Ramblings of an English Teacher

Social Justice

2012-01-12T07:03:00.004-07:00

Did you know that 27 million women and children are enslaved around the world today? Did you know that 26,000 children die of hunger EVERY single day in this world? More than two billion people survive on less than 2 dollars a day and another million more survive on less than one! These statistics were staggering to me as I read them and heard them over the last few months. These things had been true for quite some time, how did I not know them before now? Had I heard these statistics before and just closed my ears? I'm not sure.

What I do know is that is was just ten years ago as a college sophomore that I was SO frustrated with the inundated message of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship that we as people of God should be about social justice. I felt like every day they were asking me to leave everything and walk into the world carrying my Bible like a sword. I felt as if they were saying what I was doing was not enough. I felt like they were belittling my life and telling me to find a new one. I took it personally. They never really explained to me what social justice was, or at least not that I can remember. I don't remember hearing these numbers; I don't remember conjuring images of cruel men using defenseless and scared women as their play things. I don't recall envisioning the hollow eyes of hungry children in need of just one nibble of food. If those images did appear they certainly didn't seem real to me.

But now they are completely real. Last Fall I read the book Radical by David Platt. The premise of the book is that it is important to take the American Dream out of the church and instead replace it God's word, God's calling. This book is powerful. I don't agree with everything he says and he uses hyperbole to make his point in a way that can be alienating to the reader, but the Holy Spirit was at work in my heart as I read Radical and I am radically changed.

For too long I have had my eyes closed to the desperate need of this world; the need of a Savior. I have known this truth intellectually and I have known this truth theoretically, but I haven't really known this truth in my heart of hearts. This world NEEDS Jesus. And it not only NEEDS Jesus, it NEEDS the people of Jesus to step up and fight for injustice. This world NEEDS me to partner with Jesus to feed the hungry, to free the captives, to bring truth. Whether I walk to their doorstep and deliver food or pray for the people who will, I NEED to DO something. I NEED to fight injustice, God has called me to it. Micah 6:8 says:

He has told you, O man, what is good;
And what does the LORD require of you
But to do justice, to love kindness,
And to walk humbly with your God?

The last part of the verse calls me to walk humbly; I believe that to be both in spirit and in lifestyle. I am now very aware of the money I spend and the cost that it is to the rest of the world. I love my coffee at Starbucks but when I drink it I think about how that $5 could have fed 5 children in a third world country. When we eat out, which is rarely now, I think about how much food could be purchased with our $30 bill for those who ache with an empty stomach. It's both a blessing and a curse to think on these things--I realize daily what a gift my life is, but I am also prompted to realize the swelling need in this world.

It's hard to say if I was responsible for the lives and hearts of these people in college when my eyes were closed to the injustice of this world. But now God has convicted my heart, He has made me aware, He has given me very powerful images of the pain and suffering in this world, so now I am accountable. I must do something. But what?

I am thinking on and working on this. I have started working with the refugee families in our community bringing friendship and partnership to families completely uprooted from everything they've ever known. I am hoping and praying about ways to bring food to new mothers who are on AHCCCS here in Tucson. And I am praying, praying for the nations, praying for the poor, praying for those who are enslaved. Psalm 2:8 says:

‘Ask of Me, and I will surely give the nations as Your inheritance,
And the very ends of the earth as Your possession.

I want to believe that prayer has the power to not only move mountains, but fill empty stomachs, break chains and bring salvation to the lost. So I am praying.

It has been hard for me these last months as God has been convicting my heart to watch others not feel the same conviction. My life and perspective has been changed and I want theirs to change as well. But I've come to realize that God convicts each heart in His own time. I'm sure that there were people in college who were frustrated with my lack of care and concern for social justice, but the Holy Spirit hadn't prompted my heart to that understanding yet. So I seek to be patient knowing that the Lord moves in His own timing.

But just because others aren't convicted as I am does not mean that I will stay silent. I must share what God is doing in my life because it is a powerful work! And as each one of us shares God continues to soften our hearts and reveal His truth to us. May our hearts always be softened and our ears open to hear what God is doing in this world. And may we never stop bringing God to a world so desperately in need of Him!

Season of Hope

2011-10-27T10:54:00.002-07:00

I'm not sure what I thought it would be like when Isabelle arrived. I certainly did not believe that Isabelle's presence would somehow erase the pain and sorrow over the death of Hope, but what I wasn't aware of is how much deeper the ache would be when we had Isabelle. You see, I now know with greater understanding how much I have missed and will continue to miss of Hope. I never did get to see Hope giggle or master the art of rolling or crawling or exploring. I will never snuggle with Hope in the wee hours of the night or hold her close when she cries. I won't have those moments where I just look at Hope with an overwhelming sense of God's love for me and my certain love for my sweet daughter. These moments are so precious with Isabelle and I am so incredibly grateful for them; I am so blessed to have Isabelle in my life and yet I still have a longing for Hope.

We're entering into the season of Hope, really we're already here. So many things about October and November trigger the memory of losing my sweet baby girl. Things like watching playoff baseball and choosing Halloween costumes remind me of sitting on the couch on bed rest wishing to be back at work. The first signs of the flu, runny nose, aching throat, take me back to the sleepless nights I spent at Herb's parents house when we were there for his reunion...the flu that started there was the beginning of the end. Silly things like the smell of smoke in Herb's car, which prompted a ridiculous argument right before we lost Hope, penetrate my memory. Our minds are so tragically beautiful in the way they remember. I am so grateful to remember the last moments I shared with Hope and yet the memories pain me when I am least expecting it.

I'm not sure what to do with the season of Hope this year. I am most certainly teary and I often find myself snuggling Isabelle for as long as she'll let me. I plan for us to go visit the Children's Memorial Park on the 10th, but these simple things don't seem like enough. And so, as with everything, I have to take it to Jesus. He has to be the one to hold Hope a little more tightly this year, to rejoice in her laughter, and clap at her milestones. Jesus has the joy of being Hope's Daddy in Herb's absence. Herb is the most amazing father I could have never imagined and I am grieved that Hope never knew him like Isabelle does, but Hope knows the greatest Father; the Father who never has to leave for work, or mow the lawn, or discipline her. The Father who gets to sit and watch her play every day to His great delight. I am so grateful that Hope knows her heavenly Father and now my daily prayer is that Isabelle will know Him the way Hope does.

In this season of Hope I will be teary, I will be overcome with memories, I will be sentimental, but I will also Hope. I love her name--it is the definition of how I get through days, of who I know my God to be. My sweet baby girl lives on in her name and in my heart through this season and always.

Remember Dreams Come True!

2011-08-29T18:54:00.002-07:00

This last weekend Herb and I had the pure joy of taking Isabelle to Disneyland for the first time! Because our annual passes had expired we weren't sure when we'd be able to return but I had a few days left on a military pass from Thanksgiving and we gave Herb a ticket for Father's day. So off to Anaheim we went on Thursday. I was more nervous about the drive than I was about taking Izzy into the park. I wouldn't say the drive went smoothly but we only added an hour total to our usual journey and she didn't all out cry for more than 10 minutes total, so I would call it a success. Sadly she didn't sleep much in the car so when we arrived at the hotel she was SUPER tired! Sleeping in a new environment and under non-ideal circumstances had her awake at 7:30 Friday morning (despite going to bed around 1) OR perhaps she was just far too excited about Disneyland to sleep! I choose to believe the latter!

We arrived at the park, walked through those magical gates and took the all important family picture in front of Mickey and the train. Isabelle was enjoying just taking in the sights and sounds of Main Street. We introduced her to pin trading right away and even found a few pins she liked ;-) Then we went to get Space Mountain fast passes and found that the line was only 10 minutes! This Momma had not ridden Space Mountain in over two years so we left Izzy with Grandma and took off on our roller coaster type ride through space. It had been so long since I had been on the ride that I didn't remember the turns, which made the ride all that much more exciting!

When we got off we headed toward Peter Pan to Herb's chagrin and my great joy! I couldn't think of a better ride to introduce Isabelle to the joy of Disneyland than those flying boats. As we waited in the queue people looked adoringly at our sweet girl and she began to fade. By the time we reached the boat she had zonked out! She woke up briefly when Captain Hook reared his ugly head but continued her doze in the stroller for another half an hour. Meanwhile my mom and I rode Indiana Jones while Herb stayed with Izzy, and then Herb and I hopped on the Big Thunder and enjoyed the Wildest Ride in the Wilderness! By the time we returned our Bean was wide awake. We went to the baby center to eat and Isabelle was far to interested in all of the other babies and pictures on the wall to eat. She just loves to take in everyone and everything! She's so observant and interested in the world around her! I think it was the perfect time for her first Disneyland adventure!

Before we headed off for lunch we made a quick stop at Buzz Lightyear. I'm pretty sure this was Isabelle's favorite ride! She kept looking around at all the lights and talking, talking, talking through the whole thing! Because the ride stopped I managed to get a pretty darn high score even with an Izzy on my lap, but sadly she was too little to show up in the picture :-( But we know she was there and that she had a great time!

For lunch we met my Aunt Kasey, and cousins Domo and Megan at ESPN Zone for lunch. We let Isabelle roll around on a blanket on the floor, which she loved, and she also had a grand old time watching the 20 sports filled TVs! Herb held her while we ate lunch--he figured his hamburger and fries were easy enough to consume with an Izzy on his lap. Lo and behold I look over to find that Isabelle has snatched up a french fry from his plate and is gnawing away at it! I wish we had snapped a picture before snatching it away from her! She had a sly look in her eye--she knew what she had gotten away with! Once the fry was pried from her hand she started reaching for Herb's Coke Zero. I'm pretty confident she's his kid ;-)

Isabelle fell asleep as we walked back to California Adventure, so we grabbed some Soaring fast passes and went to check out the new Little Mermaid ride. The ride was fantastic and beautiful! It really felt like we were Under the Sea, but sadly Ursala was a bit too loud for Izzy and she woke up again. My poor sweet girl was just too excited to nap!

Herb took Izzy to the room to let her roll around a bit while Mom and I headed back into the park to ride Splash Mountain in attempts to cool off. It was hotter than blazes both days, which was quite exhausting, and sadly we didn't get wet on Splash. I think that anytime you actually want to get wet on Splash you never do and conversely anytime you want to be dry you find yourself drenched! So we opted for a Dole Whip to cool off while we watched the new Soundsational Parade. I can't wait until Isabelle is old enough to watch the parade intently! I love watching the faces of little kids as the characters pass by!

When we went back to the room Isabelle was still super warm. So she and I took a bath swim to cool down. Boy did she have a great time in the bath tub! I'm pretty sure that the bath tub was her favorite ride at Disneyland! She splashed and splashed and splashed! After she had cooled down I tried to put her to sleep for the night so that Herb and I could head back to watch fireworks. Our sweet girl was just far too overtired to sleep, so we didn't make it to the night shows that evening, which was absolutely okay with me! My precious Isabelle is well worth it!

Saturday we started our day with a super tired girl! So she and I walked to the park and back to the hotel so she could get a nap while Dad and Grandma rode Screamin'. When we got back to the park, we met Grandma in the Toy Story Mania ride and Isabelle had her first 3-D experience! She had SO much fun! I managed to keep the glasses on her for the whole ride and she just kept watching intently as we played the game! I loved it!

After a snack at the baby center we headed to meet my Aunt Kasey and Tara for lunch for Tara's birthday at Tortilla Joe's. Isabelle was just done at this point--she was awfully hot and tired and just couldn't fall asleep :-( So finally I took her upstairs in the restaurant to feed her and she fell asleep in moments. Of course she only slept for 20 minutes, but at least she woke up as a happy baby! She played with Tara and Aunt Kasey and gave them lots of giggles and smiles, but she clearly needed another nap. So Herb and I took her back to the hotel for another bath time swim and a nap. The swim was just as much fun as the day before and she conked out pretty quickly. She took two 40 minute naps but was still a weary little girl, but she was awake so we headed back to the park to do a few more rides.

Isabelle added Pirates of the Caribbean to her ride list. Her favorite part of the ride was the waterfalls at the beginning after the drop! They probably reminded her of her bath tub ride :-) Then we headed over to It's a Small World and she was enthralled with all of the colors and characters. She kept looking from side to side trying to take it all in! I even caught her singing along once or twice! Two rides, however, was her fun limit for the evening, so I took her back to the hotel while Grandma and Dad rode a few more rides. We stopped for a churro on Main Street and Isabelle fell asleep. The cinnamon and sugar did sprinkle all over her like fairy dust and away we flew back to Never Never Land!

After I fed her and put her down, Grandma and I traded places and I joined Herb to watch World of Color. It really is a spectacular show, but my body and mind were SO weary at this point! I think Izzy and I were having parallel experiences, I just wasn't allowed to cry about mine ;-) Herb and I ate and shopped on Main Street and then headed back to the hotel about as exhausted as we could be!

The next morning Isabelle was still SUPER tired, but we loaded her in the car and took off. She slept off and on on the way home and thanks to Grandma she watched a few episodes of Friends to keep her company. When we got home Isabelle learned how incredibly wonderful it is to sleep in her own bed! She slept for 12 hours, only waking to eat once, and this tired Momma slept for 10 of those 12!

I can't really explain how amazing it was to take my sweet girl to experience my favorite place in the whole world. It was so incredibly redemptive of the many broken dreams and heartaches I experienced in the days and months after we lost Hope and Joseph. Watching Isabelle's face as she soaked up Main Street and the sights and sounds of Peter Pan and It's a Small World brought such joy to my heart! Even though I know she won't remember this experience, I will remember for her. I will share these memories with her and be able to retell these moments as we return back year after year.

As Isabelle and I walked back to the hotel alone on Saturday evening I told her how much I appreciated that she came to share Disneyland with me. I told her that this was just one of the many times we would venture here as a family and that I couldn't wait for each milestone that she would have here--the pure awe on her face when she first watches the fireworks, the first time she asks to ride Dumbo, the first time she meets a height requirement for a ride, the moment when she holds on to Herb's hand with trepidation as she climbs the stairs to ride Screamin' and the complete joy of victory written all over her face when she walks off. These will all be great moments in Isabelle's life and in mine. And this, this trip, is where it all began. I told Isabelle how I had been dreaming about these moments for so long, and how incredible it was to finally be blessed with the chance to hold my sweet girl as I walked through those gates. "Isabelle, this weekend was a dream come true for your Momma. I just wanted you to know that." I think she heard me, I think she was listening, and if not, I know God heard my words of praise and thanksgiving for the amazing gift He had given me. My God is a God of redemption, of dreaming dreams far greater than I can ever imagine. I am so grateful for the Granter of my dreams. Words can't really express how I feel, so I'll leave it to Julie Andrews. As she so wisely says at the end of my favorite fireworks show, "Remember Dreams Come True".

Isabelle Noelle

2011-06-02T13:37:00.002-07:00

I have a few moments while Isabelle is napping (if you've been following me on Facebook you know what a great blessing that is in and of itself!) and I wanted to write a post. I have been wanting to write a blog entry since March 15th, but I've been a little busy with my inspiration :-)

On March 15th, 2011 at 8:30 am Isabelle Noelle was born and I know heaven rejoiced with Herb and me as we welcomed her into our lives. While there were tearful reminders of Hope's birth throughout the night, there were constant glimpses of God's redemption at every step. The same nurse who comforted me in Hope's death, rejoiced with me in Isabelle's life. Instead of an evil anesthesiologist who didn't care that I was in pain, I had an understanding doctor who talked about Disneyland with me. God was with me each and every moment and first thing that Tuesday morning Isabelle arrived in my arms.

I have lots of details about her birth, but I think those aren't as important as the wonderful details about her life that I've been collecting. Here are just a few highlights:

She's a skinny little thing who was hesitant to put on weight, but now she has quite the chubby thighs going on.

Isabelle is a girl who knows what she wants. If she's bored with a toy, she'll let you know and you must find a suitable replacement.

Izzy LOVES to watch the show Friends. When it is on she will stare at the TV intently. When commercials intervene she looks away and carries on a conversation with me. When the show returns she is back to being enthralled with Joey, Chandler, Monica and the gang!

She already loves to talk! She has several voices and loves to use them! Herb said yesterday that Izzy and Mommy will have lots of coffee dates in her life because that's how much she loves to chat :-)

Belle is a people person! Whenever there are other people around she wants to be awake, alert and aware of everything that is going on. When I brought her to school she couldn't get enough of my students! She will be quite the social butterfly!

She loves the wind, thank goodness we live in the wind tunnel known as Vail! Izzy will turn her head toward the breeze and let the wind wash over her.

Isabelle is one strong little girl! When we took her to the doctor a few weeks ago, she was quite upset with her check up so when the doctor tried to sit her forward Isabelle just stood right up! She's already rolling over from her tummy to her back and she loves to look around during tummy time. I'm afraid I'm going to be chasing her around the house before I know it!

Herb is in love with his little girl! I love watching him love on her. He waits as long as humanly possible to leave for work in the morning if it will mean a few snuggles with Izzy to get him through the day. He has already caved to her hypothetical request for a dog, and he told me he gets teary eyed thinking about taking Belle to Disneyland! I love the man I married and I am thrilled at the father he will be and is for Belle!

Isabelle Noelle is joy, and redemption and Hope! I can't express the ways she's transformed our life. I think she will be changing lives with every step she takes in this life and I am overwhelmingly blessed to be her Momma!

The Promised Child

2010-12-21T05:39:00.003-07:00

"Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful." Hebrews 10:23

After writing my previous post on Saturday, the last few words of this verse echoed in my heart--"for He who promised is faithful." Those words continued to resonate in my mind as I went through my day to day all weekend. Sunday night at church they gained a new meaning to me.

I am not sure what the official title of the sermon was on Sunday, but I think it could've easily been called "The Promised Child". Our pastor spoke about the prophecy in Isaiah 11. He started with background of the sad state of affairs Israel was in. Isaiah was called to be a prophet who bore terrible news about the current heart of Israel--the kings they had so desperately pleaded with God for were selfish and power-seeking and had led their nation astray. The people themselves continued the pattern of old, turning from God and turning to idols or other men to lead them. Isaiah was called by God to deliver the tough truth to the Israelites, to point them back toward God. So when Isaiah speaks of the "shoot" that will "spring up from the root of Jesse", he speaks of deliverance to a nation in desperate need of hope.

Isaiah 11 continues on to prophesy the many ways Jesus will offer healing to His people. He will be led by the spirit, He will delight in fear of the Lord, He will see beyond what is seen with His eyes. He will defeat the wicked. He will be clothed in righteousness and faithfulness. He will bring peace. And then verse 6 arrives: "and a little child will lead them". Isaiah is promising deliverance, He is promising hope, He is promising salvation and all of these promises will come through a child.

The pastor then went on to describe the 700 years between this prophecy and the day Jesus was born. Those 700 years were bleak and oftentimes the people of Israel were without any new word from God. They were called to wait, to wait watching for the Promised Child. I just think of how many generations passed with no visible word or sign from God. They looked for signs of who He had promised but they weren't able to find any. They were asked to believe that "He who promised is faithful" because they had seen just that over and over again in their nation's history. They were asked to put faith in the character of God as so clearly demonstrated in the past, not in the seeming absence of God as perceived by the events of the present. Was God absent? Of course not! But the promise was seemingly absent and I can imagine that it would have been diffcult to not feel hopeless in those moments, no, eras, of waiting.

But then, oh then, Jesus arrived in Bethlehem! The Promised Child had come to fulfill each piece of Isaiah's prophecy! After 700 years of waiting, Jesus arrived, the Prince of Peace was here! Rejoice! "Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased!" The promise was so gloriously, so miraculously fulfilled! He who promised was indeed faithful!

The pastor closed by discussing the importance of the darkness, the 700 years of waiting, in knowing the true hope that was born that day in Bethlehem. What if the Israelites weren't living in captivity? What if the Israelites were thriving and growing with the Lord? Would the need for a savior, for the Promised Child, have been so great? Would the joy of the birth of our Redeemer have been as powerful? What need do we have for Hope--for the anticipation of what is unseen and yet to come--if what we have is perfection? Where is the need for Hope if our life is full of light? It is only in the absence of light, in the anguish of this world, that we know how much we need the Promised Child.

I have drawn many parallels between my life and this sermon over the past few days. Not that Isabelle's birth will ever rival that of Jesus, but she is a promised child. I believed for many years that God had called me to be a mother. I knew this was part of His design for me, and after we lost Hope I began to question that calling. I think about the darkness I wandered in after losing Hope, I think about the captivity that was doubt, I think about the deep reassurance I had that He who promised was faithful. Some days I just had those words--God is faithful--but no more than that. I was asked by God to wait 8 months for fulfillment of His promise, and I am choosing not to dwell on the poor job I did of that when the Israelites were asked to wait 700 years.

Instead I'm choosing to focus on how much joy this promised child is bringing me. I think the anticipation of the arrival of Isablle has opened my eyes to even a glimpse of the anticipation that must have been felt by the Israelites 2000 years ago. The Promised Child brought light into the darkness, redeemed the anguish experienced in the waiting, resonated the faithfulness of the Father. Isabelle certainly resonates the faithfulness of the Father in my life!

So this Christmas season I sing with new understanding of how precious the gift of Jesus was on that night in Bethlehem 2000 years ago. I am so grateful for the promises God fulfills. And yet again, I rejoice and profess my Hope without wavering that "He who promised is faithful."

God's Promise

2010-12-18T07:55:00.003-07:00

"Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful." Hebrews 10:23

I think this is one of my new favorite verses! For the last year I have confessed, professed, my Hope in Jesus. My daughter's name was no accident--Hope was named to remind me of the great Hope I have in my heavenly Father. Hope's name proclaimed a virtue I most adamantly hold to and believe in. Hope testified to the great anticipation I have in knowing Jesus, that someday I will meet my Father and someday I will again hold my precious daughter. And I can hold to this hope because "He who promised is faithful."

Herb and I have been asked often what our little girl's name will be. Herb wanted to hold out on sharing her name but has since changed his mind. In his desire to be silent, I would often tell others that I could not share her name, but that I would say her name means "God's promise". Of course, Google being the powerhouse that it is, people would then email me their guesses. I could never confirm or deny, but often they guessed incorrectly.

I am happy to get to share her name with others because it holds to me just as much meaning as Hope's does. Forever this little girl will be a reminder that "He who promised is faithful." She is a fulfillment of God's promised joy amidst our anguishing sorrow. She is a fulfillment of God's promised Hope for the good He had in store. She is a fulfillment of a calling I believed with all my heart God had for Herb and I--to be parents. This little one embodies so many of God's promises and I love that her name reflects just that.

If you've read this far then you definitely deserve to know the name of our daughter. Coming in March we will be welcoming Isabelle Noelle to our little family! She will be a delight and a light to all who know her, and I can't wait to meet her!

Thankful

2010-11-24T12:58:00.001-07:00

Cara gave everyone this assignment and since I always complete ALL of my assignments, I decided to post my work for all to see. Happy Thanksgiving! I am one thankful woman--this doesn't even begin to cover it!

Time--I'm grateful that I've had more time this semester with the help of a student-teacher!
Herb--I can't imagine where my life would be without a husband who makes me laugh and lets me cry!
Able--I am thankful for the ways God is able; able to forgive, able to heal, able to redeem, able to love and SO much more!
New--I am thankful for the new experiences and people who come into my life! I am thankful I've been made new!
Kerry and Kevyn and all the Ks in my life--my family enriches each experience I have and holds me through the difficult ones!
Food--I LOVE experiencing food, traditional favorites and new flavors! I think it's one of God's greatest gifts!
Understanding--I am grateful for those who seek to understand my heart and love me unconditionally!
Love--Love, both divine and common, enriches my life so much!

Remembering

2010-10-28T10:47:00.003-07:00

I can't explain how thankful I am when others remember Hope. I know it is easy to forget her, after all very few people even met her, but I am so grateful when people remember my precious girl without my prompting.

A most beautiful example of this beauty came from my friend Janell last weekend. We were on our way home from a baby shower, and Janell said she wanted to ask me something. She asked if I wanted Hope honored in some way at my baby shower for this newest little girl. Janell said that she didn't want to forget Hope and her significance, and so her thought had been to make shirts in honor of Hope for my shower. Of course I started to cry and was so overwhelmed with the gentle sweetness of this gesture--so simple yet so profound to my mother's heart. What a perfect representation of God's love for me and for Hope reflected in the heart of my dear friend Janell!

Then just last night my thoughtful sister asked what we were doing to celebrate Hope's birthday. She asked if I wanted to celebrate alone or if I wanted company. Kevyn sweetly remembered that this day is quickly approaching and wanted to make sure that we honored my precious daughter! I love that I didn't even have to ask--Kevyn just made it a point to remember and offer her comfort and her company. What a gift my sister is and how thankful I am for her remembering!

Not everyone will remember and not everyone has to, but I am so grateful for those who do. It is in that remembering that I feel like Hope is valued, like she is a part of my family, that she will never be forgotten. These are things that I very much feel everyday, but I am overwhelmed when others share those feelings with me. What a gift my friends and family are and what a present their remembering is to me! Thank you for those who help me in my remembering, who share in the remembering with me. You lessen my load and lighten my heart.

It's a Girl!

2010-10-22T14:54:00.012-07:00

We had our 20 week ultrasound on Wednesday and it was one of the most fun experiences of my life! I barely slept the night before--just imagining getting to see our little one again and finally knowing who we should be expecting in 20 weeks was more than my mind could handle! I tossed and turned and finally just got out of bed at 4:30, mostly because I was starving! The fun part was that our little one was going crazy all morning long; I think she was just as excited as we were!

On my way to the ultrasound I drank some OJ, I've heard that is helpful, and listened to my Hope play list. There were of course many tears as I drove to the ultrasound, missing Hope, wishing I had had this day with Hope, but mostly there were tears of complete joy knowing that God had prepared this way for us. I was completely tear-filled and humbled as I listened to the words:

I believe always, always our Savior never fails
Even when all hope is gone
God knows our pain and His promise remains
He will be with you always

My Savior has not failed me. He has been so incredibly faithful to me that I cannot even begin to articulate the myriad of ways He's comforted me and renewed so many things that were lost. I can see how Jesus fulfilled Isaiah 43:19 in me " See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?" How many new things my Father has done in me! I can't even count them! This joy, this peace in knowing that God is at work, that He never fails, filled me with great tears of joy Wednesday morning.

When we arrived at the perinatal center, we had to wait for what seemed like an eternity. The OJ had clearly kicked in right on time; at 9:15 the baby was bouncing away in my uterus, but we had to wait! As we sat there waiting Herb asked how I was feeling, and I said "Excited and nervous!" He said "What's there to be nervous about? It's going to be a baby!" Oh my smart alec husband!

Finally they called us in around 9:45 and sadly we did not get our beloved ultrasound tech, but our new tech was very sweet as well. She also asked about Hope and was very mindful of how tender of an experience this was for me. She began looking around and there was our sweet baby, hiccups and all! The baby was moving around like crazy and was honestly giving the tech a bit of a hard time. But we saw a powerful, steady heart beat with perfect 4 chambers of the heart! The baby's brain looked particularly huge--I think it must be Herb's! And her spine looked perfect!

As we tried to discern the gender we discovered that the baby's legs were crossed! At this point I called the baby a brat! I did, I couldn't help it! Does that make me a bad mother? But the tech navigated around enough to find the ovaries, verifying that our baby was indeed a girl! I didn't completely trust her conclusion, so I was thankful when I asked again about two minutes later if the baby had uncrossed her legs and she had! Yep, she's a girl! I was right, which is mostly only satisfying because I feel like my mother's intuition is spot on! I don't think Herb was too disappointed to be wrong. I'm very much envisioning her to be daddy's little girl about 20 seconds after she's born!

After all of this I slyly mentioned to the tech that the reason I thought the baby was a girl was because of the 3D picture at the previous ultrasound. She either took my hint or was just very gracious because then she tried to get us a 3D picture. But our little girl at this point was tuckered out from all of her squirming around and was now curled up on her arms and legs, butt up in the air with her face pressed firmly against the bottom of my uterus. Because the tech couldn't get a good profile angle we didn't get a 3D picture this time, but that's okay. The pictures we have are wonderful!

As we walked out of the building Herb and I both said our daughter's name; we've had it chosen for quite some time now. It is perfect for her! I've loved calling her by that name since the moment we discovered she is a girl! Herb isn't quite ready to share yet, but it's really only a matter of time before I slip up! And luckily Herb knows this too and is ready for that day!

We went over to my OB for my 20 week appointment and called our moms. Both grandmas are super excited about a healthy baby and about our little girl! Then the texting began! It was so fun to share with everyone our news! I know no one, including us, really cared which gender our baby was, they were more concerned about healthy, but it is SO fun to give a more concrete definition to our little one! My appointment went well and I am so incredibly thankful for Dr. Riley. She acknowledged that this must be a tough time of year for me and a tough time in my pregnancy. Because of this she told me I could come in any day I was feeling concerned or worried and listen to my little one's heartbeat. What a relief to know that if I just need that extra reassurance it is there for me! What a blessing, truly!

After my appointment Herb and I parted ways. Coming to work was a little anticlimactic but there were plenty of excited people there to make me feel loved. I definitely couldn't focus the rest of the day! I spent a great deal of time looking at girly nursery things online and day dreaming about my little girl!

That night Herb brought me pink tulips and told me they were from our daughter! What a precious, sweet thing for my husband to do! I am the luckiest girl in the world to have the people in my life that I do, my husband being at the top of that list!

Herb then took me shopping at Target so that we could buy our first little girl outfit! Herb was humorously enamored with all things boy, and I had to remind him that now we know we're having a girl! I think he'll get used to the idea--he just likes orange and monkeys and sports--all boy things. But he actually picked out the outfit we purchased--it's a little red with pink polka dot footed sleeper that says "Mom and Dad's little cuddle bear"! Adorable! She's going to look wonderful in it :-)

After that I went home and crashed! I was exhausted from the emotions and the events of the day, but I slept easy dreaming of my little girl, the girl I cannot wait to hold in my arms come March! Praise God for this day and the moments He has given me with our beautiful baby! I am blessed beyond all measure!

Here are some pictures from the ultrasound:

This is the ovary shot!

I LOVE this little foot!

She's sucking her thumb!

Dr. Riley asked whose nose this was and I'm sorry to say baby girl that I think it's mine! Hopefully I gave you some of my good traits too ;-)

Grief Moments

2010-10-05T15:17:00.003-07:00

I think I'm entering into what will be the hardest weeks of my pregnancy and of my grief process. Everything about this time of year is reminding me of Hope. Leaving on vacation for Fall break was really hard for me; it dredged up a lot of fear about this pregnancy. You see my vacation to Philadelphia last Fall was the last thing I really remember doing with Hope--in some ways it was the beginning of the end. So as I stepped on the plane last Friday I shed many tears of grief and fear. I am having a very hard time believing that I will make it past week 19 of this pregnancy, not for any reason other than 19 weeks of pregnancy is all that I know. And that's been hard too...

There have been moments in these last weeks that have triggered great sadness for me, moments that are glorious and painful all at the same time. These moments are moments I never had the chance to have with Hope; these moments were the moments I was waiting for with such great anticipation last year around this time. Two weeks ago my dear friend had her 20 week ultrasound and found out the sex of her baby. I was SO excited for her but all of the sudden also overwrought with grief remembering how I never really had that moment with Hope. I was so looking forward to that moment with her and it never came. And I think that was just a small piece of the emotions I will feel in two weeks when I get to have my 20 week ultrasound with this baby. Of course I will be thrilled to discover the gender and receive verification that this baby is healthy, but there will be a shade of grief over the moment knowing that I never did have and never will have that experience with Hope.

In that same vein I couldn't help but be thrilled last week when I started to feel this baby move! It is such a delicate and precious feeling; the movement creates such a bond between me and the baby. And yet there are moments when I can't help but cry--I never knew this sensation with Hope. These flutters are all new to me, but I wish they weren't. I wish I could have had these moments with my sweet little girl. Does that diminish the joy I feel with this baby? Not at all, but the longing for my Hope is just the same.

And I wonder, I wonder if I will have these moments every once in a while with huge milestones in this new child's life. Will the milestones trigger what I've missed out on with Hope? Or are these particular milestones more powerful because I was so close to having them with her last year at this time? I'm sure it's a little of both. I'm sure I will always have a hollow ache for my Hope, a tender place that's only hers. But that's okay because it is a reminder of the important role she has in my life; she is my daughter and no future children will change that. There will be missed moments with her, just as there will be moments shared with this new child. That is the reality of my life, my grief.

So as I walk into these next two weeks of pregnancy, the final weeks of pregnancy I'm familiar with, I admit great fear. I actually considered calling my doctor and asking if she would see me weekly between now and 20 weeks, just so that I could have reassurance that everything was still okay. These next weeks will be an exercise in trust and faith in ways that go beyond how this whole pregnancy has been exactly that. I have to dare to believe that this 17th week, this 18th week, this 19th week will be different than the last.

And as I walk into this next month of reminders, this month leading to November 10th, I will be teary, I will have grief moments. These were the last days with my Hope. There will be days, events, happenstances that trigger overwhelming memories and overwhelming grief. This will be a hard month, but again, that's as it should be. I should remember these days and moments because they are a part of my story, of Hope's, and of our story together. These days changed my life forever and I can't change or ignore that. And so I won't ignore them--I will walk through them and I will cry through them and I will end up on the other side of them.

Because although these are grief moments, they are also brief moments. They will not consume me forever, for there is joy coming. "So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy" John 16:22. Oh will there be joy!

Until then bear with my brief moments of grief, walk alongside me, try to understand, and if you don't, just try to trust that I am doing the best that I can with what I have. And know that this is only for a time--this is what I must believe as well, that these grief moments will pass.

Glimpses of Glory

2010-09-01T08:27:00.005-07:00

"Once you feel the weight of glory, all your pain will fade to memory" ~"Before the Morning" by Josh Wilson

"All of the sudden I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory" ~"How He Loves Us" by David Crowder Band

I've been trying to think of a way to encapsulate my emotions for the last week, a way to concisely express the roller coaster I have been riding. I am not sure that I will do the last 7 days justice, but I want to try.

As we anticipated our ultrasound last Tuesday, I vacillated between immense excitement and intense fear. I was so excited to see our wee-one again, to see that little baby that I have already fallen for! But I also was fearful--fearful that the ultrasound would show no beating heart or debilitating Down's syndrome. Even as we sat in the waiting room awaiting our appointment, I wasn't sure what to trust, what to believe. But I did know that there were several butterflies flitting in front of the perinatal building when we walked in, which did leave me feeling hopeful.

When they called us back to the ultrasound room, I was thankful to see a familiar face. The same woman who performed our ultrasound at 8 weeks was there again to do this one. She remembered us, remembered our story, and was SO incredibly sweet to us! She explained in great detail what we were looking for and then took a lot of time in showing us the baby. She (I SO wish I could remember her name) excitedly thanked me for having such a full bladder (you know me, always happy to oblige in that area!) and exclaimed that the baby was posing perfectly for the pictures she needed. Then she happily announced that the thickness of the baby's neck was picture perfect--exactly what we would want to see! After she took the pictures she needed, she then just took some time letting us watch our little one! The baby was SO active bouncing around, pulling on the umbilical cord, showing us all angles. What a joy to be able to observe our baby's movements and actions! The tech then offered to take a 3D picture of the baby--this was and is the most precious gift I've received! I love that we can see her/his little face--I'm in love with this face!
The ultrasound tech then checked for the baby's gender, explaining that she would only be able to tell us for certain if it was a boy. There appeared to be nothing there, so she said she was leaning toward girl, but she couldn't say for certain. Daddy Herb claims that this means nothing--he is still sticking with his claims of a boy, but to me this face looks like he might just be wrong...but we'll see!

After the ultrasound the tech took me back to get my blood drawn. As I settled into my chair I looked up to the wall and found the most beautiful picture of a monarch butterfly gracing my eyes! This baby, this experience was blessed with the hope of a butterfly, a big, faith-filled butterfly!

While I cried many tears of joy, I realized I was getting a glimpse of glory, a glimpse of God's presence in my life. So many songs, so many verses promise that when we are eclipsed by God's glory all pain will fade. I was by no means eclipsed, or immersed in glory, but I did get a peek, a precious, life-giving peek. God's glory allowed me such joy, such immense joy in those moments, that my pain was standing in the background. It hadn't disappeared, in fact it absolutely colored my experience, but it colored my experience in a true way--the glory was greater because I knew the pain. The pain did become more memory than reality in those moments. God showed me His glory, in a gracious hope-giving blessing that I am so grateful for!

In the days following I must have glowed like Moses after his mountain top glimpse of glory! But quickly the glimpse of glory slipped from my mind because of fear. Friday morning I was unplugging my charger from an outlet and I shocked my hand pretty badly. Instantly I was overwhelmed by fear--fear that I had just killed this baby. I couldn't shake the overwhelming sadness and trepidation that came from the what ifs. I called the doctor and initially the receptionist said that I would have to go to triage to make sure everything was okay. I was terrified because it was in that very triage that I found out Hope was dead. After the receptionist spoke with the doctor, the doctor reassured me that everything was perfectly fine--there was nothing to fear. While I struggled to believe that I couldn't help but notice how God cared for me.

Butterflies, butterflies everywhere. All weekend long I constantly encountered butterflies. I even found a set of butterfly pins at Disneyland! God is so good to have reassured me, comforted me with this symbol of hope that is mine, my gift from my heavenly Father! I have come to realize that butterflies are another glimpse I get of God's glory, God's magnificence. Because when I see these butterflies I am overwhelmed with the love of my Father, the gentle way that He cares for me. I am radiant after seeing these peeps at butterflies because I know my God is good; He sees my need and meets me in that place.

I cannot wait until I am able to be washed over by God's glory, until all my pain will fade to memory, until I can no longer see my afflictions. I cannot wait to move beyond small glimmers of glory and bask in the the warmth of it all. But until then, oh am I thankful for my glimpses of glory, for the moments when I am reminded of who God is and how overwhelmingly magnificent He is! And I am grateful for my little ones--this baby growing inside of me and my Hope and Joseph revisiting me with their butterflies--and how they enable me to see the glory of my gracious God!

Butterflies

2010-08-10T17:26:00.004-07:00

Butterflies are a beautiful symbol in my family. They represent hope, the presence of loved ones and comfort. In some ways they represent new life. Their symbolism began the day of my Grandma Pat's memorial service. As my Grandpa stood before her dearest friends and family a precious black and orange butterfly gracefully landed on the podium next to him. This beautiful butterfly stayed with him as he spoke and followed him right to his seat when he was finished. From that day forward our family came to cherish the butterfly as a simple reminder that our Grandma would always be with us.

3 years later my Aunt Kelly stood before a gathering of our dearest family and friends to share words of remembrance for my Grandpa Read. As she stood in the same spot my Grandpa had stood just years before, two butterflies flitted to the podium and danced above her head. God sent us a reminder that Grandma and Grandpa were never far from us--their memory and presence were felt in the flitting of wings and the vibrancy of color.

12 years later I found myself looking for a renewed sense of hope after the loss of my Hope. I was reminded of the butterfly, of the beautiful picture of hope it unveils. The butterfly must struggle for what seems an eternity in order to emerge as something more breath-taking and glorious. She breaks free from the bondage of her struggle to find that she can fly and experience life in a way she never knew before. The butterfly was to be my new symbol of hope, and my mom graciously gave me a necklace to signify this new emblem. I wear my butterfly necklace with anticipation of the glory God might reveal in me.

It was two weeks after I placed this necklace on my neck that I found myself in Ohio visiting Lindsay. On July 3, Aunt Kelly's birthday, we took a pregnancy test and discovered the great joy of baby number 3! What excitement but oh what fear Herb and I experienced in those next days! But God is gracious--a white butterfly came to visit me every day that I was in Ohio, no matter which city we were in. Hope, my precious girl, and Jesus, my precious Savior, brought me a reminder that there is hope. I felt like God was reminding me that it was okay, it was good, to believe in the plans that He has for me. And I felt as though Hope was urging me to believe it was okay for me to move forward. I felt Hope allowing me to welcome this new life into our lives, in fact modeling for me how important and easy it was to embrace this new little one.

I thought for sure that the butterflies would not appear once we left Ohio. After all Ohio is green and lush and I couldn't remember the last time I saw a butterfly in Arizona. But not one day have I been left alone. Each morning when I back out of my driveway or walk onto school's campus or drive to the grocery store, there she is, my precious Butterfly! I have not been left alone in my fear but instead have been surrounded by my Hope. I have to believe that these butterflies represent not only the new life growing within me, but the new life God has cultivated in my heart as a result of Hope's life.

So while I certainly have butterflies about this new pregnancy, I also have Butterflies to remind me that I walk this journey with Hope! Thank you Jesus for the Butterflies!

My Name

2010-07-24T15:35:00.002-07:00

I wrote this as an example assignment for my students this week, but I'm really quite fond of it. So I thought I'd post it here. Nothing enlightening or thought-provoking, just a little bit of me on paper!

My Name

My name is the sound of a girl in tattered jeans and a dirty shirt with scraped up knees running into her mother’s kitchen. My name is short and sweet like the dips of my fingers in the cookie batter. It is friendly and gentle. It is too young. It means pure, it means set apart. My name is the sound of a light tune being sung while you work.

I am named for Katherine Hepburn, an old actress my mother loved. She wasn’t beautiful or graceful, but she was classy and tough, just like me. My father made her promise I would be called Katie—a short, childlike name that I would want to shed as an adultlike child. But I’ve grown into the childishness of my name just like a teenage girl who finally grows into her nose.

My middle name, Suzanne, is my grandmother’s middle name. I like to think that I carry a piece of her feistiness with me. I know I carry her love for writing, reading and politics, but she had a wild card quality that I hope I embody. She used to sit and argue with my grandpa as they raced through an intense game of Dr. Mario on their Nintendo—I know I have that fierce competitiveness with my husband!

There have been moments when I wanted to shed my name, to find a name more unique like that of my sister. Everyone always remembered a Kevyn, but the taller girl standing next to her became “what was your name again?” I wanted a memorable name, one that meant something. But now my name does mean something—it means me. Katie Sue is the fun-loving, tender hearted, pure woman of her name. No other name will do!

It's not fair!

2010-07-18T09:57:00.003-07:00

I've been pondering this blog topic for quite some time now, but haven't really felt that I was in the right place to write it. But I finally decided that I should try to write it despite where I am in life...that's what my blog is all about...honesty.

I've been plagued a lot recently with the "It's not fair"s. I am overwhelmed at times with how easy it is for others to conceive. I am in awe that some people can just decide to get pregnant and viola! they are. I often look at the lives of others and think, wow, their lives are going according to plan, no disasters, no broken hearts, just joy. How is this fair? The truth is that it is not.

Life can't be fair. If life were truly fair, if we were given what we think we deserve, then we would also be given what we truly deserve as sinners. We would be punished severely for our sins, we would be separated from our Father, we would be living in lives that were unredeemed. We aren't given what we deserve, good or bad, and thus life is not fair.

I really struggle with this because I am arrogant and I look around and think "But look at what they're doing with their lives and yet they have a child!" or "I did exactly what I was supposed to and I don't have one!" I have lived my entire life trying to do as I was supposed to so I could be equally rewarded. I've tried so hard to be the perfect child, to be the perfect Christ follower, in attempts to protect myself from evil and guarantee a life with minimal pain and suffering. To my surprise, that doesn't work.

No matter how perfect I try to be, I live in a fallen world. No matter how much I try to do exactly what I'm told, I am truly imperfect. When I really think about it, I'm thankful to not get what I deserve because it would be so much worse than what I'm living now. But how do we shake that mindset? How do we abandon the idea that we are living our lives for God's glory only and NOT for our own good benefit? How do we shake the illusion that we need a fair life? How do we recognize that God is telling our individual story and it has nothing to do with the story next to us?

This is where I get stuck. This is where I don't have an answer, where I can't complete my thought. Perhaps the answer is in knowing that each one of our stories will bring God an individual and unique glory. Perhaps the answer is in knowing that we are sinful and fallen and we aren't getting what we truly deserve. Perhaps the answer is to stop gazing at others and focus more on Jesus.

But how do we abandon the belief that our good deeds should equal earthly blessings? Perhaps the answer is this: "But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Matthew 6:20-21 Earthly blessings won't matter much when we reach eternity, so perhaps we need to fix our eyes on the heavenly.

I don't know the answer, I just know that the two year old is right, "It's not fair!" But thank goodness it isn't! Because life is not fair we are spared from the awful fate of our sin; because life is not fair we get a second chance; because life is not fair we are all redeemed.

New Prayer

2010-06-03T15:35:00.002-07:00

"Do you want to learn the lessons only suffering can teach you? Would you say to God even now, 'If I have to go through this, then give me everything. Teach me everything you want to teach me through this. Don't let this incredible pain be wasted in my life'?" (The One Year Book of Hope by Nancy Guthrie).

I've been asking God for a while now to give me something or other. I've been begging God to give me joy again, to give me peace, to give me a child. God says that "all of the things [I] ask in prayer, believing, [I] will receive" (Matthew 21:22). So why hasn't He given me these things? One possibility is certainly unbelief. Pretty much on a daily basis I utter "I believe, help me in my unbelief" (Mark 9:24). I want to believe, I want to trust, I want to abandon my doubt, but I don't think that is something I can really do on my own, in my weakened human state. So one possibility for unanswered prayers could certainly be lack of belief. But I'm beginning to wonder if I am asking for the wrong thing.

Is it possible? Is it possible to be asking for the wrong thing? I think it really depends on where your heart is. After all the first part of Psalm 37:4 "Delight yourself in the Lord" is crucial to understanding why "He will give you the desire of your heart." If we truly delight in the Lord, if we dwell with Him, know Him, then our desires will echo His. I actually do not think that the prayers I have been praying, prayers for joy, peace, for a child, are not desires of God's heart, but maybe they aren't the desire of His heart right now. Maybe He has a greater desire in this time, maybe He has something for me that can only be learned from suffering.

Let me tell you, I hate that. It sucks. Our God is the God of the universe, if He has something to teach me aren't there a million ways He could accomplish that knowledge in me? Doesn't He have techniques and tactics that would accomplish the same purposes? I don't know for sure, but those questions presuppose that God orchestrated my suffering. Maybe my suffering is a product of a fallen world, maybe my suffering is a product of Satan's manipulation. Maybe, just maybe, God knew this was coming but in living in a free-will-world nothing could be done to prevent it. But now it's here, it is a reality, and regardless of why or how it came about, I have a choice.

I'm beginning to realize that I always have a choice, a choice in how to respond, how to act, what to say, what to do. I don't really like the choice; I often wish the choice was made for me. Because inevitably I have to choose the harder road, the more difficult path, the challenging interaction. Rarely when faced with a choice do I get to say "Ah, this will make life so much easier..." Instead I walk face first into difficulty, and now is no different.

I have to choose a different prayer right now. I have to choose instead of (or maybe in addition to) begging for deliverance from my suffering to beg for God to give me everything, everything that this experience of suffering has to offer. I need to ask for God to use these moments to mold me and shape me in ways that He maybe would not without the suffering. I have to ask for a softer heart to experience more of the pain that I might know more of the glory, rather than hardening my heart to the pain and cutting off all available growth. Essentially I must ask for more suffering, more pruning in the midst of my sorrow because otherwise these moments would be wasted.

So I have a new prayer: "'If I have to go through this, then give me everything. Teach me everything you want to teach me through this. Don't let this incredible pain be wasted in my life'". Amen.

Family

2010-05-22T22:22:00.005-07:00

In recent months I have discovered something about myself: I desperately desire to belong somewhere. Apparently there are three aspects of self esteem: sense of accomplishment, sense of belonging and sense of self-worth. When asked to pinpoint which one I struggle with most, I hands down was able to answer "sense of belonging".

I've never ever felt like I fit anywhere. When I was younger I was more mature and wanted to hang out with adults. When I went to college I became the married one and didn't really have a place with the single college-aged folks. When I'm with my family I'm the older, married cousin who has to sleep in another room so I don't get sick; I lack the coolness factor to connect me to the teenage cousins. In the world of my adult friends I'm either the married one to the singles or the childless one to the mothers. I'm the sober one to the drinkers and the prude one in the middle of crude jokes. Even within the church I feel out of place; I constantly feel like while speaking truth I am outcast from the believers who soften scripture or who fear offending others. I just feel like an awkward round peg trying to fit into a square hole.

I really think that this loneliness, this longing to belong, really plays into the grief I continue to experience over the loss of Hope and Joseph. In no way is this the bulk of the grief, but both with Hope and with Joseph there was a sense that I was finally going to belong to the group of mothers. I was going to be able to join in on the endless conversations about pregnancy, childbirth, nursing, child-rearing, kid stories. I was going to fit, and now I am back to being on the outside again. This loss creates a great ache in my heart.

I know, of course, that where I am to belong is in Christ; He gives me my sense of belonging. I have been adopted into His family. "Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and aliens, but fellow citizens with God's people and members of God's household, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone" (Ephesians 2:19-20). Or in the words of Sanctus Real "When I don't fit in, when I don't feel like I belong anywhere, when I don't measure up to much in this life, I'm a treasure in the arms of Christ." I belong in God's family, I am a treasure to God, even if it's just the two of us there. But I struggle, how do we feel a sense of belonging in a place that is not God's home? How do I feel like I belong in Him in a world that is surrounded by those who hates us?

And that may be part of the point. We won't ever truly belong in this world because Christ is in us and the world hates Christ (John 15:18-19). We won't ever belong or be fully accepted in this world, but perhaps that is designed to draw us closer to Him, and remind us that His adoption is enough.

I know that the only place I will truly belong is in Christ, but it occurred to me a couple of weeks ago that I feel a sense of belonging in a different family, one that I wouldn't ever expect. I belong to the family of sufferers.

When I first lost Hope, I became very mired in the idea that no one truly understood my pain. People could come close or people could pretend to come close, but really I felt my pain was unique and beyond the understanding of others. And to an extent that is absolutely true; there is no way I could ever specifically understand the pain of someone else and equally he or she could never specifically understand my pain. But the truth of the matter is that we live in a world that knows pain, that knows truly the consequences and aches of the fall. And so we become part of a family of those who have suffered.

It is in essence a family all our own, one not created by birth but one created by being delivered into suffering. This family is a strongly bonded family, especially when we have walked the journey of suffering together. As we watch others grieve, as we walk alongside them in their sorrow, as we hear their heartfelt cries we grow closer to their hearts. We are bound together in our suffering and I believe that there is very little that can break the bond that is created by pain. I have come to believe that this is why Christ came...

Christ came for a myriad of reasons, first and foremost to save each of us from the fate of hell. But the reason He could save us, the reason the cross works, is because Jesus lived the life of a man. Jesus suffered temptation at the hands of Satan, Jesus suffered the pain of loss of loved ones, Jesus suffered betrayal of friends, Jesus suffered shame and humiliation at the hands of His enemies, and Jesus suffered the death of millions of sins. Our Jesus knows suffering and that is why He could save us and that is why He can walk alongside us and that is why we can be adopted into His family.

In joining the family of sufferers I have joined Christ. To know suffering is to know why Jesus had to come. To know suffering is to know why eternal life is so precious. To know suffering is to know longing for a world to come. To know suffering is to know that I have a savior who knows me, truly and intimately. To know suffering is to know that my God understands me.

I have come to be thankful that I belong to a family of sufferers. It is much larger than the family of pregnant women and mothers that seem to swarm around me. I belong to Christ. I have been adopted by a Father who knows my anguish, and because He knows my anguish He weeps right along with me. I have a Father who is more deeply grieved for my sorrow than I am. And with Him as my Father I have joined a family that knows what the sorrows of this world are like.

It turns out I do belong somewhere; it is just not anywhere I would have ever expected.

Love them like Jesus...

2010-04-25T21:02:00.002-07:00

I've got a few other post ideas stored up for the day when I'm not grading until my eyes bleed, but until then I wanted to share the lyrics to this song I re-stumbled upon on my iPod today. I've been more than saddened and frustrated as people have tried to "fix" me in the last six months, but I've also really struggled to articulate what it is I want them to do. I know very much how difficult it is to watch someone you love suffer. I know that it would be so much easier if her pain were gone because then we wouldn't struggle so much to understand why or try to help. I know sadness is wearying. This song seems to best portray the struggle from the observer's point of view and the griever's. It is my prayer that you feel the same comfort I felt in hearing it as you read it. I know for many of you I have looked at you with the look described, with darkness clouding my view and desperate for hope. I also know that many of you have offered this very service that the song suggests--you have loved me like Jesus. Thank you for that, thank you for those moments. It is my prayer that I offer this same love to others as they grieve and suffer.

Love Them Like Jesus
By Casting Crowns

The love of her life is drifting away
They’re losing the fight for another day
The life that she’s known is falling apart
A fatherless home, a child’s broken heart

You’re holding her hand, you’re straining for words
You’re trying to make sense of it all
She's desperate for hope, darkness clouding her view
She's looking to you

Just love her like Jesus, carry her to Him
His yoke is easy, His burden is light
You don’t need the answers to all of life’s questions
Just know that He loves her and stay by her side
Love her like Jesus
Love her like Jesus

The gifts lie in wait, in a room painted blue
Little blessing from Heaven would be there soon
Hope fades in the night, blue skies turn to grey
As the little one slips away

You’re holding their hand, you’re straining for words
You’re trying to make sense of it all
They’re desperate for hope, darkness clouding their view
They’re looking to you

Just love them like Jesus, carry them to Him
His yoke is easy, His burden is light
You don’t need the answers to all of life’s questions
Just know that He loves them and stay by their side
Love them like Jesus

Lord of all creation holds our lives in His hands
The God of all the nations holds our lives in His hands
The Rock of our salvation holds our lives in His hands
He cares for them just as He cares for you

So love them like Jesus, love them like Jesus
You don’t need the answers to all of life’s questions
Just know that He loves them and stay by their side
Love them like Jesus
Love them like Jesus

Treasuring and Pondering

2010-04-07T17:00:00.003-07:00

"But Mary treasured up all these things pondering them in her heart." Luke 2:19

The word ponder in this verse means to "weigh heavy". I don't think that it is any coincidence that I read this verse in my devotional today, the day I was to become a mother. I have been treasuring up precious moments for the last 10 months, the last 5 months, the last week, taking notice of the little glimpses of my God. I have been treasuring up pieces of God's word (Psalm 119:11) and treasuring up pieces of my journey, relics of what was lost. And today I am left to ponder...

I have spent much of my week and much of today pondering what my life would have been like in these moments if Hope were still here. I "weighed heavy" the dreams lost of: putting the final touches on the baby room, packing a bag for the hospital, sleeping uncomfortably under the weight of my huge belly, holding my precious Hope in my arms, breastfeeding her for the first time, holding her close to my heart as I sang her first lullaby. These lost dreams have weighed heavy on me; they have caused my body to ache and my heart to break; they have caused tears and unbearable sobs. There is no lightness to the path I've walked these last few days. I have certainly had no loss at pondering these things...

I have spent much time pondering my dreams, pondering what it is I hope for in this life and what I hope to achieve. I have weighed this heavy as well as I even struggle to articulate what my hopes are--so many of my dreams are centered around being a mom, having a family, caring for others. Without these ambitions I begin to feel lost. And so I ponder who I am...

I weigh heavy who I am called to be right now if not a mom. A teacher, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend. I don't feel particularly successful at any of these roles right now. But the biggest identity that weighs heavy on my heart, the me I feel most centered around is daughter of God.

Today specifically as I prayed, God weighed heavy on my heart my place in His arms, on His lap, in His kingdom. He is just, He is faithful, He is compassionate, and He is mine. Of all of my failures and brokenness, I can still come sit at His feet and praise Him. He is my portion, and if nothing else I am His prize.

Which leads me to my greatest pondering of this last week. My counselor said last Saturday "I want you to recognize that life would not be any better right now if Hope were coming this week." I initially told him he was wrong. He said that if Hope coming was God's plan, it would have been good, but God purposed her not to arrive this week and since it is part of His plan, this is also good. I still said he was wrong, and yet his words have nagged at me all week. It certainly feels like life would be better if Hope were coming to join us today--the gift of my little one in my arms seems like the best that life has to offer. But I've been pondering this earthly wisdom of mine ever since.

This idea of "better" has been weighing heavy on my heart. What do I consider better or best for my life? I certainly would have chosen to have Hope join our family this week, no doubt in my mind. But God chose differently. I most definitely would not have selected to walk the road I have been walking the last 5 months and yet God called me to this road.

I pondered these things all week and then my devotional, Hope for Everyday, challenged the very core of my pondering this afternoon: "Are you willing to admit that your understanding is limited and say to God even now, 'You are right'? Will you trust that God will always do what is right with you and your life and those you love?" (Guthrie). I think I have to trust that this road is right, that there is no other road I am to be on. I think I have to trust that this road is no better than the road that would have lead Hope to my arms today. But I think the key word is trust, believing that this is an equally good road.

I think I can ponder all I want and I do think the pondering can lead me to trust God's orchestration in my life. But I am also going to continue to do what Mary first did, I am going to "treasure". I think treasuring involves living and grieving in these moments. I think treasuring involves missing my daughter and what might have been this week. I think treasuring means sitting in my rocking chair crying over my empty arms tonight. Because it is in the treasuring, in the emotional journey, that I can then ponder and trust. Very little trust is required if the road is easy and the charge light. How can we "weigh heavy" those things that don't weigh heavily? We absolutely still can, but I don't think we treasure or ponder or trust in the same way.

So today I will treasure both what is lost and what is found. Today as I miss my little girl so much I can't breathe I will trust in the God who is guiding my path. And I will ponder the "better" path on this day, April 7th, 2010, a day full of nothing I could have planned.

Anger and Thanks

2010-03-27T21:26:00.002-07:00

I promised an honest heart, so here it is, once again...

It was bound to happen. I've experienced a gamut of emotions through these last 6 months, sadness, loneliness, denial, acceptance, but not until these past few days, anger. But I have arrived at the anger station and today especially I have found myself having it out with God. I think the bulk of my anger stemmed from watching several friends of mine in the last week have babies or announce pregnancies. I am truly happy for each one of them, but so incredibly grieved for myself at the same time, and I have come to the place where I couldn't help but ask "Why me? Why is this so difficult for me?" I asked the dreaded why, the word I have so carefully been guarded from in the last 6 months. Yet here it was, the why, and the answers are of course absent. There isn't a clear why, at least not one I can define, so what do I do with this question? What do I do with this observation of the blessings that others seems to be so richly receiving? What do I do when I continue to live without this blessing? My heart's response is to get angry.

It's funny because I've preached often about how okay it is to be angry with God, how He can take it, and how when you enter into that argument with Him you open yourself up to the opportunity to be changed, to be enlightened to His purposes, and yet, I found myself ashamed of my anger; I thought it wasn't my place to be angry with God, He obviously had a purpose. So I tried to cover my anger, to conceal it, which is just pure foolishness. God of course can see my heart and hear my thoughts; He knew I was angry, and He was waiting patiently for me to tell Him so we could engage in a conversation about my frustrations. This morning in the car I finally owned up to my anger; I was honest with myself and God about my disappointments and heartache and anger. And it is no surprise that He heard me out, He let me speak my peace, but then of course He slammed me with truth. (This post will just serve as a reminder that when you get into an argument with God, you should prepare to lose, knowing that it will eventually lead to you winning, but in the moment you will feel like you've lost.)

It turns out that the solution to my anger is gratitude, an ability to be grateful for what He has given me, the blessings He has bestowed on me. This truth hurt because it revealed my heart, my unwillingness to be grateful. I've grown comfortable in my "woe is me" mentality, and believe me there is plenty to bemoan, but my groanings have left little room for my praise. I'm reminded of the song "Held" in which "this hand is bitterness, we want to taste it, let the hatred numb our sorrows." The bitterness I was so careful to avoid when losing Hope has crept its way into my heart in these last weeks. I allowed my sadness to turn to bitterness, hatred for my situation and the pain it brought with it. No wonder I found myself angry.

I think in large part my anger and bitterness can be attributed to my loss of hope in these last weeks. When the doctor told us to wait, I felt as if she told us there would be no hope for months on end. Without hope, without the anticipation of what could be, there is only sadness and bitterness. But the truth this, there is hope, it is just not the kind I'm looking for or necessarily wanting in my earthly self. There is hope that God will work His purposes, there is hope that God has a greater plan in mind, there is hope that God will bless me in the midst, there is hope of salvation that will reunite me with my babies someday. There is hope, it is just far less tangible than a child.

When we lost Hope, I asked people to come and visit me so that I would be reminded of the blessings I do have as opposed to focusing on the blessing I lost. I have failed to have that mindset in these past weeks; I have failed to focus on my blessings and have grown bitter and angry instead. So I do believe that it is time to be grateful, to show gratitude, to focus on my blessings.

I was reading the Psalms tonight and stumbled on Psalm 109. It begins with David's frustrated cry to God "O God of my praise, Do not be silent!" He goes on to frustratedly list the trials he is facing and the ways in which he is oppressed. But then he ends the Psalm with this "With my mouth I will give thanks abundantly to the Lord; and in the midst of many I will praise Him. For He stands at the right hand of the needy, to save him from those who judge his soul" (Psalm 109:30-31). David's response to his anger and frustration with the Lord is to give thanks, and as I am trying to follow his authentic example I hope to do the same.

I will offer praise for my blessings, I will seek to identify my blessings, my starfish, in my days. And yet I know that there is still a large struggle ahead of me. Because of where I am in my life I will continue to be inundated with the blessings of others, specifically in the area of children. It is so difficult for us as fallible humans to avoid comparison, to not hold what we have up to the mirror of what others have. I find it ironic that I am not usually one to do this with material goods, but I cannot step away from it in this realm. All I can do is pray that God helps me endure the absence of this blessing in my life, that He comforts me as my heart aches with its absence, that He protects my heart from growing bitter out of this anguish. And I have to pray because quite honestly I'm not sure that enduring this is something I can humanly do; I believe it must be something Someone greater than me must accomplish. But I can hope that if I seek to have a grateful attitude, God will not fail to help me along in this area of weakness.

So feel free to ask me how I'm blessed each day, and don't be afraid to make me stand there until I can tell you! Because I am blessed and I need to make a point to remember that truth, lest I find myself bitter and angry again. Thus "With my mouth I will give thanks abundantly to the Lord"!

Dwelling

2010-03-21T20:11:00.002-07:00

One thing I have asked from the LORD, that I shall seek:
That I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life,
To behold the beauty of the LORD
And to meditate in His temple.
For in the day of trouble He will conceal me in His tabernacle;
In the secret place of His tent He will hide me;
He will lift me up on a rock.
And now my head will be lifted up above my enemies around me,
And I will offer in His tent sacrifices with shouts of joy;
I will sing, yes, I will sing praises to the LORD.
Psalm 27:4-6

I was standing in church tonight renewing my commitment to walk with the Lord, standing with my fellow believers vowing to God that I am willing to do what He asks of me, willing to let go of myself and hang on to His calling. As I spoke aloud my allegiance to my God, He brought a verse to my heart, Psalm 27:4, specifically the words "that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life." I have loved this verse for a very long time; the idea of sanctuary it conjures for me is majestic and comforting. But tonight new words jumped out of this verse into my heart--all the days of my life. Not just the good days, not just the awful days, all of my days. I get to dwell with God all of my days--the days when I am angry with Him, the days I am disappointed in this seemingly unclear plan, the days where my heart aches so much I cannot breathe. All of my days I am invited to dwell, to dwell with Him.

After this revelation I searched back through scripture for the verse and found the context. Not only do I get to dwell with Him, He will hide me in His most secret place, especially in those days of trouble. God does not look at me, broken, weary, frustrated, sad me and ask me to leave, instead in those moments He invites me deeper, further into dwelling with Him. He escorts me past the palace guards, past the throngs of people begging for moments of His time, into His most secret, His most intimate of places and just allows me to be, allows me to hide from the world that is so torturing me. I am invited to dwell, just to be, with Him, even and especially in my most broken of moments. It is no wonder that in the Lord's house we are able to behold His beauty--how can it be anything but beautiful to have someone love you and invite you deeper into His world in your most bedraggled of states?

So this is one thing that I will ask and seek: that I may dwell, dwell with Him, in His most secret of places, where He invites me to go. And then "surely goodness and lovingkindness shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever" (Psalm 23:6).

Intentional Living

2010-03-20T22:28:00.003-07:00

This sucks. It is total crap. There are very few things about our situation that I don't hate. But this is my bummer of a life, I've only been given one. These days, these moments are mine and once they are gone they cannot be recaptured. So no matter how awful my circumstances may be at the moment, no matter how steeped in anguish these next few months might be, I want to live my life.

I do not want to look back and see these few months wasted in waiting for something that I cannot have at the moment. I do not want to trudge through these days wishing them away. These are my days, my months, or rather God's days and God's months, and I want them to have meaning, to have purpose. After all Jesus came that I may have life and have it abundantly (John 10:10).

So how do I find this abundant life amidst what feels like a hole of sorrow? One thought I have is that "whoever loses his life for My sake will find it" (Matthew 16:25). I should let go of what I've been holding on to in search of something greater. I don't know exactly what this something greater is. I do not know what specifically can fill my days with purpose. I KNOW for certain that getting up daily and following the Lord is my purpose and He is what motivates this desire of mine to live intentionally.

But what can I DO with my days to live intentionally? How can I make these months memorable for something other than the painful waiting that is upon me? How can I live out the greatest commandments: "'And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.' The second is this, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself' There is no other commandment greater than these" (Mark 12:30-31)?

What ideas do you have? I'd love to hear them!

I know intentional living should stretch far beyond these three months, every day of our lives should be intentional, purposeful. So I am looking at this as the beginning of a journey to purposeful living, the first planks in a bridge to an intentional walk with Jesus. These next months are about my pruning, about God working, about opportunity for God to work in my heart. I do not want to be closed off to His purposes but rather open to His work, moldable and teachable. Thus I want to seek to live with purpose, with intention.

How can I practically live with purpose? I look forward to your thoughts on intentional living.

An Honest Heart

2010-03-19T15:12:00.002-07:00

How long, O LORD? Will You forget me forever?
How long will You hide Your face from me?

How long shall I take counsel in my soul,
Having sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long will my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and answer me, O LORD my God;
Enlighten my eyes, or I will sleep the sleep of death,

And my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
And my adversaries will rejoice when I am shaken.

But I have trusted in Your lovingkindness;
My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation.

I will sing to the LORD,
Because He has dealt bountifully with me.
Psalm 13: 1-6

One of the things I love about David is his honest heart. There is no sugar coating his emotions, there is no desire on his part to hide his struggles with God. But perhaps the most amazing thing about David is that he always arrives back at truth. This post is dedicated to David because I will bear my honest heart, yet I will remember God's words to me.

This Psalm above has been resonating in my heart the last 24 hours. How long O Lord? Yesterday the doctor suggested that we cease trying to conceive for a while until my body heals appropriately. The time frame she gave us, only a matter of months, feels like an eternity. My heart is screaming out that I have waited on the Lord long enough. Haven't Herb and I waited plenty? We were married almost seven years ago and we patiently waited for me to finish college, for Herb to finish law school, for us to find a house, for Herb to find a job. We've waited, we've waited plenty, and yet now we are being asked to wait some more. And so I cry out "How long O Lord" must we wait for your purposes to be accomplished? "How long O Lord" must we suffer for your glory? "How long O Lord" must we watch you fulfill your promises for others while we wait for you to fulfill your promises to us? How long?

I am aching so deeply that I am even struggling for words. I feel roadblocks where I feel like God should be throwing up green lights. I can barely breathe through the anguish of another lost piece of my hope. I sob as I imagine more time passing without children in our home. I ache as I think about how many months even after we try again it might take to conceive, and my stomach turns knowing that God could bring even more miscarriages in our future. I am saddened that this process, the one that is supposed to be so beautiful and breathtaking, has become so tortured and anguished. There are so many unknowns, so much out of my control.

And yet I am reminded of my God...my God who provided Abraham with a son who was to bring forth a great nation, even when it appeared Abraham could have no children at all. God promised it and so Abraham believed. "In hope against hope he believed, in order that he might become a father of many nations, according to that which had been spoken, 'So shall your descendants be.' And yet without becoming weak in faith he contemplated his own body, now as good as dead since he was about a hundred years old, and the deadness of Sarah's womb; yet with respect to the promise of God, he did not waver in unbelief, but grew strong in faith, giving glory to God, and being fully assured that what He had promised, He was able also to perform" (Romans 4:18-21). I can imagine the incredulity that Abraham experienced--I know first hand the doubt that God will bring you a child. I can see that as the years passed Abraham questioned "How long O Lord" before You provide a child? But God did provide for Abraham as He had promised because Abraham did not move from his belief; he instead gave glory to God and walked assuredly in God's promise.

I am also reminded of my God...my God who in the last moments before Abraham was to take Isaac's life, the very life God had promised him, spared Abraham's son and provided a different sacrifice. I can imagine that as Abraham was walking with Isaac to the place of sacrifice he was anguished at what the Lord was doing. I can imagine that He internally battled the whole march there asking "How long O Lord" must he suffer at the hands of obedience. But in those last moments, God did provide. "And Abraham called the name of that place The Lord Will Provide, as it is said to this day, 'In the mount of the Lord it will be provided'" (Genesis 22:14).

I have begun to recognize that God doesn't get much glory in the ease of our lives. It is not in the moments of peace and tranquility that people are in greatest awe of the way God works. It is in the sorrow, in the anguish. It is in the moments when Mary and Martha are questioning why Jesus did not come sooner to spare Lazurus that we see the heart of Jesus as He wept. It is also in those moments that follow, in the moments that seemed like they were too late, that Jesus resurrected Lazurus and brought so much glory and renown to His name.

Jesus doesn't work on our time frame, ever. There may be times that He appears to, but it really is about His glory. I'm not really sure what His time frame is for us to conceive, to actually carry a child to full term, and then miraculously to welcome that child into our lives. I know that I am not particularly fond of what seems to be His time frame right now and that I will continue to ask "How long O Lord". But I am blessed enough to know that my God does have a time frame and He will provide, even if at the last moment or when it seems like He is too late.

In the meantime, I will still despair over what seems to be lost, over what seems to be an unjust time frame, because I think that is real and honest. David was unafraid to ask God "How long O Lord?" and I will not fear that either. Yet I will do so knowing that I live in the Hope of a God who provides, a God who will show Himself in His perfect timing.

Peace that surpasses understanding

2010-03-17T10:00:00.003-07:00

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Phillipians 4:6-7

These last few days I've been at peace, not striving, not anxious, just at peace. The doubts I have had over the last few months about not ever being a mom have been quelled. I have been saying to others that I'm not sure if it is a peace that God will eventually grant me the gift of being a mom or if it is a peace that God is going to do whatever He sees fit for my life, it is just an undefined peace. My friend Lori said that maybe I've just been granted a "peace that surpasses all understanding." God has granted me peace, peace that I can't explain or comprehend, peace that doesn't make sense despite my circumstances. This peace seems fitting because I know many have been covering me with prayers for that exact thing--they have laid their requests before God on my behalf. And I have found myself in the middle of answered prayers, in the center of unexplainable peace. I love to see how prayer and scripture move in my life, and I am grateful for the ways God has allowed them to move in my life. I am thankful for the peace which surpasses understanding because without it I'm not sure how I would get through each of these days.

Something's Changed

2010-03-15T22:21:00.002-07:00

I had a few hours today to just be, by myself, outside, just me and God. I brought my devotional and my Bible and sat outside with my Creator. I read scripture and prayed and praised. This last word is an indication of how my heart has been changed.

There are marked differences between losing Joseph and losing Hope. There were different expectations, different lengths of time, different emotions altogether. But the most evident difference is in my heart; I am not the same woman I was 5 months ago.

As I sat with Jesus today, talking, sharing my heart, I had a new peace, an ability to be thankful. I could rest in His purposes, I could trust in His goodness in a far deeper and richer way than I was able to before. I did not need to question why, instead I just knew there was a reason and that God was working on it and through it and in me. I found myself not having to try to be thankful, but just being thankful--thankful for my Father who loves me, my Holy Spirit who comforts me, and the Son who walks alongside me.

Then I went to my counseling appointment and my counselor reminded me of a quote we talked about almost a year ago by Eugene Peterson:

"The assumption of spirituality is that always God is doing something before I know it. So the task is not to get God to do something I think needs to be done, but to become aware of what God is doing so that I can respond to it and participate and take delight in it."

My counselor asked me to focus on that last portion, taking delight in what God is doing. How do we take delight in such horrible occurrences? How do we delight in what God is doing when it causes so much pain?

So I asked, can we feel both sorrow for our circumstances and yet delight in what God will do in and through them? I think, and my counselor thinks, yes, we can. We can experience great sorrow as we grieve and yet find joy in the knowledge that God is doing something, something good, always. Even in the bad, God is working good, and we get to participate in it and take delight in it. And so somehow tonight, I have some joy, amidst my tears and my brokenness, I have some joy.

I truly believe God has a purpose for Hope's life, for Joseph's life; He is creating something beautiful. And do you know how I know? Do you know how I can believe in God's purpose and beauty? Because something has changed in my heart, I am not the same; there is new beauty in my heart as a result of Hope and of Joseph. His purpose for my heart was partially fulfilled as a result of these losses. This is how I can find peace, find joy, amidst my unspeakable sorrow. This is how I am changed.

Baby Number 2

2010-03-14T21:47:00.002-07:00

Herb and I lost Baby number 2 yesterday morning. Just one week ago, last Saturday, I took a pregnancy test and found out we were pregnant! I had early symptoms, but we weren't sure until last Saturday. Of course we were excited, and scared; Herb prayed over me and the baby and this time there were bittersweet tears as we remembered Hope and looked forward to this new baby. I was so hesitant to believe that this baby was coming, that he would be here. He was to be due on November 11th, just one day after Hope's birthday and I couldn't help marvel at God's timing. It, of course, did not escape His notice that this baby was due so near my first. I believed so clearly that God had a purpose for this baby. My first prayers over him were so different than my first prayers over Hope. These prayers were for this baby to be for God's glory; I recognized so clearly that God was in control of this baby and this pregnancy. That knowledge allowed me to begin to rest in God's plan.

We headed to Disneyland on Thursday, and Friday I was so happy, I was so at peace. I was able to enjoy those rides I could ride and meander through shops as Herb, Tedd and Lori rode the rides I couldn't. I was able again to dream of bringing our child there, this child there; I was able to see pregnant women and imagine that I might get to have that experience. I smiled and laughed during the fireworks. I ate yummy food to appease my hungry baby. I enjoyed wearing my "I'm Celebrating" button, and answering that we were expecting when Cast Members asked what we were celebrating. I was so excited, so at peace.

I awoke Saturday morning early to pee, again, and eat, and as I was lying there in bed I kept thinking how amazing it was that my perspective had so changed. The symptoms that once nagged me, I was now thankful for; I was thankful for them because they meant the baby was growing inside me. Again I prayed for the amazing purpose this baby would serve.

A few hours later I got up to use the restroom and shower for our next day at Disneyland, and I saw that I had started spotting. I called Herb in and he prayed, he told God that he wasn't sure our hearts could handle another miscarriage. He asked for healing. I called the doctor, but unfortunately my doctor wasn't on call. So I spoke to the on-call doctor and he told me it could be a number of things, but that we wouldn't be able to do any tests until Monday. He said as long as there wasn't cramping or tissue loss, things were fine, just take it easy and rest.

Shortly after that the cramping began and about an hour later I passed the baby. It was gruesome and horrible, and all I could do was sob. Losing this child was horrifying, horrifying in a different way than losing Hope was. There's nothing official about sitting in a hotel room having a miscarriage; there are no trappings of a hospital to validate your loss; there are no nurses to talk you through what is happening; there's just the knowledge that your world is crashing all around you. My loss of hope was familiar and my grief also well-known. In some ways I knew what gamut of emotions to expect. But this loss was also less public; very few people knew I was pregnant. I was grieving but no one else would know why. That was more horrible, the feeling that I had to try and hide my sadness.

I spent the day curled up in pain and sorrow on a hotel bed. Herb is at such a loss for words as he watches me suffer again and suffers so deeply himself. There just aren't any words left.

I decided that this baby needed a name; he was a real and valuable life to me and I needed to be able to recognize him as such. Even at only 5 and half weeks he had become part of our lives, part of our dreams. I have referred to him as a boy because I thought he was, unlike Hope we'll never know for sure. But I had spent most of the week thinking about Joseph, the way in which he believed and trusted God's purposes even when it looked as if nothing good could come of his situation, the way he never became bitter but with each step accepted God's desires for him. I was thinking so much about Joseph, and I love the name, so this baby, our second child, is Joseph. He will continue to represent our softened hearts towards God's purposes for our lives.

This morning I was just so overwhelmed with grief and it hit me: I am now grieving the loss of two children at the same time. How do I do this? How can I possibly withstand this much sadness all at once? What foolishness led me to believe that I could handle even the possibility of another loss? And I know, I know I trusted God with the timing of another pregnancy. I know that His timing, and this baby are a part of his plan, but I'm just not sure how to stand through the pain of this plan. I'm grieving Hope, I'm grieving Joseph and my heart is shattered into a million pieces.

I also know this: my God is good, I am under His loving protection, I asked God to use Joseph's life for His purposes, God has promised me many great things, God keeps His promises. As I ache, I do know these things, I know them with my head, now someone just needs to remind my heart.

I am asking for prayer, prayer as we grieve again. Prayer as we miss, and long and hope and dream. Prayer for continued and renewed hope. Prayer for peace in God's purposes. Prayer for God to come and hold Herb's heart and hold my heart. Prayer that we would continue to trust in God's goodness. Please just cover us, we need it.

This post is in memory of my little one Joseph Garcia.

Should Have

2010-03-11T11:08:00.002-07:00

These past months I have found myself thinking "This week I should have..." Thoughts of the baby showers I "should have" had, or the baby's room I "should have" set up, or the belly I "should have" been sporting flood my mind on a regular basis. But I have been thinking about the phrase "should have"; it implies what was supposed to be. In other words, the words "should have" reflect a plan gone awry. In many ways, they are fitting. Our dreams and plans for Hope were taken away. What was "supposed to be" no longer is. I have been working diligently to replace my "should haves" to "would haves" because I am beginning to recognize that having Hope come April 7th was not what was "supposed to be."

This is hard to say and difficult to swallow, especially if you struggle to believe in God's plans. It is hard to admit that having Hope in our daily lives is not what God intended for us. It is hard to understand that having Hope here on earth was not God's greater purpose for her existence. But the truth is that Hope is exactly where she is "supposed to be". She shouldn't be coming to greet us on April 7th because she was meant to greet her Heavenly Father on November 10th. There is no "should have" for her life or for ours because we are living exactly in the middle of God's purposes for us.

While it is true that this month we "would have" been preparing for little Hope to arrive, we instead are walking with a deeper faith than we once had 4 months ago. Though we "would have" been waiting with great anticipation to meet our precious girl and see her smiling face, we now wait with greater anticipation of the day we arrive in Heaven and get to embrace her for the first time. And even though we "would have" loved having her physically near, we are overjoyed by the precious presence she has left behind in her wake, the unspeakable impact we see in her short little life.

I will still have those "should have" thoughts, they will creep in ever so slowly as a walk through every difficult day of this next month. But instead of being grieved over what "should have" been, I will smile with sweet sorrow over what is and what will be. I, of course, would love to have her here with me, but I know that she is exactly where she "should" be, in the embrace of her loving Heavenly Father.

"I have to believe..."

2010-02-11T13:30:00.003-07:00

I've always loved the Avalon song "Dreams I Dream for You". There are so many amazing words of truth in the verses, but the chorus has continued to resonate in my heart for years.

The dreams I dream for you
Are deeper than the ones you're clinging to
More precious than the finest things you knew
Truer than the treasures you pursue
Let your old dreams die like stars that fade from view
And take the cup I offer and drink deeply of
The dreams I dream for you

As I've listened to the words in the past I have tried to recognize that the plans I have for my life are not always as beautiful as those that God has. I have tried to remember that He has a richness that He desires for my life that is not always the treasure I seek. But I do not think I have ever really understood these words. I do not believe that my depth of faith has ever truly run this deep.

Since we lost Hope three months ago, my heart has been grieved with the possibility that God may not have called me to be a mom, to have the experience of carrying a child to full term and raise him or her. The sadness of that truth resonates deep within me. And each time I expressed my sadness, confessed my doubt about my calling to be a mom, I have been reassured with "I have to believe that being a mom is what God wants for you." Many people who love me dearly have told me that they believe God wants me to be a mom. Herb has said he has to believe that God wants us to be parents. But what is it about me that sets me apart from other women who are unable to conceive and carry to full term? I in no way believe that I am more capable or able than others to be a good mom.

For a while now I have been repeating the phrase that I heard so often "I have to believe..." and I began to take it as a demonstration of hope in my life, that I believed that God would make me a mom. But in that version of hope, I struggle for control. I grieve over the many things my body does or the aspects of life circumstances that are out of control and "prevent" me from hoping. So I've been beginning to wonder if I have the wrong kind of hope, if I have been finishing the "I have to believe" phrase with the wrong words.

What if instead of saying, "I have to believe I will be a mom. I have to believe that God wants us to have children," I am supposed to be saying, "I have to believe that the life God has in store for me is good. I have to believe that the dreams He dreams for me are precious and beautiful"? The truth in this second statement reflects a far greater Hope; it reflects a Hope beyond my circumstances. It reflects a Hope that echoes the character of God rather than the characters in my life. But this breed of Hope, this second "I believe" statement, is so much harder and creates a much deeper ache in my heart.

To say the second "I believe" statement requires me to die to my own dreams. It requires me to let go of the visions I have for my life and redefine my visions to align with God's. It goes beyond saying "Bring me anything that brings You glory". It says "The things that You bring me will bring You glory, AND they will be exactly what I need." I think the second "I believe" statement requires a large magnitude of faith; it requires a faith that moves the mountain of my will out of my line of sight. This faith requires complete absence of control and thus complete faith in the things God will bring. And this faith requires that in the midst of the hard things, the excruciating things He brings us, we will be able to say "I know that you work things together for my good."

It is so hard for me to say that I am willing to not be a mom if God has something better in store for me. I believe that being a mom is one of the richest experiences life can offer. But what if that is my dream, my belief? What if God has far richer experiences to offer me, experiences I can't even imagine? Don't I trust Him enough to believe that He wants to give me abundant life? Don't I trust Him enough to define what abundant life looks like without having to add my own addendum?

But the question is can I relinquish my dreams? And how do I do that without taking away the beauty of Hope that comes with the anticipation and joy of trying to conceive and have a child? How do I accept God's dreams fully, in all of their richness, when I don't know what they are? Recently I have been praying that God would show me the good He has in store for me, but more than just show me, enable me to believe those truths. I have been praying that He would align the desires of my heart with the desires of His. If He doesn't want me to be a mom, even just at this point in time, what does He have for me? I know we don't always get to know His plan, after all we "see [y]our yesterdays", He "see[s] tomorrows". But I think it's worth asking, worth asking for glimpses of His good for my life. And I think in the asking we are able to know Him more intimately, more deeply--truly an aspect of the good He has in store.

I still have unanswered pieces of this puzzle. I still lack the wisdom to know what this "I believe" statement looks like when lived out. But I do think that a big aspect of this "I believe" statement is just believing, just believing in the good God has for me regardless of my circumstances, believing in the fullness of life despite hardship. I say "just believing" but I know there is nothing simple about this kind of belief. I must still grieve the death of my dreams, but look forward, with great Hope, to the dreams God has for me. For "he who has lost his life for My sake will find it." God has abundant life for me to discover, it will just come at the cost of my ideas of what abundant life looks like.

Bring You Glory

2010-01-24T11:16:00.002-07:00

I know this is an older song, but I heard it on the radio Friday night and am just touched by the lyrics. My prayer is that my heart would truly echo these lyrics, that I can truly say "Bring me anything that brings You glory" without adding an addendum like "but if you could bring me this that would be better" or "if you could spare me that I'd appreciate it". I want my heart to say "Jesus, I'll take whatever You give me that You might be glorified." (Talk about needing the help of the Holy Spirit for this ambition! But that's why God gave us the Holy Spirit, to be our Helper, and Help I will need!)

Bring the Rain
by Mercy Me

I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise You with all that I've gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You

Maybe since my life was changed
Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer through these times

So I pray

Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain

I am Yours regardless of
The dark clouds that may loom above
Because You are much greater than my pain
You who made a way for me
By suffering Your destiny
So tell me what's a little rain

So I pray

Holy, holy, holy
Holy, holy, holy
Is the Lord God Almighty
Is the Lord God Almighty

In the garden

2010-01-17T20:52:00.003-07:00

"Jesus took Peter and Zebedee's two sons, James and John, and he began to be filled with anguish and deep distress. He told them, 'My soul is crushed with grief to the point of death. Stay here and watch with me.'" Matthew 26:37-38

I've been thinking often about the grief and suffering of Jesus. Part of why He is so capable of walking along beside those who are crushed and brokenhearted is because of His intimacy with those emotions throughout His life. I am grateful to know that although Jesus knew of Lazarus' resurrection, he still wept at the news of his passing. I am comforted to know that Jesus stood in the garden, crying out to the Father, asking to be relieved of walking His journey of suffering. Jesus knows, intimately, the anguish of this world, and in a far greater capacity than I will ever know.

I am particularly drawn to the passage about the Garden of Gethsemane. It holds so many interesting aspects of grieving in a few brief words. For example, Jesus knew God had a plan for His suffering, specifically He KNEW God's plan for His suffering, and yet He still begged for another way. This shows me that even knowing and understanding the plan does not take away from the anguish that we must walk through, that understanding why, no matter how much we want that understanding, doesn't actually ease the pain.

Jesus also openly wrestled with God's plan; He was unafraid to admit His fear and His desire to run from pain. This reveals to me just how human Jesus was in these moments; He, like the rest of us, instinctively wanted to flee from pain. But unlike the rest of us, Jesus was able to take the steps to follow His Father into the raging sea of pain, seeking His Father's ultimate glory. Jesus walked INTO pain, instead of running from it. I want to be like Jesus, willing to walk into pain for God's glory. I want to draw near to the brokenhearted, be unafraid to walk the journey that will bring God the greatest glory. But I also believe that this may be one of the hardest ways for us to be like Jesus; it is so ingrained in our nature to run from pain. I know I had been living in anxiety because I was afraid of what pain I might have to walk through, wondering what circumstances, within my control or outside of it, might inflict great injury to my soul. And yet, here I am walking through them, living through pain, and for God's glory. Am I less anxious, less afraid of pain? Yes, but I still find myself trying to protect, struggling to place a shield around my heart. I think it will be a daily, a momentary relinquishing of my comfort, of my pain-free existence, to God's capable hands for His ultimate glory. For Jesus it was...

In the garden, Jesus went back multiple times before the Lord, persistent in His prayer for God to change His circumstances. Jesus had to let go of His will and take up His Father's over and over again. It took Him three times to finally accept what His Father wanted, to realize that God was not going to change His circumstances, but was instead going to provide Him with the grace and strength to walk through them. God didn't answer Jesus' request to be free of pain because He instead was going to grant the greater desire of Jesus' heart, to draw the people to His Father. God did give Jesus the true desire of His heart, but it came at a cost of His more surface desire--a pain-free existence.

The last piece about the garden that I've been pondering are the verses I listed above, about Peter, James and John. Jesus brought His closest friends with Him to the garden so that He might not grieve alone. Jesus, the Son of God, needed the love and support of friends, but they fell asleep. To be quite honest, in the past, this part of the story always made me so angry. How could they not be there when Jesus needed them? But what I've come to realize is that it was not a lack of desire; they wanted to support Jesus. They just grew weary. It can be exhausting to walk alongside the grieving. It can be exhausting to try and conjure the right words to say, or to avoid saying the wrong words. It can be exhausting to see such sadness in someone who was once filled with such joy. It can be wearying to have no real answers, no real solutions, but to just sit there and be in the midst of such grief. The disciples grew weary, as do we all. I have experienced a myriad of emotions as I've watched people drop away from me through the loss of Hope. I have been angry that people didn't remember, disappointed that they didn't show up, lonely in my tears, but I'm trying to embrace a new emotion, acceptance. Acceptance that my grief is wearying. Acceptance that people cannot meet all of my needs. Only God can, and that is what the garden was really all about.

Jesus came to His Father seeking answers, seeking comfort, and seeking communion. Jesus went to the garden knowing His disciples would fade, knowing God would not. Jesus came to the Father and asked the Father to meet all of His needs, which is what I need to do. Man will always fall short of what God was meant to do. I am never alone when my Father, the Great Comforter, is with me. He will meet me in the garden and He will walk with me as I leave. He will hear my cries, wipe away my tears, and not leave me once in the midst. He will not fall asleep or tire of my grief. He should be my source of strength, comfort and peace.

Because of all of these things I hope to walk regularly into the garden, where my Father waits to draw near to my broken heart.

Torn

2009-12-26T16:41:00.002-07:00

I've been ruminating on this post for a while, but now is the first chance I've had to actually write it. Not to mention that God just reaffirmed the idea in my mind more today, prompting me to put thought to "paper". I am thankful for those good conversations with friends that remind me that one, I'm not totally crazy, and two, God is truly working on something. So here's my hopefully not totally crazy, God is truly working thought process.

Lately the best way I've been able to describe my emotions is torn. I feel torn between two emotions, two states of mind, two desires. In general it makes me feel slightly insane because the two conflicting emotions are so drastically at odds. They don't work together, they don't quite make sense, but they are both so very real. Here are some of my dueling realities:

I feel so incredibly torn between sorrow and peace. My heart is so tremendously broken over the loss of Hope; those moments of sadness are so intense and so hard to cope with. My heart aches and I wonder how my life will ever be the same again. But then I look at God and I experience peace, peace in knowing He's at work, peace in seeing His hand time and again, peace in trusting that His glory will win out. I don't truly understand how these emotions can co-exist, how I can feel anguished and broken, yet rest in knowing God is at work. How can I be striving so desperately in my heart to soothe the ache and still have a quiet in my soul knowing that God is with me?

I feel torn between emptiness and fulfillment. I can't explain how many times a day my heart feels hollow, empty. It's not just my heart either; I look at my stomach and I experience fully my empty womb. What was once full of life is now devoid of it. And yet I spend an afternoon with my husband, holding his hand, hearing his wise words, and my heart is brimming with love. I watch my family laugh and cry together and realize how satiated I am with affection and warmth. But the strange thing is that I can often feel both, simultaneously. My empty heart can throb but my eyes can also brim at the intimacy I share with others. How can I be full yet empty? How can I be filled up and still ache for more?

I also feel intensely torn between my own sorrow and others' joy. I wish I could explain the overwhelming despair I feel when I see another pregnant woman or watch other moms with their children. The deep grief I experience in realizing my lost opportunity, my lost moments, my lost journey is raw and unfettered. And I hate that feeling. I hate that I have a hard time even looking at a pregnant friend or family member. I hate that I have to avert my eyes or distance myself because the tears will start and not be able to stop. I hate that I find it hard to rejoice in others excitement, that hearing their new memories pains me so. But I am able to step back and recognize how joyous these events must be for them. I am able to hope for a beautiful, healthy baby and a rich life for their children. I could never wish my sorrow on any of these mothers. I am so very sad for myself and so bittersweetly happy for them at the same time. I live torn between my own grief and their rejoicing. I live in the in-between, pulled on by two desires, two very real truths. How can I weep and smile all at the same time?

I feel torn about grieving Hope and hoping for another child. I feel like my sadness is and should be very real for my little girl. I feel as if no other child will fill the place of beauty and wonder Hope brought to our lives. My heart believes that no experience could ever live up to the joyous and miraculous journey of being pregnant with my first, my little girl. And still, I feel that we must hope for another child; I feel like that would be the best way to honor Hope's name and what she offered to our world. I desperately want the experience again of discovering we're pregnant and dreaming of the life we might share with our child. Herb so wisely said that just because we're joyous about a new child, doesn't mean we will stop being sad about our Hope. But how is it that we can Hope and grieve in the same breath, in the same moments? How is it that we can love what we have and miss what was lost instantaneously?

Our thoughts and emotions are often at odds with one another. We can cry and laugh at the same time. We can love and hate someone in a given situation. We can be content and still dream of more. We have the God-given capacity to be both. I can only imagine how very torn God felt the day His son hung on the cross; what joy He must have known in reconciling His children to Himself, but what tears of sorrow He must have shed at the price that that reconciliation cost, His only son.

Maybe we are supposed to be torn, maybe it is part of living in this fallen world. We are able to know greatly the beauty of God's creation, His plan and His character, but we are also plagued with the knowledge of brokenness that sin brings to the world. We know both, we must live with both, and thus we should be torn.

I've come to terms with being torn, it is my reality for now, or maybe for always. Yet it is my hope that while I may be torn it will not be in a way that tears me from the arms of my loving Father.

Hope-full

2009-12-09T19:31:00.002-07:00

One of my amazing former students wrote me this note. I am so incredibly moved by her words and the beauty in them that I asked her if I could share it. I am so blessed by Ellie and by her gift with words and by her uncanny ability to speak to my heart. I hope you also can appreciate her beauty. Thank you Ellie for touching my heart and allowing me to share your precious heart with others.

Hope-full

I must tell you that I think about her every day. I think of all the wonderful times we would have had when she was older and I could tell her all of the crazy stories I know about you, and joke that her mother is one big English nerd, and made me who I am today. I would tell her of all the love we all felt for her the minute we knew she was coming. I would tell her of all the love and pain we felt when she went straight to God instead.

You are a wonderful mother. I know she feels unbelievably loved and will never be forgotten, not even when we have others of your children to recollect stories to and to play with. I miss the times I would have come over and stared at her, because I know she would have been unbelievably beautiful inside and out like her mother.

I love you, and I know I'll see her one day and so will you.

Your daughter,
Ellie

Christmas without you

2009-12-06T09:37:00.003-07:00

Journal 3:

Christmas will be different this year without you.

I can't even begin to explain how heartbroken I am to spend this Christmas without you. Christmas is my favorite time of year, and I had big dreams about sharing it this year and every year with you. But that is not to be. So let me tell you what I wanted to share with you and what I will miss.

First of all, I've always dreamed of being pregnant at Christmas. I wanted to know first hand the anticipation Mary felt in waiting for Jesus to come. I love the Amy Grant song Breath of Heaven and I just dreamed about how God would reveal to me how He had especially chosen me to carry you. He has shown me that but far differently than I had imagined.

By this time everyone would've known that you were my precious little girl, so I was looking forward to all things pink and girly under the tree. There would've been ornaments to hang about your arrival, documenting that you were to come soon. There would be things for the nursery and laughter and joy as we imagined designing your room just for you. Grandma being Grandma would've wrapped gifts for you and placed them under the tree. Of course you couldn't open them but that wouldn't stop her from beginning your love of Christmas early.

The whole build up to Christmas would be entirely different as well. This is our frist Christmas in this house but it also would be our first Chrismtas as a family. We had already purchased a cute Broncos snowman family to display--a husband, wife and little one. We aren't displaying that this year, it will remain in the closet because you aren't coming.

We did decorate but it wasn't the same without you. I was able to move furniture and lift the Christmas tree because I didn't need to protect you. Your dad got frustrated as usual putting the tree in the stand; if you were here I would've laughed and explained to you that this will be an every year occurence. We decorated the tree but I know that if you'd been here we wouldn't have waited a moment to take pictures--pictures of you inside me "helping" decorate for the first time; pictures of us as a faimly in front of the tree. These pictures would've been our Christmas card, a note to our friends celebrating the anticipation of your arrival. This year there won't be a Christmas card.

The White Christmas party will be different too. I was so looking forward to having you with me for the baking process. You would've known Grandma's voice and all of our favorite Christmas songs by the time the day was over. And we would've had another yummy food experience--I know you would've loved artichoke dip and People Chow. They're my favorites. And then we would've watched my favorite Christmas movie and you'd know those songs too. Aunt Kevyn and I would've made sure you heard the song Sisters--it's one of our favorites. All of my dearest friends would be there and I have no doubt they'd rub my belly. I was looking forward to that too.

I was so anticipating mornings with you and Jesus while we drank peppermint mocha and did our quiet time in front of the twinkling Christmas tree. Those moments are so precious to me and I wanted to share them with you.

I am also grieving advent without you. I know Grandma would've had fun little baby things for us to open each morning. And my advent shirt was to be different, it was designed to celebrate your arrival. But I changed it after you left and now wearing the new shirt brings me a bit of sadness. And I so wanted to fill your dad's advent with future father things. Instead I have nothing for Dad for advent. It makes me sad but I have no ideas.

This Christmas without you is absent of ideas. I have no ideas about what to get others. I know your Grandma Shelley wanted a portrait of your dad and I before you joined our little family. That's not quite the same now. I also don't doubt we would've purchased Grandma-to-be, Aunt-to-be and Grandpa-to-be items, not so anymore.

My lack of ideas especially extends to me. I have no idea of what I want for Christmas. All of my gift ideas involved you and now they're gone. I don't really want gifts under the Christmas tree; all I want for Christmas is you and I can't have that. So I believe Christmas morning will be bittersweet.

I'm trying so hard to still enjoy Christmas. I'm trying to allow my favorite Christmas carols to still warm my heart and try to push all of the baby references out of my mind. I am trying to enjoy decorating our house for the first time, accepting the emptiness that I feel in our house right now. I am going to try to enjoy presents Christmas morning but I know my heart will be heavy without you. I will try to enjoy as Grandma reads Twas the Night Before Christmas, even though you will be missing from the family gathered on the bed.

Please know that I am trying to enjoy these things for you, not in spite of you. I know that you fully understand that Jesus came that we might have life abundantly, so I am desparately trying to find abundant life. I am trying to honor your name because this season is above all about Hope. The Hope of our Jesus.

I will ache this Christmas season without you here. You will be missed in so many places and at so many moments, but I know you are part of a bigger celebration. Enjoy the angel's jubilation as the world celebrates the most precious gift, a baby who came that we might truly know life. I have a slightly greater glimpse of the power of God's gift this year and that is because of you.

Baby girl, I wish you were here to share in my favorite traditions but thank you precious girl for being my most treasured gift this year.

Merry Christmas Love,
Mom

Favorite Things

2009-12-05T07:16:00.002-07:00

This is journal number 2:

Our relationship was special. I want to describe things we did together, what we enjoyed and some of our favorite things.

In some ways this question is difficult because our memories aren't the same as memories I share with others. But when I think back on my pregnancy there are many things I'm so glad we shared together.

For one, I am so very glad you came with me on baseball adventures new and old. We shared several games at Chase Field watching the D-backs in one of their worst seasons ever. But we ate hot dogs and ice cream and sang "Take Me Out to the Ballgame". We also experienced an amazing encounter with God at the Mercy Me concert at Chase. I felt so close to God that night and so very close to you.

We also went to two new ballparks together--Coors Field and Citizens Bank Park. You got to experience baseball with your Grandpa Don and Grandma Nancy who don't love baseball, but loved both of us enough to go see the Rockies. Another D-back loss we witnessed together. Then Dawn went on a big adventure with us to see the Phillies. I was so happy you were there sharing that new place with me, especially because your dad couldn't be. We ate some pretty yummy ice cream there too.

Your presence prompted my spirit of adventure and so off I went to Philly to visit Dawn. I'm not too keen on doing things alone, but I didn't feel alone--you were there. We strolled through the most beautiful art museum I've ever seen and I told you all about my favorite paintings. We spent hours in Constitution Hall and you humored me as I perused every display there. You wandered the city of Philly with me as we found the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall and Christ Church. You were such a trooper because we were both exhausted at that point.

Dawn went with us on our New York adventure. I'm so glad you experienced a Broadway show; the music was amazing, wasn't it? And we certainly did our fair share of walking that day, but it was worth it for the food...

Oh baby girl did we share food! You really were your mother's daughter in this area. From the get-go you were hungry all the time. I felt like I was constantly eating--yogurt, pretzels, nuts, granola bars--but you did not like chicken. Rotisserie chicken and I may never be the same again after you. But boy did you love avacado and guacamole-yum!

Although we had some rocky food moments (did I mention you weren't a big fan of sugar?) we shared some good meals. You loved pizza and just like Mom and Dad, you loved your Old Chicago. There was also the Philly Cheese steak with Dawn as well as that delicious lemon and caper chicken in New York. And you sweetly let your Mom eat a huge peanut butter sundae at Serendipity--thank you for that.

Our experiences were so limited. I never even got to take you to my happy place--Disneyland. But I am so thankful for the time I had with you. I enjoyed showing you off to others; you gave me a cute little belly. I enjoyed talking to you, explaining who people were and telling you about how things would be when you arrived. I loved singing to you--I hope those songs echo in your heart forever. I enjoyed worshiping with you inside of me; your presence gave me a greater glimpse of our God. I loved talking to your dad about what you'd be like, who you'd be and what I was looking forward to doing with you.

Thank you for being my constant companion for 19 weeks. The moments we shared I will treasure always. I wish there were more, I wish I could fill this book with stories of our adventures, I wish that all of my heart. But God has different adventures in store for you. May you frolic and sing and talk and read and hug and dance with our Jesus. Practice for me because when I get to heaven I will need you to teach me. We will share all of those things together someday sweet girl. I can't wait!

I love you sweet girl,
Mom

Journaling

2009-12-04T10:19:00.002-07:00

My counselor encouraged me to journal through my grief process, so I've started a hand-written journal. There is something therapeutic about hand-writing my thoughts, but I do love the authenticity of sharing my heart via blog. So I'm going to try and track my thoughts in both places. Below is my first journal entry. Thanks for sharing this journey with me.

I want to begin this journal describing who you were and what you meant to me.

Who you were started long before your conception. Your dad and I made a bet when we were first married that I wouldn't last six months without talking about my dreams of having children. Your dad underestimates my will and I won, but it was only because I didn't open my mouth when those dreams came to mind.

After that I did often talk about wanting children. I looked forward with great anticipation and longing to the day we would be Mom and Dad. There was much waiting attached to that dream--waiting on me to finish college, waiting on your dad to finish law school, waiting on a house, waiting on a job, waiting...

But the day we discovered we were pregnant our waiting had all been worthwhile. You were here, you were growing inside of me and you were on your way to meet us. I tried to contain my excitement, tried to hide how overjoyed that this moment had come. After all, we had no guarantee that you were a sure thing, at least not until we heard your precious heart beat.

So at first we told our most trusted family and friends. Grandma and Aunt Kevyn were just tickled pink to welcome you to our world, maybe I should say ticked blue because almost everyone was convinced you were a boy. Even your dad was certain you were a boy, but I knew differently. I knew you were a precious little girl, my little girl. I had always thought I wanted a boy but when I became pregnant with you the desires of my heart changed. I wanted my little girl, I wanted you. We were going to be a mother and daughter pair equal to my mom and me. I couldn't wait to watch you twirl and sing and hold my hand as you told me your stories, because I knew you'd be a great storyteller like your momma.

The more people we told, the more excited others grew in anticipation of you and the more my excitement grew. The day we heard your heart beat was a magical day. We went to see Dr. Riley with great anticipation in our hearts and we waited with baited breath as she searched for your tiny heart beat. And there it was! Confirmation that you were there and growing and ours! The look on your daddy's face was so tender--he was so excited that you were here! And that is when we decided to tell the world. We told everyone. It was impossible to contain excitement like that--the joy of you just overflowing from our hearts, our faces. You were to be our first born, our precious life-changing miracle. You were going to change everything, in the best way possible.

You meant fulfilling my life's dream, fulfilling my heart's desires. I was going to leave teaching to stay at home with you. Your arrival meant a new job description for me. Your arrival meant feeling less alone in so many ways. It meant I would finally know and understand the experience of carrying a child and being a mother--I would no longer be standing outside of the mother club looking in. Selfish I know, but it was one of the things you brought me.

Your arrival was and did rock my world. You meant a new walk in life. You meant a deeper understanding of God, of the sacrifice of His son. You meant new joys, new ways of looking at life. You meant new worries, new things to think about, new challenges. You meant HOPE, the anticipation of great things. You were your name long before we gave it to you. You embodied your name and lived up to it in so many ways.

I speak and write about you in the past tense but you are also present. Your presence bring Hope. I can see it as I talk about you, people are inspired, encouraged, enlightened, uplifted. You are a reminder of how beautiful life can be, how precious each life truly is. You are a reminder to be thankful for and love who we have. You are my Hope, you give me Hope and you remind me so often of the Hope found in my Jesus.

I think it's important to write about another precious aspect of who you were. You had Down's Syndrome and I hope you can see that this in no way defines you. It isn't what I think about or see when I imagine you, but it is a part of who you were. I'm not sure how it's possible because I loved you so very deeply in the first place but when I discovered this truth about you, I loved you all the more. Your Down's Syndrome would have been a challenge, yes, but it would've made you more beautiful with something so uniquely special to offer this world. I know that you had deep capacity for love and that would've been and was such a gift to my heart, and I can't even imagine the impact your love would've had on the world. I have no doubt that you are loving people to pieces up there in heaven. Almost every vision I have of you is of you running with open arms to hug someone, Jesus, me, Aunt Kelly and so I am certain of the love you are spreading around heaven.

My little one, I want you to know that you were my Hope and my dreams, you were what I longed for, you were my heart's desire. But my deepest desire when I think about it was that you know the Lord and now you have that so perfectly and immediately. So thank you for fulfilling my heart's desire. Thank you for bringing me joy, hope and anticipation, for being my first. And thank you for allowing us to meet you, hold you, cherish you, love you. It is a joy and an honor to be your mom. You gave me that title you know--Mom. Without you I wouldn't have that. But because of you I know the love of a mother for her child--it is a fierce love, one that I am grateful to know and grateful to have for you. And because of you, dear one, I more fiercely know and love my Savior. I more deeply understand His love, His grace, His mercy, His comfort. These are all gifts you've given me. You've abundantly blessed my life and for you I will be forever grateful. I will love you always, even as life passes on; you will be and are always in my heart.

I love you my Hope,
Mom

Musings Part 3

2009-11-30T08:49:00.002-07:00

-One must be a glutton for punishment to go to Disneyland after losing a child; it is after all the land of children of all ages. I lasted 5 minutes before I broke down crying after seeing a mom and daughter interact in the bathroom.

-The hardest part of this loss is grieving the dreams you had for your child. The hard part is that some of the dreams you've identified and some you haven't even thought of. Here are some of the dreams lost that I experienced this weekend:

*Taking my daughter to Disneyland and watching her face light up at each of the characters

*Watching Hope's face as she watched fireworks; there is nothing as magical as a child's face as they watch fireworks

*Sharing all of my favorite Disneyland places--Peter Pan, Small World, Pirates of the Carribean

*Holding her hand; this one kept coming to me over and over again

*As I listened to each of my family members interact with my cousin's daughter, I grieved not getting to hear them play with Hope. I will miss out on her laughter as they tickle her or chase her. I will miss out on hearing my Aunt Kasey sing songs, real and made up, to Hope. But the one that is overwhelming to think about is not getting to hear my mom call Hope "Pumpkin-diddle", her nickname for me growing up.

*Hearing Hope say "Momma"

*Sharing holiday traditions with my little girl, traditions that have meant so much to me.

-Do you know how many Christmas songs are about being pregnant, giving birth and newborn babies? I do.

-I didn't cry nearly at all yesterday and when I got to the end of the day I felt badly about that. I shouldn't but I did.

-I've been trying to not distract myself from pain or ignore it, but it was the only way to survive Disneyland. I guess I've got to do what I need to do to get through some days.

-Herb's grief looks different than mine, but once I figured it out it was a beautiful sight to behold.

-You know my family is good at grieving because they always carry soft tissues.

-Most women claim that their body shape changes after pregnancy but they don't mind so much because they have this beautiful baby. My body shape has definitely changed and it just makes me all the more sad.

-The thought of making a list of material things I want for Christmas is very difficult for me. I don't really want any material things and the one thing that I want that isn't material I can't have.

-I still want to decorate for Christmas but I don't really have any inspiration for gift giving this year. Will people understand if I don't give at my normal creative capacity? I sure hope so.

-I have experienced God's comfort and rest in the midst of this. I am thankful for much needed rest and for a place to retreat when I am too overwhelmed.

Musings of a grieving woman-part 2

2009-11-23T13:08:00.002-07:00

-I hate getting dressed in the morning because none of my regular clothes fit and I don't want to wear pregnancy clothes. I usually end up in tears.

-I feel a lot of pressure, mostly from myself, to have a plan and know what I should be doing. The pressure doesn't help the already difficult decisions I have to face.

-I think often about the trying again process, and it leaves me with so many questions:

*Would I want a boy or a girl? I was so convinced Hope was a girl and I wanted that little girl so badly. What if I did have another girl? Would I feel like she was replacing Hope? What if I have a boy? Would I be sad to miss out on the experience of my little girl? I'm sure I will feel blessed with whatever child God's given me, but I still question...

*People say you make room in your heart for a second child, that your love grows to encompass them both. How does it work to make room in my heart for my second child when I don't even feel like I've had the full opportunity to be a mom of my first?

*How on earth would I survive if this happened again?

*How do I honor Hope while enjoying the process of having another child?

-This week is going to really suck. I'm grieving the loss of the week in which we were supposed to see our baby for the first time on sonogram. I'm grieving the loss of the opportunity to announce her gender to our family and friends. I'm grieving the excitement that Wednesday was to bring. I'm grieving that my family won't get to meet my little girl and rub my belly. I'm grieving this week...

-I was thinking about what a uniquely cool experience I will get to have when arriving in heaven. I will get to meet my baby in her glorified body and embrace her truly for the first time. Yet another piece of heaven to look toward eagerly. I can't wait Hope, I can't wait!

-During worship last night I was convicted that I can't make my grief and my Hope an idol in my life. Instead of becoming consumed, I need to focus more on God's hand in all of this, how He is working. Not exactly sure how to do that, but I'm trying...

-Last night at church our pastor encouraged us to thank God for the hard things in our lives. I wonder, do I have to get to the place where I can thank God for my miscarriage? For taking my Hope? I'm not sure if I can get to that place...I can absolutely thank Him for the things His doing around and through this, but I'm not sure I can thank Him for taking her away.

-The only way I can reconcile or be at peace with this situation is to believe that it is for God's glory. It is my only current comfort.

-I'm thankful for the deep reassurance God has placed in my heart of His existence and power and love and mercy and hope. Without them, I'm not sure I could walk through the bouts of silence and hurt.

-What will Disneyland be like for me this week? Will it still be the happiest place on earth? Will I still be able to find joy there? Or will I be unable to enjoy, unable to experience happiness? I hope I can enjoy, or is it rather that I hope I can allow myself to enjoy it.

-I'm looking forward to being with my family this week. For lack of a better way to put it, they are good at grieving and I will appreciate and take comfort in their grieving alongside of me.

Musing of a grief sticken woman-part 1

2009-11-19T15:35:00.003-07:00

I have many small thoughts that hit me like a semi-truck or things that run through my mind that I feel like sharing. This is my forum for these thoughts.

-Most women would rejoice that they fit into their pre-pregnancy pants; I sat on the floor of my bedroom and cried.

-Yogurt was my pregnancy food; it helped keep the nausea at bay and kept me from getting hungry while sleeping. Eating it now is hard, and I just don't want to.

-I keep speaking about my pregnancy in the present tense and then I remember...

-I used to look at my belly in the shower thankful that it was growing; now I look down and wish it were there.

-What do I do with things like the pregnancy test, things that we kept with such joy?

-I keep remembering things I've said throughout my pregnancy that are painful to think of now. Examples: "What an amazing blessing that no woman in our Bible study has miscarried." " All of these women are having their second babies, I think one would be more than enough for me."

-"What if" questions may be worse than "why" questions. Both occur far too frequently.

-The people who come by remind me of how blessed I truly am. If it weren't for them, I'd get too lost in the blessing I've lost.

-I can't imagine going through this with anyone but Herb. I am married to the sweetest, most gentle and patient man. He is one of God's greatest gifts to me.

-My attention span is very small. I can't stay focused on one thing for too long. Very unusual for me.

-Music gives me words to talk to God when I have none. I'm thankful for that.

-I think about dumb things like "I haven't shaved since the miscarriage" and I am resistant to doing those things, like it will somehow change what already is.

-I don't miss work at all; it's a very strange phenomenon.

That's all I got for now.

Loss

2009-11-18T09:59:00.002-07:00

I know I haven't posted in a while, in fact I haven't posted since becoming pregnant. And now here I am posting after the loss of my little Hope at 18 weeks of pregnancy. I am not really as coherent with my thoughts as I'd like to be, but I did want to share this vision I had yesterday. It has been precious in holding my heart up these last 24 hours.

I was listening to a CD made for me, I call it For Hope, and one of the songs was talking about how she couldn't see God, but in actuality He had been standing beside her crying along with her. When I started to think on that, this image popped into my head:

I started to imagine God last Monday, watching me live through my day as usual, knowing what I was about to find out Monday afternoon. I imagine how grieved His heart was knowing the pain I was about to endure. I imagine Him wanting to rescue me from it, but knowing it was too late, everything had been set in motion. So He just sat, and watched me, and cried as I found out the most earth shattering news possible. He is my Daddy, just like I am Hope's Mommy and Herb is Hope's Daddy, and I know that more than anything in the world He wanted to ease our pain.

For some of you this image might not be comforting, but for me it reminds me of God's character. He is gentle, loving, and we are so very precious to Him. So when I am angry or when I am hurting or when I am lost or when I am hopeless, I try and remember God's gentle hand wiping away my tears as He weeps along with me.

History

2009-08-01T08:33:00.003-07:00

God is full of non-coincidences this week! My anxiety has been much lower for the past ten days, and I could point to many different factors, but I think the most important is history. I know it sounds odd, but when I went through and re-read my blog entries I was reminded so much of how faithful God has been to me. I could see how He's worked through so many trying circumstances to create good. It was evident the love and care He has for me.

Then I've been focusing on the first lyrics of the Watermark song "Who Am I?"

Over time you've healed so much in me and I am living proof
That although my darkest hour had come Your light could still shine through
Though at times its just enough to cast a shadow on the wall
Lord, I am grateful that you shined Your light on me at all

He has healed so much in me, and in my darkest hours I've seen Him shine. These words have just reverberated in my heart.

Also being back in the classroom has reminded me that historically I've been a strong teacher, not perfect, but strong. I have a sense that in general I know what I'm doing, which eases much of the stress and anxiety of the job.

But all of this was just theory until we watched the Truth Project this week. The topic for this week's lecture was: History. Dr. Tackett spent this week explaining how history is one of our most powerful links to the Lord. He points to the many instances where God asks His people to remember His goodness to them. The celebration of Passover to remember how He spared the first born child, the celebration of communion to remember the sacrifice of Christ. Remembering is important to God because it is good for us.

He then discussed the way in which the enemy tries to shake us, by revising history, causing us to forget. Dr. Tackett points to the first instance of turning from God--the Serpent told Eve that she did not remember correctly what God had instructed her. He revised God's words and twisted them to create doubt. When we can't remember God's goodness and faithfulness, we doubt them, which is not a reflection on God but on us. This is why it is so important that we remember our story and the greater story we are a part of. Our history is important.

Finally in my "do not fear" study I stumbled upon this passage in Isaiah 51:12-16:
I, even I, am He who comforts you
Who are you that you are afraid of man who dies
And of the son of man who is made like grass,
¹³That you have forgotten the LORD your Maker,
Who stretched out the heavens
And laid the foundations of the earth,
That you fear continually all day long because of the fury of the oppressor,
As he makes ready to destroy?
But where is the fury of the oppressor?

¹⁴"The exile will soon be set free, and will not die in the dungeon, nor will his bread be lacking.

¹⁵"For I am the LORD your God, who stirs up the sea and its waves roar (the LORD of hosts is His name).

¹⁶"I have put My words in your mouth and have covered you with the shadow of My hand, to establish the heavens, to found the earth, and to say to Zion, 'You are My people.'"

Fear comes when we forget, when we forget how Sovereign and powerful our God is, when we forget that He has covered us in the shadow of His hand, when we forget that we are His people. But freedom comes when we remember.

All experiences point to remembering my history. So right now, I'm focusing on my story and the greater story I am a part of. I'm trying to remember God's faithfulness and goodness. And I'm working on recognizing the revised history that Satan is trying to use against me. Our God is faithful and His story is good; it might not be safe, but it is good. I want to be a part of history, His story for our lives.

A job!

2009-07-25T09:34:00.003-07:00

Just in case you haven't read via facebook, Herb got a job offer yesterday at the legal defender's office! I'm just overwhelmed at the way God honored our willingness to wait on Him and also our willingness to step out in faith, take risks, and His response to those risks. We bought a house on complete faith that God would provide our funding and He has. He is faithful, always has been, always will be. But I also recognize that He's faithful regardless of positive circumstances, and yet it is in moments like these that I am so humbly reminded. My plans are far from perfect, but God's timing is breathtaking. Praise God for His faithfulness and His goodness!

Another non-coincidence

2009-07-23T07:15:00.002-07:00

I really don't have time to write, but I feel so compelled to share how God coincides moments of my life. I've been listening diligently this week to Watermark's All Things New CD, one of my favorites. Specifically I wanted to listen to Who Am I? after reflecting on the lyrics in reading through my old blogs. But I also happened upon many other amazing songs, specifically You are My Stronghold. They just resonated with where I am right now. Here are the lyrics:

Lord you are my light and my salvation
Whom shall I fear if you are near
Lord you are my peace when there is war all around me
And even here inside me I will have no fear

Oh Lord you're my protection from my enemies
You set me high upon a rock and You defend my soul
And when their ways advance against me
I am confident that they cannot make me less, for you have made me whole
O Lord, you are my stronghold
You are my stronghold

Lord you are my strength so let my head be lifted up
That I may glory in the ways you've overcome
Lord you are my home because you've created in me,
a heart that lives the victory that you've already won

I've also been reading through the "Do not be afraid" passages in scripture (there are 365! Isn't that amazing!?) I happened upon Psalm 27, which is the passage that most of these lyrics are drawn from. The words are so powerful! AND there is also a passage from one of my favorite songs in high school, One Thing that I Ask, that used to get me through tough times. I don't think these words resonating in my heart in different forms is anything less than God's providence, and I just find that exciting!

Who I Am

2009-07-18T10:30:00.002-07:00

Last night I started a journey through old blog posts. I just felt compelled to read over my writing journey and see where God has led me. Through this, I'm sure God-prompted, process I found something magnificent that I had most definitely lost--me. In re-reading my thoughts, my words, my experiences, I was reminded of the hopeful, God-filled Katie that I once had been. I've been desperately grabbing at her with head knowledge and foolish and seemingly logical wisdom, instead of reaching for the core of who she is--her heart. And this walk through who I have been has pointed me back to the core of who God is--His heart. I've so forgotten the ways He has been faithful, the powerful ways that He has grown and changed me, the fulfilled promises in my life. I've been so consumed with the things that could be that I've forgotten to look at what once was.

This process left me with a greater peace than I've known in a long time. I remember now the beauty of the God I serve, and I remember the beauty of the Godly woman that is in me. I'm going to paste below the pieces of various blogs that have reminded me of poignant aspects of my character or God's that are so comforting and renewing to me. If you'd like to join in my journey feel free. It might be a long journey, but these words have been healing, all of them, so I want to give them the credit they deserve. This is who I am:

Hope-I am Hopeful
My Hope comes in the faith that the events of my life, of the lives of people around me, are with great purpose. Yes there's consequence to action, yes there's temptation and meddling by Satan, but more importantly there's Hope in what God will do in my life through this situation.

Love Actually-I am loving
This post is more of a prompting and reminder for me to be ever vigilant in watching for love. One moment can sustain a whole day, and it is a collection of these moments that sustain a lifetime. Our purpose on this earth is love actually, and I don't want to miss the opportunity to give or receive love.

My Logic-My reasons for teaching are powerful...
So is it time consuming to be a high school teacher? Yes. Do I feel worked to the bone and often unappreciated? Yes. Do I often wonder if I make a difference in my day to day? Yes. But do I believe I am living out God's will? Yes. Do I believe that I have a great power and influence over the lives in my classroom? Yes. And is it worth the sacrifice? Absolutely.

So if you wonder where I am daily, why I'm often not as responsive as I should be, why I'm exhausted and asleep by 8 o'clock, the answer is I'm loving kids. I'm finding their quirks and adoring them as they are. And I am proud to live in the footsteps of Jesus and in the example of my Aunt Kelly. I hope that one day children will know Jesus by His love that they experienced through me.

In Over My Head--I'm trusting in God's plan for me...
He had a plan, He had a dream for me with a desire to see me thrive and live life abundantly. The Lord will supply all my needs, according to His riches and glory. I need to trust that. And what really needs to happen in my head and in my heart is this: I need to let go of my worries and fears and let God be in control of what this year will be. Am I any good at this particular task? No. But do I want to be? Yes indeed I do. Thus, I am going to try my hardest not to worry about the year to come and instead I'm going to trust that God will take care of it. He does have a plan.

Over time you've healed so much in me
And I am living proof
That although my darkest hour had come
Your light could still shine through
And though at times it's just enough to cast a shadow on the wall
Lord I am grateful that you shined Your light on me at all

Uncensored-I am constantly learning how to give myself grace...
I know that I'm harder on myself than anyone else is. Herb constantly says "I've forgiven you, why haven't you forgiven yourself?" And it's a fair point, one that I'm sure God is trying to make to me through Herb. So maybe I just need to cut myself some slack and let it be okay that I'm still wounded. And I guess that's what this blog entry was designed to accomplish. If I admit that I am struggling to give myself grace and that I'm still in pieces, then maybe I will feel less ashamed at my imperfections. And maybe it's not even an imperfection so much as a weakness or a struggle. But either way, it's okay that I'm not healed and I'm sure that you all would say the same to me. I just need to continue to repeat that to myself and hopefully this is my first step in granting myself grace.

Out of Control-I am still learning to let go of control, but I'm learning...
Taking risks has proven powerful in positive ways in my life. So why, oh why, can't I remember that each time God asks me to let go? Because I'm human, I'm sure is part of it. Because Satan doesn't want me to remember, which I believe is part of it as well. Or maybe it's because with each risk a new part of myself is vulnerable and that's a new type of scary. Maybe I lack the faith to transfer that previous experience to a new experience. No matter what the reason, I want to learn to be out of control! I want to learn to trust more and have great faith that the Lord will be all I need! So I echo the father of the ailing boy in Mark 9, "Master I do believe, help my unbelief!" And maybe experience by experience I will take more risk and engage more trust. At least this is my hope, I'll keep you posted on how this life long struggle goes. :-)

Coincidence-I am constantly looking for God's hand in my life, and I am beautiful...
All of my ramblings to get to this point: God is constantly working and to expect to know the reason right away is ridiculous because if I knew the reason I might be more resistant to the events that lead up to that purpose.

So I truly believe I have a beautiful piece of God's character in desiring everything to be interconnected. It gives me great Hope to find life to be more than just a series of coincidences. Thus if I ever begin questioning what role this has in God's plans for me, just say "Hey Katie, coincidence? I think not."

Music from the Heart-I love the power music has over me!
It's amazing how powerful music is to my heart. I can't explain the ways that a song can touch me in a manner that nothing else can. I can listen to lyrics and be moved to tears, moved to laughter, moved to dance or moved to raise my voice in praise. I have to believe that music is one of those precious gifts granted to us by our precious Lord. Without it, I'm not sure what I'd do. When asked which sense I'd rather lose, hearing or sight, although baffled by the depth of this question, I have to ultimately choose sight, because without song I fear my soul would be weakened.

Food Glorious Food-Food is how I love people, and I love to love people this way!
But more than an unnatural cure for difficult situations, I like to use food to express my love and care for others. So if I bring you a pan of rice krispie treats, it's because I'm stuck to you. If I bring you a plate of brownies, it's because I think you're sweet. I try to choose foods that reflect tastes and interests that I remember about the person I'm cooking for. Be it vegetarian, dislike for sauces or a food allergy to cilantro, I have your best interest at heart. Thus, if I invite you over for dinner, it's because I want you to be a part of my life. If I feed you, it's because I love you. It won't always be fancy, it won't always be decorative, and it might involve salad out of a bag, but even if it's not fancy, know it's heartfelt.

My First Graduate-I am blessed by my role as a teacher
What a blessing! I have no more words to describe my emotions right now except to say that I have an awesome job, and God has given me these students to change my life. I am blessed.

Miss Jane Austen-I love to read!
All there is left to say is, thank you Jane Austen! Thank you for inviting me into a world so vivid I do not even want for imagination. Thank you for using your words to craft characters who reach the core of my being. Thank you for creating books designed to be timeless. You are a gift to readers and especially a gift to me. I look forward to being lost in your worlds many times over!

See the Beauty-I am inadequate but also uniquely created to orchestrate part of God's beauty!
God in His infinite wisdom and love for beauty has created unique creatures, each designed for a specific purpose. He has gifted me to touch the lives of some in my circle of influence, but He's created others to do the same. How beautiful each and every one of us are for vastly different reasons! How precious are we each created to serve unique purposes in this world! I want to focus on the beauty in others, instead of judge their shortcomings because God has a purpose for their beauty despite their flaws. And the same goes for me; God has a plan for me in spite of my inadequacies.

Beauty is often found in brokenness. When we see a Phoenix rise from the ashes, or a tear stained toddler's face smile as he tries to walk again, there is beauty amidst the pain. I believe there is beauty all around us, in each person we encounter, in each image our eye takes in. But I believe God's crowning glory, the height of His beauty is in the heart of man, and man is broken. We are God's masterpiece, and even the dark lines that brush their way through our stories provide more definition and depth to the painting. "In brokenness comes beauty, divine fragility, reminding me of nail scarred hands reaching out to me." Again, the darker parts of our lives, whether they be sin or struggle, yield beautiful depth to God's creation.

Essays Done!-I am intimately known and cared for by God!
God so intimately knows my heart and needs. He is well aware of my schedule and what needs to be done, and He will take care of it if I put my faith in Him. So I'm elated to say that my essays are done and God has cleared my schedule for more important things, like my relationships with people. God so totally rocks, dude! (If you missed the Disneyland reference there, you need to come on our next trip! I'm sure it's on the horizon!)

Put Together Katie-I am authentic
So I'm not going to exhaust myself striving to show a tough exterior to the world. I don't have that kind of energy to give. Instead I'm going to be honest with myself and with those around me. Is this easier? No way. It may be harder, much harder, but this time the work is that of the Lord's to heal me, and less of my wrestling to keep up a front. And as for others' response to my new found unguarded self, "their response is not my responsibility." (Thanks mom for the positive nag!)

Fire-I want to be refined and thus more beautiful and flavorful
So why then not me? Why is it my instinct to run from fire? Why do I fear the trials so?

Although the fire is essential for creation, it doesn't make it gentle and tender. Some flames are, but very rarely will anything suffer fire without being burned or scarred in some way. But the end result is far more beautiful and flavorful than what went in. There's nothing appetizing about raw meat, but once exposed to the flame, nothing look so good as a char-broiled burger.

Decision Making-My decisions aren't all bad
For example, my planning last night, the two distinct paths, both of them are good. Both of them would be valuable to the kids. But which one would be best? And when I do decide, I'm stuck. This decision stays with me the rest of the semester. So much pressure!

But really, not. I mean, as I said before, both are good options. The kids won't be scarred by a wrong decision. So why do I dwell? Why question? I don't know...all I can say is this: I'm working on it. And hopefully one day my theory will come true and teaching will have converted me into a decisive person. But maybe, just maybe, I have to decide to be decisive. If so, help me God!

Hold Me Now-Even though I am weak, I am also strong
There's a lot here, but the most powerful piece to me is that it is the same heart the one that feels love so deeply and the one that so deeply grieves. It is sometimes our most beautiful attributes that can make us weak. It is the most precious gifts from God that can easily be corrupted. But that's why God meets us where we are and fills in those gaps. He, as Jennifer Knapp so gracefully puts it, holds us NOW.

Specifics-I am about changing and growing, even if it comes at a cost
I'm going to try to embrace my specific imperfections as opportunities to grow and not as reasons to be ashamed. That doesn't mean the specifics won't hurt, but it does mean that I'll try to remember that growth hurts. The pain will be a symptom of my ever-changing heart, which will bear testimony of my growth toward God. And that's a specific I can really get behind.

The Underdog-I LOVE hope!
As I was just typing that last paragraph, it came to me, why I root for the underdog. The answer is hope. I love to have hope, and rooting for the team less touted, rooting for the guy less equipped, rooting for the weaker vessel affords the opportunity for hope. This must be how Jesus feels about us; constantly cheering on the underdog. As we know from scripture, he doesn't choose the smartest, most powerful men to lead his people. He chooses the underdog. So maybe that's it too. Maybe my cheers for the underdog echo Christ in me. How cool!

I Have Hope-Maybe I've finally let down my guard and experienced the pain, but now it's time to allow the healing power of hope to consume me.

Then the following conversation occurred:

Jesus' response to me "Don't guard your heart that way!"

"But you gave me hope. I'm using it."

"Yes, but it's not an escape. You still have to feel it."

"What do you mean 'feel it'? I'm feeling it."

"Are you? Remember pain has a purpose."

End of conversation. Jesus was right. (I know, oh so surprising!) While hope is an amazing gift it can't be a scapegoat. I can't hide behind hope as a means of not experiencing the pain and realities of the situations I face. Because the pain has a purpose and if I don't allow myself to experience the pain I won't grow.

I began to process this more and I thought about how scary this could be. It is important, invaluable to allow myself to experience pain. However it is also invaluable to protect my heart or allow God to do so. It is important to not allow the pain to consume me, consume my thoughts or dictate my attitude. I must find a balance.

Ah, that word balance. It pops up everywhere in my life. Yet it's true; it's imperative that I allow the pain to have it's purpose, and allow Jesus to give me hope. I can still have hope. It is still a tool that Jesus is going to use, but I can't hide behind it. I have to allow the pain to have a purpose, and the growth the results can be yet another source of hope. I do have hope, but I'm now going to use it as God intended, not abuse it to spare me pain.

Topics of Conversation-I love to be known and to know others!
I love that feeling, the feeling that somebody gets you. It sometimes the joy I find in teaching; the moment when the students "get" what I'm saying is magical. The same goes for our easy going conversation tonight. There were no pretenses, no facades, just authenticity. I have the inclination that this feeling wasn't derived from our topic of conversation, but rather the friends I was with. Although the topic is important and the details are often telling, the happiness and comfort comes in the time spent; the time spent becoming more fully aware of each person's idiosyncrasies or ways of thinking. So while our topic of conversation allowed us the insights, it was the simplicity of being together that made the evening what it was, an amazing experience of feeling loved.

Real Love-I strive to love others, even if I'm far from perfect at it.
Love isn't what happens when things are going well and life is hunky-dory. Love is what happens when we have to respond to others in the midst of our lives crumbling around us. Love is hard, flat out hard. If it seems easy, we must not be doing it right.

Jesus offered extravagant love to us, but it cost him something. Actually it cost him everything, his life. Real love comes at a cost. There is a sacrifice that must be present for true love to exist.

How Beautiful-I love how my students show me glimpses of God!
These are the moments that make teaching an amazing profession. These tender interactions with students that allow me to see the beauty of each heart. These are glimpses into God's beauty implanted in the hearts of each of us, especially the hearts of children.

Oh The Joy-I see how real God is through some of my greatest trials...
It is amazing to me how I can walk out of such wearying and trying circumstances and proclaim "Oh the Joy!" but perhaps that is the amazing work of the Lord. This is what He means when He challenges us to "consider it pure joy." I have found Jesus to be more profoundly real to me in these last months than maybe in my whole life thus far. The deeper, more troubling my circumstances the more He challenged me to draw near to Him, to become more like Him. And while I am desperately longing for a reprieve, part of me still seeks that intimacy that comes from heartache and suffering. Am I asking for those right at this moment? Not particularly. Will I shrink away from them if presented? I don't think I can, not after knowing how beautiful it is to dwell in the presence of God daily. Do we need trials to dwell in His presence? No, definitely not. But He uses our circumstances to more firmly shape our visions and understandings of His character, both good and bad. And He will continue to shape my vision through every circumstance.

Access-I long to give God access to change me, to redeem me, even my darkest fears...
"But no matter the core event that created your fault line, please hear this wonderful, incredible, life-changing good news: No matter what we've done or what's been done to us, no matter how deep our wounds or how damaged our spirits, we have a mighty God who is able to redeem our darkest moments and deepest fears. A loving Father who promises to keep watch at our points of vulnerability, to strengthen us where we're weak, to correct the lies that have led us astray, and to heal the rifts in our souls.

But only if we give Him access."
Joanna Weaver Having a Mary Spirit

Pride and Faith-I want to trust God and give Him full reign over my life...
"Let me get this straight...although I spoke the universe into existence and hung the stars in space...even though I promised to help you when you said yes to My call...and even though you've cleared your life and made time to write this book...you still keep saying you can't do it...What you're really telling Me...is that you're the omnipotent one around here. Because no matter how much I help you, no matter how willing I am to give you the words and the ability to write...you just know you'll find some way to mess it all up!"
Joanna Weaver, Having a Mary Spirit

Yep, that's about it. But it sounds so awful when you put it like that! It is pride, but really it is unbelief. And that's what it boils down to. Do I have faith enough to trust God will take care of me? Do I have faith enough to know that God will grant me time when I need it? Do I have faith enough to believe that He's called these kids to my classroom for a purpose and that He'll provide everything I need? It's about faith.

I used to think that pride was the root of all sin, and in a lot of ways the two are intricately connected. But I'm starting to realize that sin is also intertwined with unbelief. Because if we believe God is big enough to take care of things, we won't: avoid risk because of fear, speak up when faced with an opportunity to gossip, worry and strive about things outside of our control, try to take control in difficult situations. If we believe, we remove ourselves from all of these opportunities to sin.

Last week our pastor asked us if we truly trust God, if we truly trust His desire to work things together for the good. And while we initially want to respond with a resounding yes, the answer is, at least for me, not all the time. I don't act out of trust in Him, in fact many of my actions are done out of fear. I'm just being honest. So now I understand the man's prayer to Jesus in Matthew, "Lord I believe, help me in my unbelief."

Thus, with the start of a new school year I seek to believe and trust God more. He will provide. He does seek to work for my good. I need to stop protecting myself or striving about what I can't protect and just trust. I want to be a 1 Peter woman whose beauty lies in a quiet and gentle spirit, a heart without fear. May my life be humble and full of faith, not just this week, not just this year, but may this be the beginning of a lifelong journey full of trust in my Lord.

And now...
This last entry was written almost a year ago to the day. Little did I know that God was going to take me up on my request last year. He worked and is working to help me cease protecting myself, to stop striving about what I can't protect, to trust. He longs to give me a heart without fear. He was just honoring my request, and I have been ever resistant to the process.

Re-reading these words just reinforces God's love for me. He will provide, He will heal, He will redeem. I've seen it before and I'll see it again. These words also reinforce that my heart is good, and that's what matters. I need to stop striving and trust in who God made me to be. I need to remember how He has been faithful and how much I love the life God has given me, even the bumps and imperfections. I hope this post isn't arrogant, but rather reflects the deepest need of my heart--to remember who I am and the God who I so awkwardly serve.

Is one of us supposed to be a dog in this situation?

2009-07-17T11:34:00.004-07:00

Those of you who have spent any time with Herb and me know how excessively we quote movies. We can have whole conversations consisting of words that are not our own. I love this about us, but I know it is an us quirk that not everyone understands. I am just lucky that I met a man who enjoys quoting in this way because I often think in quotes. Words and phrases stick with me and constantly float through my mind, which is why I'm not surprised that my current anxiety lesson comes to me from When Harry Met Sally. This is one of my favorite movies of all time, and the quotes from this movie are endlessly applicable to numerous situations. But the quote that's been sticking with me this week is from Jess and Marie's wedding when Harry and Sally are arguing about the night they slept together. Sally is holding on to what happened and Harry is trying to convince her (albeit not well--he calls her a dog!) to let it go. Here's how the conversation plays out:

Sally: I don't see that Harry. If anyone's a dog, you are the dog. To you this is something that just happened and you think you can say great, it happened, now let's get on with it, we'll go back to the way it was like what happened didn't mean anything--

Harry: I'm not saying it didn't mean anything, I'm just saying why does it have to mean everything?

I keep replaying Harry's line over and over in my mind. The thing is, I feel like Sally, except exaggerated. I feel like each thing that happens, each thing I do, is of huge importance with the possibility for astronomical consequences. But why does each action have to mean everything? I'm bound to be anxious when I feel as though each decision or mistake has such gravity. I'm lacking perspective on the meaning of my actions. I'm not sure how to change that.

But I do know that I will continue to replay Harry's line in my mind, and hopefully it'll sink in. Hopefully I can ask myself with each passing anxiety, why does it have to mean everything? And then maybe I won't be a dog in this situation. ;-)

Chains

2009-07-15T11:19:00.004-07:00

I love how God chooses to speak to us. Sometimes He uses a trusted friend, sometimes it is through His word, sometimes it is through a book, sometimes through a song. God spoke to me in all of those methods this week reiterating one image, one theme: Chains.

The first chapter of Out of Control and Loving It starts with the following passage from Isaiah 52:

Awake, awake,
Clothe yourself in your strength, O Zion;
Clothe yourself in your beautiful garments,
O Jerusalem, the holy city;
For the uncircumcised and the unclean
Will no longer come into you.
Shake yourself from the dust, rise up,
O captive Jerusalem;
Loose yourself from the chains around your neck,
O captive daughter of Zion.

When I first began reading this book and truly began my journey through loss of control, this image didn't strike me as very powerful. The author spent two chapters dissecting this precious woman Zion who was in chains, and it was interesting but didn't grip me. Yet this week, amidst other conversations these verses keep rising to my mind. I feel absolutely captive by my fear at times, frozen and terrified to act. I feel violated by the anxiety that has decided to take up residence in my heart. I feel chained to my anxious thoughts, unable to shake them off. I can absolutely relate to the captive daughter of Zion.

I've recently been hearing the same song repeat on KLOVE, no matter what time of day I'm in the car. I love the song "East to West" by Casting Crowns, but I've loved it for reasons different than the lyrics echoing in my soul this week. This week I've been caught up in the first verse:

Here I am, Lord, and I'm drowning in your sea of forgetfulness
The chains of yesterday surround me
I yearn for peace and rest

I love the lines that follow the chains, I yearn for peace and rest. I think those are two qualities I want more than anything right now. Those two words are promised to us by God: "Come those who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest." I just want to cease striving against the chains, and yet I fight with everything I have to break free of them.

Look back at the image of Zion. God calls her to loose the chains from her neck; the power is in her hands to be freed. But it seems that she's been going about it in the wrong way. He calls her to awake, arise, clothe herself in strength and beauty, to shake off the dust. I don't think this is how we normally go about trying to break free. Think about it, we fight, we strive, we claw, we run, but at no time did we think beauty would set us free. The qualities God asks of Zion are calling us back to who He created us to be: alive, powerful, strong, beautiful, listening to the sound of His voice.

This is one of the many situations where our concept of how to fix is so vastly different from His. When our enemy approaches, we turn the other cheek. When we see our enemy hungry, we are to feed him. When we want to be exalted, we must be humbled. God's idea of how to fix is never what we imagine or intend, but it does draw us back to Him. Maybe His ideas of how to fix me aren't orthodox in my eyes, but I think we both want the same end result: freedom.

I want to be free of the chains. I want that more than anything. I want to sing the chorus of "Amazing Grace (My chains are gone)":

My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy reigns
Unending love, Amazing grace

And the chorus of "Undone":

To the cross I run
Holding high my chains undone
Now I am finally free
Free to be what I've become
Undone

I aspire to be free of my chains, to arise and awaken. I want these images painted in these last two songs to be more powerful than the images of my chains. I long to be undone. And maybe it's time to stop trying to fight my way and instead look at the unorthodox ways God calls me to. I'm not yet sure what that looks like, but I hope I eventually get to look like a beautiful daughter of Zion, no longer captive by my chains.

Bing

2009-07-12T08:18:00.002-07:00

In case you've missed the millions of commercials and ads inundating us about the new search engine Bing, it is a search engine that supposedly sorts through the crap websites for you, only returning results relevant to your search. They claim that it will enable you to find the website you are looking for without having to sort through ads or majorly irrelevant sites. To our make-everything-easier society this should be and is a very marketable product.

I, however, am completely unsettled by the idea of Bing. I find it bothersome that someone would suppose to know what I'm looking for. I find it irksome that I am not given all of the options and allowed to choose for myself. I find that this tool censors ideas based on the fact that they believe I don't want to be exposed to them. Shouldn't I make the decision about what I want to be exposed to? Shouldn't I be able to sift through the sites myself and click on those that fit my desired purpose? I feel like Bing flies in the face of my rights to free thought, my intelligence, and my goals in teaching students.

One of the key skills I try to teach students is how to look at several sources and determine which source is most helpful and relevant to what they are trying to prove. This involves looking at a list of titles or a list of websites, clicking on and reading the excerpts and then weighing the validity of the article and the relevance of the article to make an educated decision about the value of the piece. Bing tells my students that they no longer need this skill. It advocates for laziness, for not having to think for yourself. Students already believe that they can type a topic into Google, click on a few sites and have the information they need; Bing adds another layer to this. It will be easy for them to believe that because they've used Bing the source must be relevant to their topic. I sometimes feel like technology strips kids of essential skills in the belief that it is making life easier. But since when is easier always better?

One example of easier isn't better in my classroom is when I teach MLA. I get so frustrated when my students resist learning MLA citation. It is an important process to understand, and an important college-level skill. It is also an academic hoop that they need to learn to jump through, just as they will jump through hoops in any higher education or job. In their resistance to learn the process, because it's hard or cumbersome, they use a website called EasyBib. This site allows you to plug in the information and it will chug out the citation. I have a deep loathing for this site because it reflects the laziness of my students and their unwillingness to try, and it also incorrectly cites. I try to be an MLA master for this reason. I tell them up front that I can find EasyBib citations quickly and they will be penalized. My students don't believe me, use EasyBib and find lower grades as a result. This is an example of how the process is more important than the product. I want them to understand the MLA process, just as much as I want them to understand the process of discerning valid and relevant sources.

So once again I express my frustrations with technology. I am sure that the creators of Bing are well-meaning, I'm sure that they feel that our lives will be revolutionized because we will no longer be inundated with ads and filthy websites. But I'm okay with a little sifting, a thorough scan, as long as it means that my choices are not being censored and I can continue to strengthen my skills and those of my students.

The Journey

2009-07-10T22:46:00.004-07:00

As I was pondering this idea on the way home, I was convinced, convinced, that I had written this post before. It seems like such a recurrent theme that I was sure that I'd pontificated on the idea previously, but apparently I was mistaken. Or at least I couldn't find the evidence that I'd blogged about it, so if you're having a very French, déjà vu -ish sort of thing happening, you are not alone.

Life is a journey. A metaphor we are all very familiar with, but one I don't happen to like. Yes it is quite accurate, and yes we are constantly walking through life's new adventures, but I don't like traveling the road. Journeys are about destinations to me. When I travel I have the get-there-as-soon-as-possible sentiment. Quick pit stops, eat food on the go, but let's not stop and look at anything on the way. We're going where we're going, let's get there!

Traveling is inconvenient. You can't account for how much time will be spent where, you can't control the circumstances along the way, you might have to wait in traffic or make a U-turn, you may get lost. Not to mention the physical discomfort that journeys bring, anxiously waiting for the next rest stop fearing your bladder may explode before then, a numb rear end that takes at least 20 minutes of walking to regain feeling, and legs that feel as if they've forgotten how to function.

But get me to a destination and I can settle in, find all of the good bathrooms, follow the maps, use my game plan, eat at the restaurants I've picked out ahead of time...be in control.

I am taking the analogy a bit far, but I feel quite the same way about life. I often feel like I'm living from destination to destination. From weekend to weekend, from exciting event to exciting event, from dating to engagement, engagement to wedding, wedding to graduation, graduation to law school...I am not so much a fan of living in the moment, which sounds horrible. Of course I like my moments and I try my best to savor them, but a little piece of my brain is always jumping to the next thing.

Once I was explaining to a friend how I hated being engaged. She asked me why? "You only get to be a fiancée for such a short amount of time!" I had not really ever thought of that before, I just thought about how much I was looking forward to being Herb's wife. I got so caught up in what was to come that I failed to live in what was. Plus there is such a feeling of achievement to having arrived, having accomplished what I set out to do.

But the thing is, I often struggle to stop and savor the accomplishment; instead I look at what did or did not work and begin setting new goals as to how to do it better next time. I begin plotting my new destination without appreciating the one I'm currently visiting.

One of the realizations I keep having is that I am not going to arrive, at least not in this lifetime. My life will truly be a series of journeys and I'm just going to have to live with that. And I think I'm going to need to do more than just live with it, I'm going to need to cherish the journey more. The process is what matters, as does the product. They are both equally important, but if I don't take the time to acknowledge the process I'll be missing out on an important piece of the product. Because process and product can't be separated I need to learn to appreciate them both. (Very déjà vu -ish here specifically!)

So I'm going to really try to enjoy the journey, enjoy where I am in life, and stop living for what will be. Because the surrounding scenery can be beautiful if I take the time to stop and look around.

AFTERWARD: There's a reason it felt so familiar...similar post, same title, 14 months ago, with ironically similar sentiments to my life now. When such themes are so prevalent it makes me wonder if I'm even growing and changing. When I'm singing the same tune so many months later has my melody evolved at all? Not sure, but read, compare and tell me what you think:
The Journey

My hands

2009-07-08T12:32:00.002-07:00

I know this may sound bizarre, but I've always loved my hands. I like the shape and size, I like what they enable me to do. And I'm not the only person to recognize their value. Herb always tells me that he loves how soft my hands are, and many others have remarked similarly. Truly it is amazing that they are so soft because my hands are rarely at rest and are often immersed in hot, soapy water. So it is telling to me that my hands are losing their silky quality.

I noticed last week that my hands are more scaly, more wrinkly, not as smooth. And I think they have become the physical manifestation of my anxious spirit. I'm trying not to wash my hands unless there is good cause (going to the bathroom, food preparation), but I still think I'm overdoing it. I've never been an obsessive hand-washer, in fact I've mocked Herb many a time for that quality, but it's a current bi-product of my anxiety. As a result, the hands that I so cherished are beginning to crack.

I think my hands are symbolic of the goodness, the joy in my life that my anxiety is costing me. Satan is trying to use anxiety to steal the things that bring me the greatest joy and are the greatest blessing to others. Is it a coincidence that my areas of anxiety are the things that I use most to bless others, cooking, teaching, the works of my hands? I don't think so. I think Satan's trying to hinder my effectiveness, trying to stop me from blessing others, trying to hinder God's handiwork. He's trying to crack my spirit, my effectiveness, just as hand-washing has cracked my hands.

But if I've seen anything in this past year, I've seen God's ability to heal. Just like lotion will fill in the cracks in my hands, God will fill in the brokenness of my spirit. He will restore to me those things that bring me the greatest joy; I will continue to be His handiwork. His hands will heal mine.

Higher stakes and broken pedestals

2009-07-02T10:27:00.002-07:00

Yesterday was a big day for me, a big day of realizations. These realizations are difficult for me to write about because they could easily be a source of shame. But they are part of my journey, a journey I've chosen to not be ashamed of, so they find their way here to this entry.

One of my favorite topics to teach on is the loss of innocence, those key moments in life where we come to new understanding or new maturity usually through a source of pain. A common moment of lost innocence is that experience when we find that someone we've placed so high on a pedestal takes action that breaks their statuesque state. Their pedestal breaks and they come tumbling down from the lofty image we once held of them. Often this is a parental figure or a mentor or a teacher, but I am having a unique broken pedestal experience. I have tumbled from my own pedestal, on which I felt so strongly secure.

This is difficult to admit, to own up to the idea that I had such a lofty image of myself, to admit that I believed I was invincible. It is partially difficult to admit because I lecture students all of the time about the feeling of invincibility, warning them that they can't survive anything and that they must make different choices. But my invincibility was of a different sort: I naively believed that I could protect myself from the pain and consequences of life. I believed that I was strong enough to hold those hurts and stings of sin at bay. But I, of course, was wrong.

I have discovered in this journey that I am the queen of self-protection. I proactively admit sin and mistakes in attempts to protect myself from consequences, hoping that if I own them first there will be greater mercy. I do not take risks that I feel may cause me pain because I am concerned about my precious self. I do not take emotional risks often, I do not put myself into situations where I might be too vulnerable for fear of being taken advantage of. And the thing is, it worked for a while, or at least I perceived it to be working. In a sense I guarded myself from fearful, difficult and painful experiences, to an extent. I, at least, felt like I protected myself from consequences that I couldn't handle.

The problem is that now the stakes are higher. Before I could seemingly protect myself from painful consequences because I was dealing with smaller issues. If I lied, it was only about a failure to complete a homework assignment. If I didn't pay a bill on time, it barely made a dent in my meager credit score. But now these seemingly same sins have ramifications that echo on a much larger scale. If I don't pay my bill on time they could take our house. If I make a mistake a work, I could lose my job. If I don't cook food properly, people could get sick. All of the sudden (not really...I've been an adult for a long time) stakes are higher and I lack the ability to contain the consequences.

Herein lies the problem, I, the great self-protector, can no longer protect anymore. I have to deal with the fact that I am broken. I have to live with the consequences of my sin. I can't shelter or hide from mistakes. I now have to rely on God to be my protector, rely on Him to help me through (not always save me) from the consequences of my sin. I can't do it any more, my position on the pedestal has been compromised.

There's also an even bigger problem. Because I have been striving to do all of these things for myself, when I have to begin to look to God to fulfill these roles, I don't recognize them in Him. It is not that He can't meet all of these needs, because He absolutely can and more, but rather that because I have not asked them of Him before they are new to me. I am being asked to say "God I can't protect myself from the pain of sin, please be Merciful." He is merciful, but I haven't given Him the chance to exercise that quality in my life before. Thus I am being retrained to trust in a wholly different experience of the same Holy God. It is no wonder then that this is hard; it is like beginning a new exercise routine, I'm training and feeling muscles that I didn't even know were there before. They are going to get stronger, but it is going to take time.

Although I'm broken as a result of my fall from the pedestal, there is a greater peace within me. There is a freedom in not desperately attempting to protect myself, there is a calm in knowing that I am broken and that's the reality of being human. But there is a struggle as well. I have to fight the urge self-protect, to try and control consequences. Instead I have to live through them, experience them, and allow God to use them. I have to trust that God will fill in the empty roles I've left, which means I have to resist taking those roles back. I have to thwart the desire for control and concede that I don't really have any. Even though these battles will be challenging, at least I can rest in knowing that I am not alone high up on my pedestal trying desperately to ward off my enemies and the stinging arrows of sin. Instead I have fallen into the arms of a loving Father whose arms are so much stronger and more comforting than my own. And while the stakes are higher, the rewards and blessings are that much greater.

Self Actualization

2009-06-30T12:16:00.003-07:00

Recently in Bible study we've been watching a video series called "The Truth Project". This series is designed to challenge the Christian world view and hold it against the Biblical view of the world. The idea of the series is to allow us to question how much of the world we've allowed into our faith and to realign our beliefs with what is really true. If the series sounds confusing and difficult then I've accurately portrayed it.

I've been catching up on the series and today I watched the video entitled "Who is man?" This particular class called into question more of what I have accepted than any other thus far. It's interesting because I absolutely believe the tenets that he communicates as true about man: 1) Man is dual nature (sinful and Spirit-filled) 2) Man is fallen 3) Man needs to be redeemed. Check, check, check. All truths that I accept to be true. But then he discussed the world's view of man, partially through the lens of Abraham Maslow and his hierarchy of needs.

The hierarchy of needs is a much discussed and believed principle in education. The idea behind the hierarchy is that in order to educate man's mind, one must first tend to his more basic needs (food, rest, shelter). I still don't disagree with this idea, but what the teacher did call into question is the final rung of the hierarchy: self-actualization. The philosophy is that to achieve the highest stage in life one will fulfill and act on all of their wants, needs and desires. When we studied this in college, this made sense, the idea that we've gotten far enough to not let anything hold us back from what we want to be doing. And I even "Christian-ized" it: when we got to the highest stage in life we could follow what God wants us to do without questioning. Sounds good and I managed to combine my two worlds.

What I didn't know, that I learned from this series, is that Maslow was a humanist, a group who believes man is inherently good and that evil does not come from him. So when he is referring to self-actualization, the humanist's interpretation would say that it's man's ultimate state of being to serve his own needs and to do whatever he wants to make him happy. This idea of self-actualization is seemingly the foundation of American perspective. We work hard to get what we want to make us happy; we will cheat, steal and slander to get the job we want to make us happy; we will bulldoze over the feelings of others to make ourselves feel more self-important and make us happy. But truly this idea flies in the face of what God tells us about ourselves.

Our purpose is not to make ourselves happy, but it is instead to glorify God in word, action and deed. If we live our lives according to God's will, we won't be living for ourselves at all but rather we'll be living to serve others and God. It is SO not about us because if we did what we want all of the time, if we were self-actualized, then sin would run rampant and so much evil would pervade the world. Don't we see the fruits of that already? We are plagued with poverty and hunger because those who have want more. We lose new life to abortion because women don't want to have a child. It is not about our wants, our desires, because not only are those selfish, they are a reflection of our fallen selves, not our redeemed selves.

Our fallen selves, our flesh, are in opposition to our redeemed selves, our spirit. This conflict is depicted in Galatians 5, and this passage speaks directly against self-actualization.
"But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not carry out the desire of the flesh. For the flesh sets its desire against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; for these are in opposition to one another, so that you may not do the things that you please." (v. 16-17)
The first thing I notice is that the word desire is not coupled with Spirit, only with flesh, indicating that our wants are drawn from our fallen selves. Secondly these two forces are opposed to each other so that we may not do the things that we please. God provided us with our redeemed spirit so that we might not be self-actualized. Self-actualization is easy, it's natural to us, whereas being redeemed is hard work, we must go against our fallen instincts and desires.

We already knew that we live in a society opposed to Truth. It is apparent in how people speak about Christians and God. But it is easy to forget to be mindful of the subtle ways our society opposes truth. It is not necessarily in the blatant confrontations that we could be in danger, but rather in the subversive, quiet messages delivered to us as truth, that it is easy to be taken in.

I am not at all saying I wish I had not sat in the classroom, that I wish I had abstained from the experience of learning about Maslow and his hierarchy, or that I even disagree with all aspects of it, but rather I am saying that I need to be aware and vigilant. I need to hold learned truths against the Truth. I need to know the Truth so that I can do that. I need to be Truth-actualized so that I can act on the tenets of Truth rather than the desires of self.

Simple yet profound

2009-06-22T21:49:00.002-07:00

Lately I've been remembering how God speaks to us in paradox. So I shouldn't be surprised that lately He's showing me things that on the surface might be simple, but in truth can have a very profound effect on my life. In some ways I feel as if I'm learning the elementary ideas of faith. When my students get stuck I encourage them to go back to basics, to remember what their purpose is and what steps they need to achieve to get to that purpose. Maybe God is just asking me to do the same thing. I feel as if I'm speaking vaguely so let me be more concrete:

I sinned today: gossip, hurtful comments--sin that could hurt and effect others. It was a mistake, one I repented of, but sin nonetheless. I spent the next hour agonizing over the consequences of my sin. Who would it effect? How would it effect me? How could it change my life? I was praying over these questions in the car when it occurred to me that Jesus died not only to forgive my sins, but also to forgive the consequences of my sins. That was grace. He also can choose to alleviate the consequences of my sin or not based on what He desires for me to learn. That is His mercy.

I know it seems simplistic, this idea that God not only covers our sins but also the consequences of our sins, but it's something I had never really thought about before. The truth is that we are going to sin, by our nature we are imperfect. And there are consequences to sin, by sin's nature there are nasty ramifications. So Jesus did not just come to redeem us from our sin, but He also came to redeem us and heal us from the consequences of our sin. Simple yet true.

On my way home from dinner I was thinking about this idea more, and God took this simple idea and made it profound. I was convicted that my whole life, my whole rule-following, commandment-adhering life, has been designed around protecting myself from consequences. I have chosen to obey the guidelines God has set before me, not to honor Him and the sacrifice He made for me, but instead to protect myself. I have been self-seeking in my actions, hiding under the guise of piety. The motives of my heart have not been pure; instead of choosing to follow God by obeying His call on my life, I've chosen to obey God because experience has shown me that that is the more comfortable route, the safe route.

I do believe that God designed us this way, to dislike consequences, so that we will truly flee from sin. But I don't think He wanted us to hide behind rules. I don't think He gave us His word so that we could live a life of comfort, instead I think He intended His word to make us uncomfortable, convicted, life-changed. So perhaps my feeble attempts to feign perfection, or keep the consequences of my sin hidden or at bay, may be halting my uncomfortable, life-altering growth. Self-protection can't work when you are an imperfect human being. No matter how much I try, I'm going to screw up. And no matter how much I will them to disappear, consequences are the inevitable result of screw-ups. Thus instead of seeking God's guidelines, adhering to His commandments for my own sake, perhaps I should be doing it for the sake of His kingdom.

"Not to us, but to Your name be the glory."
Rule-following for the sake of self-protection is prideful, it is for my glory, my appearance and my comfort. Seeking to follow God's commandments so that others may know God and who He is, that is for His glory and it's what I should be all about.

This doesn't mean that we should go out and sin, looking for God to be glorified in the consequences. But what it does means is that when we do sin, we should repent and know that God can redeem even this. Because He's about His glory too, and even when we fall short, He stands tall. He is enough to fill in our gaps, to show Himself strong amidst our weakness. God can redeem the brokenness in us as well as in the others we hurt. He is a God who redeems; that is what the cross was all about.

I'm not exactly sure how this fits into my anxiety journey, maybe it doesn't. But I do know that God needs to be glorified and I need to do it. I need to stop exalting myself, trying to show others how good I can be, and instead I need to show others how good God can be. He will redeem my shortcomings, He will be glorified even in my broken, sin-ridden self. He needs me to be humble so that He might be glorified.

It seems so simple, obey God so that others may see and know Him. But the profound truth comes when we can see that there can be glory in the consequence, when we fail to obey--it just might not be our own.

Not enough

2009-06-19T21:19:00.002-07:00

The book Captivating by Stasi Eldredge talks about how women struggle with two major lies about their identity: women feel like they are too much and not enough. While I can definitely point to moments in my life where each of those lies felt true, currently I am viewing life through the not enough lens...

I just read this article on anxiety and it suggests that one of the best ways to overcome anxiety is have self-determination and define things positively. The article suggests that when one is feeling anxious she should define herself as a problem solver and remember specific times of success in solving problems. The problem is: I'm having a hard time remembering any...

This is ridiculous, really, you should ridicule me, because my job is problem solving. I spend each and every class day solving problems, finding solutions, creating new routes around a problem, and yet...I can't see myself as that.

I don't feel like I have enough to fight the anxiety, I don't feel like I can do enough to fix my situation. Part of my anxiety is that I can't do enough to fight germs, or I can't do enough to make my classroom safe, or I can't do enough to protect myself from bad happening. And the truth is...I don't have enough.

I am not enough, but God is. Yet it seems to me that I'm also having a hard time believing God is enough. I know He's enough, but I'm not believing He's enough. In other words, I am feeling like I don't have enough faith. More of the not enoughs...

So tonight my prayer is: "Lord, I believe. Help me in my unbelief. Help me to know that all of You is more than enough for all of me, for every thirst and every need, You satisfy me with Your love, and all I have of You is more than enough..."

Processing

2009-06-06T08:07:00.002-07:00

So I've been thinking through this anxiety thing, just processing the thoughts and behaviors, trying to discover a source or possible solutions. Honestly if anxiety ridden thoughts are planning to consume my mind, I'm going to try to consume my mind with something else. This exact thought was what got me turned toward scripture last night. I was thinking that the only way to stop thinking about something is to think about something else altogether. Then I remembered that God even told us what to think about: "Whatever is true..." But that isn't a verse I've got down pat so I went looking for it in my Bible and lo and behold, guess what that verse follows! It follows two of my favorite verses about worrying and peace! The two are coupled; to help with worry, to bring peace He asks that we think on these things. WAY COOL! Look at how the whole passage reads out, it's like a love letter to my heart right now:

"Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice!

Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near.

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.

The things you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you." Philippians 4:4-9

All of the ways to guard are hearts and minds, to generate peace, have to do with dwelling on Him and praising Him. Paul starts this passage with the command to rejoice, twice. And even a verse that I've known most of my adult life had a piece of thanksgiving I was missing. When worried we need to offer up our concerns in prayer WITH thanksgiving. There's a common trend here, praise and thanksgiving, focusing our minds on the good. These verses will be traveling with me everywhere for quite a while now.

Beyond these awesome verses I also realized something that seems simplistic but enlightened me a bit. I made a decision to take more risks in life, to stop living safely. Risks specifically equal fear in my world. So it would make much sense that after a risky life decision I would be experiencing more fear. As a woman who does not like consequences, it makes sense that fear of what might be would drive me further into worry. Simplistic, but where I am.

This will be a long healing process. Thanks for being a part of the process and the processing with me.

Full Disclosure

2009-06-04T21:45:00.002-07:00

In effort to be authentic, to be honest, which I always try to be with you all, I have to admit that I fell hard after yesterday's post. Within the last 24 hours I've had several small attacks of panic and fear. I made food for Jon and Cara and then for Mika and Melinda and both times I grew more than a little concerned about the food I prepared. I worried that I didn't wash my hands enough, I worried that germs had somehow reached the food from the counter, I worried--bottom line.

How can I worry? I've just had this epiphany and yet I worry. Apparently I am willing to trust God but not myself. I believe He is bigger, He does have good in mind. But I'm imperfect and I'm not comfortable with what that might mean. I hate the part of me that is like this.

I hate that I wash my hands a million times. I hate that I overthink my actions. I hate that I feel uncomfortable in my once comfortable kitchen. I want me back. I want the me who believed that some germs were okay. I want the me that believed that not every surface had to be cleaned endlessly. I want the me that cooked for people as an expression of love, no worries attached. That me is gone right now and I miss her.

I do believe God will work in the midst of harsh circumstances, but I'm still trying to control and protect myself and others from ever getting there. And I don't know how to stop.

The good news is that this fear hasn't stopped me from doing what I love. I'm choosing to follow my heart despite my head. But it is causing worry and fear afterwards, preventing me from enjoying my time after the fact. This isn't abundant life and it's making me sad.

I have no easy solution here. I'm praying like crazy. I'm asking for God's strength and wisdom. I'm working hard to remember and believe that God is good. The problem with fighting battlefields in the mind is that they can be persistent and unobserved. They can be relenting without any acknowledgment from the outside world. But that's why I'm writing, that's why I talk about it. If it's aloud, if I say it, perhaps it has less power. At the very least if it's in the open others can pray. Not only that, I do not want to be ashamed, I want to be honest. I don't want to fight a silent battle; loneliness can only make it worse. So let's unite against sin, against pain, against struggle. Let us not be afraid to offer full disclosure. I'm going to disclose my heart, so that I may not be afraid. Don't be afraid to disclose yours too.

He is Good

2009-06-03T12:25:00.003-07:00

The Question: "The real question is if all of those horrible things were to happen why can't you believe that God is good enough to take care of you and forgive you even then?"

How we got there: Last night I was explaining to Herb my irrational, erratic fears of late. Example, cooking food for others (something I love to do) is inspiring the fear of "what would happen if I cooked something improperly and they died as a result?" I posed this specific scenario to Herb last night, and he said "You're right that could happen" and then he posed the above question. My husband is a very wise man because that's exactly the right question, exactly the question I've been battling these lasts months. So I started praying over that question last night and...

Here's what happened: I began praying that God would help me believe what I know: that He is good no matter what. The generics were not enough to really convince me, so I began trying to think through specifics. I started to pray "If Herb and I were to lose our jobs, have no money and be homeless, You would still be good and You would still be there. If someone were to break into our house and physically hurt us both, you not only would be there in the midst, you would not leave our side as we tried to heal. If I were to somehow become responsible for hurting or killing someone (God please forbid it), You would still be good, You would still be there. I would still be forgiven." I continued to pray that God show me He is good, that He would help me in my unbelief of His goodness. Despite circumstances. Despite the world. Despite Satan's attempts to hurt, kill and destroy. Despite my own sinfulness. God is good.

While I have some control over my life, some control over my circumstances, God has ultimate control. God has ultimate authority. And no matter how hard I try, my control WILL NOT prevent horrible things befalling us. So if they will inevitably happen, if life will spin out of control, out of my control, then I have a choice. I can spend my time fearing what is to come, fearing the endless horrific possibilities, or I can trust. I can trust that I will never be alone. I can trust that the God of the whole universe who gave so much for me will still love me. I can trust that He does not change, He has been and always will be GOOD. Circumstance cannot change His faithfulness. And I can choose to not allow circumstance to change mine.

If I make my mind up ahead of time, decide that I am going to believe in the goodness of God no matter what, when circumstances befall us and trials shake my foundation, when it would be so easy to question and doubt, when it would be so hard to believe in His goodness, then I will not have a choice. I've already made the choice. It is not open to discussion because I've already decided. God is good, no matter what I am facing, so I should not fear or worry. Because no matter what happens I will not be abandoned. It may be awful and hard and I may feel like I'm drowning, but I won't be in that water alone.

The words of the Beaver in response to Lucy 's question of Aslan's safety in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe echo in my mind: "He's not safe, but He's good." If I'm not expecting safety, but instead goodness, peace becomes easier. If I believe He is good I can cease striving and rest.

Here's the answer: I must believe God is good.

This is the blessing: Peace amidst circumstance.

Revisiting

2009-05-31T15:17:00.002-07:00

I've been revisiting lately. I recently downloaded an old favorite album from iTunes: Amy Grant's The Collection. This CD was our family's first, and we played it on our Colorado road trip when I was in 5th or 6th grade in our first portable CD player. Old school, you get the picture. But it was wonderful to revisit some of my old favorite songs. Songs like Father's Eyes and All I Ever Have to Be inspire me to this day. I can still sing most of the words even though it has been years since I've heard them. My heart is revisiting the beauty and lyrics of these songs.

I have also been revisiting a topic from last summer: bravery and risk-taking. It has come to my attention yet again that I play life safe. I live within the walls set forth by rules and the restrictions laid out by fear of consequences. I think I've been falsely believing that I could protect myself from pain, from difficulty, from fill in the blank, if I lived guarded. But what I've been realizing of late is that if God has a direction for my life, if He wants to take me somewhere or teach me something, no amount of "self-protecting" will prevent God's work. If God wants to grow me and change me, hiding and holding myself back will not work. What's even more is that I might be preventing God from working by playing it safe.

It's time to stop living in fear and start taking some risks. I'm going to seek to follow God's leading even if it requires me to step outside of where I feel comfortable. I'm going to fly, which brings me back to Amy Grant. I came upon this song on The Collection album, and I think it's going to be my risk-taking theme song. So here's to revisiting an old idea, an old song, and even more, here's to flying!

I'm Gonna Fly
by Amy Grant
All my my friends are happy to stay
Here in this yard day after day
But something inside me has called me away
I don't understand but I know I can't stay

I'm gonna fly
No one knows where
But I'm gonna fly
I'm lighter than air

Cause I have felt for the first time
I can be myself
No more faces to hide behind
Just a smile and a dream that's mine
Even if I am the only one who wants to fly

I'm gonna fly
No one knows where
But I'm gonna fly
I soar thru the air

All of my life seems I've waited
For the time to start
Being the person inside of me
Unafraid of being me
No more faces to hide behind
Just a smile and a dream that's mine
Even if I'm the only one who wants to fly

If I had my life to live over again
I'd run bare foot, relax a bit more
And I'd talk to more children
And I'd learn how they laugh
And I'd teach them how I've learned to fly

I'm gonna fly
No one knows where
But I'm gonna fly
I'm lighter than air

I'm gonna fly
No one knows where
But I'm gonna fly
I soar thru the air

Cause all of my life seems I've waited
For the time to start
Being the person inside of me
Unafraid of being me
Even if I'm the only one who wants to fly...
I'm gonna fly

Expectation and Hope

2009-05-30T09:28:00.002-07:00

In general I'm a hopeful person, meaning I wait expectantly for God to work in things to come. This is a good thing. But in general I'm also an expectant person, meaning that I have expectations of things and people, and they are usually high expectations. Herb and I talk about this all of the time because he has high expectations of media (movies, music, TV shows) whereas my high expectations tend to be of people around me.

One of the topics we've discussed in Bible study often this year is the danger of high expectations. High expectations of people will often lead to disappointment and thus bitterness because people are imperfect and bound to fall short. When we expect from others we are in relationship with we put ourselves out there, vulnerable and open to a let down. But I've been growing confused on this particular area of expectation.

I'm beginning to believe that it is not about eliminating high expectations, or our expectations of others. Based on the definition of hope God asks us to wait expectantly on Him. Now I know God is perfect and thus He will not disappoint (or at least in the heavenly sense He won't disappoint--on earth we may not be able to see what He's doing at the time), but I don't wonder if God wants us to wait expectantly on others as well.

God wants us to believe in the inherent good of others, to love them imperfections and all. So wouldn't it make sense that we should believe others will come through? Shouldn't we believe that although people have fallen short in the past, they may just pull it off this time? This kind of belief in others, while hopeful, still opens us up to disappointment. I propose the difference isn't so much in what we expect from others but rather in our response to them when they are unable to follow through: grace and mercy.

Think about it, God knowing all of our flaws and even all of our outcomes, still waits expectantly for us to do the right thing. He believes in our inherent goodness (as a result of our connection to Him) and trusts that it will win through. One of the many differences between God and us is His response to our failures. When He waits expectantly and we fall short, grace and mercy step in. He gives us room to try again and He relieves the pain and consequence of our failure. I propose that this is really what He wants from us; rather than self-protecting by lowering our expectations of others, He wants us to exercise mercy and grace in disappointment. I admit, the self-protection would be much easier, but since when is God calling us to easy? This "method" stretches us in asking us to hope, to love, to offer grace, to offer mercy--sounds like a growing experience to me.

Hope is hard because it requires us to believe when there might not be much of a chance or reason to believe. It opens us up for inordinate pain when things don't happen the way we expect. But I have to believe hope is better. It requires us to live life focused on what could be, on how God has the ability to work, on the endless possibilities within man. God is our living hope and I believe hope is the best way to allow Him to "live" in us.

Nightmares

2009-05-27T07:46:00.002-07:00

My mom always says I should keep a dream journal and document the insanity that is my dreams. Last night/this morning is no exception. I woke up this morning to use the potty, which put me on bladder infection alert, always does, and thus I laid awake for about 30 minutes trying to shake fear and fall back asleep. The result of this experience was a nightmare. So here it is, dream journal entry number one:

I am watching TV with my mom and sister in the basement of some house (definitely not mine). In walks Dr. Epps from the TV show Numbers and Dr. Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds. They begin searching through the basement to analyze a cage-type work space that is full of bizarre papers with mathematical equations on them. After taking a few items "back to the lab" they leave us alone in the basement watching TV. Kevyn's fallen asleep and Mom has climbed the stairs to bed, and I'm all alone trying to watch the end of the show when a creepy man begins staring at me from the cage. He is saying something that I can't quite make out, so I try to wake Kevyn up. She rouses but doesn't see him. So she begins heading to bed and I begin running away.

I race to the bathroom looking for any possible defense against this monster, and I hear a running dialog, as if I am actually apart of the TV show. The narrator is explaining that this man has not yet decided if he wants to murder me, he is just considering the possibility. At this I begin to scramble harder to find a defense; I see myself throw deodorant and cough drops on the floor in search for the acetone. I think I can put a sprayer on it and spray his eyes until I get away. I throw the acetone in his eyes, he becomes agitated, and I flee. Apparently Reid and Epps have called the cops because sirens begin blaring and the man runs out the front door. But the sinister narrator calls out that this has started a new antagonizing serial killer and he'll be back tomorrow.

That morning at breakfast I try to explain to my mom, Kevyn and a few students who are there the terror over what might still be to come. They claim that it was just a dream, it couldn't have really happened that way, and they're sure I'm safe. As I pour OJ onto my cereal and we try to situate ourselves outside, I am not so convinced...

Scary huh? Hopefully he truly doesn't return tonight and has only stalked my dreams this once. I suppose only time and sleep will tell.

Sometimes...

2009-05-26T15:22:00.003-07:00

Sometimes I say too much. I'm not very good at holding my tongue, knowing when to stop, understanding what is appropriate to say and what is inappropriate. This often gets me in trouble. I feel anxious that I've crossed a line. I feel ashamed that I've judged or insulted someone else. I worry about how it will affect those who've heard it and the ripple effect that will result. Sometimes I say too much...

Sometimes I feel lonely, like I'm the only one in the world trying to form relationships with others. I work at building bonds with others, but often feel like a failure. I've not asked the right questions or suggested the right activities. But more often than not, people are just involved in their own world, just like me. It's not personal, but sometimes I feel lonely...

Sometimes rules must be broken. I feel often like rules will be my sanctuary, if I follow the rules I will be safe. But what a lie! Rules are man's attempt to explain our infinitely unexplainable God. Man's rules will not protect me from the uncomfortable plan God has for my life. Sometimes God is calling me to break rules, sometimes He is asking me to push boundaries. In the realm of a vast God, sometimes rules must be broken...

Sometimes I can see how God is working, and what an amazing glimpse! He tweaks my heart one way or shifts a circumstance in a new direction and there it is, the smallest glimmer of His plan. These are the moments worth holding on to, these are the times I feel most at peace. Sometimes I see God how God is working...

Sometimes words just are not enough. This one is hard for me to admit, words shape my life experiences, they define the worlds I escape into, but sometimes words cannot hold the emotions bursting from my heart. Sometimes words fail to explain the love or joy someone brings to my life. Words can barely hold the hope God fills me with. And yet I still try, try to fit these feeble words around my heart. But sometimes words just are not enough...

How is it then that sometimes I say too much and sometimes words are not enough? How can it be both? I guess sometimes life is a paradox...

New quote to love...

2009-05-20T07:14:00.001-07:00

"The assumption of spirituality is that always God is doing something before I know it. So the task is not to get God to do something I think needs to be done, but to become aware of what God is doing so that I can respond to it and participate and take delight in it." ~Eugene Peterson

May we respond to God's work, participate in His mission for us, and delight in the journey!

Spirit of Fear

2009-05-05T07:20:00.004-07:00

Recently I have been plagued by an intense spirit of fear. Things that would normally not even phase me have popped up on my radar and consumed my thoughts, energy and time. It is horrible; plague is the right word for it. This fear has left me feeling drained and broken. The thing is: I know it is not from me, it is from Satan. I've been meditating on this verse:

2 Timothy 1:7: "For God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."

Notice it is a spirit of fear, and it is not from God. And I've decided that I'm not going to let it in any more. This spirit is preying on my thoughts, waiting for the right moment to place an untruth in my mind and then repeat it so that I may dwell. The incessant dwelling helps me to then believe the lie and thus fear develops.

Fear is not how I want to spend my time and energy. Fear is not how I want to live my life. Fear WILL stop me from doing things that God wants me to do.

I always feel like Satan attacks when he begins to fear my effectiveness or God's work through me most. So it is time for Satan to be afraid. I will not be paralyzed by fear. I will move forward. Fear will no longer be my prison! I'm asking you to help me pray 2 Tim. 1:7 and the following Jill Phillips song. I can't do this by myself, but I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. So I will FEAR NOT, for God is with me!

Steel Bars by Jill Phillips
So this is how it feels at the rock bottom of despair
When the house I built comes crashing down
And this is how it feels when I know the man that I say I am
Is not the man that I am when no one's around
This is how it feels to come alive again
And start fighting back to gain control
And this is how it feels to let freedom in
And break these chains that enslave my soul

CHORUS:
I refuse to be locked up in here like a prison cell
Where all I ever get is a meal and four walls
I used to be just fine in here but not anymore
Gonna break through these steel bars

So tell me how it feels when the tables start to turn
And you find yourself at the losing end
Tell me how it feels, you're not welcome here
'Cause I'm tired of pain and I'm tired of sin

I won't let you win
I have no doubt
I don't want you in
So get out, get out

I refuse to be locked up in here like a prison cell
Where all I ever get is a meal and four walls
I used to be just fine in here but not anymore
Gonna break through these steel bars

All that can be shaken...

2009-05-04T07:10:00.003-07:00

I think I've mentioned that I'm reading this new book called Out of Control and Loving It! which is definitely a challenging title, let alone dealing with the content in the book. But it is SO good in challenging me to truly give my life over to and trust God. Today's chapter was about how God shakes us to create a stronger foundation in Him. The exact quote was this: "If you are receiving your affirmation, love, self-worth, joy, strength, and acceptance from anywhere but God, He will shake it." I can't deny this passage was written for me, that is pretty much my life in a nutshell right now. I feel like this year has been one big earthquake! From the book incident, to the first house falling through, to the lack of job for Herb, to various challenges at school, I feel like God is trying to rouse me.

First of all, up until this year, school was a place where I felt confident and where I drew much of my self-worth. I am good at teaching, kids and admin like me; it felt good to be at school. But that isn't the identity God wanted for me. He didn't want me to think I can earn my worth or create love and admiration for myself. Rather He wanted to remind me that He is my self-worth, He is the reason I can so ably teach my students. He is my source of strength, my foundation.

I already wrote about how God took the first house from us to help me see that I didn't deserve the house, but that rather it was a blessing from Him. And now He is still asking Herb and I to trust He will provide for us amply with or without the blessing of a full-time job.

God is shaking us and I'm going to be honest, it's not comfortable. It's disconcerting and many times lonely, but He is drawing us to Him, no doubt. We are in prayer more, together and apart. We are in the word more, talking about how scripture is shaping us. We are challenging one another to be more forgiving and accepting of those around us. We are asking God to provide no matter what our financial or employable status is. I am trying to give God my classroom more and more, to make it less about me and more about His work. I want the firm foundation, and if that means shaking, well, so be it. Now God, just be merciful in the earthquake, let me feel Your loving arms around me. Let me know that You have a plan and believe it whole heartedly. Let me stand on Your solid ground as You shake away the sinking sand.

Hard Work=Relaxing?

2009-04-10T21:45:00.002-07:00

A few nights ago Herb and I were praying together (I know, it's wonderful that it's a habit now!). Herb was praying for me and asked that I would take the time I now have to relax. Then he followed up with "Or as it is for Katie, if she needs to get some work done, allow her to do that to feel more relaxed." This is a man who knows me all too well! I spent today, my day off, cleaning the house, cleaning out my pantry and junk drawer and doing some laundry. There was some relaxing in there too, but mostly some good hard work. And it felt good, and I feel so relaxed right now! My husband knows me...it's a good feeling to be known.

I know it sounds crazy to most that cleaning my house is a satisfying way to spend my day off, but I just love to sit in a clean house. It makes me feel so at ease to look around and realize that I am that much further from cleaning my house again. Somehow it gives me the feeling that there is more relaxing in my future than hard work.

Herb laughs at me because I claim that I'd rather do work now so I can rest later. His response "But you never relax later!" We joke, but of course there's often truth in the humor. But today I did relax later. I am currently sitting on my couch enjoying the D-backs win against the Dodgers, after having lost to Herb at Scrabble. I found relaxation in my hard work, at least for the day.

So as paradoxical as it may seem, hard work equals relaxing for me.

I know the plans I have for you...

2009-04-06T07:11:00.002-07:00

Last night at church there was an opportunity to take our burdens, our sins, our secrets and nail them to the cross, much as you might expect from an Easter week service. As I sat down to write, knowing exactly the burden I wanted to relinquish, God placed a very different version of my burden on my heart. And all of the sudden I was writing: I don't truly believe you have good in mind for me.

What a harsh realization! I know my God and I know His goodness, but I do not believe truly that it is intended for me, especially when it comes to where my life goes from here. The cool part, I wrote down that untruth and nailed it to the cross to be erased by His precious blood shed for me.

The story gets cooler: Herb and I are driving home discussing the service and I tell Him my revelation. God showed Herb a very similar truth, he doesn't truly believe God has a place for him in the work world. We both agreed that we should be praying over one another for this specific area. Cool enough for one day, right?

God is so much bigger...I was getting ready for bed thinking about praying over Herb when it dawned on me: every night I spend 8 minutes doing neck exercises and Herb hangs out with me; why not spend that 8 minutes praying?! Praying together isn't something we do often, but it's something we desire to do. So last night we started praying together!

Yet there's more! This morning I got up to read my devotional and part of the chapter was about believing in the good God has set before you. Specifically it called upon Jeremiah 29:11 "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" How, after this last 24 hours, can I not believe this is true? How, after God so perfectly spoke to me and to Herb so clearly, can I not begin to pray over and trust in His future? It may not be the future I envision, but it will be "exceedingly beyond all I can ask or think" (Ephesians 3:20), which is more than enough for me!

Eggplant debacle

2009-03-30T07:19:00.002-07:00

I think that the picture speaks for itself, but if it doesn't, feel free to ask away. The answer is boring...I was too tired to be cooking at my normal thinking level!

Don't you just hate it sometimes!

2009-03-24T07:31:00.003-07:00

Yesterday God and I had a little argument in the car. I had just been berated and belittled by a parent via phone, and I was crying brokenheartedly when God reminded me:

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

This is the verse I had been meditating on yesterday morning. My comments to God went something like this: "Just because you place a verse on my heart less than 12 hours ago, doesn't mean you have to give me a chance to live it out right away!"

And God just chuckled, "Of course it does."

Don't you just hate it sometimes when God immediately provides an opportunity for you to live out His word immediately! Guess He has to hit me while it's still fresh in my mind, forgetful as I am. Needless to say I'm trying to delight in weaknesses and insults and trying not to dwell on the untruths that so want to penetrate my heart.

Independent?

2009-03-23T07:19:00.002-07:00

So I'm posting, try not to die of shock! It won't be a long post because I have to get back to the school grind, but I thought I'd share this interesting revelation I've been mulling over for the last week and a half.

When Lori and I met a few weeks ago, we were talking about helplessness, and how it is a frowned upon attribute in our society, but a coveted attribute in our walk with God. It then hit me...

In our society, as we age and grow the goal is to become more independent. Parents try to train their kids so that they can eventually leave and survive on their own. But this is counter to what God asks of us. As we grow more in our relationship with God, our goal, or rather His goal for us, is to recognize our dependence on Him.

It is so hard for us to admit we are helpless, incapable, that we are in need of guidance, but that is the exact humility God is asking of us. So one of my new goals is to admit I need help. I want to become more dependent on the Maker, be more honest about my brokenness and short comings. Scary goal? Absolutely! Freeing decision? Absolutely!

Irresponsible Passion

2009-02-09T08:48:00.002-07:00

It's time for me to report on the new book I'm reading. You know how I roll. I read a new book, find some amazing passages and feel compelled to share them. I am currently reading Dangerous Wonder by Michael Yaconelli, a book about having a childlike faith. There are times that it's challenged my ideas, challenged my perception of God, but this morning the truth resonated. Two quotes invaded my heart and mind and have left me seeking an irresponsible passion, not unlike the passion God has for us. The first quote led the chapter:

"I'm discovering that a spiritual journey is a lot like a poem. You don't merely recite a poem or analyze it intellectually. You dance it, sing it, cry it, feel it on your skin and in your bones. You move with it and feel its caress. It falls on you like a teardrop or wraps around you like a smile. It lives in the heart and the body as well as the spirit and the head." Sue Monk Kidd

This resonates with the English teacher in me. I don't just want kids to be able to analyze poetry, literature, words, but instead internalize them, allow the words to become a part of who they are. What an awesome representation of that!

The second passage is a story. Read through it, try to let go of the rule-following, law-abiding portions of yourself and see the beauty of the gift this little boy is giving:

"A young father, a typical type-A personality, followed the same routine every workday. He would arrive home around 5:30 P.M., park the car in the garage, walk out to the driveway with briefcase in hand, pick up the newspaper, proceed to the front door, enter the house, place the briefcase in the hallway, put the newspaper on the couch in the living room, then walk down the long hallway to the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, he would open the cupboard, take out a glass, and place it on the counter. He would then open the refrigerator, reach for the carton of milk, walk over to the glass, our the glass full of milk, and return the milk to the refrigerator. Without thinking, he would pick up the glass of cold milk, grab a cookie from the cookie jar on the counter, and walk to the living room where he would sit down, power up the television with the remote, watch the news while drinking his milk and eating his cookie, sometimes stopping during commercials to browse through the newspaper. His routine had been the same for many years, and, unbeknownst to him, his three-year-old son had noticed.

One night the father came home from work and began his usual routine. As he stepped into the hallway, setting his briefcase and newspaper down, he looked up to see his son standing down the hall, a smile on his face, obviously anticipating his father's return. Dad knew something was up, so he stopped and watched his son turn around and head for the kitchen. Pleasantly surprised, the dad crept to the edge of the kitchen to see what his son was up to. The little boy ran to the corner of the kitchen, pulled out the bottom drawer (which he was not supposed to do), stepped on the drawer, climbed onto the counter (which he was not supposed to do), reached into the cupboard, and pulled on a glass, knocking the other glasses over. Thankfully, none of them broke. With glass in hand, the little boy scooted back down onto the drawer, then to the floor, and ran over to the cookie jar. He reached up as high as he could and, barely grasping the jar, knocked it over and spilled cookies all over the floor. Oblivious to his father, he scooped all the cookies up and put them back on the counter, except for one. He picked up the remaining cookie, ran over to the refrigerator door, and reached inside and grabbed the plastic half-gallon container of milk. Awfully heavy for a three-year-old, it promptly fell to the floor, which knocked the top off and spilled a little milk all over the floor. Any other evening the father would have yelled at his son by this time, pointing out the terrible mess he was making. Instead, he sensed something much more important was happening here; he patiently waited as the little boy picked up the cookie and the glass of milk and came running to him with a huge smile on his face. The dad threw his arms around his son and said, 'Thank you, Son!' Dad realized his son was giving him a wonderful gift."

Isn't that beautiful!? How precious and reckless true passion and love can be! It isn't always neat and orderly. There won't always be tidy bows wrapped around our passionate actions. Sometimes in the most wildly abandoned moments we find the truest joy, the most beautiful of life's treasures. I want to embrace life, to pour glasses of milk and spill cookies in attempts to show others how loved they are! May my love for others and for God be a passionate mess, and may I be less concerned about the trail of cookies left behind in my wake.

Centennial

2009-01-16T08:39:00.003-07:00

That's right! This is post number 100 for me! I can't believe I've had something uninteresting or interesting to say 100 times! I was waiting for something eventful or poignant to fill this 100th post, but I decided that that was not my real motivation for the blog. The blog was designed for me to share my life with the world; not just the intriguing parts of my life, but my life, blemishes and all. Thus I'll use this post to address what blogging has meant to me.

I heard it once said that the best part of friendship is that we have the opportunity to bear witness to one another's life. I love this! I love stories, I love to know what is going on in other people's world. I love to tell stories, read stories, live stories, watch stories. Storytelling is a most important art in my world. In fact I have a wall hanging that reads "Home is where your story begins." How very me! So this blog has been a way for me to share my stories with the world, perhaps even the beginnings of the my novel-to-be. Thank you readers for delving into my world of stories!

This blog has also served as a form of prayer. It is here I've born witness to the ways in which God has worked in my life. It is here I have cried out for wisdom, peace, guidance. It is here that I've cataloged my spiritual journey. Thank you for praying with me and for me!

It is here that I've processed life. If you weren't aware, I'm an external processor. Everything I'm thinking about or struggling with has to be talked through. Even before I wrote my essays in college I had to explain what I was going to say to my mom or husband. Blogging has been a sounding board for my thoughts, a place to vent or think through the events of my world. Thank you for letting me process with you!

I guess I just want to thank you for taking this journey with me, for listening to the ramblings of this English teacher. Here's to another one hundred more!

Home sweet home

2009-01-04T15:01:00.010-07:00

I know this is the long awaited post. It seems like an eternity ago that I posted pictures from our first night in the house. Since then there's been painting, packing, moving, unpacking, organizing, and finally the feeling of settled! I'm so happy to feel settled before starting school tomorrow; I can't imagine trying to teach and still deal with the house. Of course there's now tons more space to clean, but we're so happy to be home. SO I'll post all of the before pictures (with the original owner's stuff in it and sans paint) and the after pictures (taken with all of our stuff and paint colors filling the house.) The after pictures were taken today and also include me with my newly cut hair. I donated to locks of love yesterday in memory of Aunt Kelly. I think she'd like the hair and the house. :-)

So here we go! Before:

Sorry they aren't in order (blogger hates me today!) The following are pictures of the painting crew and the house after moving. Enjoy!

The last two are from earlier on in the house buying process, but they give a pretty good view of the front of the house. Suffice it to say, we are SO excited to have each of you over. I can't wait to cook for you in my new kitchen and Herb can't wait to play Wii with you in the living room! We hope you enjoy our home as much as we do!

Anticipation and Faithfulness

2008-12-29T21:13:00.002-07:00

At church last night Pastor Bryan asked us to think about the theme of our lives for 2008. After brief ponderings I came up with anticipation. Anticipation of Herb graduating, anticipation for Herb's bar results, anticipation in getting a house. The waiting is how I initially characterized my year.

But then before communion Bryan prompted us to think about how God worked in our lives in 2008. So I began to scrutinize the details of our year more closely. Here's what I came up with:

Last winter began the long haul for Herb to complete his thesis paper for graduation. Not only was he challenged to find enough research, but in the final weeks he was asked to write a second paper. We questioned and feared that he might not graduate, but he did. The Lord was faithful to walk us through the anxiety and fears of those papers and left us joyfully tearful for huge accomplishments in May.

June began the push for the bar exam. Hours of studying, practice exams full of frustration, wondering if enough time was being invested. No surety in the results of the exam. July came and went, and with prayers and much waiting October arrived with a passing score. God was faithful to walk beside us as we waited on His timing and His results.

August found me heart broken in my classroom. The book was pulled, my teaching methods and ideas were questioned, and my students were torn apart. I lost faith in myself, I wondered if I truly was called to teaching, and I pondered where I belonged. By November I was sitting in Borders Books listening to my students speak so profoundly about the book and other novels, and like a proud mama I basked in how God is faithful to make all things good.

November also brought crumbling dreams of our first bid on a house. The home we initially hoped for fell through the cracks. Heartbreak and questioning ensued again. Couldn't one thing go right? But oh how our Father was faithful to place the perfect home in our laps! How beautiful His blessing and how covered in love this home is, just in time for the holidays!

In the midst of communion last night I realized that the theme for this year may have been anticipation on my human end of things, but God's theme for my year was His faithfulness. I am constantly drawn to this characteristic of God, it's an attribute I love and adore often. Yet the wonder and beauty of His faithfulness is new every morning, every year, especially this year. And I realized that it's more than His faithfulness I see as beautiful. Each of the hardships, though seemingly ugly in the midst, created such beautiful, awe-inspiring moments in my life this year. If I didn't have to live through the brokenness, would I have fully seen the joy? If these blessings had been easily granted to me, would I have seen them as the rich blessings they are? If the journey was a straight path, would I fully see and appreciate my steady, unchanging, faithful God leading me? Probably not. 2008 was full of heart ache and joy, waiting and unveiling, questioning and faith, but it was also always full of a faithful God.

Fatal Mistakes

2008-12-23T09:07:00.002-07:00

Yesterday I found out that one of my former students died in a motorcycle accident Friday night. He was speeding and rear ended a car so hard that his helmet flew off. It is interesting to me that in the face of this senseless death, I searched and searched for more information, more details. Why do we do that? Will it somehow bring us more peace to understand more completely, to visualize more fully? Perhaps I believed I could understand the why better if I searched just a bit harder.

I know that I won't know the answer to the why. In general I find that I am okay with that, that I can trust that the Lord has a bigger plan. But trusting the Lord's plan is certainly harder when dealing with the death of someone so young. My student was 18 years old; he had just graduated last spring. His plan was to join the coast guard; he was a great swimmer and served as a lifeguard multiple summers in a row. There were plans in place, although there always are; whether the death occurs before birth or in old age, we are always thinking about tomorrow. Perhaps it is more than the plans, it is the idea of the life not lived. I do know that my student tried to live life fully in the best way adolescents know how. The motorcycle was an attempt to embrace life, but adolescents do not know how to walk that fine line between embracing life and being reckless. It is one of the hardest parts of being a high school teacher, and I'm sure a parent of teenagers as well. We give them knowledge, wisdom, and then we have to stand by and watch them make mistakes. Watch as they throw out our wisdom or embrace it. It is trying to observe, but if they don't make their own mistakes how will they learn? It is a constant prayer that their mistakes will be meaningful but not too harmful.

Now I find myself praying more diligently for those students grieving his loss because they are still at the age where they aren't going to learn from his mistake. Those students still have to make their own. What a tiny glimpse of what God must feel as He watches us make the same mistakes we've watched others make. It is painful to love others and not intervene. Free will comes at such a high cost. But He loves us enough to give it in hopes that we will grow into amazing people who will extend love and wisdom to others and to Him.

There's really no conclusion to this post, just a sadness. I am grateful for the blessings bestowed on me; I am cherishing each moment; I am praying for those who are hurting; I am praying for students to come. May we love much and may we never fail to show it when given the opportunity.

Pizza and Sparkling Cider

2008-12-18T07:13:00.010-07:00

Last night Herb and I met at our new house, now officially ours, and ate pizza and drank sparkling cider on the floor. The house is mostly unfurnished (except for an amazing entertainment center the previous owners left for us) and we plopped ourselves down in the living room. We spent most of the night walking around the house trying to plot out what would go where and imagining our new lives together in the home. Herb prayed and blessed this amazing gift God has given us, and we just relished the idea that we have a place, our place, all our own! What a precious time to spend just the two of us on the first night as home owners! Enjoy these pictures that mark this momentous occasion in our lives together!

The picture Herb took!

The picture I took :-)

Herb's house warming gift!

Herb lounging. That's how you know it's home!

Have you seen me?

2008-12-14T09:15:00.002-07:00

No? Me neither. This month has resulted in my disappearance. The combination of sickness, Christmas, the end of the semester and moving has caused me to fade away. I feel badly that I am not the same level of available to people that I normally am (which is limited in the first place), but I just can't seem to float to the surface. The only person who has really seen me is Herb, which has actually been a nice opportunity for us. We have shopped together, packed together and been sick together. While that has sometimes resulted in frustration or annoyance it's mostly been a wonderful time of working together.

I have been so blessed and in awe of the way in which Herb has handled the house details. Without prompting he has taken care of details that I didn't even think of. He's called and set up utilities and insurance, arranged meetings with the realtor and the title agency, and he's handled the loan questions. I have really seen his strengths come out, his ability to manage money and understand the processes necessary for success, which has been such an amazing gift. If I had to think of and deal with these details, who knows what would have gone undone! Praise God for my amazing husband!

My hope is that once we have moved into our house, we will have the place and time to open up our lives again to others, to resurface from the craziness. I look forward to that time! Until then...I'm still here, even if I'm hard to find. I'll post pictures of my crazy life after next weekend. Hopefully you'll be able to find me in a painted house!

Homeowners!

2008-11-16T16:23:00.003-07:00

Herb and I went house hunting again yesterday. While I was anxious about trying to find a different house, one that would rival the original house, I was excited to hopefully find a place we could call home. We looked at a house right next door to Mark and Rachael and LOVED it! It was three bedroom and very spacious with a fireplace. Herb and I were pretty convinced this was the place, but we decided to keep looking since our Realtor had made appointments in other locations.

After cruising through a few others, we found a beautiful home at Houghton and Valencia. It is four bedroom, similar footage to the one next to Mark and Rachael, and had an adorable family-friendly back yard. This house would include all of the appliances, the security system, and the swing set in the backyard. We were torn because we loved it equally with the first house. We spent lunch and the rest of the afternoon deliberating, went back to the house near Mark and Rachael, and finally decided to put an offer on the Vail house.

This morning we signed the offer papers; it is owned by very stable sellers, no short sale to be told, so we expected to hear by tomorrow afternoon. Two hours ago we received a phone call. They countered for a little more than we offered, but much within our price range, in fact the same we were hoping to pay for our original house! Plus, we don't have to buy the appliances as we would have had to with the original house! So we accepted it! We will soon be homeowners, saving any big problems! We will close December 17th and be "home" in time for Christmas! Or at least painting in time for Christmas! I'm so excited! I love it and the home is beautiful! If you'd like to check out pictures head to:

http://tarmls.com/
Click on Public Search
Listing number: 20836190

There are tons of pictures! Check them out, tell me what you think, and tell me if you have any decorating or paint color ideas! You know I need the help! Thanks for your love and support through this whole process! We'll impose on you just a little longer to help us paint and move in! Can't wait!

One of those songs...

2008-11-11T20:47:00.002-07:00

You know how there are those songs that just uplift your spirit, quiet your heart? The words impact you in a powerful way and change your perspective on life, even if just for that moment? My senior year in high school that song was "Move or Move Me" by FFH. The cry out to God just fit my circumstance, my need in that moment. To this day I still get chills upon hearing that song.

I have a new "one of those songs." I've heard it three times in the last two days and it has spoken into my discouragement and centered my heart on the truth of who God is and who I am in Him. Sometimes I can learn new things by listening to these songs that others point out, understand where they are without them ever having to put their emotions into words. I thought maybe I'd offer the same opportunity to you all tonight. So here is my song:

Addison Road - Hope Now
From the album Addison Road

If everything comes down to love
Then just what am I afraid of?
When I call out your name
Something inside awakes in my soul
How quickly I forget I'm yours

I'm not my own
I've been carried by you
All my life

Chorus:
Everything rides on hope now
Everything rides on faith somehow
When the world has broken me down
Your love sets me free

When my life is like a storm
Rising waters, all I want is the shore
You say I'll be ok
And make it through the rain
You are my shelter from the storm

I'm not my own
I've been carried by you
All my life

Chorus:

You've become my heart's desire
And I will sing your praises higher
Cause your love sets me free
Your love sets me free
Your love sets me free

Grace and Mercy

2008-11-10T06:54:00.002-07:00

Remember that old Newsboys song: "When you get what you don't deserve, it's a real good thing, a real good thing. When you don't get what you deserve, it's a real good thing, a real good thing"?

Last week was a practice in the art of grace and mercy for me. God was gracious and merciful to me, but even more than that I learned something about being "deserving." I like the American philosophy, it jives very well with my personality. If you work hard, you will reap the benefits. If you are patient and do the right thing, you will be rewarded. I think I've said before that I'm very driven by rewards. If I do something ahead of time, I'm rewarded with time off later. If I invest time in my relationships, I'm rewarded with strong friendships. For the most part I like my cause and effect statements, but I had a hard lesson in realizing that this isn't always how God works. The thing is when it comes to God, there's no entitlement. We don't "deserve" anything but the consequences of our sins. And by His grace, we don't get what we "deserve." My spirit is learning all of this the hard way these days. Let me explain with some examples from last week:

When we get what we don't deserve...that's how I feel about Obama being elected. I'm not sure that he deserves the title of President. I believe it is by the grace of the American people that he is where he is. I thought that my prayers for this election would be enough for me to "deserve" McCain as President. I thought that Aunt Kelly "deserved" a win for her "team" in honor of her memory. But that's not how it happened...hopefully the American public won't get what it "deserves" by electing Obama. God is sovereign after all.

When we get what we don't deserve...I was blessed with an amazing experience at Borders last Wednesday, one I didn't "deserve". Some of my students, current and former, along with staff, family and friends came to Borders to hear a brilliant man speak about the book Another Country. Not only did the speaker reveal the glorious history of this book (it was challenged by the President and reviewed by the FBI in 1962 when it was a national best seller--they deemed it of literary merit!), but he engaged the audience in a discussion of the novel. My students spoke with such confidence and poise about their thoughts on the characters, setting, plot, and symbolism; I have never been filled with such joy and so humbled by the students God graciously allows me to teach. I'm not sure I "deserved" that moment, but I was grateful for it nonetheless.

When we don't get what we deserve...we found out Thursday that we didn't get the house. After seven weeks of waiting and dreaming about our life in that house, we were told that the lender counter-offered with $35,000 more than the listing price that we placed as an offer. I am not sure what the logic was or how they thought we would pay that much more than we had originally planned, but I know that it left me brokenhearted. I feel defeated, disheartened and lost. As I was arguing with God last night (He is amazing because He lets me do just that), I told Him that I'd put Herb through law school, I'd waited to start my family, I'd worked in a job that was very demanding, I'd loved on the people around me, I'd served at church, I'd sought to grow as a believer, didn't I deserve this little piece of happiness? To which He calmly answered, No. This doesn't mean that He doesn't want good for me or that the plans He has for me aren't amazing, BUT those things won't come because I "deserve" them. I can't earn them. I can't stake claim to them because God gives and takes away according to His good plan, not because of the things I've done to earn them. That's a hard pill to swallow because it is so counter to my affinity for the American philosophy, but then again, I'm very thankful that he doesn't give me what I "deserve." Because the wages of sin is death and I'm pretty jazzed that I didn't get what I earned there. I can't have it both ways. I either get what I "deserve", what I've earned, or I don't. I don't "deserve" a house, but I believe that God will give me what I don't "deserve" in His own good time. I believe that's called hope.

Finally, when we get what we don't deserve...my momma loves me and gave me a little spending money to enjoy while in Disneyland this weekend. I'm not good at spending money on myself, it's an art I'm glad I haven't mastered. But I did well this weekend, I took the gift given to me and enjoyed it. Not only did we find joy at the happiest place on earth, but I left with some fun Christmas souvenirs. I bought myself , or rather Mom bought me, some Christmas serving platters for my Christmas goodies and a Christmas throw blanket for me to snuggle under during these next few cold months. These were blessings to me, things I didn't "deserve," but I was thankful for them nonetheless.

I've learned these past weeks that grace and mercy aren't cut and dry. They aren't as straightforward as the Newsboys touted. But that is the nature of God. He is complex and mysterious, gracious and merciful, beyond my human comprehension. I will not pretend to understand fully now, but I will consider myself blessed when He offers me what I don't "deserve."

What do you do with a Juicy suit?

2008-11-02T08:26:00.000-07:00

If you're a Scottsdale girl, a Juicy suit is the thing for you. You can trounce around town in a $150 work out suit and still feel that you are adhering to the fashionable, couture thing. If you are me and shop and Kohl's and Target for your clothes, the purposing of such a thing becomes a little harder to come by.

First of all, any article of clothing that requires me to go without underwear becomes very low on my list of attire to don. Secondly, I have a hard time wearing something that draws attention to my rear end; it sticks out enough thank you! So when my mom so lovingly gave me a Juicy suit last Christmas because she wanted me to feel included with my sister, and I think more importantly, because she found it on clearance (my kind of mom!), I was left with one question: What do I do with a Juicy suit?

Luckily I purposed this attire on Friday night. Halloween arrived and with it the need for a costume. I had given no thought to this whatsoever, and thus was wondering if we could even attend a party that night. At work I mentioned that Herb could be a football player, and I could be a baseball player, when one of my co-workers interrupted. "One year my boyfriend and I didn't know what to be, so he threw on one of his football jersey and I teased my hair, put on a ton of make-up and wore a huge fake diamond ring. I went as his trophy wife!" Brilliant! I loved the idea! And what attire is more fitting a trophy wife than a Juicy suit! So Herb went as Jake Plummer and I went as his trophy wife. I embraced the trashy: chewing gum obnoxiously, making stupid jokes, donning my blue tooth around the house, and flaunting my ring and my thing! It was quite an enjoyable costume if you ask me.

I thought you all might relish some pictures of my Juicy suit's debut in Katie's world! Try not to laugh too hard.

A New Discovery

2008-11-01T09:08:00.001-07:00

I've heard over and over again about the Love Languages and how understanding your Love Language is key to successful relationships. I couldn't agree more that it is so important to know how to love the people around you, rather to know how they experience love. My problem is that I have always felt like all of them applied to me but none of them fit exactly right. I do feel loved when someone does something nice for me, but it doesn't overflow me with emotion. I love getting an encouraging email from a friend, but it's not a "wow, in this moment I feel loved!" response. Gifts are great and I LOVE when they are thoughtful, but again, not quite it. I do love a good hug, but still just not right. The same goes for spending time with people, although I think this is probably the closest one I can find that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. So you see, I have for some time been in a bit of a quandary about how exactly it is that I experience love. That is until last night when I had a new discovery:

Information is my love language. Let me explain because I know it sounds REALLY weird, but hopefully it will make sense when I'm done.

Last night we attended a party where the hosts announced that they are pregnant (yay Cara and Jon), but almost instantly after I found out, I felt the need to call my good friend who wasn't there because we'd been discussing our theories about this in earlier weeks. It sounds gossipy, but it really wasn't. If she'd have been there, she would've found out that same way. As I called her and we gushed about our excitement, she thanked me for calling. And my response was "No problem, if you had been there I would've wanted someone to let me know." This response started me thinking:

*Although it's in the past, a friend told me she was pregnant along with the group instead of individually, which at the time was so sad for me. I didn't feel individually included in her exciting information.

*Earlier in the day I had a conversation with Melinda about her appointment with the midwife. I said "Give me all the information. I want to know everything!"

*I got off of the phone Thursday night and recounted my conversation to Herb. I asked him if he cared about my ramblings, to which he replied no, but he listens anyway because he knows I want to share it. He knows I need to tell my stories.

*I show my love for others by telling stories about myself, including details and making sure they are in the know in my life.

*I feel SO loved when people remember details about me that I've said in the past or when the check up on concerns I've expressed before.

*I had a situation at work yesterday where I was so angry and hurt because I was left out of an important information loop.

*Throughout the whole book nonsense, I was hurt because I didn't know what my administrators' were thinking and doing.

*I long to talk to people for hours, to hear stories about their lives. Their words, no matter how trivial, make me feel loved.

*Books have the ability to make me feel warm and fuzzy, especially when I feel the author has shared a piece of himself with me.

Information is my love language. Hopefully you don't take this to think I'm a gossip because I hope not to be. I don't want to know what you know about others, I want to know what you know about yourself. Tell me your thoughts on the world and what you've learned through your experiences and I will feel so incredibly loved. Let me tell my stories and I feel at ease in your presence. It's not about "knowledge making arrogant", it is about you letting me into your world. It makes me feel wanted to know that you desire me to be a part of your experiences. Perhaps it's that it makes me feel included. I haven't quite dissected all of the implications of this new discovery, but I'm quite confident that I have hit the nail on the head here.

So if I'm rambling on and on, try to listen--I'll feel SO loved. If I ask you annoying questions that are seemingly endless, know that it's not because I'm being nosy, I'm trying to love you, the Katie way.

Book Talk

2008-10-30T11:00:00.001-07:00

For all of those interested in hearing a book talk on the book from this year's classroom drama, Borders books at Broadway and Wilmot (in Park Place Mall) will be hosting a PhD to speak on James Baldwin and Another Country. This book talk will take place next Wednesday evening, November 5th, at 7 pm. While there is no connection to my situation, I am excited to hear the thoughts of a literary scholar on this novel. I'll be there and hopefully those who are interested about hearing the literary merits of this novel will join me. It should be a nerdy good time. :-)

10 Things...

2008-10-30T08:10:00.000-07:00

...you may not know about me:

1) I like to do things right the first time so I don't have to do them again.

2) I only brush my teeth once a day because my husband says we can become immune to toothpaste.

3) I cried when we traded some of my favorite players away from the Diamondbacks.

4) I can sleep for long periods of time at night, but naps are really out of the question.

5) I like to clean as I cook. I hate leaving a bigger mess for me to clean up at the end of the meal.

6) My greatest fear is that I will be abandoned.

7) I detest running errands alone--I would much prefer to drag someone with me through my misery.

8) I freak out anytime I'm a passenger in the car with someone who waits until the last minute to put on the brakes.

9) I have to clean and organize my classroom and desk everyday before I leave. It gives me a sense of sanity.

10) I am physically incapable of "speed reading". I have to take in all of the words and nuances of a book--there's no other way for me to appreciate it.

Smarts?

2008-10-29T07:11:00.000-07:00

I've been feeling lately like I have very little to offer my students. I feel very much like they don't respect me because they think they're smarter than me and have no need for my knowledge. I have never worked with honors kids before and have not really faced this kind of problem. And it is a problem. If my students believe they don't need me or that I'm not teaching them anything than how will they grow? They won't. And how do they learn in class? They don't.

I have a friend who says she spends the first quarter of Freshman Honors English breaking kids' egos down, and I didn't quite understand what she meant until now. I have no idea how to do this. It's generally not how I teach. The whole situation has left me confused and discouraged. Until this morning...

I woke up to find an email from my mom speaking my language, movie quotes. She found the conversation between Robin Williams and Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting and sent it to me. The conversation deals with some of the very same struggles I'm having and just really encouraged me. I'm by no means as experienced as Robin Williams, a man of 50 years, but I have lived more life than my students. There is a reason they've hired me and trust me with these kids in my classroom. Not to mention that I hope what I have to offer these kids is more than knowledge. More than the ability to "analyze literature." I hope I offer these kids love and grace and an opportunity to know more about themselves and others. I could keep trying to explain the logic, but I'd rather the quotes just speak for themselves. So here goes (warning: there is explicit language below):

Sean: I thought about what you said to me the other day, about my painting. I stayed up half the night thinking about it. Something occurred to me. I fell into a deep peaceful sleep. I haven't thought about you since. Do you know what occurred to me? You're just a kid. You don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about.

Sean: So, if I asked you about art you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michaelangelo, you know allot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the Pope, sexual orientation, the whole works, right? But I bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there, and looked at that beautiful ceiling.

Sean: If I ask you about women. You would probably give me a syllabus of your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. If I was to ask you about war you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right? Once more into the breech dear friends. But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, and watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help.

Sean: Personally, I don't give shit about all that. Because you know what? I can't learn anything from you I can't read in some fucking book. Unless you want to talk about you. Who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that, do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Your move chief.

Failure

2008-10-27T07:06:00.000-07:00

"He who has never failed somewhere, that man cannot be great. Failure is the test of greatness." ~Herman Melville

How profound! Without failure, how can we know success? How can we learn? How can we be encouraged by others? by God? One of my greatest frustrations with students is their paralyzing fear of failure. They will not raise their hands, venture an answer, try something new, for fear of failure. Somewhere along the way our school system, or their parents, or both have taught them that school is about getting the A. Learning is a secondary result, and getting the A definitely doesn't involve failure. I resorted to not calling it failure because that's what F stands for, right? I call it any other euphemism I can think of--attempted success, risk, courage, stumble, areas of growth--but nothing can shake the stigma they feel with trying and finding themselves unsuccessful.

I've tried to model this in the classroom. Own up to ideas that I thought would work and fell flat on their face. Or making a mistake, owning up to it with the promise to do it better next time. But what I've realized is that I'm not that much better. In general I'm not afraid to take risks in the classroom, but I think it's because I believe I'll still be loved and cared for if I fall flat on my face. I hope I create that same environment for kids, but I'm not sure that's enough to untrain them. This year, however, I do not feel like my failures are met with laughter and gentleness. The AP and honors kids are a much harsher crowd with higher expectations. This isn't true of all of them, but the general feeling I get from these kids is that failure is not an option. It is a mantra they live by, and thus it is a standard they hold me to as well.

I realized this weekend that I have been walking on eggshells, living in that fear of failure and shame in front of these kids. In the times I've tried to own mistakes I feel glared down or not smart enough to offer them education. In fairness, I've allowed them to have that power over me. I've given them the chance to glare at my failures and imperfections instead of creating a space where failure is growth. I've decided that this ends right now. I will continue to own my failures and imperfections, it's part of who I am. I can't live in hiding, and I can't teach in hiding. If I'm going to learn as a teacher, and if they are going to grow as students, then we are all going to embrace the falling, the scraping of our knees and the wiping ourselves off and getting back up again. We're going to do it together, and I'm going to drag them kicking and screaming. We are going to accept our failures and move forward. That's how greatness happens, for all of us.

Say 8 or rather Say Chest Pain

2008-10-25T09:04:00.000-07:00

"Say 8" is one of the many jokes from Brian Regan's bit about going to the emergency room that kept me company in my own journey to the emergency room yesterday. Yes, you read that right. I spent 5.5 hours in the emergency room yesterday because I started having chest pain. Don't freak out! Apparently these are the magic words that strike fear into the hearts of loved ones, and these are the words that rush you right through the waiting room at the ER. I wish I had known this all along; I've spent countless hours in the waiting room of the ER wishing for a Fast Pass, but those are other stories.

I woke up yesterday with the lingering chest pain from the night before. I worked out because yes, I am that crazy, and then decided to look on WebMD for ideas as to what might be causing the problem. Every single thing associated with chest pain urged me to see a health care professional immediately. This thoroughly annoyed me. I didn't want my day to be inconvenienced because of some stupid chest pain (indeed this is the statement of my mother's daughter!) Initially I thought I'd try to get in to my GP or go to urgent care so I could make it to 2nd or 3rd hour to teach. I called my principal and he encouraged me not to come. Good thing because my GP said "we send all chest pain to the ER" and 6 hours later I was leaving the ER. So no school for Katie yesterday.

Driving to the ER was a "pleasant drive" and when I got to the hospital I saw that they had valet parking. Brian would be so proud! If there's ever a place that needs valet parking, this is it! But there was no attendant standing outside! So I tried to find the ER to park and enter. I circled the hospital for 10 minutes trying to find the ER! I really think they need better sign-age for a place like that. A big blinking red sign would be amazing, with a bunch of little signs pointing from every direction to the ER seems quite logical. Luckily I found it without "imploding."

So I walked into the ER and I was a bit relieved they didn't ask me "what seems to be the problem?" or I may have started laughing right then and there. After taking my vitals and hearing the words chest pain, they sent me right to triage. While in triage a 70 year-old man came in with chest pain, and the nurse who was training a new nurse explained that you don't triage a 70 year-old man with chest pain, you just send him right in, but if it were a 20 year-old they'd check him out first. Then she picked up my chart and said "Classic example!" She asked me some questions, one of which was "How would you rate your pain?" With a straight face, which was really hard thanks to Brian, I said 5. I couldn't say 8 because I was willing to work out with the pain, so I figured that wasn't an 8. They sent me right to a bed, put me in one of those awful gowns, and I waited for Herb to arrive. While I wasn't dying, I apparently scarred Herb our first year of marriage with my Kidney infection when he wasn't able to be at the hospital, so he felt compelled to be there now. And I was glad...who else could make me laugh about such events?

So I waited, a good hour at least, for the doctor to come in and check me out. They had hooked me up to all of these monitors, and of course I had to pee (because I'm me) when there was no nurse to be found. So I unhooked myself, found the restroom, and hooked me back up. This happened twice in my day, which I thought was pretty good for my bladder. When the doctor finally came in, he listened to my lungs and heart, asked me what I ate for dinner last night, and then said he thought it might be acid reflux or my gallbladder. They'd have to do an ultra sound to be sure. This seemingly quelled any concerns I might have had.

Before the ultra sound, my nurse came in a gave me a "shooter", as she called it, of Lidocaine and Mylanta. I was burping pain killer the rest of the day, not a good time! Not to mention that it didn't really work, in fact it kind of increased my pain (although still not an 8!) I was then wheeled off for my ultra sound where the tech was super nice and comforting. She gave me a blanket because of course I was cold, and chatted with me about life. I was quickly wheeled back to the room where I stayed with no action whatsoever for the next 2.5 hours.

Finally I sucked it up and hit the nurse call button (I hate inconveniencing people for minor reasons) and asked if Herb could go get us some food. She went to ask the doctor if I could eat and in he came with my results. (I should've asked for food sooner!) He said I have gallstones and that they treat it the same right now as acid reflux because my gallstones are making it difficult for me to process the acid caused by fatty foods. He said he'd give me a list of foods that cause acid reflux to avoid. This was another point where I had to work hard not to laugh--good ol' Brian would have said "I know this already! It's like if I have a cannonball wound and the doctor says: here's a list of ways to avoid getting a cannonball wound--don't stand directly in front of a cannon. How true that is!" Now I really did need that list because I don't eat a lot of fatty foods in the first place. They didn't manage to give me a list, but they said in general to avoid foods high in fat and added "like peanut butter." It's as if he said to me "and no more happiness!" My little lactose intolerant self eats peanut butter as a go to food every day for lunch. I'm still pondering what will be my replacement food while mourning the loss of my peanut butter.

Before I was discharged my nurse came in and told me that there were three women in their twenties who had come in today with chest pain, all three of them had gallstones, but the other two were whisked to surgery while I was given a discharge slip. What a blessing to not have to have surgery! They said I can live with gallstones for a very long time with no real effect, as long as I eat healthy, and I was thinking that it's a great thing that I have changed my diet so much. If this had happened 5 years ago I may have been the one sent to surgery, but I changed my diet to be more healthy and while it didn't completely spare me, it made a difference.

So now I'm trying to deal with the realities of this. I'm taking acid blockers, but I draw the line at the Percocet prescribed to me. If I'm a five I don't need big pain killers! But really I have to consider the foods that might trigger a worsening of my gallstones. I'll see an internist in a few weeks and he'll help me out I hope. I feel like my diet is so limited already that this just makes me more sad. I will say that lists I found online of foods that tend to bother gallstones are foods that have bothered me for a while now. Foods like eggs, pork and red onion are on the list, so I'm not completely crazy that those bother me AND I've already cut them out of my diet. I guess it's just being mindful, or even more mindful, when I make food decisions outside of my house. I try to be, but I'll be even more diligent in that area.

I am thankful that the least of my worries is diet change rather than surgery I suppose, but ala Brian Regan the doctor is the only time I feel like a little kid again. "You didn't listen to me last time, did you? 'No, no I didn't.' What are you going to do next time? 'Listen when you tell me stuff.' And when are you going to start? 'Right now, right now I'm going to start.'" So I'll try to listen to the stuff my doctor told me, and hopefully next time I won't land myself in the ER. Or if I have to eventually find myself there, may it be bad enough that I have to "say 8!"

Check out Brian Regan's bits on the ER right here:
ER Part I
ER Part II
Doctor's Office

Long Distance

2008-10-23T08:42:00.000-07:00

Last night I talked to my Uncle Dave on the phone because my sister was hanging out and he called her to chat. It was so nice to catch up with someone I love, to hear his voice and be assured that he's hanging in there. I love to reconnect with people who live far away, but I'm HORRIBLE at it! I really am no good at sending emails, especially the variety where I am supposed to go on and on about my life. I love getting those emails from others, the updates that fill me in on their happenings, but writing them myself is difficult. I'm so terrible at picking up the phone when I'm thinking about someone and just dialing their number. I get concerned about what time it is there or how I will be inconveniencing them or I just plain want some down time. I feel selfish for being such a poor communicator, especially with family who live far away.

My sister is so good at long distance. Whether it's texting or calling, she keeps up with so many long distance relationships. I wish I were more like her, better at touching base. I wonder why this is an area of weakness for me. It's not a case of "out of sight, out of mind" but I'm afraid it appears that way. I don't want others to believe that I don't love them or don't care, but I can't seem to find a way to be successful at the long distance relationship thing.

I have no conclusion, just the problem. So I welcome any and all feedback. How are you successful at keeping long distance relationships alive? How do you keep in touch with people far away? These questions come with no promises that I'll be any better, but at least they come with a willingness to try. That's all I've got, the ability to try.

Planning Period

2008-10-21T09:31:00.000-07:00

I so enjoyed blogging on Monday that I decided that it wouldn't be horribly inconvenient to attempt blogging during my planning period during the week. It may not be consistent, but it at least will give me something to aim for. I may not fall off the face of the earth after all.

I should be planning during my "planning" period, but I'm having a mental block. It's not just at work either. I forgot three birthdays last week, which if you know me it's not Katie-like at all. So much of my life is in limbo right now. No news on the house, no concrete job for Herb yet, no vision at school and no concrete emotion. I can't really describe or name where I am, which apparently stops me in my tracks. According to Melinda I make her "name" things, a process that I do myself. I name how I'm feeling. I name the situations I am living through. I name the people in my life. Not so much name calling as calling it like it is. Observing and identifying how things work and why they matter. This brain block of mine has kept me from "naming" happenings in my life and I don't know what to do with myself when I'm in that place. Suffice it to say, I'm in a limbo.

I suppose this is what some would call waiting on the Lord. Normally when I think of that phrase I envision waiting for something specific or guidance in a particular area. I've never had the experience of waiting on the Lord for some undefined purpose or idea. Waiting on the Lord for a sign of where I'm going. But that's okay. It's something new; a new experience in my walk with Jesus. So I guess I'm not really in a "planning period" right now; I'm in a waiting period. May the Lord give me a wide soul as I await His leading.

A Good Man

2008-10-20T09:18:00.000-07:00

There is a short story by Flannery O'Conner called "A Good Man is Hard to Find" and it is a tale of one broken girl's ability to find the worst man possible. It's an awful story tearing at the very dignity of men. While I would say that a good man is a good find, I can't go so far as to say he's hard to find. Or maybe I'm just blessed. I know many a good man, and I am often uplifted by the good young men I see in my classroom. But mostly I'm inspired by my good man.

Last night our pastor spoke about Ephesians 5 and the mystery of a strong Christ centered marriage. I have often heard me referred to as a marriage advocate, as the voice for the positives of marriage. I am serious about my belief in marriage, about my belief that there is no greater relationship that bears witness to God's love for us. Much of that is grounded in my foundation with the Lord, but much of that stems from my spouse. It truly takes two to make a marriage work, and I strongly believe that my husband is a wonderful leader in strengthening our marriage.

In just the past week, I have seen so much of Herb as a good man. Everyday he meets me at the door and lifts my backpack off of my shoulders and gives me a hug. Herb helps bear my physical burdens. When I need to cry he holds me and allows me to grieve. Herb helps tend to my emotional burdens. After he passed the Bar exam and went out to celebrate, he brought home flowers to thank me for my part in his success. Herb recognizes my value in his life. Following church last week he stopped to ask a women who sat at his table the previous week about a point of challenge they'd created as a table. Herb wanted to check up on her spiritual growth. He made us late, but he also tended to the soul of another. He entered into a difficult yet loving conversation with me about how he finds patience with others that I don't have. Herb lovingly challenged me to assume the best in people. He slept with me in an uncomfortable bed just because I'd asked him to spend time with my family. Herb loves me just that much.

I'm not sure if a good man is hard to find, but I know I am extremely blessed to have one in my life. Herb is a good man and he reminds me to see the good in others. He is a man I respect and willingly submit to because I trust him. I trust who he is and who God is creating him to be. Marriage may be hard, but it is worth it to know, to intimately know, a good man.

Published?

2008-10-01T20:29:00.000-07:00

You all know that someday I hope to be published, to be a writer in my own right. Not so much for the fame but to allow my voice to be heard. Without realizing it or initiating it, part of my voice was heard today through an article published in the Tucson Weekly. I haven't written much about the heart wrenching drama that has been my work situation in the last weeks for fear of saying the wrong thing, unintentionally allowing my emotions to slander any involved party. And I don't want to necessarily go into details about it here and now. But I thought for those of you who were curious or knew the article was coming, I'd make it accessible to inquiring minds. I wouldn't call it completely accurate, although I didn't have a say so part of that is my own fault. But for the most part the views expressed pretty accurately represent most of the parties involved. Feel free to post comments or ask questions and I'll answer them to the best of my ability while still seeking to be honoring and respectful. I'm not sure yet how I feel about the article, but it's out there now and can't be ignored. So we'll see how it goes.

Anyway, sorry if that's super vague. Hopefully the article can give some details and I can fill in the rest on a question by question basis. So without further ramblings from this English teacher here's the link:
Censored!

Putting in a bid...

2008-09-23T09:24:00.000-07:00

SO I've been a slacker blogger. I haven't written, I haven't read, I haven't been immersed in blog world at all. To my faithful readers, I'm sending out another apology. Thanks for checking in at all! And to my faithful readers, you will be the first to see the pictures of our possible new house! Herb and I went house hunting this weekend and found an ideal match for us! Herb was almost beside himself with excitement, and while I had to think things through a bit, one return to the house Monday and I was as sold as he was.

I talked to my mom Sunday and she asked about the house, specs and that sort of thing. But she ended with, "Does it feel like home?"

My response was "I can picture Christmas in the living room."

To which she teared up and explained, "That's what grandpa used to ask us about when we looked at houses. Could we picture Christmas there?"

And thus, unknowingly God blessed me with a sign that this was meant to be! We put in a bid today and now begins the long, confusing journey of house buying. Pray for us that we might make wise decisions and follow God's prompting through this process. And pray that if it's not His timing or will that we will trust that as well.

Here's the house. I am posed in funny positions...I was trying to make the house feel "lived in"! :-)

Clothed in Him

2008-08-25T07:15:00.000-07:00

In my devotional this morning, the author challenged us to write down what we hoped God would do in our lives. I thought this was a really cool exercise and I am embraced the challenge. I journaled it, but I thought I would receive more accountability on my hopes for transformation if I posted my thoughts. So here are my ambitions for being clothed in God:

I want to be clothed in love, a love for others that compels people to draw near to God. A love that looks past flaws and sees beauty. A love that endures even when it's not easy to. A love that looks beyond myself and sees the hearts of others.

I long to be clothed in patience, with a heart that waits on Your timing. I long to be content with what I have, hopeful for what's to come and thankful for the process that will get me there. I want to embrace the journey, not looking to arrive but appreciating each step.

I hope to have great hope, hope found only in knowing Christ. Hope that He wants more for me, hope that He will do anything to give me more and hope that He won't leave me on the way. I want hope that inspires me to pray, hope that brings me to the foot of the cross and relinquishes all cares and worries then and there. Hope that walks away knowing the Lord has it all in His hands.

I wish for a mouth of purity. Words that encourage and do not tear down. Words that inspire and do not discourage. Words of truth, even when they're hard to say (and right motives in my heart as I do speak the truth). I long for words of kindness and hope, words that reflect a heart for God. Words that sing praise even when a song can't be found.

I long to learn from who I was, to be daily transformed into who I hope to be, beyond what I hope to be and instead to what God sees I can be. I hope to change, to be changed and allow God to change me. May I never be who I am now, but may I constantly be growing into an image of who He wants me to be.

May I be strengthened by faith to do beyond all I can ask or think with Your guidance. I long for faith that can move mountains and move me. May I have faith that challenges me to be a risk taker; may I not stay stagnant where I'm comfortable. I want to step out in faith to do great things for You.

And finally may I be a woman of humility and grace. May I offer forgiveness to those who hurt me and may I constantly reflect the forgiveness I received that fateful day on the cross. May I realize my flaws before seeking to point out the flaws in others. And may that humble me to know I don't deserve the grace I've been given. May God's grace and forgiveness inspire me to always forgive, no matter the cost to myself. After all the highest cost was paid for my forgiveness.

Lord, help me to be clothed in you more every day of my life. You are beauty and I long to be beautiful.

Bush Bashing

2008-08-11T06:54:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm about to go political on you for a moment. If you are opposed, feel free to ignore the post altogether. But I can't help posting about this topic. I reached a point of frustration and then found a moment of enlightenment, which I'd like to share with you if you are interested.

I try diligently to ignore the media in regards to politics in general, but specifically in regards to President Bush. I have been a Bush fan for a long time, which many of you know about me. The biggest point in his favor in my book is that he is a believer and is not afraid to admit it. He asks for prayer and prays himself. He is humble in recognizing that he can't tackle the job he has without the help of a greater power. I appreciate all of these things about him especially because he does these things while being strongly hated by a majority of the nation.

The nation makes no apologies for their hatred of Bush. They slam him in all directions, and even when it is not his fault. This week I saw an article about the Chinese government chastising Bush for speaking up about their questionable human rights policies. Next to the article was a picture of President Bush! I couldn't believe the blatant stab at President Bush for something he didn't do. Shouldn't there be a picture of the Chinese President? The man who made the heretical comments towards America? But no, they post a picture of our President in hopes that readers will see the picture, assume Bush bashing, and read with a hopeful eye for more criticism fodder. Needless to say this put me on guard.

I was talking this over with my friend Shiloh last night, and I came upon a fascinating idea. While I was in my fits of rage about this topic, I said that it frustrated me that we live in a nation so willing to openly hate its leader. And then, Aha! Luke 21:17 "You will be hated by all on account of my name." If President Bush is so hated by the people of this world, he must be pursuing God in a powerful way. I am by no means saying the he is perfect, that he does no wrong, but I do think that perhaps he is doing what God has called him to. If that's the case, no wonder the world hates him. The world hates what it does not understand. Although this doesn't completely pacify me about the Bush bashing, it does reassure me that the Lord is in control. He is bigger than the powers that be and bigger than the naysayers of the world. He is capable of doing far beyond all we can ask or think, politically and in all realms of life.

So next time you hear someone bashing Bush, and if you believe that he is walking with the Lord, take a deep breath and realize they aren't hating the man but the Christ within him. It reassures me a bit, hopefully it will to you as well.

The Bar Exam

2008-07-29T07:08:00.000-07:00

I think I've already hit up most of my readers for prayer, but I'll write one last all call. Today Herb takes the Bar exam. The culmination of two months (or if you look at it this way-3 years and two months) of work. While there were certainly some doubts and anxiety yesterday, this morning he seemed more confident, anxious to get it over with but stronger in faith. What an answer to prayer already! We prayed and cried (ok, I cried) together this morning and off he went. I am so very proud of his hard work, no matter the outcome of the exam. I pray that he feels that way as well.

So one last request for prayer for my hubby on this day. I'm sorry if you feel nagged; I just have a nagging on my heart to lift him up. May you, just as I prayed for Herb, be assured in your identity in Christ, no matter the outcome of your actions. We are precious because He has made us so. You are precious to me as well. Thank you for being my faithful friends!

Pride and Faith

2008-07-13T14:07:00.000-07:00

Hello faithful readers! If you're still reading this, thank you for holding true when I haven't held up my end of the bargain. My mom said that my readers were disappointed with my lack of writing in the free time of my summer. It is true I hoped to blog more, but my summer seemed to be filled with living life rather than commenting on it. Not a bad thing by any stretch of the imagination, but still I am sorry to be absent from the writing scene for so very long.

I return the day before school starts in much the same place as I was last year. Not completely, I feel this year God has grown me immensely, but I find I still sing some of the same tunes. For instance, I have been worrying much about the work load of this year, just like last year. With 4 AP classes, classes full of students who actually turn in assignments, I have been grading plenty already this summer. I fear this will be the trend for this year. Grading is my least favorite task as a teacher and one I do not relish in the least. So the prospect of my life being consumed with this odious task is heart breaking to me.

I keep trying to talk myself out of it. "I'm sticking to my guns. I'm working until 5:30 everyday, but not a minute more. I'm not working on the weekends. It will still get done." But no amount of self-talk seems to dig me out of my despair. But our God is mighty to save, and He spoke to my heart in just the nick of time.

I was reading Having a Mary Spirit this afternoon and the chapter was about pride. I thought, "Oh great, conviction time. Can't we just have a lighter subject? One that will minister more to my state of being right now?" God's bigger than my nay saying as usual and spoke mightily to my heart.

She started out by confounding my definition of pride. My whole life I've believed that pride is puffing oneself up, believing we are greater than we actually are, which is true of the word. But also true is the idea that insecurity and negative self talk is another version of pride. I wasn't completely sure she was right on this topic, but after further exploration I believe she is. Pride is when we focus on ourselves, make ourselves the center of the universe rather than lifting up others. When we focus on our failures, on our imperfections, on our insecurities, we are still focusing on us!

Okay, I get where you're going, but still, what does this have to do with me, with my life at this moment? Then there it was, my story. The author was relaying her struggles in writing this book, in believing she didn't have the knowledge, ability or time in which to write. Why would God choose her with all of her failures and lack of time? Here's what God answered me, I mean her:

Let me get this straight...although I spoke the universe into existence and hung the stars in space...even though I promised to help you when you said yes to My call...and even though you've cleared your life and made time to write this book...you still keep saying you can't do it...What you're really telling Me...is that you're the omnipotent one around here. Because no matter how much I help you, no matter how willing I am to give you the words and the ability to write...you just know you'll find some way to mess it all up!

Yep, that's about it. But it sounds so awful when you put it like that! It is pride, but really it is unbelief. And that's what it boils down to. Do I have faith enough to trust God will take care of me? Do I have faith enough to know that God will grant me time when I need it? Do I have faith enough to believe that He's called these kids to my classroom for a purpose and that He'll provide everything I need? It's about faith.

I used to think that pride was the root of all sin, and in a lot of ways the two are intricately connected. But I'm starting to realize that sin is also intertwined with unbelief. Because if we believe God is big enough to take care of things, we won't: avoid risk because of fear, speak up when faced with an opportunity to gossip, worry and strive about things outside of our control, try to take control in difficult situations. If we believe, we remove ourselves from all of these opportunities to sin.

Last week our pastor asked us if we truly trust God, if we truly trust His desire to work things together for the good. And while we initially want to respond with a resounding yes, the answer is, at least for me, not all the time. I don't act out of trust in Him, in fact many of my actions are done out of fear. I'm just being honest. So now I understand the man's prayer to Jesus in Matthew, "Lord I believe, help me in my unbelief."

Thus, with the start of a new school year I seek to believe and trust God more. He will provide. He does seek to work for my good. I need to stop protecting myself or striving about what I can't protect and just trust. I want to be a 1 Peter woman whose beauty lies in a quiet and gentle spirit, a heart without fear. May my life be humble and full of faith, not just this week, not just this year, but may this be the beginning of a lifelong journey full of trust in my Lord.

My risk

2008-06-22T19:55:00.000-07:00

I know this is the long awaited posted. You each have been waiting with bated breath to see what risk I will take. What new adventure will God call me to? I fear many of you will be disappointed with this post, or with me, but this is what I've got so far.

I am currently sitting in a dorm room in San Diego, CA. I've just dropped Herb at the airport and I'm settling in to my room. I am here for an AP conference, alone. This is risky for me. As I have been known to say, "I don't do alone well." And it's true. I cease to be brave once I've lost my amigos. There is something comforting to me in the presence of another human being I know well. I can brave the LA freeways, if Melinda's sitting in the passenger seat. I can navigate a new campus and a new system, if my mom is there or a phone call away. I can try new adventures, experience new places, if Herb is by my side. But ask me to navigate a major freeway alone, explore a campus I'm unfamiliar with (and make it places on time), and experience new places by myself and I am at a loss. I don't really like big freeways or daunting driving anyway, but going it alone is just fearful for me.

I've been thinking about this all weekend. Wondering why I can't be brave. Why do I fear major city driving? Why am I afraid to navigate in new places by myself? Why, at 25 years of age, do I feel at a loss when traveling solo? Honestly, it makes me feel like a coward. It makes me wonder how I can ever be a mom. If I take my kids somewhere and I'm in charge of driving and navigating, I'd better not freak out. If they are yelling in the backseat, I'd better stay level headed enough to keep it together. Yet I don't feel like I'm there. I feel like a big chicken. And I began to feel the anxiety of being alone four hours before Herb even left me. I began worrying about how I'd make it back from the airport and figure out my situation. What a scaredy-cat!

Which is why I am writing you now. As I left Herb at the airport, tears trickling down my cheeks, I made a decision. This is my risk. I am going to take it one risk at a time. I got in my car and drove myself safely back to the dorm, merging and changing lanes on a major CA highway! I got to my room and I set up my things, preparing myself for the day tomorrow. I spoke to the front desk and negotiated my computer into accessing the internet. Small victories, small risks, but mine none the less. I did these things by myself. I didn't call my mom and consult how to solve the problem. I didn't have Herb talk to me the whole way back to the dorm via cell phone. I did it. Unaccompanied. And tomorrow, I'll set my alarm clock, get ready, find the dining hall and my class on time. I can do this. I can. This is my risk, to trust myself to be alone.

And I can do this because I am not alone. I invited God into the passenger seat of the car with me. He'll sleep in the bed next to me tonight. He'll sit on the couch with me while I read my book. I am not alone, and I need to learn that. I need to learn that facing fears means embracing trust. And I know only one person who I can place complete trust in. It is going to be okay because I am not alone!

And now, I have to make a confession, not only am I not alone right now, but I am not going to be alone in 24 hours either. Melinda will be joining me tomorrow. You're laughing right now, aren't you? Be honest, I can hear it in my head. "You're kidding me, right Katie? All this talk about taking risks and being alone, and it's only for 24 measly hours?! You can't be serious! Buck it up and take it!" You're right, it is ridiculous that a girl of 25 has to pep talk herself into being alone. But as I've said, I don't do alone well. So this is my chance, be it small, to practice being alone. There is no loss is small victories, and this will be one of mine. I will practice and I will try and I will risk. Not without fear, but I am going to do it. Not just today, and not just tomorrow, but I am going to practice being alone, doing things by myself. Pray for me because for me it is a risk, and it can only be entered into with great love and compassion from others and from God. Here I go...I'll keep you posted.

2 AM Wake Up Call

2008-06-12T09:11:00.000-07:00

As some of you know, I've been fighting something all week long. Sore throat, snot, stomach ache, overall ache. In general I don't do the laying low well, but I have attempted to the last two days. I tried to nap, read a good book (nothing good at all was on TV), I didn't even work out or clean my house (huge moral victory!) But that didn't stop my body from attacking me!

2 AM I am wide awake. Apparently I had draped my arm across my neck and my glands were so swollen that it hurt to touch. So I got up and attempted to rid myself of snot and climbed back in bed. No good. My throat was throbbing and the pain kept my eyes wide open. I got up a few more times, used a flashlight to check my throat--looked white a spotty to me. Arg...I laid there trying to surrender my aching body to the Lord, trying to trust Him. But these thoughts kept flowing through my head:

Why can't we call the doctor in the middle of the night? 8 AM feels so far away!

Why isn't there a take home strep test that I can just pick up at Walgreens?

Why did I throw away all of the expired drugs in the de-cluttering process?

I remember all the times the doctor asked me if my sore throat was keeping me up. I responded of course not, and he reassured me that he would prescribe me some pain meds if it became a problem. I'd take those now!

But come 2:45 when I just couldn't take it any more, I fell on Mom's home remedy. I gargled with warm salt water for so long a DUI officer might have mistaken me for being drunk on the ocean. Although it's not fun choking on saline, it was enough to ease my aching throat and allow me to find sleep again. Praise God!

In the throes of last night, I set the alarm for 8 AM so I could call the doctor. When I heard that precious beeping this morning I awoke to an almost, key word almost, painless throat. Yay, I think. Why is it that when you've finally set your mind on going to the doctor, your symptoms seems to subside? So I'm waiting it out. I gargled again, been drinking hot liquids and I definitely haven't returned to the 2 AM level of pain. Hopefully this doesn't kick me in the butt. Hopefully come tomorrow I will have no pain or snot, and I'll be able to enjoy my birthday festivities in peace. And hopefully 2 AM won't be a time of the night I see for a while. We all know I don't do well without my beauty sleep.

Clutter

2008-06-10T12:34:00.000-07:00

To my great annoyance our apartment complex asked Herb and I to empty out all of our cabinets, drawers and closet floors for exterminators to come spray the place. They gave us the notice Thursday and it had to be done by Monday. Short notice, frustrating, but at least it didn't give me too much time to dwell on the ridiculousness of the task!

Come Sunday morning, Herb and I rose and began the odious job of emptying out all of our storage spaces. I was determined to attempt to use the time to "spring clean", give away unneeded things and wipe down all of our cabinets. Three garbage bags and four give away bags later our house was a complete disaster area! Our kitchen contents alone occupied the whole of our dining room table, coffee table and pink chairs! I reminded Herb that this is why the biggest room in our eventual home needs to be the kitchen. He said he never doubted that fact for a moment. Our emptied closets consumed the floor of the office entirely! Our bathroom lived in two laundry baskets. We have so much stuff, and yet I struggled to know what to get rid of. Much of it is useful and much of it is sentimental, yet all of it felt like clutter. Perhaps that's just because it was spread all over my house! Herb and I both had quite the aversion to the clutter generated, and he declared that as soon as we were showered we weren't returning to the house until bedtime. So we left.

We went to lunch, to the movies, to the mall, to church, to some friends' house and fully escaped our home for the day. Although I was happy to be away from the clutter, I so disliked not seeing the inside of my home all day long. Especially on a Sunday, my supposed day of rest. Even though all of the activities we did seem unlike work, it still wasn't the same type of rest generated by sitting on my couch watching a good baseball game. Nevertheless we escaped our home for day one.

Day two arrived and the exterminators ousted us again in a different way. They were scheduled to arrive between 9 and 10 and we weren't allowed near our apartment for four hours after they finished. Oy! So Herb and I left again to try and fill our days with non-home locations. Herb went to school, as did I. Not only was I ousted, but I really wasn't feeling well. I just wanted to be home in my bed, but alas, that was not to be. So off I trudged to be productive at school. I did find some reprieve in lunch and a movie with a good friend in the afternoon. But I knew that once I arrived home, I still had to face the clutter! Arg!

When we returned come evening, we began the tedious task of putting everything back. Two more garbage bags full, and one more give away bag later, we had returned items to their rightful location. We do have a bit more space and a bit less clutter, but the days left me impatient in our house buying process. I don't want to feel like we're sufficiently wedged in every nook and cranny of this space we've rented. I don't want to feel like there is no more room for anything else. But that's how I feel. And I question this emotion. Shouldn't I just get rid of more things? Live more simplistically? Embrace the small space? After all, this is the reality for so many people around the US and the world. I should be content. Get rid of clutter. But should be and is are sometimes distant destinations.

The truth is Herb and I will be fine in this apartment. God will provide for us, protect us, and make room for us here. But I will still dream of more, and someday more will become a reality. Until then, I will do my very best to hold the clutter at bay. At least I've gotten good at hiding it away. Just ask my living room floor how much was really in my cabinets and drawers!