sure how my Birthday will be affected by the Enemy’s pull on my Mom’s heart, I know that she loves me and were she truly Free, she would tell me so. And I know that, because I choose Truth. I choose Love. And because these blessings God has given me over the years, my “family” outside of family, refuse to let me believe anything else.

Happy Birthday, to me! What a precious gift I have indeed.

*Originally posted via Facebook Notes, Mar 31,2010

Out of the Darkness

I feel like I am on the cusp of something. Something big. And something so separate from me that I am so not ever going to be prepared for it. I feel like God is about to totally, completely, and for maybe the first time ever going to wholly sweep me away. I am begging Him to do it too. Even though I'm scared and nervous and unsure. Even as I write this I am torn between the two emotions of wanting God so deeply and desperately and wanting to run for the nearest hiding place. Now I know how Adam and Eve felt in garden. You know that moment when they realized the fullness of their disobedience and heard God calling to them? I desperately want Him to fix me, to take me in His arms and tell me exactly what went wrong and then heal me. I also desperately want to hide and cover myself with "fig leaves" and come up with a REALLY good story to get myself out of this mess. Ha ha. Yeah, because that worked out well for Eve too. :) Ah, well, original mother like descendant daughter, I suppose.
I guess I'm saying all of this to make this point. God is going to be doing some deep, crazy, stretching and pulling in my life over the next few months and as always, He is calling me to tell my story. It's what I do. It's what He created me for. To tell a story, a story of truth. So I'm about to get real honest with you folks. And some of you will be shocked. Some of you will worry. Some of you will be my biggest source of encouragement and support. And some of you will get angry, get disappointed, get sad, and maybe walk away forever. But that's OK. Because I am a Truth-speaker and when God tells me to speak, who am I to say, No, Lord, not me?
For the first time ever, I am going to start telling my whole story. Every part of it. Because God is saturated in it. And He wants to tell His side of it.
To those who have always been my prayer warriors: start praying please.
To those who have spoken Truth and Wisdom over me: :) Get ready.
To those who need to hear this story: I am praying for you.
To those who will hate every step of this: I'm sorry. I forgive you. Please forgive me. I'm praying for you too. And I love you. Please know that.
To my husband: Thank you for holding my hand and walking this path with me. You have no idea how much it means. I'm so very glad that God wrote you into His love story for me.
(And here I sit, staring at what I have written. I'm tempted to scroll to the bottom of the page and hit discard, to pretend that I never wrote this. And as I sit here, my Father says to me, Have Courage, for I am with You. So I will hit publish and have a moment of freaking out and then the God of peace will plant a sweet Kiss on my forehead and I will step boldly into the Sunshine.)

*Originally written and posted via Facebook Notes, Feb. 26,2010