Theunlikelypastorswife

February was supposed to be one of the happiest months of my life. It was February 15 we were supposed to go to our 8 weeks pregnant appointment, where maybe they would try to hear our baby’s heartbeat. Instead, February has been one of the darkest hardest months of my life.

The spotting started on a Wednesday morning after I woke up from the stomach flu. It was just a little, so I tried not to freak. Thursday am there was a little more spotting so I called the Dr. They told me to relax and drink fluids and go get some blood work done. Then came Friday morning. The cramps started and I knew our little baby was gone. Graham was still hopeful, but I just new. Off we went to get the ultrasound which showed what I already felt and new. Dead. My precious 7 week old little bean was gone. My hopes of sharing my birth month with my baby gone. My hopes that Nolan, who so deserves a little brother or sister, would get to kiss them and hug them and help mommy feeding and changing them gone.
Grief in this context is so complex. I have grieved loss of loved ones, loss in relatshionships, and loss in your dreams being dashed, but never the loss of a child. Yes a child. I was a mom the moment that test (all 4 of them) were positive. I feel like I am constantly shifting between anger and acceptance. Sadness and joy. Numbness and over sensitivity. I am angry at myself, others, God, the cat, that guy in the Jaguar I yelled at in the Michaels parking lot, etc. I am so very sad that I will not get to hear my baby’s heartbeat or feels it move inside of me. I am sad that I won’t get to see it doing gymnastics on it’s ultrasound. I’m sad that we won’t know whether or not it was a boy or girl (although I think it was a girl!). I’m sad that I won’t get to deliver him/her into the world and feel that unspeakable love and bond when you first see and hold your newborn. I’m sad that I won’t get to nurse my baby and walk through the many milestones of that 1st year. I’m sad that my baby was sick and couldn’t surrvive. I wonder if my baby felt pain when and or before it died. I’m sad that now everyone who knew we were expecting is now in grief over our loss.
And then I gravitate towards numbness. Where I don’t want to see or talk to anyone because I just want to have the bliss of feeling nothing. I wish that numbness wasn’t so unhealthy.
And yet, for the most part, I have accepted our little ones death. I take comfort in knowing that when we are absent from the body we are present with the Lord. That God knew us before the foundations of the world. That we are 100% human the moment that the sperm and egg meet. I take comfort and joy in the fact that my baby is where all of us are trying to get to. Home.
Good theology is what saves you in crap like this. I kept praying that God would help me to grieve well. He gives and takes away blessed be His name. My womb is not my own. It is God’s to do with what He will. We are all God’s. All of us. Do we all go to Heaven? That’s a topic for another post.
I guess this post is a whole lot of randomness, but I wanted to tell my babies story and what my baby taught me. My baby taught me that God is sovereign and good over all even the bad, because he can take what Satan intends to destroy, and make into something beautiful. I’m not sure what the beautiful is yet, but I know it will come. I have learned that friends and family are crucial in crisis. I have learned that life is precious and we should all shut up and stop complaining. I have learned how precious and thankful I am for my sweet Nolan. I have learned that God makes woman strong through crap like this. Life died inside of me, I had to expel it, and I’m still standing. I have learned that love runs deep when your spouse is grieving.(I love you Graham. Thank you for everything.) I have learned that I must continue on.
Am I scared? Absolutely. It seems like I know 5 million woman having babies. Now comes the battle of jealousy, contentment, anger, covetousness, bitterness, and depression. And if God should open my womb again, I battle fear. But He will uphold me. He has not named me an Ezer(Hebrew for co-warrior) for nothing. I will fight. I choose to fight this battle against evil. I must press on. In my grief, I will press on. In honor of my brave little baby that did all he/she could do to survive I will fight and press on.

So I woke up late….again. I feel like crap….again. Illness is a bitch. I don’t know what it is I suffer from. Mental illness? Food allergies? Auto Immune disorders? All 3? Who knows. The point is that anyone who has a life long illness knows where I’m coming from. My anxiety and depression are better from an emotional standpoint, but I feel worse than I ever have physically. And doctors keep testing and guessing what is wrong. And the tests come back negative…again. SO FRUSTRATING! Don’t these people know how I cry myself to sleep because I didn’t have the energy to care for my son? Don’t they have any compassion for the hurt and guilt that I battle on a daily basis for missing things that are important to others and to me because I mentally, emotionally, and physically can’t deal?

The guilt I feel totally consumes me. And then I’m exhausted from fighting that guilt that isn’t from God. Most people have no idea how I suffer. I put on a smile and live to love life, because I refuse to let this crap defeat me most of the time. Not today though. Today I sit on the couch at 11:10am still in my jammies and depressed that I missed church writing out my turmoil so that maybe I can find some peace. I don’t want or need a pity party. This post isn’t for you to read and feel bad for me. This post is to expose guilt. I didn’t ask for these physical, mental and emotional chains. They are a product of the fall and sin and it REALLY SUCKS that they are mine to bear, but they are. I don’t believe that I did something to deserve this. (most of the time). We all suffer from the effects of the fall. Then why do I feel so freakin guilty?

Maybe Satan knows that I have a tendency to define my worth by what I do and how others love me. I feel that being sick will result in hurting others and then I won’t be loved. Yeah. I guess that’s part of it. I also want to be strong to be able to parent Nolan well and marriage well with Graham and relationship well with friends and family and when you are sick you are weak. You are lucky to make it through a day of work without coming home and needing to go straight to bed. You are lucky if you can get all the cooking and housework done. You are lucky if you can make love with your spouse. You are lucky if you can run around and play with your kid.

I am sick, but that DOES NOT mean that I have any less worth or purpose than others who are not. It just means that my path is different. Today is hard day and I’m thankful to my few readers for supporting my writing. It is my hope that through the darkness I share yours will be exposed too and the healing light, love, and strength of Jesus will illuminate every corner of who you are and the guilt that consumes will be consumed by Him.

There seems to be a whirlwind of information floating around my circle of my mommy friends in regards to parenting styles and discipline. I have spent the last hour pouring over some of the info that has come up and I want to poke my eyeballs out with a fork.

It’s not that I’m against learning and reading new thoughts and ideas. On the contrary, most of the info I found was info I asked for. It’s more everybody’s desperation to be right and the lack of dealing with the heart of the issue which is the heart.

I will never forget the first time Nolan sinned against me. He was 3 months old and I had been snuggling and rocking him and making sure he was ready to go down for a nap. I put him down and he screamed, so I picked him up. Then I put him down and walked out and he screamed, so I would wait a minute and go back in and pick him up. This cycle went on for 45 minutes. The last time I went in exhausted he smiled at me and then I walked out and he screamed. Not gonna lie, I picked him up defeated and nursed him and then he played. Though he couldn’t make the moral choice, his actions clearly stated, “I WILL NOT DO WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO! I WANT TO DO WHAT I WANT TO DO.” (All of my attachment parenting friends are hot under the collar right about now. I read your stuff and respectfully disagree, so don’t hate me for this post. Love you all!)

So this is what I want to ask; When does sin corrupt us? Because that is the root of your 2 year old spitting out her food at you. (Love you Linda!) IT’S SIN THAT MAKES OUR KIDS NAUGHTY! WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING AND TEACHING THEM ABOUT THAT EVERY MOMENT OF EVERYDAY? THEY NEED JESUS! Yeah, I just yelled. Seriously, sin is the root of what makes ALL of us say I DON’T WANT TO DO WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO. I WANT TO DO WHAT I WANT TO DO. Sin and it’s root and causes and how we are freed from it are what we should be modeling and teaching our children. They are fearfully and wonderfully made image-bearers of the ONE TRUE GOD and yet, they are also fully black hearted sinners that need the blood of Jesus to set them free and make them new. How are we preaching the Gospel to our kids? Are they seeing Jesus in us in the way we talk, eat, pray, worship, relationship, work, play, love, discipline, resolve conflict, and just plain LIVE?

We should be more concerned with these Biblical concerns, than who wins the war of the best parental discipline and parental philosophy. I am grateful for the war. It helps me to process what might work for Nolan and what would DEFINITELY NOT work with Nolan. Ultimately God is the one that has given us our kids and made us their parents and as long as we are asking HIM to guide us in filtering the info, we are all doing a great job. Be open. Don’t choose ignorance. We can’t afford to be too tired and/or sick to not read and research all of the philosophies. There is a bigger War going on for our little ones souls and that is where us needing to preach the Gospel to them (notice I didn’t say AT them) daily is so important.

So the final question I leave you all to ponder as I will too is this: How can I preach the Gospel in a real and present way to my children today?

One year ago today I had a 5 day old and holy cow what a year it has been.  I find myself filled with an odd set of emotions. (Not because of my meds or illness) I feel proud that I made it through Nolan’s first year still standing with physical and emotional battle scars of mommyhood. That’s right! My stretch marks, c-section scar, and “whole-lotta-love-handles,” are physical proof that I won the pregnancy/delivery battle. With obvious help from the Lord and family and friends.

I also now carry the beginnings of the curse of emotional scarring that Eve brings upon the whole female race that says, “I will greatly increase your pain in childbirth. In pain you will bring forth children.” This really amazing teacher/theologian named Richard Pratt talks about this in his book, Designed For Dignity. He believes that based on the grammatical structure of this text in Genesis 3:16  that the curse not only applies to actual labor, but also to the ENTIRE process of raising your children. And boy-howdy, did I ever feel that the first time I let Nolan cry it out. (Ferber method.) I felt it the first time I told him, “NO!” and he looked me square in the eyes and did it anyways. I feel it now as he tantrums at every clothes/diaper change and more age appropriate discipline is at hand. (Time Out) I feel it when he doesn’t want my help or me to hold and snuggle him. I feel it when he prefers Daddy’s company. I feel it in the darkness of my own heart that so desperately wants to cling to him and use him to fill the void in my soul that only Christ can fill.

And then I also feel Psalm 127:3-5 that basically says that children are a gift and reward and if you have a lot of them to shoot forth into the world like arrows for the furtherance of the Gospel, you will be blessed. That first time I held Nolan in my arms I knew that I would do whatever it takes to protect him. I was so proud of the super pooper, eater, and sleeper he was. Even with reflux, he rarely fussed. I think about all of the joy he brings to others and how he has a special way of looking at you and making you feel like you are the only person in the world that gets that special look. I think about the firsts. First head control, first smile,  first roll over, first scoot, first army crawl, first sitting up, first foods, first pulling up, first words, first kisses, first booty poppin, first cruising, first hands and knees crawls, and recently, first wobbly steps. Nolan is the kind of baby that makes you glow with love and pride at how sweet and funny he is.

I look forward with anticipation and a twinge of grief and sadness at the next year. The better I do my job, the further away he will fly from the nest. I hope and pray that I will be striving to be the woman God has called out of darkness into light to be. I hope that Nolan will face this next year knowing how deeply he is loved, not only by mommy, but also by His Maker. I hope that I will have enough courage and trust and faith to allow Nolan to risk. But most of all, I hope for peace and love to flood this little family and soak us to the bone. I hope that we will be able to make that peace and love possible to all of those we are connected to past, present, and future. And now I leave you with the blessing we pray over Nolan often. Numbers 6:24-26

“May the Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn His face towards you and give you His peace.”

Do you believe that? Do I? As I look forward and keep walking this uphill climb of life and mommyhood, I hope so and I hope that you do too.

One word: Gossip. What comes to your your mind or maybe who comes to your mind? What is it that compels us to talk about other people to other people without talking to the people we are talking about first? This is a serious problem in a lot of our lives whether we find ourselves gossiping or the one’s being gossiped about it is a destructive evil that destroys lives.

As I have been getting responses from my previous posts, I have been thinking a lot about why we gossip, why we don’t want to go deeper, and why we don’t want to be real. I am so appreciative for everyone’s support in my struggle and for everyone’s prayers, concerns and thoughts.

I want to clarify that in my last post about women’s ministries I had no specific church or ministry in mind. I was writing about the majority of the 20 years I have been involved in the church and ministries and witnessed through my own personal conference/retreat attendance. It is not my desire to point fingers of blame. It is my deep desire that we would look at ourselves and truly ask God how we as women can do better.

Back to what I want to write about. Gossip. And I am proposing that some of the reasons that we gossip tie directly into why we don’t want to go deeper, why we don’t want to be real, and why we must control.

I believe that the reason that we don’t want to go deeper is born out of belief. We as women either believe that we are not smart enough to study the hard stuff and/or we feel like our time is precious and to study the hard theological/Biblical stuff would be to time consuming. I also think we might fear what we learn and what will be changed in us and thus to my next point.

I think that we don’t want be real with people because we fear that if they truly saw ALL of us they would lose respect for us and not like us anymore which translates to our need to be loved. We have this mindset as women that in order to have worth and be loved, we must have status and control. Our need to control is born out of our fear to trust the One that has ALL of the control past, present, and future. This is also why we hate to change or have the things around us that we controlled once change.

The underlying theme in all of these struggles is fear. We gossip because we want to experience connectedness to others and will do whatever it takes to feel that. We also just flat out are sinners and lift ourselves up and make ourselves feel better by putting others down or saying, “I’m so glad I’m not them.” We let the fear of not having love and connectedness drive us to sin. We are wanting to define who we are and where our worth lies by what we do or don’t do, who we know, who loves us, and what we know instead of defining ourselves in Christ.

So what will you do to stop and break the chain of gossip? How will you strive to be more vulnerable, open, and honest with others so as to glorify Christ’s redeeming and healing power in you story? What theological topic or book of the Bible will you study to go deeper in your relationship with the Lord?  Who will you allow define who you are and where your worth lies? How will you let go of the control you hold in a tight, closed fist? And what might happen in your life if you dare to answer these questions? Risk. I dare you.

I feel like I am standing on the edge of a very high cliff getting ready to jump off with no bungee cord. Only a parachute. The cliff is a mountain of messy experience. The jump is into a calling that only God could call someone as broken as me to. And the parachute is of course the God who Sees. For those of you that know me, this is just normal Becky speak. For those of you who are just reading my stuff, bless you and may God grant you grace to stumble along through my ramblings. I have felt for a long time that Women’s ministries have been missing something. And that something is uncomfortable truth. To read on should not be for the light hearted. When I think about women’s Bible studies, retreats, and conferences, the word fluff comes to my mind. Pink is a close second. Tickle my ears and entertain me is third. Don’t get me wrong. God has and is using women through fluff and pink and tickling ears and entertainment and I’m not saying the current female speakers should stop doing/being what they feel like God has called them to. I am asking, is there a need for something different? God help me, I think so. Where are the educated 20/30 somethings (Kelly Simpson, you are my hero) that are honest but respectful women that have so much wisdom to offer the body of Christ? Where are the women’s sexual addictions groups? Where are the women’s prison ministries? Where are the single mother’s support groups? Where are the divorced wives support groups? Where are the abused women support groups? These exist outside of the church, but why are they not in EVERY SINGLE church body?  Why are we not talking about and listening to what makes us feel uncomfortable? Why are we allowing the darkness of ignorance to veil our eyes and hearts? If your church is doing these things than praise the Lord for your faithfulness to live out the Gospel. ALL churches should be tapped into the needs of their body AND community. It is my prayer that God would use a broken vessel like me to be used to shed light into darkness. Specifically light into the darkness of what we keep secret and hush hush. I believe that Satan is binding women in their secrets and unwillingness to listen/talk about “off color,” “offensive,” subject matter. I’m not saying that we should have a license to sin and yes I realize that this is a fine line I am attempting walk. God give me grace, wisdom, and truth in love. I am inviting you to join me in prayer for women in the church and those serving women in the church. I hope that women’s ministries will no longer be weighed and found wanting. I’m hoping that through data and research He will enable me to put together some useful exhortations and information to disperse confusion and darkness and allow the light of His unchanging, never ending love, to penetrate the hearts and minds of women and myself. I take heart that God is the one that is in control and He will be the one that guides me. May He be the one that is seen and heard in a real unapologetic way.

Worst day of my life. I’m sitting on the couch with that tear stained liquid eyeliner running down my face like Alice Cooper look so wishing there really was a utopia I could run to.

After multiple (and frustrating) Dr. appointments over the years, I was at the end of my rope, desperate to find out how all of my random symptoms fit together. Thyroid? Nope. Cancer? Nope. Celiac? Nope. Diabetes? Nope. Depression/Anxiety/Bi-polar? Possible yes. What horrifying relief. As the arduous road of mental illness lays before me, fear, embarrassment, and guilt are the words I would use to describe my feelings. Will the medicine work or make my symptoms worse? Will it make me fat? Will I still be creative? Will I develop a dependency on them? How will this crap affect my sweet (yet surprisingly difficult) son Nolan and my husband Graham? What will people think of me now? I know, I know, what people think doesn’t matter, right? I’m so sure that you don’t care what people think of you my devoted reader.(Enter sarcasm here.)

Seriously. Mental illness SUCKS!!! I feel so angry at God for making me this way. I’ve worked through my anger towards Him about my family issues/illnesses, but not towards Him about my own personal appointed affliction. Extreme highs and lows were my normal. Anger/control were born in my life out of sin and environment. Depression was because of hormones or a blocked goal. I found reasons to explain all of my crap, when really, my reasons were CRAP! What I need is to figure out what medicine will work for me and not be ashamed that I am sick and need help. I would NEVER look at someone with diabetes and think they were to be looked down upon because they are sick and need medicine to manage their illness. So what the heck is my problem? Why am I so scared? Ok. Fear is valid in this journey, but not the kind of fear that is debilitating. Giulio told me in reference to hairdressing “Do what scares the shit out of you.” (For my conservative readers, I apologize for the swear.) What he meant by that was that if I did what scared the @#$% of me, I wouldn’t fear it anymore and begin to understand what I didn’t know so that I could master that skill. Perhaps I should take that advice with a grain of salt in my “mental illness” situation. If I do what scares the crap out of me in this situation it would look like taking my meds and trusting the Lord that HE is in control above my fears and my Docs “deductive reasoning.”

God divinely wove me together in my mom’s tummy. He knows EVERY part of who I am and what I struggle with. Why is my faith so small? He has not brought me this far through so much pain and agony only to leave me with this terrible illness all alone trapped in a corner. I must remember that and believe that truth in my head even if I don’t feel it in my heart and believe that God is with me and will never leave me or forsake me. What about you? What is God challenging your heart with that you need to remember He is there? What choice will you make now that He is bringing things to your memory? Don’t make the foolish choice I did to explain it all away. Listen. Respond. And remember that in the words of my favorite singer/songwriter Jill Phillips, “Nobody’s Got It All Together.”

Why is it that just when we think we are starting to get our stuff together, things begin to unravel? Sometimes I think to myself “How the heck did I get here?” As Graham sits in the kitchen on the phone at 10pm at night counseling and doing the youth pastor thing, I think to myself that it wasn’t that long ago I was on the other end of the phone needing the counseling. I have also been on the other end of the phone giving the hard advice.  Those are some hard places.

Why did God ordain beauty to come from pain? Why must we wage war? I am so tired and I KNOW that I am not alone. I think of one of my favorite movies, “A League of Their Own,” when Tom Hanks says to Geena Davis who wants to quit the game because it’s too hard, “The hard is what makes it great.” I guess that I have found that to be true. Having Nolan was most definitely(and at times still is) painful, but the beauty that encompasses and surrounds him shines through that pain. Working out is hard, but the results are great. I wouldn’t know about that at this time in my life.

I guess being unsettled in the settling could be viewed as a good thing. It is in the settling that false contentment can grip our souls and slowly strangle the life out of us. I think of Paul who said that in whatever state he was in, he was content. This statement coming from a guy in prison. And perhaps it is in the unsettling that the hard makes great and beauty comes from pain.

Whatever the answers to my questions may be, what I do not question is that I have an Author that knows how my story began, is continuing, and will end. He knows my anger, sadness, fear, loneliness, grief, loss, and anxiety and still loves me.