Mother's Day challenge

Mother's Day. Ufta.

It may not be recognized by those around us, but: We. Are. Mothers.

Even though last week when I was asked by a well-meaning stranger if I had any children I said no.

I said no and then went home feeling guilty that I had betrayed my baby.

I said no and went home and laid on the floor and cried. 

I cried because I don't HAVE my child.

My husband held me, and told me not to feel guilty. I still did a little bit.

Because I said no. I don't have any children.

But I DID. I had Jude. I had him. He is still my son, and I am still his mama.

So what do I do on Mother's Day in church when the mothers are asked to stand for recognition? 

(I can tell you what I'll do: skip church, and go hiking with my honey.)

What do I do on a day when the world is celebrating what I am,... but what I'm not yet blessed to live as?

I'm not even close to the only one in this predicament. I'm not even close to the only one who hurts on Mother's Day. What about the mama of one or two who had a recent miscarriage and wants that baby's life to be recognized this Mother's Day? What about the woman who has been trying for a baby for years, only to be thwarted by her own body? 

She would give anything to mother her child; to have a baby.

We would die for the opportunity to make the sacrifices that mothers are being honored for on Mother's Day.

I'm sure you can think of someone (other than me). Someone for whom, at the very least this Mother's Day is bittersweet. Here's my challenge to you: 

Reach out to them. Send a card. Take them to coffee. Give them flowers.

DON'T wish them a "Happy Mother's Day!" 

For many of us, "Happy Mother's Day" is a dream lost,... for now at least. It may be a dream we hold on to for the future, but it is not going to be realized this year.

Wish them peace this Mother's Day. Tell them you're thinking of them and their lost baby, or unfulfilled dreams. Tell them you're praying they'll have something to celebrate next Mother's Day. Recognize their pain and longing on this day that is simply joy for much of the world.

Think of a way you can bless a hurting mama or would-love-to-be-a-mama in the next week or two; and DO IT.

I posted this plenty early for you to ponder and pray about the most sensitive way to bless someone. 

So, please, help make this bitter day a little more sweet for someone who may be hurting.

My challenge to myself this Mother's Day is just as the verse on my wall says. 

I need to simply:

BE STILL AND KNOW

THAT HE IS GOD.

New and Improved!

Welcome to my new and improved blog! New domain, new design, and new features! It will FOREVER be a work in progress (that's kinda the point of a blog), but this is the most changes I've ever made at once. Thanks to Franchesca at Small Bird Studios for the design. I love it!

The about me section at the top is new, as are the blog links in the right column. I'm planning on putting more down there as I discover them. My button for sharing is also new. If you have a blog of your own, I'd love it if you'd share my button with your readers!

I have some fun plans and hopes for my blog in the coming months. I've had a number of people tell me in the last few months that I should right a book. Well, this is my response: Maybe someday, but for now I'm blogging! If you have any ideas or things you would like to see on my blog, or topics you'd like me to write about please share. I really want to share my experience with you, as well as what I've learned from it and how I've grown; so if you have questions, please ask.

Enjoy!

My indoor spring

Spring has sprung, and I don't have a spot for a real garden yet, so I'm growing new things inside! Hopefully I'll get a late garden in at our new house in Grand Junction, but this will have to hold me til then!

Here's what's growing at my house:

My begonia is blooming again. It must have peeked out the window, saw green grass instead of snow, and knew it was time to bloom! My mini rose (Valentines Day gift from my wonderful hubby) in the above pic is also budding out again.

Growing some Iris bulbs. Hopefully in a month or two I'll have some big beautiful blue blooms!

This one just made me smile: Libby dog. Not a plant, but, makes me happy. Like plants.

And here's my big experiment. Lily of the Valley! Ordered the pips online, and just planted them a week ago. I see some progress already, and should see it really start going this week. Hopefully blooms in about a month! Lily of the Valley means: Return to Joy. My dear SIL Heather, painted them on Jude's painting, and they have a really special meaning to me now. I'm hoping that I'll be able to transfer them into a little memorial garden for Jude at our new house. Hopefully this works!

Found the cute planters at Goodwill! :-)

A Heart of Forgiveness

Ephesians 4:31-32 Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you

The theme of the last few days for me has been various forms of bitterness vs. forgiveness.


First I found this blog written by another baby-loss mama. (A fantastic blog site, by the way, which I have spent countless hours this week exploring!) I related so strongly to what she had to say. The hurt that started it all was very different, but the product of deeply-rooted bitterness is the same.


Forgiveness is a topic I have always struggled with. One of the products of being an introvert my whole life is that I have fewer close friendships than many people, but the ones I do have I rely on heavily. I have generally followed a pattern of having 1 or 2 really close friends, that I trust deeply. Probably more than is healthy if I'm being honest. Inevitably one by one those people have hurt me. The pattern then is that I take a huge step back from the relationship and forever hold that person at arms length. I tell myself that this behavior is justifiable and wise as a self-protective mechanism. My thought is that if they betrayed my trust once, then it is only wise to avoid ever being vulnerable with them again. 


The problem with this seemingly rational thought process is that it is often hiding something much more sinister in my heart. Seeds of bitterness take root, and I tell myself I'm just being wise not to trust them when really I'm allowing myself to wallow in old unforgiven hurts. 


In recent years, I have struggled less with this pattern in friendships. I think it probably has something to do with being married, and so the relationship that I rely on most (other than my relationship with my Savior) is with Jess. We live and do everything together, so forgiveness is a necessity in both directions and he's never allowed me to harbor a seed of bitterness toward him. (Plus, he's really pretty fantastic, and rarely does things that require forgiveness anyway. I think he has to practice forgiveness in our relationship more frequently than I do.)


Anyway, between the previously mentioned blog post, and my quiet times and Bible study this week I have been deeply convicted about some unresolved bitterness that has been growing out of control in my heart. While time has allowed me to eventually move on from old hurts, in the process of losing Jude things were done and said to us that, honestly, still feel unforgivable. I know that there is no way I can move on from this hurt by my own strength. Fortunately, we aren't expected to. Praise God! 


I don't know if this hurt will ever be addressed face to face. It may never be apologized for. And I want to be okay with that. I'm not yet; but I think having the desire to forgive is a good first step. I want to be able to look the people that hurt me in the eye without bitterness or malice toward them in my heart. That is my prayer. 


And I know that if I continually make a decision to pull the weed of bitterness up by the roots when it begins to pop up in my heart that the Holy Spirit will plant forgiveness and healing in it's place.

Poem: Sorrow

Saw this poem on another blog. I thought it was just beautiful.




You cannot row it away
Not this sorrow,
 you cannot drape it
 over sand dunes
 hoping it will blow into the atmosphere,
not this sorrow...
and the slow sound of the word
sorrow
sorrow
sorrow
begins a keening cry
 soft and solid, loud
 and languorous,
 stretching pain until
 it begins to wear thin in spots,
 and the tears that watered rain forests
 now collect in lakes, and
 those who know this sorrow
plant a tree,
 a magnificent tree.

-Ruth Ann Meyers Kulp


from: http://drjoanne.blogspot.com/2012/02/rowing-in-sea-of-tears.html

Going Home

You know that feeling you get at the end of a trip? Even an awesome vacation like we just had at the beach, at the end of it, I get this deep desire just to be home. To sleep in my own bed, to cook in my own kitchen, to sit and read on my own couch, etc.... A large part of that desire is rooted in being an introvert and being deeply connected to my own "space;" the space that Jess and I have created for ourselves. Part of it is the desire for the things that reside in our home; like the pictures we have on the wall,  and our little shelf of Jude's things. But I think that more than anything it is from a longing for all of the things that "home" means. To me "home" means: safety, family, love, comfort, retreat, laughter, and a place to pursue what I'm passionate about.


We just found out a few days before we left on vacation that we are going "home" for Jess' rotations for the next two years. We were hoping it would work for him to be in Grand Junction for his 3rd and 4th years of school, so what a blessing to find out we were going! We're hoping to move in early June, but we'll just have to see how the timing works as he's taking his first round of boards this summer. When we got the news though, I had this great feeling of hope at the thought of moving back to the place I still refer to as "home." That's where my parents are, and I have several siblings in the area. There are so many things that we love about Grand Junction, but for me, I think the primary feeling that I have is that it is a safe haven. I know that there are times in your lives that it's healthy and good to push your comfort level, do things and go places that don't always feel "safe." But for me, after so much upheaval in the last 12 months of our lives, I can't wait to be home.


Other things I "can't wait" for:
to be close to my mama.
to worship with old friends.
to have a cute little house of our own.
to have our own yard.
to garden to my little heart's content.
to get another puppy.
to potentially start a community garden at my dad's church.
to find another job that I love.
to go to the GJ farmers market. (Best farmers market EVER!!!)
to hang out with my little brothers. 
to connect with old friends, and make new ones.
to be closer to the mountains and outdoor activities.


Alright, not really sure where I was going with that, but I'm just so excited for all of these things that I thought I'd share. The point is though, GJ still feels like home, and we can't wait to be back. God has blessed us immensely in the 5 1/2 years we've been away, we've experienced a lot and learned a lot, but we're ready for home now.


I was contemplating this earlier in relation to Heaven. How awesome will our final homecoming be? In the last few months, I have truly longed for that homecoming more than anything on earth. I have for the first time in my life felt like an alien and stranger in this world. I pray that as time goes on my deep desire for Heaven, and the eternal perspective that it provides won't fade. I don't ever want to let myself use what I've been though as an excuse to live a "safe" lifestyle looking no farther than my home down here. I want to forevermore live a lifestyle of eagerly awaiting my final homecoming, but meanwhile faithfully pursuing every ministry that God has equipped and called me to.


Philippians 3:20 "But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ."



I do love the feeling of coming home (even when it means catching up on heaps and heaps of laundry), and how much more joyful and full of peace will our final homecoming be? Can't wait!