Faithful

I wrote this post several weeks ago, but never published it. I can't believe the situations that God works in, so. beautiful. He's answered my prayer in terms of my health and healing. He didn't answer in the way that I wanted, but He answered. He is so faithful. We've since finished reading the book mentioned below, and it's my favorite, not only for my kids, but for me.

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Every day, me, Eden, and Micah, sit down on the couch and pull a blanket across all three of our laps. We open up one of the fifty books we check out weekly from the library, and we sit and read and read. Every few days, we pull out a new favorite, The Story for Children.

I was shocked at the theme as we read yesterday, mostly from Exodus. The theme, over and over and over, God is faithful, God is faithful, God is faithful.

See, I've been down lately. My body just isn't recovering from this whole miscarriage ordeal, and I've been discouraged at the amount of time that's past. I'm sensitive too. I love friends talking about babies, hearing about babies, anything to do with babies, but I cry. Really easily. It's a little piece of my heart that is so tender and sensitive.
As Eden, Micah, and I have been reading, that theme of 'God is faithful', has been beautifully haunting me. Like when God promised Abraham and Sarah a child, and they waited 40 years; or when the Israelites waited outside the promised land, waited for 40 years outside of it in the desert. He was there, and he continually provided for His people. It wasn't always in ways they expected, but He was so faithful to them.
Often when I read the Bible, I look for a promise, a statement of hope, or perhaps some word of encouragement. Never do I look to the stories of the Old Testament, and yet, it's there.

I've been listening to the song "In Christ Alone" on repeat. The words:
In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm

What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless Babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save

Til on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live, I live

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again

And as He stands in victory
Sins curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From a life?s first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny

No power of hell, no scheme of man
Could ever pluck me from His hand
Til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I stand

How long has it been?

The winter funk isn't affecting my kids much. Me, on the other hand, it is. I get so cold every day that I curl up in the sunbeam that hits the living room floor at 1:30 and I stay there. I get so tired, because I'm just sitting, that I usually fall asleep. Maybe that's not a funk, maybe it's a sort of heaven. It sounds nice as I write it, but I feel lazy when I'm doing it.

So, my kids don't get this way. The Wisconsin winter doesn't get to them in the way it gets to me.

They go about their little lives, having fun, being creative, and enjoying themselves.

Eden still plays Mary. (yes, the virgin,mother of Jesus)Though it's not daily, it's still frequent, though I do miss the daily routine. I especially miss Mike playing it with her. Being the angel, and getting sooooo dramatic. Even if you were in the worst mood ever, it would make you smile watching it.

Eden is also still dressing her babies in five million outfits at once. I think she's so creative in her play. It's not just one outfit that looks good, it's like layers and layers of outfits that look good.

Micah is Micah. Jumping off of anything and always getting hurt, or not hurt. He doesn't really care. He's fun though, and could probably tell me more about trucks than I could tell you.

But me, I have this funk. Like the kind of funk you feel after you ride on a plane. That you don't have the fresh air on your face and in your hair. Kinda stale, awaiting change, or anticipating inspiration. They've got that all the time. That spark. I want that. There's been so many days this week that I've said the verse "this is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it,"just trying to remind myself and keep it in the front of my brain what a gift this life is. I don't ever want to think of myself as stale.

                          

I want to be vivacious, deep, and always aware. I want to take advantage of my job as a stay at home mom, not just our routine. I don't want to go through the motions, I want to be moved, to be stirred inside. They challenge me. Daily, to do this sort of thing.

I know it's hard to believe. But she does it in the deepest way. She asks me questions no one else would. She cares to know the answer to those kind of questions.

That's something I cherish. That's probably one of my favorite thing about friendships, the ones that ask you the deep things. The questions that really show your heart.

Just the other day, I was thinking about my emotional journey with the loss of our baby. Thinking about how I don't cry about it every day now. Wondering why and how long has it been since I cried?

It's always funny how those situations pan out. You think about them, then they change.

Tonight at dinner, Eden asked me "mommy, what do you think you'll do when you first see your baby in heaven?" Tears rolled down my cheeks. She cared to know.
I told her my feelings, and felt anew. Not stale anymore, and thanking God that they teach me. I know it's my job to teach them, but it's always amazing to me the things I learn from them.
So thankful for their little tender hearts and their perspective.
Such a gift.

Adios 2012

I've been thinking all year about how 2012 is probably my least favorite year ever. 

It's not been my favorite, 2012, but I've never learned so much. I remember back a few years, I would ponder life and love, and couldn't remember going through a hard time for a while. People often say that you learn the most through hard times and I'd have to agree. While I wouldn't mind not learning for a while, I know I'll never forget the things I have learned this year.

Last January and February, it was gorgeous out. I started taking the kids to the park in February, which is so rare for Wisconsin. But I had a really heavy heart. 

I knew surgery was coming, and though I tried so hard to live every day in the moment, it was like a dark cloud was looming. I lost a lot of weight, due to stress, yet time kept ticking.

In March, I had ankle reconstruction and couldn't walk for nearly two months. 

                          

Talk about stripping a person of their independence. March 8th came and went, surgery went well, recovery was harder. I will never forget the rock that Mike was during the next couple of months. He did everything for the kids as I could do nothing.

Every day, I felt like I struggled to find joy, something I'd never had trouble with before. I could put on a smile, but in my heart, I felt so helpless. I learned so much about God and patience through those months. And Mike, he still remained patient, loving, kind, and so compassionate to me. We got through those hard few months, and we definitely grew as a family.
By June, I was finally walking again unassisted, a time that I thought would never come. The next few months flew by. We made a lot of good memories in the next several months.

Really good memories. I knew that I had gone through so much in months prior, and I was continually counting my blessing. I think of myself as a pretty thankful person, but this whole period in my life was different. It was like a morph into a new thankfulness.

I was brought to tears so many times in those months out of thankfulness and joy. Happy tears, those are the best kind.

We celebrated our seventh anniversary, and were truly enjoying life.

Then in October,when I was three months pregnant,we lost our baby. That is something I can never forget, every single detail is burned in my memory, and I can't forget it, not for a minute of the day. I remember looking at myself in the mirror many times after we found out and not recognizing myself, the grief was so unbearable. I remember just walking around, missing my baby, feeling so empty, so alone.
My body still thinks I'm pregnant as the hormones haven't left yet. I think the day that I see a negative pregnancy test, I'll have a little party for myself. It's a funny feeling, just wanting to be done with a trial, but not really being able to shake it. It's still there, the hormones, a reminder, the pain.
When I go to the hospital to have my hormone levels tested, I break down in tears, and anxiety tries to hold a grip on me. I've left there often, shaking, remember the day.
Thankfully, God is stronger. He's bigger than any trial that I've had this year. By no means can I twist what's happened and say I'm glad it all happened. I'll never say that.
But I long for heaven more. To see Jesus, and to hold my baby that I never got to; to have my body be free of pain, made new in Christ. To know that I'll never have to have another ankle surgery or never have to fear losing another baby, that's heaven. And to have Jesus hold me... the thought brings me to tears.
We heard the song Endless Hallelujah in church a few weeks ago, and it's had a way with me. Listen to it, it's amazing, and it sums it all up.
Every day is a chance to start new, so thankful for that. Happy New Years friends.

Today, I...

had a doctor's appointment and it went very well

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am comparing how wonderful I feel as to five weeks ago after my appointment

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have an obsession with sunshine

can't wait to grill out dinner

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think this blog is headed downhill because of the sunshine outside

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am slightly bummed that I won't be longboarding for the next six weeks

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am still happy

have an problem with butter toffee almonds

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am really irritated that Eden keeps waking Micah up from his naps

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got to spend time alone with Mike

got up before everyone else in the house

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got told by a stranger that I had pretty hair, thank you stranger

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don't want to do laundry or any other inside chore

decided that because the doctor said no to the YMCA, the beach will do just fine for a daily activity

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think dragons may be right on up there with walruses

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got my trumpet vine planted so it can take over the house

went to Stein's and didn't buy anything

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really need to finish weed wacking

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need to get outside right now

Decision time

So, It's been almost two months since my ankle surgery, and I've made some decisions.

Often people ask me how I'm doing or how I've been, and nearly every time, I resist an impulsive urge to run to that person, hug 'em, and tell them my heart. Tell them that I'm hurting and I'm afraid that pain is taking over my life because it invades my thoughts. Tell them that my body feels old, you'd have to be me to understand, but I just don't feel right. My other ankle is starting to go, my wrist is killing me, I could go on, but I won't.

Today I went and picked up a patio set from a craigslist sale. The lady did exactly what I wanted to do, except she had a better reason. Her husband just died, and she sobbed when she was telling me. She told me that she still uses his cell phone because it has his voice on the voice mail, and she drives his truck because it smells like him. Man, I felt small and stupid. Pain, pfffft.

Selfish, me. So I've made some decisions.
Feet first, I'm back. I've sat on the sidelines for the past two months, dealing with depressing thoughts about my future, and taken a back seat from being myself. They coach you about what surgery will be like, but they never tell you the psychological battle that you'll face after. It's exhausting, and I think that's why.

I decided today that I can't have the negativity. My life and heart can't deal that way. When I'm the mom that I'm normally, my kids adore me, head over heels. Not to brag, but I can be a blast. I love to have fun. Not just with them, teaching them dance moves, pretending I don't hear them jumping on the beds upstairs for sake of their joy, relishing the little tiny moments, but with myself. Hello longboarding this summer.

Trying to teach Micah how to blow bubbles, or learn more of the words to "Old McDonald", watching him copy every single action Eden does verbatim, or his love for snacks, those are the things that I want to focus on.

Listening to Eden narrate herself: "No thank you, she exclaimed" (she really does say that), or giving her the independence that she craves, trying to love princesses for her sake, and doing my best to get lost in fairy tales with her, that's what I want.

I'll never be a mom to who can't relate to the hardships of motherhood. Those moms are my latest pet peeve. Tell me you think it's easy or that you have it all figured out, I won't like you. I'm not phony, and I'll never say that I've arrived. I will keep striving to, but until then, it's decision time.

Deciding to stay in the game, be immature for fun's sake, and be me. And of course those small decisions too, like letting Eden decide if we listen to The Lumineers or Greg Laswell (she'd pick Lumineers any day), or reading the same exact truck book over fifty times to Micah, those are the little decisions that I'm excited about too.

So thankful that I talked to Jesus last night about it all. My heart feels full, and I think I'll hold onto Eden's quote today for a while: "Today's a really good day, isn't it".

Submission and a strong will

Believe it or not, this is not about either of my kids. It's me. I'm embarrassed at the fact that I'm strong willed to the point of disobedience and what some would consider reckless thinking. That's me.
I wish I had some cute pictures to go along with this post, but I don't. My heart's been hurting, or should I say surrendering. Surrendering to submission against a strong willed head.

This surgery has been nothing that I expected. It's hard. Really hard.
I thought the pain would be subsiding, the doctor would be kind, I thought my kids would obey, and Mike would say all the right things at the right times. I thought I'd be driving and getting on with life, seeing friends, and taking fun day trips with the kids. None of those things are true.

Realizing the false reality that has been built up in my head isn't hard, but accepting that it's not anyone but me is what's hard. My reality needs a lesson in submission.
I may have to go through more pain than I thought would be necessary and I may hear harsh things from the doctor. My kids are kids, being kids, and my husband may not say the perfect things at every moment. But lowering my expectations goes against my will, and it's strong. The expectations that somehow things revolve around me and my little situation is something that I have to release, and submit my thoughts back to reality.

Life is all that we make it. It doesn't always have a cute picture to go along. And in terms of spirituality, these days have been dark. I don't think I've had lower days, but it's me. My circumstances will always be changing and life will always be throwing things at me, but me, that I can change and handle.
My kids are beautiful and they're healthy. My husband is amazing, Godly, and sweeter than anyone I've ever met. My progress isn't what I thought, but who cares. Really. Life is all what we make it.

Get a grip

I wish I could count how many times I've said that phrase "get a grip"in the last week and a half. It's actually embarrassing when I think about it. It's hard for me to admit my flaws and unjust thinking, and that's why I've been away. I knew that times would get hard with recovery, but I don't think I knew how hard. Seems like that's always the case though, at least for myself, never painting a practical picture of the future. The picture that I paint is usually some lofty and whimsical state of being even in the most unpleasant circumstances. Stupidity really.

Life is such a gift though, and I feel sick to my stomach to think that I took it for granted even for such a short time.

I almost felt like I was pregnant again chanting little thoughts to myself such as "get a grip", or "don't cry". And I'm not pregnant by the way. But amidst all the negative thoughts and emotions, I have done so much soul searching. The good kind of soul searching, the really raw, uninterupted, unintimidated, unbiased thoughts. I've thought about our family and how dear it is to me, not in just an affectionate way, but as in blessing. Like, straight from God blessing. Straight from God, blows me away.

I've thought about my ideals and goals. Am I truly, prayerfully guided, or am I just trying to keep up with the Jones'. I don't want to have a big family just because it's cool right now, or go to the church I do because it's comfortable. I want to be led by conviction and desire, healthy desire, conviction, and passion. Man, I get frustrated at my own thoughts when I'm writing now, thinking how intentional my actions need to be versus what they are. So I will and I do.

I have so much. When I was little, my mom always used to say what I think is a Bible verse, but I don't know the reference or can't even say for sure that it is, regardless "To whom much is given, much is required". I understood it in a different way when I was young, much different, than I do now. I know I've tried to explain it to Eden several times in the past and her response is probably similar to what mine was back then, "well, Micah's not lucky". But he is, she is, and I am. Lucky. Or if that goes against your spiritual grain, blessed.

So, I think I'm out of the pit of despair so to say. My mind is focused on things that are true, honest, and just. Thankfully. I know this is a mental cycle that will probably keep circling my whole life. I'm embarrassed to admit my flaws but so thankful to see a few of them behind me for now. Hindsight's always 20/20.

Enjoy the ride

My mom sent me a card this morning

 and she had written

 "enjoy the ride, not the walk". 

It made me smile. 

Mentally resetting my mind

 every day is getting to be a habit, 

and I think with these little people around me,

 it helps to put things into perspective.

Enjoying the ride,

 still not easy for me

 as I want to constantly delegate

 and stretch what little

independence

 I have right now.

 This too shall pass

 and I need to digest

 all of the quiet moments that I have.

 There are a lot of quiet moments,

 a lot of times,

 more than I would like.

 I love the noise of children,

 the harsh, repetitive bangs of toy,

 the clopping of Eden in kitten heels,

 and even the irritated yells of Eden or Micah

 as one is bothering the other.

 When I don't hear it,

 I miss it,

 and I long for those noises to fill my ears.

Enjoying the ride

 has also meant letting go.

 Trusting my kids to learn

 to make decisions for themselves

 and to not interfere with every little move.

 Letting them be kids and having fun doing it,

 I guess is what I'm trying to describe.

 At times,

 I'm like a hovercraft over them,

 guiding them and in my perspective helping, but I'm not.

 It's funny how just sitting 

in a chair in the sun

 has made me admire

 Micah's chubby cheeks more

 or the way that his hair curls in the humidity.

 It's like I'm learning

 my children from a different perspective.

 From a distance,

 as in a calm (unable to meddle) mom,

 but so close that I see it all

 and can laugh and cry

 with them every step of the way.

 So again, today,

 I reset my mind

 and focus on enjoying the ride.

 It's calm right now

 and so easy when I think

 about the expectations that are upon me,

 they're nothing.

 This is beauty though,

 and I just need to wallow in it.

Everyday Joy

Proverbs 17:22 A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.

I feel like taking that verse very literal right now, as this whole not walking thing is getting old fast. Everyday I've been so great about mentally guarding my heart and mind, not letting negative thoughts and defeat come near, until today. I let them come.

It's like restarting your mind everyday when every morning getting dressed takes so much effort and little silly chores make me sweat buckets because of the extra effort. 

I have no business letting my mind go there because 

I'm beyond blessed.

Blessed, because I have two children who are darling beyond words and have their health.

Blessed, because I have a husband that is beyond amazing.

Blessed, because I've missed nothing and am making beautiful memories everyday.

 Blessed, because I know that God is so near.

And not to mention the weather, for real Wisconsin?

Like I said, blessed.

A few days ago...

...I scratched out these thoughts on paper while sitting in the sun:
"The sun is so healing", that's what I kept reminding myself as I laid in bed from nine to noon today. My pain was so intense, I was just laying there, occasionally glancing at the window and gauging the wind by the movement of the tree tops across the street. The pain meds the doctor gave me have pretty much shut down my digestive system, thus, at this point, I'm dealing with the pain. I decided I couldn't take it anymore and took some meds, telling myself that the "sun is so healing".

I grabbed two books from my stash next to my bed and tucked them in the waistband of my yoga pants. I only made it successfully down the stairs with the one book and had to climb more than half way up to retrieve the other.
I got outside to our back patio, sat, propped my foot up and closed my eyes. "The sun is so healing." I just sat there, feeling the warmth of the sun. I've decided it's one of my favorite things.
My mind began to think and process my two hardest trials in this whole surgery and recovery process: how Eden and Micah are dealing.

When I first crutched in the door last Thursday, Eden saw me and her little chin dimpled followed by her lip quivering. I was prepared for this, and expected that sort of reaction from her. What I didn't expect, was that five days later, I still hadn't held her, she still hadn't even sat on my lap. My heart, which is prayerfully guarded, began to hurt. I intentionally focused my thoughts on Micah and how he's come up with his own way of dealing.
Sunday afternoon, Micah began crying when Mike would put him down and we noticed he wouldn't walk. He would quickly lift his foot up off the ground and then all together refused to walk and would only crawl. Mike and I decided if symptoms like this continued, he'd have to take him in. We kept checking to see if he had any bruising or marks and racking our brains of when he could've gotten hurt. As we discussed, Micah got up and walked to the window. then he walked to get a toy and continued on until he reached the kitchen. Mike and I stared at each other with our mouths open. Seriously? He was totally fine, and we quickly thanked God for answering our prayers, thankful that our little boy was fine.
My writings from outside stopped there, interrupted by my little girl staring at me from the other side of the patio door. It was nap time and she had escaped, but I could tell by the expression on her face that she was doubting her decision of being in her room versus being with me. My arms ached for her and I beckoned her to come to me. She was so hesitant. But she came.

She walked slowly to me and reached up her arms for me to hold her. I cried, of course. I sat there, holding her, and remembering how wonderful this feeling was, and promising myself that I'd never take this for granted. It only lasted a few minutes, but it was precious and so dear to me.
Both kids have been fine ever since, a few days ago.