The Miracle of Rising Up . . . Again

Sometimes, the miracle doesn't look like what we think it should. Sometimes we miss it completely because we're looking for something else. Sometimes we can only see it in hindsight. Sometimes the miracle is rising up each time we fall or we’re pushed down by the enemy. Thank you Lord, for your miracles, no matter what they look like!

These are the words that hit me the other day. Like a proverbial Mac truck! I have just gone through a time in my life that has been . . . well, difficult. In the last five years, we’ve experienced fertility issues, three miscarriages, a huge financial burden, betrayal, attacks on our character, the demise of a church we loved and poured everything into, the loss of relationships, the death of two beloved pets (just months apart), isolation, and the silence of God. Yep, it’s been a difficult time.

It would be easy to blame all of this on some great big sin in our lives, but it wasn’t there. Of course, we’re not sin free, but we weren’t in rebellion, or choosing a lifestyle of sin over a lifestyle of loving God and worship. It was “just” a time of warfare. For some reason, our enemy, the enemy, pursued us with a vengeance. We knew we were under attack, and we fought it the best we could. We kept going, we kept praying, we kept believing, we kept praising, we kept on keepin’ on, rising up each time we were taken down . . . for a time.

I have always believed that a person can endure or deal with most things if it’s only for a time. But when that time goes on and on, and the attacks are relentless, when the burden is unbearably heavy, and you have no reprieve, it’s easy to get weary. Deep down, doggone, wiped-out weary.

That’s where I was. My prayers, pleas, cries, and questions went unanswered. I believe in miracles. I’ve seen other people receive miracles. That last moment save, when all seemed lost, and the miracle happened to them. I rejoiced with them, while wondering, where was my miracle, my save? Especially regarding my miscarriages. I mean, I knew that God could intervene and save my babies, but He didn’t. I concluded that either God was not all-powerful, or He just didn’t care.

I wrestled with that. I wrestled with God. I poured out my anger, my pain, my questions, my blame, I just poured it all out. Time after time. And finally, after such a long time, things got better. The assaults haven’t stopped completely, but I’m feeling strengthened and victorious. I don’t have answers to the seemingly endless questions that have been plaguing me, but I have peace. I feel as if the large, dark and ominous cloud that has been hovering over me has been pushed away and has been replaced by glorious Light. God has shown me once again, that I am a victor, not a victim. That I am an overcomer, not merely a survivor.

And finally I know, finally I get it. I received my miracle. I received the miracle of being able to rise up each time I was taken down. Yes, the fight was long, drawn-out, unyielding and brutal. Yes, the enemy won some battles. Yes, we suffered major casualties, but . . . we survived, we got through and we rose up, again and again and again. We were bruised and bloodied, but we were not defeated. I am stronger for it, we are stronger for it. Through the midst of it all, our marriage did not suffer. And we know, without a shadow of a doubt, that what the enemy meant for evil, God will use for good.

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. ~ Romans 8:28

Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. ~ Romans 8:37

I Will Not Grow Weary

The holidays, and another year, are now behind us, and a new year has begun. For many people, 2009 was difficult, challenging, or just plain hard. I know it was for me. There was a storm in my life. Actually, a storm may not exactly cover it, because it was more like storm, after storm, after storm.

If you’ve read Seed Thoughts for long, you know we experienced our third miscarriage last spring. In some ways, that was the least of what we had to walk through. It was a battle and it thoroughly exhausted me, but it did not defeat me. However, in the last few months, I just felt weary. Flat out, wore out. But because God is good, and He is faithful, he brought the above scripture to mind over and over. And He sustained me.

I don’t know why we had to battle through such a long and overwhelming time, but battle it we did. And God never left us. When I could no longer raise myself up, He did. And I would tell Him, but God I’m weary… And once again He would give me the above scripture. So, I didn’t give up. I just kept on keepin’ on. I kept putting one foot in front of the other, I kept praying and praising, and I kept serving and giving. And you know what? By the grace of God, I made it through.

God is good. He is faithful. And when the storms of life threaten to sweep us away, if we will cling to Him, our Rock and our Foundation, we may sway in the torrent, but we will not be overcome.

So now, with 2010 upon us, I have decided that the theme verse for Seed Thoughts and for me personally is this: And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap a harvest of blessing if we do not give up. ~ Gal. 6:9

I am ready for my harvest of blessing. In the Psalms we read: Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy. ~ Psalm126:5 I have done plenty of sowing of tears, and now the harvest of joy is upon me. It has already begun. The most recent tears I’ve shed, have been tears of joy because God is good and He is faithful, and He has blessed me with His love, with His grace, with His mercy and with His favor.

Trials, tribulations and storms come. They affect us all. But we have a choice to hang on to our Rock, or to give up. It is a matter of choice. It is a matter of will. So I declare in this New Year, I will not grow weary and I will not give up. Rather, I will overcome, and I will thrive, and I will live in joy! Amen!

Just Holding On...

I guess it's time to re-connect with everyone here. I know I haven't been around much. Other than a few book reviews and the His Princess letters, I haven't been around at all. For once, I don't have much to say. I haven't written any blog posts (I'm sorry), I haven't written any fiction, and I haven't been around to visit any of you wonderful bloggy friends.

Today would have been my due date for the miscarriage I had in May. As much as I thought I had dealt with it previously, the grief has come back in full force. The six year journey of trying to have children has taken a toll on me, though I am SO thankful that we have had one. In addition, we've been dealing with another devastating situation for the last two years, which thankfully, is now behind us. However, now that it has passed, I'm feeling the weight and sorrow of that as well.

I know that there are so many people who are suffering greatly with trials much larger than my own and that I have much to be grateful for. And I am. Really. But I am also weary. A body can deal with a lot for a long time, but a time comes when you're so tired of the struggle that it takes what remains of your strength to simply hold on. That's where I'm at. It's where I've been for a while now. But I am holding on. I'm holding on to Jesus and I'm holding on to hope. Hope that next year will be better and I will be stronger, hope that God will restore what the locusts have eaten (Joel 2:25), and hope that all things work together for good for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purposes (Romans 8:28).

As this year draws to a close and I experience these feelings of loss, sorrow and weariness, there is one Scripture in particular that is speaking to me. And as such, I feel that it is appropriate to become next year's theme for Seed Thoughts. It is:

Thank you all for the friendship you've shown me since I began this blog a year and a half ago. Truly this whole experience has been a blessing. Thank you too for your patience in my lack of posting lately. I'm sure I'll be back on track soon. God is faithful and He will see me through.

You Know Me, Lord ~ Psalm 139, Part 1

O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord. You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand! ~ Psalm 139:1-6


This Psalm (139) is probably my most favorite of all the Psalms. I have read it many times throughout my Christian journey. It has given me comfort and assurance in ways that are both deep and profound. It is Rhema to me, life-giving words to live by. Just today I read it again. Once more, it has jumped out at me, specifically the part posted above.


I’m the sort of person that can pretty honestly say, “what you see is what you get.” I’m not much of a faker. I never have been. This doesn’t necessarily mean I wear every emotion on my sleeve, but still, I try to be real, though not always deeply revealing (in that I do try to practice wisdom). That’s why it’s been so important for me to be real in my writing. As I go through the seasons of my life, I find I have to be real and honest about them. With both myself and God.


Reading the above verses, it’s good to know that in this, I’m right on target. Like the Psalmist, God knows me better than I know myself. He knows what I think, feel, say and do, whether I’m honest about it or not. Whether I’m aware of it or not. And even whether I am near or far from Him. He knows whether I will take the high road, or the low road, way before I even arrive at the road.


Once again, with my latest miscarriage, as with my previous two, I felt anger. I was angry with myself, with God, with the world… The thing I didn’t want to do was pretend that I was ok, because I wasn’t. I was hurting badly and flat out pissed off! I hope I don’t shock you too much, but once again, this is me, being real. I spoke of my hurt and anger in person, on my blog, and to God. And you know what? I feel better. Yes, I’m still in the process of healing. But being real, rather than in denial, is both healing and freeing.


Sadly, there are too many Christians who aren’t real. Worse yet, there are “seasoned” Christians who try to influence “newer” Christians to not be real. Who do they think they’re fooling? Certainly not God! He knows us, loves us, and understands when life, and the storms of life, gets to us. That’s part of the beauty of the reality of Jesus. Fully God and fully man. He felt strong emotions; He loved, laughed and grieved. He experienced loyalty and betrayal. And He faced, and conquered, death. He gets us!


And because He gets us, He expects us to be real, even if that real is raw. He is there for us, waiting for us to come to Him, to receive the comfort, peace and love that only He can give. Like a loving Father, He welcomes us to come and sit on His lap and pour out our hearts to him. Even if it is after a temper tantrum. And as we sit with Him, being real with Him, and inviting Him to touch us in His own special way, He does. Tenderly, lovingly, He reaches out to place His hand of blessing on our head.


Thank you, Lord, for your healing-balm, tender-mercies and loving-kindness. Though it is too great and wonderful for me to fully understand, I thank you.

Mother's Day Loss ~ Update and Poem

Last week I spoke about my latest miscarriage and what I have been experiencing emotionally. On Wednesday, I had the D & C, so now the ordeal is over. I’m now able to move forward and ready to begin healing. The emotions (anger, hurt, frustration) are still there, but not as intense as they were. I am beginning to take comfort from my Father. I have to wonder though, if medical personnel will ever understand there is no comfort by them saying things like “there was something wrong with the fetus, and the body just took over,” or “there’s no reason you can’t try again.” A simple “I’m sorry” is much better than medical justifications.


Mother’s Day is this Sunday and while I’m happy to be a mom to my precious little Sweet Pea, I can’t help but think of the little one’s I’ve lost. I recently found this poem on a site that has a pregnancy loss area. It touched me deeply and occurred to me that it may bring comfort to other women who’ve had miscarriages, so I’ve decided to share it here. I would love to give proper credit for this amazing poem, but don’t know who wrote it.

~~~

To Hallmark, they brag that they have a card for everything.


Dear Mr. Hallmark,

I am writing to you from heaven,
and though it must appear,
A rather strange idea,
I see everything from here.

I just popped in to visit,
your stores to find a card.
A card of love for my mother,
as this day for her is hard.

There must be some mistake I thought,
every card you could imagine.
Except I could not find a card,
from a child who lives in heaven.

She is still a mother too,
no matter where I reside.
I had to leave, she understands,
but oh the tears she's cried.

I thought that if I wrote you,
that you would come to know,
That though I live in heaven now,
I still love my mother so.

She talks with me, and dreams with me;
we still share laughter too,
Memories our way of speaking now,
would you see what you could do?

My mother carries me in her heart,
her tears she hides from sight.
She writes poems to honor me,
sometimes far into the night.

She plants flowers in my garden,
there my living memory dwells.
She writes to other grieving parents,
trying to ease their pain as well.

So you see Mr. Hallmark,
though I no longer live on earth,
I must find a way,
to remind her of her wondrous worth.

She needs to be honored,
and remembered too
Just as the children of earth will do.

Thank you Mr. Hallmark,
I know you'll do your best,
I have done all I can do;
to you I'll leave the rest.

Find a way to tell her,
how much she means to me.
Until I can do it for myself,
when she joins me in eternity.

~ Author Unknown

Happy Mother's Day!

Anguish, Anger, and Acceptance . . . Again

When I first started this blog, one year ago, I was being obedient to God by sharing my words, thoughts, etc. Most of what I post here comes solely from me, but some of what I post is from another source (My Princess book, American Patriot’s Almanac, etc). Sometimes I like to be informative, other times I like to simply have fun, and once in awhile I share with you my journey.


Regardless of what is posted each day, I strive to be real and relevant. Sometimes my words are for God, sometimes for others, and sometimes they are for me. Like most of you who do much writing, I find it to be cathartic. Sometimes, I simply have to let what is deep inside of me out. This is one of those times. While this is for me, it is not private otherwise I wouldn’t be posting it here. It is real and it is honest. I don't do fake Christianity.


First, let me say that I’ve been a Christian for ten years now. My relationship with God is deep enough that I can be real with Him, and He's big enough to handle it. I know there are mountain top experiences and valley experiences – and neither last forever. I understand that elation is on the mountain top while growth happens in the valley. I know God has a plan. I know He will never forsake me. I know He collects all my tears in a bottle. I know He uses things intended for harm and turns them into good. I know that God is good. I know all of this. But sometimes, I feel . . .


I had hoped to make a wonderful announcement soon. Instead I’m disappointed again. On March 31st, I discovered I was pregnant. We decided to wait until our first scheduled u/s to make the announcement. We were hopeful that this one would take. It hasn’t. We are now in the midst of our third miscarriage. Third. We have been dealing with this “threatened miscarriage” for two weeks already. The pregnancy is not viable, there’s basically nothing left but an empty sac, which is not passing on its own, so we had to schedule a D & C for next Wednesday. The day before what would have been our first scheduled u/s. Five days before Mother’s Day.


I don’t understand any of this. I’m hurt, disappointed, confused and angry. Very angry. I’m angry with my body for once again rejecting the life that was trying to grow within. And I’m angry with God. I know He could have intervened, but He didn’t. For whatever reason, known only to Him, He has allowed me to carry this burden again. As I have continued to delight myself in Him, I have not gotten the desires of my heart, but rather heartache.


I have an amazing, healthy and beautiful daughter that I love with all of my heart and I am eternally grateful for, but I wanted at least one more. Is that so wrong? This has been a five year journey. We are “older” first time parents and I desperately wanted to give Sweet Pea a sibling or two, because the likelihood of our passing when she is still relatively young is pretty strong. Of course that’s not the only reason we wanted another child. We just did.


The thing that gets me, is that those who seem least able or worthy of having children, have no problem doing so. Teens who are still children themselves, girls and guys who’d rather party than parent, drug addicts, welfare recipients, child abusers or murderers, etc. Rarely does a day go by that there’s not news of terrible child abuse. Just yesterday I heard of a local man and wife who’d been arrested for extreme child abuse. They admitted to breaking both the legs and an arm, as well as numerous other injuries, on their four year old daughter, over a potty training incident!


Once again, I just don’t understand. I come from a screwed up, dysfunctional family, both immediate and extended. I am the only one who’s worked to better myself. Booze, drugs, poverty, stripping, welfare, abuse, etc, is the normal way of life to my family. So is breeding like rabbits. The girls (my cousins) have lots of kids, who all have different fathers, whom they seldom marry. The guys really aren’t any better – it’s just harder to determine how many illegitimate children they really have. None of them take responsibility for the actual raising of the kids they have.


I grew up knowing life wasn’t fair. I accepted it. I didn’t really care that I’d been neglected, sexually and emotionally abused, was treated like a piece of dirt for being a welfare kid (that was before it was cool to be so), and many other things I survived or overcame from my childhood. I believed I could change the direction of my life and I did so. And yes, it was with God’s help. But He didn’t offer me anything that He hasn’t also offered my family (and millions others), I just reached out to receive it.


But this one thing makes me cry out to God, “It’s not fair!” Why is it that I am having such difficulty, when I’ve overcome so much and have so much to offer? We can provide a safe, loving home, and meet the needs of a child financially, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. And I know I’m not the only one. Before I became a Christian, I’d only known one person who’d dealt with infertility – my friend LaNae, who was a Christian. But since I’ve become a Christian, I’ve met, known, and have heard of lots of other people who also struggle with this issue. Once again, it’s not fair!


So now we are faced with more choices. Do we continue on, trying to have another child of our own, trusting God to provide, and likely facing more bitter disappointment? Do we look into the option of adoption? Do we simply quit, accept the one child God has given us and be content to be a family of three? I’ve thought of adoption in the past, but I would rather it be a choice because that is what we want to do, not because we are forced into it because we have no other option.


I ‘feel’ very differently than what I ‘know’ and right now, this is my reality. I don’t need pat Christian answers or patronizing platitudes. Since the miscarriage is not yet complete, obviously neither is the grief. This is something we will get through, but I wish we didn’t have to. Frankly, it sucks. I wish this wasn’t happening again, but it is. And I know, that in the grand scheme of things, my problems are pretty minor compared to what millions, perhaps billions, throughout the world are suffering. Still, they are my problems and they do hurt. I haven’t been ok in the last couple of weeks, and it will probably be awhile before I am. Please don’t tell me that my pain will help someone else some day, because right now, I just don’t care.


Thanks for letting me vent and process. Thank you for allowing me to share my anguish, anger, and acceptance. Again.

It is Well with My Soul

The title for this post is taken from the classic old hymn by the same name. The song, “It is Well With My Soul,” was written in 1874 by Horatio Spafford. He wrote it following a series of tragic events – the death of his only son, then the Chicago fire (which ruined him financially), and finally the death of all four of his daughters, when the ship they were on (with his wife) collided with another ship and sank. Passing by the area in which they died, on his way to join his grieving wife, he was inspired to pen the words to this now famous hymn. I think it is safe to say that Horatio Spafford knew tragedy intimately.

How was he able to respond so well and continue on in the face of such tragedy? Only through the grace of God. He knew God as his Father, Lord, Comforter and Hope. His faith in God was built on the solid rock of Jesus, not the soft sand of circumstance. He and his wife made it through the darkest of days and had three other children, two girls and one boy. Sadly, this boy too died. In 1881 the Spafford family moved to Jerusalem and helped found the American Colony, whose mission it was to serve the poor. They remained there the rest of their days, fulfilling this mission.

I’m grateful to say I haven’t experienced this much loss in my life. Like all of us though, I have experienced my own losses. “It is Well with My Soul” came to mind this morning, while I was reflecting on my latest loss.

Yesterday I experienced my second miscarriage. Though I suspected I was, I hadn’t been sure I was pregnant, so there wasn’t time to get attached or make plans or fall in love. And yet, somehow I did love. I grieve now for what I’m missing, for what could have been. But I grieve with faith and hope. I know that though I may not know them here and now, I will know my unborn babies someday, in heaven. And I know that my Father, the best Daddy ever, is caring for them better than I even could. I know they will never know pain, sickness, sorrow or death. This comforts me.

For those of you who may wonder, yes I did know for sure that I was having a miscarriage. Having experienced this before, I knew what was happening. For the sake of privacy and propriety, I’ll spare the details.

Most of you don’t know me personally and don’t know how difficult the journey to having a family has been. It took a year and a half to get pregnant the first time, which ended in the first miscarriage. It then took eight months to get pregnant again. We were so happy when our precious little Reagan was born. We wanted to have another one, so we began trying right away. Because of our ages, we’re both 39, we knew we couldn’t wait. We agreed to the deadline of turning 40 (which is December for both of us) to be the point in which we stop trying to conceive.

As that time draws near, I realize that our family may be just the three of us. We know we are incredibly blessed to have Reagan and love her as much as we possibly can. We trust the Lord and His plan for our lives. If that includes another child, we will happily welcome it into our arms. If not, we will focus on the amazing one He’s already given us and be content with her. I know He understands my heaviness of heart, and He is with me always.

Still, I’m left with questions there are no answers too. Why is it so hard for us, when we have so much to offer and want it so badly? Why is it so easy for those who abuse what they are given? Why, why, why?! I know there are no answers for these, and the many other questions I have, this side of heaven. Maybe someday I’ll know the answers. Maybe someday it won’t matter. Though I do long for another child, right now, I’m thankful for the wonderful husband and daughter I have. I know I am a Blessed One.


It is Well with My Soul (first verse and chorus)

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

By Horatio Spafford

My First 'Real' Mother's Day

Mother's Day has always been difficult for me. My mother suffers from depression and, presumably because of that, she's never shown any interest in my life. With that said, obviously we are not close. Yes, I've prayed for her. Yes, I've forgiven her. Yes, I know she's done the best she can. But all of that doesn't mean that everything is just fine and it doesn't mean she doesn't still have the ability to hurt me. Trust me, Hallmark does not have a card for every occasion.

For years I longed to me a mom and have a family of my own. I sort of comforted myself with the knowledge that I was a 'mom' to my pets, but I wanted a child too. Two years ago, after a year and a half of trying, I got pregnant and then miscarried. It was excruciatingly painful. It happened a month before Mother's Day. After another eight months of trying, I got pregnant again. This time, thank God, the pregnancy went to term and last September, our beautiful baby girl was born. Reagan is the joy of my life and I am SO thankful to have her. Now here we are, right before Mother's Day. I'm excited because this year I'm included - I'm a 'real' mom. But I'm also a bit sad. My unborn child has been on my heart lately. It became important for me to do something to remember and honor the baby I lost.

I recently joined Squidoo and decided to do a page or lens that is dedicated to my little one in heaven. If you would like to know more of my miscarriage story, I would truly be honored to have you check out this lens at www.squidoo.com/miscarriagememory

Thanks and God bless you, and if you're a mom (even if it is to a pet) Happy Mother's Day!

"Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: "Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all." Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate." ~ Proverbs 31:28-31