I prayed, begged for another child after Noah. My husband had a vasectomy and more children already than he had ever dreamed. I felt hopeless. I identified with Hannah in the Old Testament, in 1 Samuel 1:27, 28. I promised Him my child if He were to choose to bless me in that way. The Lord did as He saw fit, changed my husband's heart and allowed me to become pregnant. Then He called me on that promise. I had to give up my baby Bram for His glory.
"For this child I prayed; and the Lord hath given me my petition which I asked of him: therefore also I have lent him to the Lord; as long as he liveth he shall be lent to the Lord."
Showing posts with label Lyric. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lyric. Show all posts
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Friday, December 9, 2011
Loss
We've experienced a loss in our practice and I can't help but identify with the mother in so many ways. It has me returning to my Bible Studies - those that I never advanced beyond page one because they were simply too difficult to embrace. Maybe now, seven years later, I can find Hope in them.
Dear God, Please help me to see the truth about you and about my baby. Give me strength and understanding as I seek answers to my questions.
In my grief, I sought refuge in research articles. I questioned God about the science, the semantics, but I never doubted His plan. I did have complete faith that Lyric's life and death would be for His glory, but I longed for deeper understanding and I believe in doing so, I became closer to my Father. A friend at the time told me it was sinful to question God in such ways. I had great reverence, but my learning comes with understanding, not simply accepting. It isn't defiance or doubt; it's intrigue and wonder. I believe the Lord appreciates this as well. The Holy Bible isn't a single sentence demanding our obedience. It is a lengthy book of rationales, poems, songs, life stories, and parables. He wants us to understand and seek Him.
I somehow found peace, although I never fully understood why I suffered. In fact, in my research I developed a greater appreciation for just how little I am, and how Great He Is. I felt validated. I was obedient. I made the best decisions with the information I was given at the time. I learned to trust in that peace and my conviction, even if that isolated me completely from the world. I would praise Him and try to find comfort in a community that rejected me.
While these research articles were certainly helpful, I know the best place to find truth is in the Word.
Dear God, Please help me to see the truth about you and about my baby. Give me strength and understanding as I seek answers to my questions.
In my grief, I sought refuge in research articles. I questioned God about the science, the semantics, but I never doubted His plan. I did have complete faith that Lyric's life and death would be for His glory, but I longed for deeper understanding and I believe in doing so, I became closer to my Father. A friend at the time told me it was sinful to question God in such ways. I had great reverence, but my learning comes with understanding, not simply accepting. It isn't defiance or doubt; it's intrigue and wonder. I believe the Lord appreciates this as well. The Holy Bible isn't a single sentence demanding our obedience. It is a lengthy book of rationales, poems, songs, life stories, and parables. He wants us to understand and seek Him.
I somehow found peace, although I never fully understood why I suffered. In fact, in my research I developed a greater appreciation for just how little I am, and how Great He Is. I felt validated. I was obedient. I made the best decisions with the information I was given at the time. I learned to trust in that peace and my conviction, even if that isolated me completely from the world. I would praise Him and try to find comfort in a community that rejected me.
While these research articles were certainly helpful, I know the best place to find truth is in the Word.
Psalm 19:7-10
New International Version (NIV)
7 The law of the LORD is perfect,
refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.
8 The precepts of the LORD are right,
giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the LORD are radiant,
giving light to the eyes.
9 The fear of the LORD is pure,
enduring forever.
The decrees of the LORD are firm,
and all of them are righteous.
10 They are more precious than gold,
than much pure gold;
they are sweeter than honey,
than honey from the honeycomb.
2 Timothy 3:16-17
16 All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, 17 so that the servant of God[a] may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.
Genesis 2:1 tells us the Lord breathed life into Adam. Deuteronomy 32:39 states God puts to death and brings to life. Psalm 139:13-16 - one of my favorite scriptures - reminds us that the Lord created us, created our innermost being. He knit us together, fearfully and wonderfully. The Lord planned my creation, my life, my son's life and the life's of all those babies I have known as they passed, before even Adam was born. He has known before we had any cognizant of life and death. He knew.refreshing the soul.
The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.
8 The precepts of the LORD are right,
giving joy to the heart.
The commands of the LORD are radiant,
giving light to the eyes.
9 The fear of the LORD is pure,
enduring forever.
The decrees of the LORD are firm,
and all of them are righteous.
10 They are more precious than gold,
than much pure gold;
they are sweeter than honey,
than honey from the honeycomb.
2 Timothy 3:16-17
New International Version (NIV)
Hebrews 4:12
New International Version (NIV)
12 For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.
The Word is the source of truth. I am Hopeful it will revive my soul. Loosing a child brings up many questions, both spiritual and philosophical, concerning the meaning of life. Perhaps science has answered many questions about human conception, but what about the soul?
The Word is the source of truth. I am Hopeful it will revive my soul. Loosing a child brings up many questions, both spiritual and philosophical, concerning the meaning of life. Perhaps science has answered many questions about human conception, but what about the soul?
Psalm 139:13-16
New International Version (NIV)
13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
Isaiah 46:3-4 - He will sustain us until we are old, until our hair is gray. "I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you."
One interesting argument I've had with friends and sisters in Christ through my grief is: When does life begin? I've had a few interesting discussions with one in particular who was quite convicted that life doesn't begin until the first breath, as she felt Genesis 2:1 was clear that the absence of breath is the absence of life. She challenged that potentially Lyric was never gifted life because he never independently took breath. Please know that she shared her convictions with the greatest of respect and I was never offended. I share this only to counter-argue that I find great beauty in the realization that while pregnant with Jesus, Mary traveled to stay with her cousin Elisabeth, who was pregnant at the time with John the Baptist. Upon hearing Mary's greeting, John leaped in her womb. He responded and rejoiced in his Savior's presence. He realized this through the Holy Spirit because he was a living being. Before He even formed us, He knew us.
Our essence existed before we were conceived and will continue for an eternal lifetime. This is true for my son, whose life on earth was so brief.
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
Isaiah 46:3-4 - He will sustain us until we are old, until our hair is gray. "I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you."
One interesting argument I've had with friends and sisters in Christ through my grief is: When does life begin? I've had a few interesting discussions with one in particular who was quite convicted that life doesn't begin until the first breath, as she felt Genesis 2:1 was clear that the absence of breath is the absence of life. She challenged that potentially Lyric was never gifted life because he never independently took breath. Please know that she shared her convictions with the greatest of respect and I was never offended. I share this only to counter-argue that I find great beauty in the realization that while pregnant with Jesus, Mary traveled to stay with her cousin Elisabeth, who was pregnant at the time with John the Baptist. Upon hearing Mary's greeting, John leaped in her womb. He responded and rejoiced in his Savior's presence. He realized this through the Holy Spirit because he was a living being. Before He even formed us, He knew us.
Our essence existed before we were conceived and will continue for an eternal lifetime. This is true for my son, whose life on earth was so brief.
Friday, July 1, 2011
My Milk Rushed In...
As I completed the schedule for the next term in the practice, I realized another anniversary of Lyric's birth and death is soon approaching. Still, not a day goes by that I don't think of him, that I don't count him among my children, that I don't feel the weight of his loss. I don't shed the same ocean of tears, but I do continue to mourn. I do continue to mother my lost son, and long for the day that I will hold him again in paradise.
This evening I stumbled across the story of another. Carol McMurrich shares in Mothering Magazine in March of 2007, her story after loosing her daughter, Charlotte. Her words speak to me.
Knowing her daughter had already passed, Carol shared, "I felt I was about to push my baby off a cliff. Inside me, she was still mine. But when she was born and failed to cry, I would lose her. I feared that I would then no longer be a mother."
"After spending the day memorizing her, caring for her and then handing her over to the nurse," Carol explains, "I could never fully describe the feeling of watching my child leave me and knowing with great certainty that I would never see her again."
My milk rushed in and spilled from my body like tears for our lost baby, my body cried out for her in every way, but still we celebrated her - we found the joy in our little girl.
This evening I stumbled across the story of another. Carol McMurrich shares in Mothering Magazine in March of 2007, her story after loosing her daughter, Charlotte. Her words speak to me.
Knowing her daughter had already passed, Carol shared, "I felt I was about to push my baby off a cliff. Inside me, she was still mine. But when she was born and failed to cry, I would lose her. I feared that I would then no longer be a mother."
"After spending the day memorizing her, caring for her and then handing her over to the nurse," Carol explains, "I could never fully describe the feeling of watching my child leave me and knowing with great certainty that I would never see her again."
My milk rushed in and spilled from my body like tears for our lost baby, my body cried out for her in every way, but still we celebrated her - we found the joy in our little girl.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
My Prayer for Lyric
"Lord, I am tentative in asking you for another child. You know my heart and how long I have held the desire. I believe you are all knowing and see what is best for our family, the dynamics, relationships, safety through birth, and the heart of such child. I want your will. I am also aware of how undeserving I am of another little one. I have much to learn as a Godly mother. Patience. Kindness. Gentleness. I also am not in control of my health, to have the safest pregnancy and birth. Yet, Lord, if it is pleasing to you, I ask of you to bless me again. Create in me a mother after your own heart. If it is your will that I shall not birth again, please give me peace. Help me not to grow bitter. Most importantly, assist me in my role today. Keely and Noah need a mother you have molded. A mature, God-fearing, self-controled, obedient, loving woman of God.
Lord, I pray my children will both desire a loving family throughout their lives. That they will create and nurture loving relationships. Further, I pray for them unity at home. Allow me to better direct them in this goal. Gentleness. Loving. Self-controlled. Patience. Peaceful.
Amen."
This was a bittersweet finding. I can not comprehend how fulfilling it will be to meet my Father face-to-face and know full well that He understood the intentions of my heart.
Lord, I pray my children will both desire a loving family throughout their lives. That they will create and nurture loving relationships. Further, I pray for them unity at home. Allow me to better direct them in this goal. Gentleness. Loving. Self-controlled. Patience. Peaceful.
Amen."
This was a bittersweet finding. I can not comprehend how fulfilling it will be to meet my Father face-to-face and know full well that He understood the intentions of my heart.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Bedtime
We are still struggling with bedtimes. I am quite a bit more successful at getting the boys to lay down just after 9pm, and most of the time they fall asleep right away. In fact, even if I am falling behind in schedule, their behavior reminds me it is near bedtime so clearly their body's are becoming accustomed.
Unfortunately however, they only sleep for about three or four hours and then are up, demanding to be out of bed. Urgh.
I am typically the first one out of bed, even though I am always the last one to bed. Getting everyone out of bed early is really challenging for me. I am finding fewer demands lately that keep me up way past bedtime (although it is currently 0330 and I am trying to finish up charting and billing in the office). Hopefully in the next few months I can master this routine and create a strong influence on Samuel and Simon's biological clock.
I am well aware that their not sleeping well affects their temper tantrums, hyperactivity, growth, health and even learning. It even affects their security and confidence. Routines create security.
Samuel is no longer taking a nap, although Simon still needs two most days.
I am so much more productive in the evening, a typical procrastinator, so Lord willing - I'll start to dim the activity towards bedtime as we make these changes. We have started the bath together every evening, which has proven a great transition. Brush teeth. Diaper and pajamas and a book.
We eat dinner way too late and this is another task I need to take back control. Keely has done the vast majority of the cooking since Lyric passed away. She is a slob when she cooks and destroys my kitchen. When I clean, I tend to start up-stairs so I know that the dirt is going down and everything behind me is clean. This often means the kitchen gets the least of my attention and the dining room is the dumping station. These two rooms though are exactly what our company sees each time they visit. I am so thoroughly happy when the kitchen is clean and because I am a multi-tasker, when I cook, I clean. This is only a win-win because we'll be eating better meals as well (not because I cook better than Keely, but because I plan ahead and therefore have more balanced meals).
I genuinely look forward to baking bread and I've decided no more desserts or cookies or anything baked from the store. If we want to splurge, it must be homemade.
I need to be sure the kids are thoroughly active through the day as well. Mostly they are and they don't tend to watch much TV unless they are eating in the kitchen. I absolutely adore watching them play outside and look forward to the spring and summer. (I sure hope we can get a deck built this summer!)
That's the plan. Pray for restful nights for my boys.
Unfortunately however, they only sleep for about three or four hours and then are up, demanding to be out of bed. Urgh.
I am typically the first one out of bed, even though I am always the last one to bed. Getting everyone out of bed early is really challenging for me. I am finding fewer demands lately that keep me up way past bedtime (although it is currently 0330 and I am trying to finish up charting and billing in the office). Hopefully in the next few months I can master this routine and create a strong influence on Samuel and Simon's biological clock.
I am well aware that their not sleeping well affects their temper tantrums, hyperactivity, growth, health and even learning. It even affects their security and confidence. Routines create security.
Samuel is no longer taking a nap, although Simon still needs two most days.
I am so much more productive in the evening, a typical procrastinator, so Lord willing - I'll start to dim the activity towards bedtime as we make these changes. We have started the bath together every evening, which has proven a great transition. Brush teeth. Diaper and pajamas and a book.
We eat dinner way too late and this is another task I need to take back control. Keely has done the vast majority of the cooking since Lyric passed away. She is a slob when she cooks and destroys my kitchen. When I clean, I tend to start up-stairs so I know that the dirt is going down and everything behind me is clean. This often means the kitchen gets the least of my attention and the dining room is the dumping station. These two rooms though are exactly what our company sees each time they visit. I am so thoroughly happy when the kitchen is clean and because I am a multi-tasker, when I cook, I clean. This is only a win-win because we'll be eating better meals as well (not because I cook better than Keely, but because I plan ahead and therefore have more balanced meals).
I genuinely look forward to baking bread and I've decided no more desserts or cookies or anything baked from the store. If we want to splurge, it must be homemade.
I need to be sure the kids are thoroughly active through the day as well. Mostly they are and they don't tend to watch much TV unless they are eating in the kitchen. I absolutely adore watching them play outside and look forward to the spring and summer. (I sure hope we can get a deck built this summer!)
That's the plan. Pray for restful nights for my boys.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Undergoing so I can Overcome
I'll admit that since I've had awareness of God's existence, I have prayed for Him to allow me to glorify Him. Use ME! As a child, I thought He would allow me to grow up to be Super Woman. As a young adult, I was prayerful I would become a suffering missionary. In my third decade, I have come to realize that all my trials and tribulations have been the answers to my prayers. How can I become a conqueror for God, if I have nothing to conquer? I can not overcome, if I don't undergo! The Lord's will is for me to stand on top. I sense the Holy Spirit's presence during Lyric's anniversary dates and He whispers to me, "You Won!"
What I am now working to wrap my brain around is that it is our human nature to think, I've paid my dues. I am good to go. Life shouldn't be so tough from here on out. However, if I remain in the will of God, I'll have more mountains to stand on top of, to conquer for Christ, which also means I'll have to undergo more trials.
Does that mean, as a close friend of mine once spoke to me, that I bring these trials on myself? No one really is given a life like Job. Well, I guess I can respond, "I hope so." I hope I live a life that allows the Lord to trust in me, to trust that I am genuine in my faith, and that I'll be obedient particularly when it is hard. I hope that when I face trials, I can praise Him and persevere with great endurance. I do prayerfully seek His glory, just please Lord, don't kill me...yet.
What I am now working to wrap my brain around is that it is our human nature to think, I've paid my dues. I am good to go. Life shouldn't be so tough from here on out. However, if I remain in the will of God, I'll have more mountains to stand on top of, to conquer for Christ, which also means I'll have to undergo more trials.
Does that mean, as a close friend of mine once spoke to me, that I bring these trials on myself? No one really is given a life like Job. Well, I guess I can respond, "I hope so." I hope I live a life that allows the Lord to trust in me, to trust that I am genuine in my faith, and that I'll be obedient particularly when it is hard. I hope that when I face trials, I can praise Him and persevere with great endurance. I do prayerfully seek His glory, just please Lord, don't kill me...yet.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Revelation
I am thrilled that I am getting comments from some serious intellects! Love it! There are a few I'll have to come back to...vaccinations...female circumcision...and my previous Revelation post, so stay tuned. I wanted to share a bit more however, of what the Lord has revealed to me through studying Revelation.
I identify with John. I spent many years pleading to be of use to God only instead to be left wondering why I was so isolated. I questioned why the persecution I had faced hadn't killed me? Why did I have to continue in this world, like the energizer bunny, if he wasn't going to use me or take me home and relieve me of my misery? I knew in every dust particle of my being that I had a calling and I was eager to obey. Why did I feel so useless and broken? I was so incredibly homesick, stuck on my own island of Patmos.
He never left me like an orphan. He was there with me, held me as His child. I felt His presence throughout, but I wanted desperately to bring Him glory, desperately. I felt so completely useless and lonely in this world that I became so heavenly focused, that I was no earthly good. What I needed to focus my mind on is living a life that attracts revelation, even in the simple things. What I hadn't realized is that I was walking from tribulation to kingdom bliss and in the meantime needed to apply some patience.
One of my previous commentators discussed having a relationship with Christ and not depending on fellowship within the church, which often time is far from righteousness. Amen, sister! The Lord is found in worship and in the spirit and just like Christ, we need to seek Him when no one is looking. Christ was seeking God while everyone else was falling asleep! I think an important point to is that our Lord is a Lord of relationships. Times are going to get tough for Christians. I don't think it is entirely wise to disconnect. The community will turn against us and being separated from the church might isolate us more than God intended. There are many reasons people, even Godly people, avoid church but most often these are "rib issues" and not salvation issues. They don't represent issues in the spine of our faith. Jesus Christ cares deeply about the church.
My cause of separating myself from those that frequent the more typical brick-and-mortar church is because my ministry is still misunderstood or ignored by those that congregate there. The church we were "raised within," as well as the church we are currently members rejects all that the Lord has put in my heart. I feel a bit beaten and torn down. As a mother as well, I am often judged as a working professional who has selfishly applied her attention outside the home, rather than a family who has recognized their mission and stepped out in faith. If I were doing the same work in another country, we would be praised by our brothers and sisters. To attempt to make churches aware of their blind spot right here in my own backyard is a bit too John the Baptist, I suppose, for many churches comfort. The Lord is giving me just enough light so I know my next step; however, I have on my heart a great deal of reconciliation in my future. Part of that is letting go of bitterness that has separated me from communion.
I have learned too that walking in the spirit is a decision. It is quite easy to walk in the flesh. In fact, I think we default to walking in our sinful ways. Through my grief there were many times that I felt so desperate that insanity knocked on my door. The Holy Spirit was aggressive with me and would quickly direct me to have the Lord clear my mind, to stand up and to walk...anywhere, but away from falling over the edge. It is rather amazing to come up from your knees and realize how great the Lord is, great enough to deliver me from such darkness and where I've been, the depth of that darkness, trust me, that takes a rather enormous God.
I've shared on my blog before some of my "God Moments" and while those are precious, validating and so incredibly encouraging, I am realizing as I read Revelation that I haven't had near the reverence for them as I should. There are those times we meet God daily, times that we are awed by His greatness, moments of transfiguration, revelations of His suffering, and sights of glorification...but did I ever grasp how truly HOLY it is for God to go out of HIS WAY to REVEAL HIMSELF TO ME!?!
This week in our mid-week Bible study our leader shared a smidgen of his testimony, most of which I missed as I tended to children, but I believe he shared an up-bringing within the church and a loving family. Every other member had been saved as an adult, which as a very humble man seemed to maybe intimidate him a bit. I found his perspective very enlightening because he said his faith never had a transforming moment; he couldn't identify the moment his ground was shaken in realization that Christ consumed his heart.
He also shared that he found "Adult Christians" often dove into the Bible seeking truth and understanding after their heart caught fire for the Lord, but his own learning was more of immersion through the church teachings. He sort of questioned if he had the Biblical knowledge to lead our group. Can he whip out reference scriptures as maybe an "adult Christian" might? The irony is that had I known his background before having such thought-provoking conversations, I potentially never would have considered gathering together for study. What would I have to offer a sister or brother that began their walk decades before myself? It's intimidating to share my own testimony and to reveal a background of great unHoliness, which I still continue to battle daily. I don't want to humiliate myself.
Christians are at risk of becoming too loyal with their doctrine that they talk them self right out of a new revelation. There's a lot of Bible and maybe the beauty in God gifting some of His children with faith later in life, is that they challenge those with life-long conceptions? Not one of us have enough wisdom and knowledge to assume we will not be altered by studying the Word. On the other hand, I would argue that "Adult Christians" can sometimes dig into the scripture so diligently that they are almost unweaving the rainbow. They fail to just behold the beauty of the Word. Maybe I need to be humiliated and maybe he's in for some perspective! Maybe he will cause me to just be still and breathe.
This is getting lengthy, but I can't help but share a new vision I have of the Lord as John describes him in Revelation 1:12-18. His voice like the sound of rushing waters -- and not a peaceful trickle of water, but like standing behind a forceful gorging waterfall. I have no doubt this sound would cause each of us to quickly cover our ears and gasp at the consuming rush. Out of His mouth came a double-edged sword -- what does that mean? Does that mean that the Lord doesn't have to call legends of angels, flood the earth, bring fire to the land, or torment to end all humankind, but that just as He said, "Let there be light" and there was light, he can say Drop Dead and it will be done? No joke. He is that great. We will loose the power to disobey, each and everyone of us.
Though Christ is highly exalted, He still leans down and touches me. He is The I Am.
I identify with John. I spent many years pleading to be of use to God only instead to be left wondering why I was so isolated. I questioned why the persecution I had faced hadn't killed me? Why did I have to continue in this world, like the energizer bunny, if he wasn't going to use me or take me home and relieve me of my misery? I knew in every dust particle of my being that I had a calling and I was eager to obey. Why did I feel so useless and broken? I was so incredibly homesick, stuck on my own island of Patmos.
He never left me like an orphan. He was there with me, held me as His child. I felt His presence throughout, but I wanted desperately to bring Him glory, desperately. I felt so completely useless and lonely in this world that I became so heavenly focused, that I was no earthly good. What I needed to focus my mind on is living a life that attracts revelation, even in the simple things. What I hadn't realized is that I was walking from tribulation to kingdom bliss and in the meantime needed to apply some patience.
One of my previous commentators discussed having a relationship with Christ and not depending on fellowship within the church, which often time is far from righteousness. Amen, sister! The Lord is found in worship and in the spirit and just like Christ, we need to seek Him when no one is looking. Christ was seeking God while everyone else was falling asleep! I think an important point to is that our Lord is a Lord of relationships. Times are going to get tough for Christians. I don't think it is entirely wise to disconnect. The community will turn against us and being separated from the church might isolate us more than God intended. There are many reasons people, even Godly people, avoid church but most often these are "rib issues" and not salvation issues. They don't represent issues in the spine of our faith. Jesus Christ cares deeply about the church.
My cause of separating myself from those that frequent the more typical brick-and-mortar church is because my ministry is still misunderstood or ignored by those that congregate there. The church we were "raised within," as well as the church we are currently members rejects all that the Lord has put in my heart. I feel a bit beaten and torn down. As a mother as well, I am often judged as a working professional who has selfishly applied her attention outside the home, rather than a family who has recognized their mission and stepped out in faith. If I were doing the same work in another country, we would be praised by our brothers and sisters. To attempt to make churches aware of their blind spot right here in my own backyard is a bit too John the Baptist, I suppose, for many churches comfort. The Lord is giving me just enough light so I know my next step; however, I have on my heart a great deal of reconciliation in my future. Part of that is letting go of bitterness that has separated me from communion.
I have learned too that walking in the spirit is a decision. It is quite easy to walk in the flesh. In fact, I think we default to walking in our sinful ways. Through my grief there were many times that I felt so desperate that insanity knocked on my door. The Holy Spirit was aggressive with me and would quickly direct me to have the Lord clear my mind, to stand up and to walk...anywhere, but away from falling over the edge. It is rather amazing to come up from your knees and realize how great the Lord is, great enough to deliver me from such darkness and where I've been, the depth of that darkness, trust me, that takes a rather enormous God.
I've shared on my blog before some of my "God Moments" and while those are precious, validating and so incredibly encouraging, I am realizing as I read Revelation that I haven't had near the reverence for them as I should. There are those times we meet God daily, times that we are awed by His greatness, moments of transfiguration, revelations of His suffering, and sights of glorification...but did I ever grasp how truly HOLY it is for God to go out of HIS WAY to REVEAL HIMSELF TO ME!?!
This week in our mid-week Bible study our leader shared a smidgen of his testimony, most of which I missed as I tended to children, but I believe he shared an up-bringing within the church and a loving family. Every other member had been saved as an adult, which as a very humble man seemed to maybe intimidate him a bit. I found his perspective very enlightening because he said his faith never had a transforming moment; he couldn't identify the moment his ground was shaken in realization that Christ consumed his heart.
He also shared that he found "Adult Christians" often dove into the Bible seeking truth and understanding after their heart caught fire for the Lord, but his own learning was more of immersion through the church teachings. He sort of questioned if he had the Biblical knowledge to lead our group. Can he whip out reference scriptures as maybe an "adult Christian" might? The irony is that had I known his background before having such thought-provoking conversations, I potentially never would have considered gathering together for study. What would I have to offer a sister or brother that began their walk decades before myself? It's intimidating to share my own testimony and to reveal a background of great unHoliness, which I still continue to battle daily. I don't want to humiliate myself.
Christians are at risk of becoming too loyal with their doctrine that they talk them self right out of a new revelation. There's a lot of Bible and maybe the beauty in God gifting some of His children with faith later in life, is that they challenge those with life-long conceptions? Not one of us have enough wisdom and knowledge to assume we will not be altered by studying the Word. On the other hand, I would argue that "Adult Christians" can sometimes dig into the scripture so diligently that they are almost unweaving the rainbow. They fail to just behold the beauty of the Word. Maybe I need to be humiliated and maybe he's in for some perspective! Maybe he will cause me to just be still and breathe.
This is getting lengthy, but I can't help but share a new vision I have of the Lord as John describes him in Revelation 1:12-18. His voice like the sound of rushing waters -- and not a peaceful trickle of water, but like standing behind a forceful gorging waterfall. I have no doubt this sound would cause each of us to quickly cover our ears and gasp at the consuming rush. Out of His mouth came a double-edged sword -- what does that mean? Does that mean that the Lord doesn't have to call legends of angels, flood the earth, bring fire to the land, or torment to end all humankind, but that just as He said, "Let there be light" and there was light, he can say Drop Dead and it will be done? No joke. He is that great. We will loose the power to disobey, each and everyone of us.
Though Christ is highly exalted, He still leans down and touches me. He is The I Am.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Six Years
September 5th marks six years of missing Lyric. The Lord continues to wrap His arms around us, reminding us He still remembers. I think this year I've had a bit of revelation as to part of why we had to suffer.
I think we all have an Exodus in our life and mine was Lyric's birth and death. Loosing my son allowed me to escape my Egypt. My life now is evidence that God has been good to me and that I am loved. What more can anyone ask of their life, that they can say the Lord has been faithful? This journey has been a painful one, but I see more everyday how the Lord has been glorified.
I also realize that the Lord has answered my greatest prayer, that my mother would find healing from the guilt she has harbored for so long. I believed her salvation would bring that peace, but I understand now that while my personality is really hard for her to bear, it wasn't entirely me that she rejected. It was what I reminded her of. She needed relief. She needed to escape me for true healing. Lyric's death provided that for both of us. I was freed from the rejection and she was freed from her guilt. We'll find healing and the Lord, the Great Comforter, will bring reconciliation in His perfect timing.
Coming through the persecution has also been quite revealing to me. Psychological persecution is rather intense and I think also one of Satan's most powerful weapons. I was taught well through our grief that we are alone in Christ and that the world will turn their back on you. They will judge you and call you stupid. I still, prayerfully, have no regrets with our decisions and to be frank, I think birthing Lyric at home was still the most obedient walk I have ever offered the Lord. It's painful, but now as I face what might also be a dose of psychological persecution as a homebirth midwife, I can't help but find great peace. It is sort of validation that I am on the right path...still.
Where am I headed this next year? I am searching my heart. I am ready to find joy in the Lord, peace, forgiveness, renewed strength. I have been blessed with contentment for the first time in my life. I have been freed. I am praying the Lord will bring me back into fellowship within His church.
I think we all have an Exodus in our life and mine was Lyric's birth and death. Loosing my son allowed me to escape my Egypt. My life now is evidence that God has been good to me and that I am loved. What more can anyone ask of their life, that they can say the Lord has been faithful? This journey has been a painful one, but I see more everyday how the Lord has been glorified.
I also realize that the Lord has answered my greatest prayer, that my mother would find healing from the guilt she has harbored for so long. I believed her salvation would bring that peace, but I understand now that while my personality is really hard for her to bear, it wasn't entirely me that she rejected. It was what I reminded her of. She needed relief. She needed to escape me for true healing. Lyric's death provided that for both of us. I was freed from the rejection and she was freed from her guilt. We'll find healing and the Lord, the Great Comforter, will bring reconciliation in His perfect timing.
Coming through the persecution has also been quite revealing to me. Psychological persecution is rather intense and I think also one of Satan's most powerful weapons. I was taught well through our grief that we are alone in Christ and that the world will turn their back on you. They will judge you and call you stupid. I still, prayerfully, have no regrets with our decisions and to be frank, I think birthing Lyric at home was still the most obedient walk I have ever offered the Lord. It's painful, but now as I face what might also be a dose of psychological persecution as a homebirth midwife, I can't help but find great peace. It is sort of validation that I am on the right path...still.
Where am I headed this next year? I am searching my heart. I am ready to find joy in the Lord, peace, forgiveness, renewed strength. I have been blessed with contentment for the first time in my life. I have been freed. I am praying the Lord will bring me back into fellowship within His church.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Another Cookie Crumb
Since my son's death, I have asked the Lord for understanding. He has been faithful, merciful, and provided me a crumb, but no more than a crumb and not until the exact moment He desired. Each time I was also reminded to be a big girl and use that crumb to understand His Love, His Protection and His Will rather than let the painful truths of this world conquer me. He makes continually clear that He has a job for me and expects me to stay on task, in faith.
Today, the crumb I was provided came through a client's journey through her pregnancy and birth. I'll admit that each of my clients are rather special and I treasure nothing more than just sitting and getting to know them, but this particular couple I genuinely wish we could have weekly devotions together. Great thinkers. Inspiring. Faithful. Accountable. The Lord has blessed me with a few of those people in my life lately.
This couple, who I have never met prior to our initial interview, is within the social group I found such refuge prior to my son's death. I have shared on my blog before that the church my husband and I were baptized in was a genuine saving grace for us. The minister was phenomenal and still one of my most favorite people. The years I spent serving in that church are truly some of the most precious moments of my life. We moved a bit too north to stay actively involved so sought out another church during my pregnancy with Lyric, yet still thought of them as our family. Ironically, only two people from the church, none from my mid-week Bible study group, came to our son's funeral and we were a bit dumbfounded.
They were our only family and we were rather surprised to have been so forgotten in such a short time period. We never really returned to this church because honestly, I feared I harbored some bitterness. It was painful and I had no ability to understand their abandonment. However, I was also well aware of how I can be a person of good intentions and clearly have let way more people down than I care to admit. Over the years, I have simply come to remember that time in our life as where the Lord chose to put a fire under me as a baby Christian. I am grateful but clearly, their vision of me must remain that of a baby Christian.
As this client's pregnancy has progressed we have shared sweet memories about particular people in the church and they have briefly shared some of their struggles as others have persecuted their decision to birth at home with a midwife. I wasn't surprised as I was pursuing midwifery while a member there and was told by my spiritual mentor that she thought midwifery was crazy, "Why would any woman want to birth without an epidural! I wanted mine immediately!" I was speechless that this particular women, who I had viewed as the epiphany of faithful living, was blind to her own idol. She was completely unaware that she was pushing the Lord out of her pregnancy and birthing experiences. I think that was genuinely the first time I realized that Great Spiritual Mentors are also, human. My eyes needed to remain in the Word and from that point forward, they did.
This particular family I met with today had a fabulous pregnancy, a beautiful birth, and a joyful postpartum experience. They are bathing in the blessing the Lord has promised them for their faithful obedience. (Not that homebirth is His will for everyone, but it was for this family and they followed in complete faith facing the persecution with great honor.)
Today, the family met yet another persecutor and I think Dad was searching for a tiny bit of validation that his faith wasn't blind or prideful. He was seeking more truth to better understand the Lord's direction. I think He left even more on fire after our visit and I am grateful the Lord continues to demonstrate that He has every tiny speckle of my life covered. I don't want to share too much of the revelations I was offered today and appear to dishonor any particular sister in Christ, but I was reminded that faith is a spiritual gift.
There have been many times in my spiritual walk that I have been judged for not serving enough, not giving enough, not being a shepherd or teacher, but I know that the Lord has blessed me abundantly with faith and with encouragement. I know this also means that while I am no more gifted at service, there are others of little faith. They are no less in love with the Lord as I. However, this also means that my line of work terrifies them. It means that my faith can intimidate them, just as I can be intimidated by their acts of service. It reminds me that as long as I am in the will of God, I can expect to be persecuted as Christ was and is...and that I will remain separated from the world...I will seek His Holiness.
Thank-you Sarah for reminding me that my presence isn't always what others reject, but the memory and pain I might bring them in remembering our tragedy. Please bring peace to those that still harbor fear because of Lyric's death.
Thank-you Friends for reminding me that the Lord will use a single thread to guide you, like a bumper magnet, and what He asks is to be sensitive to His voice. Please sharpen my awareness to the Holy Spirit so that I can remain in Your will at all times.
Thank-you Lord for reminding me that you will always have my back. Thank-you for understanding me, for loving me, for lifting my burdens and for providing me such peace. Thank-you for teaching me. Thank-you for forgiving me and most importantly, thank-you for gifting me with faith in your saving grace.
Today, the crumb I was provided came through a client's journey through her pregnancy and birth. I'll admit that each of my clients are rather special and I treasure nothing more than just sitting and getting to know them, but this particular couple I genuinely wish we could have weekly devotions together. Great thinkers. Inspiring. Faithful. Accountable. The Lord has blessed me with a few of those people in my life lately.
This couple, who I have never met prior to our initial interview, is within the social group I found such refuge prior to my son's death. I have shared on my blog before that the church my husband and I were baptized in was a genuine saving grace for us. The minister was phenomenal and still one of my most favorite people. The years I spent serving in that church are truly some of the most precious moments of my life. We moved a bit too north to stay actively involved so sought out another church during my pregnancy with Lyric, yet still thought of them as our family. Ironically, only two people from the church, none from my mid-week Bible study group, came to our son's funeral and we were a bit dumbfounded.
They were our only family and we were rather surprised to have been so forgotten in such a short time period. We never really returned to this church because honestly, I feared I harbored some bitterness. It was painful and I had no ability to understand their abandonment. However, I was also well aware of how I can be a person of good intentions and clearly have let way more people down than I care to admit. Over the years, I have simply come to remember that time in our life as where the Lord chose to put a fire under me as a baby Christian. I am grateful but clearly, their vision of me must remain that of a baby Christian.
As this client's pregnancy has progressed we have shared sweet memories about particular people in the church and they have briefly shared some of their struggles as others have persecuted their decision to birth at home with a midwife. I wasn't surprised as I was pursuing midwifery while a member there and was told by my spiritual mentor that she thought midwifery was crazy, "Why would any woman want to birth without an epidural! I wanted mine immediately!" I was speechless that this particular women, who I had viewed as the epiphany of faithful living, was blind to her own idol. She was completely unaware that she was pushing the Lord out of her pregnancy and birthing experiences. I think that was genuinely the first time I realized that Great Spiritual Mentors are also, human. My eyes needed to remain in the Word and from that point forward, they did.
This particular family I met with today had a fabulous pregnancy, a beautiful birth, and a joyful postpartum experience. They are bathing in the blessing the Lord has promised them for their faithful obedience. (Not that homebirth is His will for everyone, but it was for this family and they followed in complete faith facing the persecution with great honor.)
Today, the family met yet another persecutor and I think Dad was searching for a tiny bit of validation that his faith wasn't blind or prideful. He was seeking more truth to better understand the Lord's direction. I think He left even more on fire after our visit and I am grateful the Lord continues to demonstrate that He has every tiny speckle of my life covered. I don't want to share too much of the revelations I was offered today and appear to dishonor any particular sister in Christ, but I was reminded that faith is a spiritual gift.
There have been many times in my spiritual walk that I have been judged for not serving enough, not giving enough, not being a shepherd or teacher, but I know that the Lord has blessed me abundantly with faith and with encouragement. I know this also means that while I am no more gifted at service, there are others of little faith. They are no less in love with the Lord as I. However, this also means that my line of work terrifies them. It means that my faith can intimidate them, just as I can be intimidated by their acts of service. It reminds me that as long as I am in the will of God, I can expect to be persecuted as Christ was and is...and that I will remain separated from the world...I will seek His Holiness.
Thank-you Sarah for reminding me that my presence isn't always what others reject, but the memory and pain I might bring them in remembering our tragedy. Please bring peace to those that still harbor fear because of Lyric's death.
Thank-you Friends for reminding me that the Lord will use a single thread to guide you, like a bumper magnet, and what He asks is to be sensitive to His voice. Please sharpen my awareness to the Holy Spirit so that I can remain in Your will at all times.
Thank-you Lord for reminding me that you will always have my back. Thank-you for understanding me, for loving me, for lifting my burdens and for providing me such peace. Thank-you for teaching me. Thank-you for forgiving me and most importantly, thank-you for gifting me with faith in your saving grace.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Reconciliation
I was listening to KLOVE the other night and a woman was sharing about her relationship with her mother, not at all good. What surprised me was the perspective of both the radio host and this lady regarding reconciliation of their relationship. Often Christians assume their sisters or brothers in Christ aren't in the will of God if they have a broken relationship. However, reconciliation takes two people. Forgiveness is the act of one person and is the expectation of our Father.
My entire life I have felt empathy for my mother. I have shared that in many previous posts. I sort of identified in some ways and really understood, desperately wanted more for her. She however was never able to accept that and seemed to always misunderstand my intentions. I am not sure if my personality was just hard for her to embrace or if she was too prideful to accept my grace or if potentially her behavior, her drugs and alcohol, caused a genuine amnesia regarding her mothering. However, her hatred grew, peaking with the death of my son and the Lord used this separation to heal me and deepen my faith.
The KLOVE guest speaker shared that she had a separation too that removed her from the relationship and her desire to change her mother. The time apart allowed her to grow, learn and heal which would not have occurred within the troubled union. The Lord shares in His Word, ...As much as you are able, be at peace with everyone.
Peace is not always available. But, I can apply grace, mercy, forgiveness and compassion which gives me as much peace in my relationships as I am able. I can pray too, for their own peace and then wait for the Lord to bring reconciliation.
The last few months have brought both of my parents into my life a little bit more and my perspective is so very much different. I can genuinely meet them where they are, with expectations of nothing else. This means I've had to let go of that All-American dream for unconditional love from my parents. To be frank, the Lord has filled that desperate need for their love. Everything else is simply a bonus. For the first time, I can see reconciliation on this side of heaven. I think my friendships will dance to a new tune in the future as well.
My entire life I have felt empathy for my mother. I have shared that in many previous posts. I sort of identified in some ways and really understood, desperately wanted more for her. She however was never able to accept that and seemed to always misunderstand my intentions. I am not sure if my personality was just hard for her to embrace or if she was too prideful to accept my grace or if potentially her behavior, her drugs and alcohol, caused a genuine amnesia regarding her mothering. However, her hatred grew, peaking with the death of my son and the Lord used this separation to heal me and deepen my faith.
The KLOVE guest speaker shared that she had a separation too that removed her from the relationship and her desire to change her mother. The time apart allowed her to grow, learn and heal which would not have occurred within the troubled union. The Lord shares in His Word, ...As much as you are able, be at peace with everyone.
Peace is not always available. But, I can apply grace, mercy, forgiveness and compassion which gives me as much peace in my relationships as I am able. I can pray too, for their own peace and then wait for the Lord to bring reconciliation.
The last few months have brought both of my parents into my life a little bit more and my perspective is so very much different. I can genuinely meet them where they are, with expectations of nothing else. This means I've had to let go of that All-American dream for unconditional love from my parents. To be frank, the Lord has filled that desperate need for their love. Everything else is simply a bonus. For the first time, I can see reconciliation on this side of heaven. I think my friendships will dance to a new tune in the future as well.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
The Love of a Mother
When Keely was a baby, I distinctly remember thinking she was the absolute most beautiful baby in the world. I genuinely believed when I paraded her through the neighborhood in her stroller or through the shopping malls with her tucked in my front carrier that everyone else also believed this same truth, after all she did receive countless complements.
Then Noah was born. Everyone thought he was so expressive and joyful. He was so incredibly chubby and of course, completely spoiled because of it. I knew then that these two fabulous, gorgeous, sweety-pies were not in anyway evident of my parenting or genes, but rather gifts the Lord had given to me far beyond what I ever deserved.
Lyric was born with Mike's pointy elbows and webbed toes, which he has always hated about himself. He was so self-conscience that he would be mindful of bending his arms and his elbows sticking out causing someone to notice. When he saw these traits in his son, he longed to see those toes in flip flops. Lyric even had his crooked nose. It is amazing how parents dream of how their children might look and in a blink of an eye, you hold your baby for the first time and your breath is taken away by their perfection. Never did my imagination craft such beauty.
Keely and I would often ooh and ahh over Samuel when he was a baby. We would just sit and stare and giggle. I would tease her and say, "Get a good look at him. Your kids won't be this cute." (Tsk. Tsk. Giggle.) He is so incredibly photogenic. I honestly look at the picture of him on the sidebar of this blog, his chubby cheeks, radiant eyes and voluptuous lips and know with complete certainty that he is absolutely gorgeous. Isn't it amazing, the confident love of a mother?
Simon, my goodness. He has completely stolen our hearts. He too is very expressive like Noah, but in a completely different way. His smiles are so completely adorable and my, the Lord can pack a lot of chub on a child that I never, ever realized could be so precious. He has months worth of milk stored in those thighs. I don't know how people resist biting him. I just want to eat him up. Him and Noah both have the tightest little spiral crowns that make them just as adorable going, as coming.
This is the beauty of being a mother. You are given an opportunity to feel a love that extends light years beyond any other, a glimpse of genuinely perfect love. I simply can't imagine my heavenly relationship with my Father if this love and my seeing absolute bite-able perfection in my babies is just a glimpse of that relationship.
My husband too, that is another love entirely. I remember when we were first married I would watch him sleep and try to memorize the angles of his face and his perfect manly smell. I knew I wouldn't have him forever and it is simply beyond me to think that he won't be my husband in heaven. I remember being cautious not to idolize my husband, as I sunk deep into that love and security. It is simply inconceivable that our Father's love makes this love minute... earthly. I simply can't imagine anything more perfect and wow, how I praise our Lord. I am so incredibly thankful for this glimpse and awestruck by the understanding that there shall be much greater love than this.
Then Noah was born. Everyone thought he was so expressive and joyful. He was so incredibly chubby and of course, completely spoiled because of it. I knew then that these two fabulous, gorgeous, sweety-pies were not in anyway evident of my parenting or genes, but rather gifts the Lord had given to me far beyond what I ever deserved.
Lyric was born with Mike's pointy elbows and webbed toes, which he has always hated about himself. He was so self-conscience that he would be mindful of bending his arms and his elbows sticking out causing someone to notice. When he saw these traits in his son, he longed to see those toes in flip flops. Lyric even had his crooked nose. It is amazing how parents dream of how their children might look and in a blink of an eye, you hold your baby for the first time and your breath is taken away by their perfection. Never did my imagination craft such beauty.
Keely and I would often ooh and ahh over Samuel when he was a baby. We would just sit and stare and giggle. I would tease her and say, "Get a good look at him. Your kids won't be this cute." (Tsk. Tsk. Giggle.) He is so incredibly photogenic. I honestly look at the picture of him on the sidebar of this blog, his chubby cheeks, radiant eyes and voluptuous lips and know with complete certainty that he is absolutely gorgeous. Isn't it amazing, the confident love of a mother?
Simon, my goodness. He has completely stolen our hearts. He too is very expressive like Noah, but in a completely different way. His smiles are so completely adorable and my, the Lord can pack a lot of chub on a child that I never, ever realized could be so precious. He has months worth of milk stored in those thighs. I don't know how people resist biting him. I just want to eat him up. Him and Noah both have the tightest little spiral crowns that make them just as adorable going, as coming.
This is the beauty of being a mother. You are given an opportunity to feel a love that extends light years beyond any other, a glimpse of genuinely perfect love. I simply can't imagine my heavenly relationship with my Father if this love and my seeing absolute bite-able perfection in my babies is just a glimpse of that relationship.
My husband too, that is another love entirely. I remember when we were first married I would watch him sleep and try to memorize the angles of his face and his perfect manly smell. I knew I wouldn't have him forever and it is simply beyond me to think that he won't be my husband in heaven. I remember being cautious not to idolize my husband, as I sunk deep into that love and security. It is simply inconceivable that our Father's love makes this love minute... earthly. I simply can't imagine anything more perfect and wow, how I praise our Lord. I am so incredibly thankful for this glimpse and awestruck by the understanding that there shall be much greater love than this.
Monday, January 18, 2010
A Voice
A friend of mine shared with me a link to Ian's Voice. She hesitated in doing so because she knew she risked causing tears and heartbreak. Her e-mail came many months ago and today I took a deep breath and followed the link, reading the blog and empathizing with Ian's parents.
Ian passed away after receiving the Hepatitis B vaccine. Devastating. His parents have given Ian a voice through educating parents on the risk of this vaccine, particularly when given to a newborn with a compromised immune system. Their testimony is reminder of how often we, as medical providers provide family informed consents that list the plethora of risks associated with various procedures, yet this is solely to avoid liability because "we" really don't allow them to decline our recommended therapy and if a reaction were to occur it would not be from the therapy or treatment itself but from some undiagnosed phenomenon. Worst case scenario, a reason to blame Mom or Dad would be crafted. Genuine truth. Not because medical providers are hateful and cruel, but because they have more faith in their interventions, than in the people they serve.
My son, Lyric, was stolen every opportunity to bring justice to his death. The coroner in Tippecanoe County was/is hostile to homebirth families and in spite of the organ procurement team having tested and prepared to harvest organs from my son upon his death, he prohibited their use. He had no other reason than to punish me and when I asked IOPA if that was even legal, she said, "Unfortunately, yes, Indiana legislature does allow coroners to be assholes." This is a legislative argument that I had no idea how to pursue at the time.
It seems each time I visioned a glimmer of light that might reflect on the purpose of our loss, it was extinguished before it came to fruition. I did pump my breasts for ten months, donating gallons of milk per day to various donors, but that alone simply didn't provide peace I knew the Lord had in store for us.
While the truth will not be revealed to us until we gain revelation in heaven, we do know that our care providers were incompetent both in assessing fetal heart tones and in newborn resuscitation. Had they been sufficient, they might simply have rescued a little one from death yet not prevented life-long suffering from previous brain trauma he endured much earlier in my pregnancy. However, their incompetence, particularly following my diligence to provide a safe birth is hard to accept. My energy was immediately turned towards increasing homebirth standards with regards to intermittent fetal monitoring and neonatal resuscitation. My belief in homebirth has never wavered. Unfortunately, my efforts continued to hit walls and I soon fell into a grief that paralyzed me.
Since establishing my own midwifery practice, I have began to blossom. It seems I am more emotionally healthy now than I have ever been in my entire life, and happiest as well. (I'll save that for another post however.) Immediately upon establishing our practice guidelines, we began providing AAT assessments during labor with the intention of using this data at some point in the future as yet to be determined. My primary concern is that in my experience I have only witnessed midwives validating that fetal heart tones exist and at what rate they were heard, yet viability is only helpful for the next minute or two, but offers no information to the well-being of the fetus. This is a much more thorough process, yet minimally more intrusive.
This past year as well, I have taken the NRP instructor course and co-taught two courses specific to the out-of-hospital provider. It is astonishing to me just how much information needs to be catered to the very unique environment of the home, yet this very simple information is very attainable and at the same time considered "beyond the scope of a homebirth midwife" by most of my profession. I refuse to accept that a midwife can claim competency in providing birth assistance but lack the ability to secure an airway as any other birth attendant would provide in the hospital, including the midwife. If we can't provide the basic ABCs of emergency management, then why exactly do families hire us to attend their homebirths? This is fraudulent midwifery in my opinion.
Today the Lord provided me another gem. He continues to demonstrate to me a path that He has detailed every step of the way. I have no doubt that His path is more than I can vision today. I am eager, yet patient. I am preparing for His will and for Lyric's glory. Come what may.
Ian passed away after receiving the Hepatitis B vaccine. Devastating. His parents have given Ian a voice through educating parents on the risk of this vaccine, particularly when given to a newborn with a compromised immune system. Their testimony is reminder of how often we, as medical providers provide family informed consents that list the plethora of risks associated with various procedures, yet this is solely to avoid liability because "we" really don't allow them to decline our recommended therapy and if a reaction were to occur it would not be from the therapy or treatment itself but from some undiagnosed phenomenon. Worst case scenario, a reason to blame Mom or Dad would be crafted. Genuine truth. Not because medical providers are hateful and cruel, but because they have more faith in their interventions, than in the people they serve.
My son, Lyric, was stolen every opportunity to bring justice to his death. The coroner in Tippecanoe County was/is hostile to homebirth families and in spite of the organ procurement team having tested and prepared to harvest organs from my son upon his death, he prohibited their use. He had no other reason than to punish me and when I asked IOPA if that was even legal, she said, "Unfortunately, yes, Indiana legislature does allow coroners to be assholes." This is a legislative argument that I had no idea how to pursue at the time.
It seems each time I visioned a glimmer of light that might reflect on the purpose of our loss, it was extinguished before it came to fruition. I did pump my breasts for ten months, donating gallons of milk per day to various donors, but that alone simply didn't provide peace I knew the Lord had in store for us.
While the truth will not be revealed to us until we gain revelation in heaven, we do know that our care providers were incompetent both in assessing fetal heart tones and in newborn resuscitation. Had they been sufficient, they might simply have rescued a little one from death yet not prevented life-long suffering from previous brain trauma he endured much earlier in my pregnancy. However, their incompetence, particularly following my diligence to provide a safe birth is hard to accept. My energy was immediately turned towards increasing homebirth standards with regards to intermittent fetal monitoring and neonatal resuscitation. My belief in homebirth has never wavered. Unfortunately, my efforts continued to hit walls and I soon fell into a grief that paralyzed me.
Since establishing my own midwifery practice, I have began to blossom. It seems I am more emotionally healthy now than I have ever been in my entire life, and happiest as well. (I'll save that for another post however.) Immediately upon establishing our practice guidelines, we began providing AAT assessments during labor with the intention of using this data at some point in the future as yet to be determined. My primary concern is that in my experience I have only witnessed midwives validating that fetal heart tones exist and at what rate they were heard, yet viability is only helpful for the next minute or two, but offers no information to the well-being of the fetus. This is a much more thorough process, yet minimally more intrusive.
This past year as well, I have taken the NRP instructor course and co-taught two courses specific to the out-of-hospital provider. It is astonishing to me just how much information needs to be catered to the very unique environment of the home, yet this very simple information is very attainable and at the same time considered "beyond the scope of a homebirth midwife" by most of my profession. I refuse to accept that a midwife can claim competency in providing birth assistance but lack the ability to secure an airway as any other birth attendant would provide in the hospital, including the midwife. If we can't provide the basic ABCs of emergency management, then why exactly do families hire us to attend their homebirths? This is fraudulent midwifery in my opinion.
Today the Lord provided me another gem. He continues to demonstrate to me a path that He has detailed every step of the way. I have no doubt that His path is more than I can vision today. I am eager, yet patient. I am preparing for His will and for Lyric's glory. Come what may.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Forgiveness
I have been blessed with the ability to forgive many. I can't imagine a life of over whelming bitterness, hate and rage. I don't confess to have a heart that is without any need of forgiving, as there are still a few heartbreaks that I need to lay at the foot of the cross. Those aren't the sorrows or betrayers one would expect though. I suppose I've just neglected the "little things," like forgiving my high school band teacher or people in church who said cruel things after my son's death without realizing the insensitivity or even, the friend that proved to lack loyalty. Having forgiven those who left my son for dead, those who threw salt in our wounds, and those who spit in our face... well, it seems a bit ludicrous that I would neglect the need to forgive simple scratches along the way and risk being judged with such harshness at the pearly gates.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Reign on Me
Keely rented Reign On Me, a newer movie with Adam Sandler, and I must say it was absolutely fabulous. The lead part, played by Adam, is a man whose family was killed in the 9-11 plane crash and after their death he suffered severe post-traumatic stress disorder. A friend of his from college runs into him several years after reading about his story in the paper and befriends him, leading them both to healing. If he doesn't win an award, or two or three, for this performance I will forever be disappointed.
There are many points in the movie that are very enlightening, but what I think I identified most with is the antisocial behavior that is a natural part of grieving, yet so misunderstood and frankly, not tolerated. Having suffered a significant loss in my own life and feeling as if I have come through the depths of grief with the ability to stand in optimistic hope of tomorrow, I suppose in hindsight, I am rather surprised at just how much mental health I have retained. Having had a little background of depression and anxiety, I think it would have been easy to assume many years ago that this sort of tragedy could easily create a psychological mess within me. I'll admit that I sat many times at my son's grave with the deepest desire to just start digging with the single motivation to remove the horrible hospital blankets that he is currently wrapped within and to put a soft outfit on him or simply lay his skin next to my own fuzzy baby blanket. It took every fiber of my being to maintain some sanity.
I was very antisocial in my grief. I didn't call anyone. I didn't thank anyone (although I was very grateful). I didn't build relationships. I didn't return favors or reach out. I certainly never engaged in conversation and I rarely made eye contact, particularly in public. I stopped attending church regularly. I was so very broken, although maybe appeared healed to those around me. Maybe I appeared selfish. Today, still, I have to remind myself to make eye contact and I find myself very antisocial outside of any arena that is not midwifery related. My focus is still very much on my mission and if you aren't part of that mission, I tend to have an inability to commit to a relationship. Sad.
The grieving father in Reign On Me developed new relationships over time. None were from his past, at least the past he had shared with his wife and children. Those would have been threatening to him. Too close to home. Some of those friends and family members made assumptions. Some judged. It is funny how we often expect others to grieve and respond the same way we think we would ourselves and outside of that box is otherwise inappropriate. Two of his friends supported quietly and accepted his method and timeline for healing. They continued their loyalty in spite of the apparent one-sided relationship. They protected their friend. They found comfort in the uncomfortable. They endured selflessly.
I have been blessed with friends who continued to reach out to me even though I never returned a phone call. I have friends who continued to serve only my needs although never did I ask about their own life or support them in their own struggles. I know I exhausted many, and continue to. Thank-you.
I suppose I wonder if one ever recovers from the depths of grief as I know it? But...Is that such a horrible place to be? A place that confirms that I have loved to the depth of my soul, have leaned on nothing more than my Father's love, and have maintained faith enough to stand again? A place that while initially caused me to feel so incredibly homesick, more recently has provided enough conviction and dedication to finish my task, my calling? I live with purpose. Some may say too much purpose. I am grateful, but it does seem rather ironic just how antisocial one often has to become before they find enlightenment. I suppose in being still and quiet for that time, I did hear the breath of God. He gave me direction.
Good movie.
There are many points in the movie that are very enlightening, but what I think I identified most with is the antisocial behavior that is a natural part of grieving, yet so misunderstood and frankly, not tolerated. Having suffered a significant loss in my own life and feeling as if I have come through the depths of grief with the ability to stand in optimistic hope of tomorrow, I suppose in hindsight, I am rather surprised at just how much mental health I have retained. Having had a little background of depression and anxiety, I think it would have been easy to assume many years ago that this sort of tragedy could easily create a psychological mess within me. I'll admit that I sat many times at my son's grave with the deepest desire to just start digging with the single motivation to remove the horrible hospital blankets that he is currently wrapped within and to put a soft outfit on him or simply lay his skin next to my own fuzzy baby blanket. It took every fiber of my being to maintain some sanity.
I was very antisocial in my grief. I didn't call anyone. I didn't thank anyone (although I was very grateful). I didn't build relationships. I didn't return favors or reach out. I certainly never engaged in conversation and I rarely made eye contact, particularly in public. I stopped attending church regularly. I was so very broken, although maybe appeared healed to those around me. Maybe I appeared selfish. Today, still, I have to remind myself to make eye contact and I find myself very antisocial outside of any arena that is not midwifery related. My focus is still very much on my mission and if you aren't part of that mission, I tend to have an inability to commit to a relationship. Sad.
The grieving father in Reign On Me developed new relationships over time. None were from his past, at least the past he had shared with his wife and children. Those would have been threatening to him. Too close to home. Some of those friends and family members made assumptions. Some judged. It is funny how we often expect others to grieve and respond the same way we think we would ourselves and outside of that box is otherwise inappropriate. Two of his friends supported quietly and accepted his method and timeline for healing. They continued their loyalty in spite of the apparent one-sided relationship. They protected their friend. They found comfort in the uncomfortable. They endured selflessly.
I have been blessed with friends who continued to reach out to me even though I never returned a phone call. I have friends who continued to serve only my needs although never did I ask about their own life or support them in their own struggles. I know I exhausted many, and continue to. Thank-you.
I suppose I wonder if one ever recovers from the depths of grief as I know it? But...Is that such a horrible place to be? A place that confirms that I have loved to the depth of my soul, have leaned on nothing more than my Father's love, and have maintained faith enough to stand again? A place that while initially caused me to feel so incredibly homesick, more recently has provided enough conviction and dedication to finish my task, my calling? I live with purpose. Some may say too much purpose. I am grateful, but it does seem rather ironic just how antisocial one often has to become before they find enlightenment. I suppose in being still and quiet for that time, I did hear the breath of God. He gave me direction.
Good movie.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Picking Out our Christmas Tree
Last year we started a family tradition of choosing and cutting down our own Christmas Tree. This year we had almost every minute of every weekend planned, so we didn't get to Dull's Tree Farm until the second weekend into December. We went after Keely's Creating Hope girls meeting, so it was almost dark when we arrived (although prior to 6pm).
Then the kids and I went to pick out a grave blanket for Lyric. They were out of those too, but had compassion on our need for a baby blanket and special made one for us that we picked up the next day. It was huge and beautiful for just over $30.
That evening we decorated our Christmas tree with our Santa Clause ornaments and bubble lights. We put up a few of our decorations, but I do feel like I failed the kids this year. I typically have lots of decorations, lights on the house, homemade Christmas gifts, homemade hot chocolate and all sorts of Christmas delight. I didn't seem to get anything done this year! I think next year I might splurge and pay a professional team to hang lights on our house. I found some advertisement on Craigslist for that service, although they never responded. It would be well worth a little chunk of change to have a beautifully lit house for Christmas. I think the kids would appreciate it.
Mike grabbed the saw. Noah grabbed the tree trailer. I grabbed Simon and Keely held tight to Gus. Samuel was bouncing along the side of each of us, maybe more like bouncing off each of us like Tigger. There were no trees left over six foot and under six foot, there were fewer than twenty trees to choose from. Oh well! They were also cheaper too. We found a nice shaped tree with one bad side and thought we would just stick that side up against the wall.
Here he is lined up and ready to catch our Christmas tree! Noah never grumbled a single complaint and pulled that tree by himself all the way back up the hill, bouncing over numerous tree stumps along the way.
Then the kids and I went to pick out a grave blanket for Lyric. They were out of those too, but had compassion on our need for a baby blanket and special made one for us that we picked up the next day. It was huge and beautiful for just over $30.
That evening we decorated our Christmas tree with our Santa Clause ornaments and bubble lights. We put up a few of our decorations, but I do feel like I failed the kids this year. I typically have lots of decorations, lights on the house, homemade Christmas gifts, homemade hot chocolate and all sorts of Christmas delight. I didn't seem to get anything done this year! I think next year I might splurge and pay a professional team to hang lights on our house. I found some advertisement on Craigslist for that service, although they never responded. It would be well worth a little chunk of change to have a beautifully lit house for Christmas. I think the kids would appreciate it.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Jumping for Joy
Sunday, I caught another beautiful baby girl, who like nearly every single baby I've caught for the past three months, was born with the cord tangled tightly around her neck. Now this is common, but not this common. I was becoming a bit disheartened.
We typically know when a baby has a "nuchal cord," because as baby progresses through the birth canal and stretches the length of the cord, heart tones can drop. The midwife is then diligent in monitoring that the baby has reserve enough to endure the stress, which is evident when the fetal heart tones are back to baseline prior to the end of the contraction. A few accelerations in between are even more reassuring.
I am reminded each time I hear this scenario of the number of midwives that have caught stillborn babies and then in surprise state, "the heart tones were good throughout." I believe this is because they aren't listening through the contractions, but instead in between when it is most comfortable for mom. They aren't aware of the stress or baby's response to it. They are simply hearing baby recovered in between and ultimately, unaware of their transition from compensating to completely over-whelmed.
Several weeks ago, I caught a baby whose cord was wrapped three times around her neck. She progressed quickly through the birth canal of this first time mom, praise the Lord, because she clearly was challenged by some cord compression. Again, we were aware of the situation and were well prepared. APGARS were 2 and 9. I simply can't imagine having been so successful at resuscitating this baby, who I did have to initiate intubation for, had it not been for my nursing experience. This birth was so similar to my son's and thank-you Lord for preparing me. This little girl survived without sequela, the same scenario my son fail victim.
Image stolen from Lisa Barrett's fabulous blog: Midwife Mutany is South Australia
I appreciate the Lord continuing to validate my calling. I pray I am humble to his training. After sharing these scenarios and a bit of my anxiety with a new birth assistant, she responded that these babies were clearly jumping for joy at the news that their parents had decided to birth at home (causing the entanglement)! What a peaceful perspective. I choose to believe it.
Praise the Lord too for that fabulous umbilical cord that continues to supply rich oxygenated blood to these stunned babies after birth. I simply can't believe hospital providers continue to cut that lifeline!
Monday, December 7, 2009
Sitting in Darkness
Speechless... tears running down my face. Read the captions. Still miss my baby.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Santa Clause
Last night I was telling Samuel the story of Santa Clause. He has heard the kids talk and he did meet him the other day in the mall, so he has had some idea of what Santa Clause was about, but being only two, I sort of took for granted that he didn't really grasp the idea of Christmas morning.
I explained Santa would come down the chimney with his big bag of toys that he made special, just for Samuel. He would put them under the Christmas tree as Samuel slept and then he would wake up and have Christmas gifts to open. We listed toys he wanted...Elmo...cars...dinosaures...chips...Nemo...chips...
This morning Mike and I woke up and immediately began working on the bedroom. I pulled off all the paint I could reach and then went up-stairs for the vacuum. When I came back down I hear paper riping and I thought, "Wow! Mike is really getting busy." Then I realized, "OH NO!!" Downstairs Samuel was ripping through Christmas gifts under the tree. He had opened two of Noah's before I caught him.
Noah was thrilled though, rather than disappointed, because the two gifts were more pieces to the Christmas village he collects. The boys took them up-stairs and set them up. The anticipation of tomorrow is growing by the moment! Tonight we'll discuss Christ's birthday and see what Samuel learns from that.
I had to share too, that while we were putting our room back together Mike and I were putting a lock of Lyric's hair in a special frame I had bought a long time ago and just never had the piece of mind to get those two put together. Anyway, we all stood around it for a moment in memory, staring at it and in walks Noah. I shared with him that we finally had Lyric's lock of hair in the frame and he said, "You kept Lyric's toxic waste?" Then he looked down at Samuel and said, "That's what your hair is Samuel, your own personal compost bin." This family has such a large share of nuts that you just really can't be down for more than a few moments.
I explained Santa would come down the chimney with his big bag of toys that he made special, just for Samuel. He would put them under the Christmas tree as Samuel slept and then he would wake up and have Christmas gifts to open. We listed toys he wanted...Elmo...cars...dinosaures...chips...Nemo...chips...
This morning Mike and I woke up and immediately began working on the bedroom. I pulled off all the paint I could reach and then went up-stairs for the vacuum. When I came back down I hear paper riping and I thought, "Wow! Mike is really getting busy." Then I realized, "OH NO!!" Downstairs Samuel was ripping through Christmas gifts under the tree. He had opened two of Noah's before I caught him.
Noah was thrilled though, rather than disappointed, because the two gifts were more pieces to the Christmas village he collects. The boys took them up-stairs and set them up. The anticipation of tomorrow is growing by the moment! Tonight we'll discuss Christ's birthday and see what Samuel learns from that.
I had to share too, that while we were putting our room back together Mike and I were putting a lock of Lyric's hair in a special frame I had bought a long time ago and just never had the piece of mind to get those two put together. Anyway, we all stood around it for a moment in memory, staring at it and in walks Noah. I shared with him that we finally had Lyric's lock of hair in the frame and he said, "You kept Lyric's toxic waste?" Then he looked down at Samuel and said, "That's what your hair is Samuel, your own personal compost bin." This family has such a large share of nuts that you just really can't be down for more than a few moments.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Baby Name
When I was a little girl, I always dreamed of having a little girl and naming her "Miranda Priscilla." I loved that name for years and Keely screeches in horror at the thought she could be called Miranda. When I was pregnant with her though, I was confident I was having a boy. I had picked out the name Damien Cole. (No, I had no idea there was a movie about a satan child named Damien.) Later in my pregnancy however, I was reading a book and found the name Keely. I looked up the meaning and it meant beauty or beautiful. Keely's pregnancy was a bit of a struggle for me because I was a young mom and had little support. I knew though that my baby would be the first beauty to enter my life and I was blessed. In fact, she did change my life for the better in everyway. After having such conviction with her name, it seemed quite clear I was having a girl.
While pregnant with Noah, again, I wanted to be surprised with the gender. We liked the name Emma, because of course I thought I was having a girl, but it just didn't touch my heart the same way Keely's name had. Just prior to becoming pregnant with Noah, Mike and I had begin attending church at New Hope. I had wanted to be baptized immediately, but Mike was more hesitant initially. A few months went by and I tried to be Mike's Holy Spirit, clearly causing distance between Mike and the Lord. However, the Lord prevailed in spite of me and Mike and I were baptized in May, the fifth month of my pregnancy. Afterwards, we felt rather isolated. Our family seemed to think we had found a new fad and reminded us frequently that we had many flaws, which real Christians would not have. This persecution made me really identify with the isolation Noah must have felt. When I shared this name with Mike we knew the Lord had hand picked it for him and of course, we gave him Mike's middle name. Noah Michael. Noah genuinely thought he was closer to God than the rest of us because after all, he did build the ark and was baptized while in my belly.
Our third pregnancy, we knew the Lord would provide a name but waiting for that to come was painstaking. I remember reading an Old Testament passage about being pure like the lily and thought Lily might be her name. Again, convinced I was having a girl. This child came after years of my praying for another child. Mike had a vasectomy while I was pregnant with Noah and for years, I prayed the Lord would change his heart and give him the desire for another child. Many years later it happened, but he said if the Lord wanted us to have a child, he could overcome a vasectomy. Not too long afterwards Mike said if we could find the money or a cheap resource for a reversal, he would have it done. Another miracle presented when we found a Christian physician in Merriville, Indiana. He was a wonderful man and performed the procedure at cost. Mike had the surgery just prior to my starting graduate school in June. Seven months later we learned we were pregnant. After much prayer and thanksgiving for this pregnancy, the Lord provided the name Lyric. It was perfect because we were so grateful and wanted a name to represent the praise and worship we wanted to offer. I was also quite moved by the story of Abraham and the test of faith he was given. I had prayed a great deal for this child and like Hannah, bargained for him. It wasn't until after Lyric was born and was clearly going home to Jesus that we found the irony in both his first and middle name, Lyric Bram. It was hard to write the name on his birth certificate, but I knew the Lord had picked them for him and years later, I can't imagine anything different.
Samuel was maybe the easiest of all, I mean in respect to waiting for his name to be clear to me. I am not sure if that was because I was in denial of my being pregnant for so long or if that was because his name was clear from the beginning. It seems we knew immediately though that we would name him Samuel - God's gift. The meaning was perfect, but the name itself wasn't quite comfortable on my tongue. I found in a commentary somewhere that Shem was a nickname for Samuel. Shem was Noah's son, the blessed son. His middle name Moses was simply because the story of Moses was and is one of the greatest inspirations to me from the Bible. There are so many wonderful lessons to be learned from the life of Moses and daily the Lord seems to remind me of at least one, which gives me the perseverance in my own calling. The funny thing, and completely unexpected, was Samuel ended up being born in water. Still today he loves being in the water and seems to be completely unaware of when it completely covers his face in the shower. Samuel Moses - our gift, born into water.
Now...once again, I await direction from the Lord as if I am awaiting Christmas morning. Our back-up name for Samuel was Jewel, although we were confident with him that we were having a boy. This time, once again, I wonder if I am having a girl. I simply can't imagine though. It would be fabulous and of course, she would be well welcomed, but we all seem to agree that we have become quite use to boys in the house. The name Jewel though seems to sit in my mind. Mike's grandmother's name was Jewel and having been so close to his father, it would please him immensely to name his daughter after her. However, I am also reminded of a mother I cared for very early in my career.
As I started my shift, the board of laboring mothers was read to the on-coming nurses and we were told a very large mother in room ten was being induced and clearly would need a cesarean. She was assigned to me, sort of as a joke, "because if anyone can get a vaginal birth out of her, it would be Penny." Absolutely. I was on a mission. Believing in women goes a long way! This woman, whose name I can't even remember, was one of the kindest women I have ever met. It was an honor to assist her in birthing her daughter, Diamond Sierra into the world. A few years later as I took report for my shift, again as had become my legacy, I was given the difficult case. I walked in room six and to my surprise was Diamond's mother! She remembered me too and had said, "Oh, it's Penny," and she turned to her family and said, "Penny is a Christian." Then looked back at me for validation, "Right?" I was astonished and honored. My love for her was apparent. I was shocked that she knew I was a Christian without it having been blatantly shared.
Again, we had a beautiful birth and she named her son Marque, although I can't remember his middle name regrettably. It also was the name of a gem like her daughter and I asked her, why she had chosen such names. She explained to me that she visioned entering the gates of heaven and seeing an enormous, breath-taking wall of gems for all the Christians she had been a witness to and her children had led to the Lord. Anyway, I think of her and her wall of gems when I think of Jewel. What great joy it would be to have a daughter whose name represents evangelism. I suppose we'll see where the Lord leads us as we still have many months ahead of us!
While pregnant with Noah, again, I wanted to be surprised with the gender. We liked the name Emma, because of course I thought I was having a girl, but it just didn't touch my heart the same way Keely's name had. Just prior to becoming pregnant with Noah, Mike and I had begin attending church at New Hope. I had wanted to be baptized immediately, but Mike was more hesitant initially. A few months went by and I tried to be Mike's Holy Spirit, clearly causing distance between Mike and the Lord. However, the Lord prevailed in spite of me and Mike and I were baptized in May, the fifth month of my pregnancy. Afterwards, we felt rather isolated. Our family seemed to think we had found a new fad and reminded us frequently that we had many flaws, which real Christians would not have. This persecution made me really identify with the isolation Noah must have felt. When I shared this name with Mike we knew the Lord had hand picked it for him and of course, we gave him Mike's middle name. Noah Michael. Noah genuinely thought he was closer to God than the rest of us because after all, he did build the ark and was baptized while in my belly.
Our third pregnancy, we knew the Lord would provide a name but waiting for that to come was painstaking. I remember reading an Old Testament passage about being pure like the lily and thought Lily might be her name. Again, convinced I was having a girl. This child came after years of my praying for another child. Mike had a vasectomy while I was pregnant with Noah and for years, I prayed the Lord would change his heart and give him the desire for another child. Many years later it happened, but he said if the Lord wanted us to have a child, he could overcome a vasectomy. Not too long afterwards Mike said if we could find the money or a cheap resource for a reversal, he would have it done. Another miracle presented when we found a Christian physician in Merriville, Indiana. He was a wonderful man and performed the procedure at cost. Mike had the surgery just prior to my starting graduate school in June. Seven months later we learned we were pregnant. After much prayer and thanksgiving for this pregnancy, the Lord provided the name Lyric. It was perfect because we were so grateful and wanted a name to represent the praise and worship we wanted to offer. I was also quite moved by the story of Abraham and the test of faith he was given. I had prayed a great deal for this child and like Hannah, bargained for him. It wasn't until after Lyric was born and was clearly going home to Jesus that we found the irony in both his first and middle name, Lyric Bram. It was hard to write the name on his birth certificate, but I knew the Lord had picked them for him and years later, I can't imagine anything different.
Samuel was maybe the easiest of all, I mean in respect to waiting for his name to be clear to me. I am not sure if that was because I was in denial of my being pregnant for so long or if that was because his name was clear from the beginning. It seems we knew immediately though that we would name him Samuel - God's gift. The meaning was perfect, but the name itself wasn't quite comfortable on my tongue. I found in a commentary somewhere that Shem was a nickname for Samuel. Shem was Noah's son, the blessed son. His middle name Moses was simply because the story of Moses was and is one of the greatest inspirations to me from the Bible. There are so many wonderful lessons to be learned from the life of Moses and daily the Lord seems to remind me of at least one, which gives me the perseverance in my own calling. The funny thing, and completely unexpected, was Samuel ended up being born in water. Still today he loves being in the water and seems to be completely unaware of when it completely covers his face in the shower. Samuel Moses - our gift, born into water.
Now...once again, I await direction from the Lord as if I am awaiting Christmas morning. Our back-up name for Samuel was Jewel, although we were confident with him that we were having a boy. This time, once again, I wonder if I am having a girl. I simply can't imagine though. It would be fabulous and of course, she would be well welcomed, but we all seem to agree that we have become quite use to boys in the house. The name Jewel though seems to sit in my mind. Mike's grandmother's name was Jewel and having been so close to his father, it would please him immensely to name his daughter after her. However, I am also reminded of a mother I cared for very early in my career.
As I started my shift, the board of laboring mothers was read to the on-coming nurses and we were told a very large mother in room ten was being induced and clearly would need a cesarean. She was assigned to me, sort of as a joke, "because if anyone can get a vaginal birth out of her, it would be Penny." Absolutely. I was on a mission. Believing in women goes a long way! This woman, whose name I can't even remember, was one of the kindest women I have ever met. It was an honor to assist her in birthing her daughter, Diamond Sierra into the world. A few years later as I took report for my shift, again as had become my legacy, I was given the difficult case. I walked in room six and to my surprise was Diamond's mother! She remembered me too and had said, "Oh, it's Penny," and she turned to her family and said, "Penny is a Christian." Then looked back at me for validation, "Right?" I was astonished and honored. My love for her was apparent. I was shocked that she knew I was a Christian without it having been blatantly shared.
Again, we had a beautiful birth and she named her son Marque, although I can't remember his middle name regrettably. It also was the name of a gem like her daughter and I asked her, why she had chosen such names. She explained to me that she visioned entering the gates of heaven and seeing an enormous, breath-taking wall of gems for all the Christians she had been a witness to and her children had led to the Lord. Anyway, I think of her and her wall of gems when I think of Jewel. What great joy it would be to have a daughter whose name represents evangelism. I suppose we'll see where the Lord leads us as we still have many months ahead of us!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Tears in church...
It is fairly common for me to cry in church. Something always seems to move me. Most often it is a testimony, lyrics of a song, a new found conviction, or when I crunch that communion cracker and remember His bones, His flesh and taste the sweetness of the grape juice, His blood - for me. I use to play flute in the church's band. Oh my... how amazing that experience was. I often cried during those days because I was right in the middle of worship. The music would surround me as I faced the crowd, witnessing others raise their hands to the Lord, watching them sing to the heavens in complete awe. I was over-whelmed with conviction by the teenagers in the front row standing each week without any prompting, not giving any care to those that remained seated behind them. They loved the Lord!
This week our church lost a member to heaven. A fourteen year old boy passed, very unexpectedly. He was in my daughter's youth group, although they didn't know each other well. I have looked at Keely differently this week, but mostly I think of this grieving mother. I can identify with loosing a child. No one should have to bury their baby. I can't imagine loosing a child I have loved for fourteen years.
Today as we sang worship songs, I couldn't help but wonder if the grieving family had made it to church. When my son passed, my husband would attend without me. I simply couldn't pull myself out of bed and face people. Would they say something, or worse would they not say anything? Everything said and everything done in some way pointed to the fact that my son was dead. How could other people not realize that?
It has been so hard coming back to church and becoming part of a new church family. I can't even explain why this has been so challenging, because it seems contrary to all that I know about Christian fellowship. I was fearful I would cry uncontrollably, because church is the one place I know I will FEEL the Lord's presence. I've always worn my feelings on my sleeve, but after loosing my son, my emotions were especially raw. I knew the truth, no one feels comfortable with raw emotions, particularly in church. Will they love me and encourage me, wrap their arms around me? Yes. Will they feel comfortable doing so? No. Likely I'd be escorted to another room while others questioned my drama. It was just easier for me to stay at home and cry alone in my bed. Grief becomes psychosis to many people at a point way too premature for those of us with babies buried under feet of dirt. I had pushed every one's definition of the normal grief process and was well aware of the need to seclude myself, or risk being labeled "the one that lost it after the incident."
Anyway, I cried a bit uncontrollably today. It was very comforting though. Now that we are almost four years past Lyric's death, I am fairly confident that I won't succumb to grief and be lost within it, so a nice cry can be very welcoming at times. Today, I identified so closely with each song sang and with the grief the congregation felt for this family, and potentially the isolation this mother felt at home as her church family attended without her... I simply couldn't stop the tears. Both eyes were running and tears were bouncing off my cheek and shirt, hitting my husband's arms before I could even catch them. After a few songs, he asked if I needed him to go get me a Kleenex. I reassured him that I would soon gain control and the tears would stop. Before the next song had ended, he was up and back with a handful of Kleenexes... thankfully because the tears didn't cease until way into the sermon. It wasn't until this evening that I realized, Mike never did ask me why I cried in church today. The funny thing is, I think he knew. Even more funny, I think he knows there is no boundary for grief and will never define me as having crossed the border to insanity. He allows me to grieve and I think today, he smiled because he knew my tears were in praise. He is Holy, He is Mighty, He is Worthy... Worthy of Praise.
This week our church lost a member to heaven. A fourteen year old boy passed, very unexpectedly. He was in my daughter's youth group, although they didn't know each other well. I have looked at Keely differently this week, but mostly I think of this grieving mother. I can identify with loosing a child. No one should have to bury their baby. I can't imagine loosing a child I have loved for fourteen years.
Today as we sang worship songs, I couldn't help but wonder if the grieving family had made it to church. When my son passed, my husband would attend without me. I simply couldn't pull myself out of bed and face people. Would they say something, or worse would they not say anything? Everything said and everything done in some way pointed to the fact that my son was dead. How could other people not realize that?
It has been so hard coming back to church and becoming part of a new church family. I can't even explain why this has been so challenging, because it seems contrary to all that I know about Christian fellowship. I was fearful I would cry uncontrollably, because church is the one place I know I will FEEL the Lord's presence. I've always worn my feelings on my sleeve, but after loosing my son, my emotions were especially raw. I knew the truth, no one feels comfortable with raw emotions, particularly in church. Will they love me and encourage me, wrap their arms around me? Yes. Will they feel comfortable doing so? No. Likely I'd be escorted to another room while others questioned my drama. It was just easier for me to stay at home and cry alone in my bed. Grief becomes psychosis to many people at a point way too premature for those of us with babies buried under feet of dirt. I had pushed every one's definition of the normal grief process and was well aware of the need to seclude myself, or risk being labeled "the one that lost it after the incident."
Anyway, I cried a bit uncontrollably today. It was very comforting though. Now that we are almost four years past Lyric's death, I am fairly confident that I won't succumb to grief and be lost within it, so a nice cry can be very welcoming at times. Today, I identified so closely with each song sang and with the grief the congregation felt for this family, and potentially the isolation this mother felt at home as her church family attended without her... I simply couldn't stop the tears. Both eyes were running and tears were bouncing off my cheek and shirt, hitting my husband's arms before I could even catch them. After a few songs, he asked if I needed him to go get me a Kleenex. I reassured him that I would soon gain control and the tears would stop. Before the next song had ended, he was up and back with a handful of Kleenexes... thankfully because the tears didn't cease until way into the sermon. It wasn't until this evening that I realized, Mike never did ask me why I cried in church today. The funny thing is, I think he knew. Even more funny, I think he knows there is no boundary for grief and will never define me as having crossed the border to insanity. He allows me to grieve and I think today, he smiled because he knew my tears were in praise. He is Holy, He is Mighty, He is Worthy... Worthy of Praise.
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