Letting Go and Letting God

The ladies in our church put me in charge of doing a devotional for a baby shower they were hosting.  I reluctantly agreed, because the word 'devotional' just doesn't make me feel comfortable.  Personally, I don't feel I have enough spiritual advice to even begin to consider my words or thoughts devotional material.  But, I agreed anyway and figured out a loop hole in my favor.

Stories are my specialty.  So, I figured possibly, just maybe, if I wrote a story and threw in some bible verses, it just might pass for a devotional.

Hot dog, I'm on to something!  (Yes, I know, I haven't even reached pre-school in my spiritual walk.)

Good news is, I think I fooled all 25 ladies that were there.  They thought it was a devotional the whole time, he he.

Behold, my story-with-some-bible-verses-added-in-turned-into-a-devotional:

Letting Go and Letting God

Congratulations, C on your soon to arrive precious baby.  The Psalms declare, “Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from Him.”  You are about to embark on an adventure that many have experienced, few have wished they hadn’t experienced and none have mastered.  Parenthood.  Motherhood.  Loss of control-hood.

I aptly titled this devotion Letting Go and Letting God because in my experience, all 6 full years of raising children, that one of the REALLY big lessons I was intended to learn was how NOT to be in control.  Now, I wouldn’t consider myself an overtly control-hungry person (my husband and brother might disagree).  Throughout high school, college and my early professional years, I was driven, goal-oriented and meticulous.  But, I didn’t lose sleep over not making the All-A Honor Roll, or keeping a 3-point whatever-ever GPA, or even finishing a lengthy, expensive college career in less time a Med-student would put in.  So, I never considered myself a “control freak.”

Then, I got pregnant.  My control-freak tendencies started to surface but not in the typical fashion you would expect.  Finances were a big worry.  Which vitamins should I take?  How should I wear my seat belt safely?  Will I go back to work?  Who will watch my precious if I do?  Which car seat is the safest?  They were all very typical questions for a first-time pregnant mom, but they were bringing to the surface a deep darkness I was blissfully unaware of.

You see, babies have a way of stripping you to your core and bringing you face to face with your Maker whether you want to go there or not.  I must admit, after reading this through numerous times, I started to fixate on the word “strip” and considered changing it to a less-ferocious adjective to explain the breaking down process.  But, I chose to leave it because for the first time in my life, when that newborn entered our home, it was the closest I had ever been to being permanently void of wearing clothes.  Our house was easily PG-13 and there weren’t too many people complaining about it.  So stripping it is.

This breaking down process starts with the mental-stripping of longing for a baby. Whether time is on your side or not, quite a bit of soul-searching and relationship breaking and building occurs while you’re just waiting.  Then, the pregnancy.  Ohhhhh, the pregnancy begins the physical-stripping portion of the process.  Who would have ever thought “those people” were serious when they spoke of strange food cravings.  Jim was sure he was going to have to make a special trip to Sam’s Club to buy me a 5 gallon jar of pickles for the first baby, or stop by a fruit stand every day to buy me a watermelon for the second baby.  And pains.  Back pains, belly pains, swelling pains, head pains, foot pains, leg pains, ear pains (those were Jim’s ears aching), etc. etc. etc.  Pain is your body’s way of telling you something is wrong.  Pain is God’s way of lightly tapping you on the shoulder to get your attention.  Then, the bundle of joy arrives and the stripping is kicked into high gear.  Contractions, labor and delivery (I won’t even begin to discuss the “literal” and “metaphorical” magnitude of stripping that happens during that whole process), hospital gowns, doctors for your baby, doctors for you, family dynamics, hormones, breastfeeding, feelings of confidence being swallowed by insecurities and doubt and the end-all be-all à the complete, null and void, absence of sleep.

There’s a reason why sleep deprivation is used in torture camps.  Sleep deprivation is serious stuff.  It’s enough to cause you to not want to brush your teeth in the morning, unknowingly put your underwear on inside out or rationalize why it’s okay to go longer than 2 days without bathing.  It causes you to make drastic decisions.  I remember at one point, about 2 weeks into severe sleep deprivation, I found myself having to place post-it notes on the changing table to remind myself to change her diaper in the middle of the night.  One late night incident about that time, Jim confidently proclaimed through his sleep-deprived frontal lobe of rationale “That baby is trying to kill us!” and I burst into a wet-slobbery-sobbing fit of denial.

The stripping process is painful and ugly while en route, BUT, because you know this isn’t only going to be about how hard newborns can be, the end of the journey is breathtakingly beautiful.  You see, as we’ve all heard before, God uses our hurt, pain, hollowness and sleep deprivation to draw us closer to Him.  Which, in newborn-land, is the divinely intelligent and perfect design God had for becoming a parent.  He knew that once we entered life as an adult and things became fairly easy to control, we would struggle with finding the desire to seek His will for our lives.  So enter in a baby.  Flesh of our own and helpless, inexplicably beautiful and mysterious, yet still manages to turn our world upside down.  Never, would the idea of giving up on this child enter our thoughts.  So at our lowest point, when pain, sleep, rationale, and even personal hygiene is at its worst, what else is there to do but give up control by letting go and letting God.

2 Corinthians 12:9 God said “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Now, for the other mothers in here with teenagers, they might disagree on my earlier reference to things being at their worst with a newborn.  I’ve heard that mothers of teenagers known why animals eat their young.  Regardless…  Remember this, whether it’s trying to weigh the pros and cons of a hand-me-down crib vs. buying a new one or the tough decision about returning back to work or feeling like your body is broken, always, ALWAYS, turn to Him.  He is in control.  Ultimately.  Completely.  Forever.  And he loves that baby more than you could ever fathom.

Psalms 139

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.

I’ll wrap this up with a quote I have grown to love.  I have no idea who Kevin DeYoung is, but apparently, he was important enough to have been included on the front of our church bulletin one Sunday and I’ve had his quote on the fridge for over 3 ½ years.  When seeds of doubt or anxiousness are creeping in and thoughts of “steering the wagon” on your own are inundating your psyche, remember this:

“We obsess about the future and we get anxious, because anxiety, after all, is simply living out the future before it gets here.  We must renounce our sinful desire to know the future and to be in control.  We are not gods.  We walk by faith, not by sight.  We risk because God does not risk.  We walk into the future in God-glorifying confidence, not because the future is known to us but because it is known to God.  And that’s all we need to know.  Worry about the future is not simply a character tic it is the sin of unbelief, an indication that our hearts are not resting in the promises of God.”

Great Bible Verses for strength, renewal and hope

²¹ A woman giving birth to a child has pain because her time has come; but when her baby is born she forgets the anguish because of her joy that a child is born into the world. John 16

¹⁷ Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. James 1

¹¹ For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29

⁵Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;
⁶ in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3

⁶ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. Phillippians 4

Easter 2012

This year, I won't sugar-coat it, Easter was very disappointing.  It was not the joyous Christian celebration I was looking forward to.  We were slap in the middle of our 3-week-long sickness marathon and it was the 2nd year in a row someone was sick and we couldn't attend church as a family.  It truly was a struggle for me because what mother doesn't want her family together on Easter?  Last year I could somewhat stomach it, but 2 years in a row was really wearing me thin.

I was upset.  Sad.  Bummed.  Frustrated.  Angry at that stupid old devil that was robbing me of my deserving and well-intended joy.

And on top of all that, that was 2 years in a row I didn't get Easter pictures.  That's just not right.

But as usual, God brought it all right back to square one and gently reminded me of His sovereignty.

Days after Easter, I found our children playing nicely on the back porch.  Katherine had asked me for a bowl earlier, but since they would be "outside" I didn't pry too much.  I just let them be.  And what a blessing I received for letting them just be.

Unbeknownst to me, Katherine had been learning about foot washing in school.  God bless her teacher for teaching the children about it, because it never would have crossed my mind to take the time to do such.

I remember walking by the back door, something catching my eye, stopping to look and almost losing my breath.  Brandon was safely in his high chair, so I grabbed the camera and while snapping away, I had to periodically wipe the tears welling up in my eyes so I could take pictures.

My babies, my precious babies, were washing each other's feet.  Gently, caring for each other, with love.

It was then that I realized even though my desires were pure and good for us all to attend church together as a family, my trust was not in knowing that God would still find a way to teach my children about His love.

Wow, how humbling.

I did my best to snap pictures, wipe a tear, snap more pictures, try to calm Brandon who was getting upset that his mother had seemingly abandoned him in his high chair, and just   e n j o y    the hand of God working right in front of me.

Thankfully they never noticed me hiding behind the door.

I did manage to still pull out my stubborn picture-loving self one Sunday months later and take pictures of them dressed in the same clothes they wore/were going to wear Easter Sunday.  It was nowhere near the innocent, beautiful, candid, meaningful shots I got of them washing each other's feet, but it certainly was a terrific reminder of how my earthly desires are not always the best.

Hi, I'd like you to meet my children, Miss Photogenic, Mr. I've-inherited-my-father's-love-of-pictures and Mr. can-we-say-naptime.

 

After the kids came inside from washing each other's feet, I had the chance and about 1 minute to talk about what foot washing meant and servant-hood.  They were nowhere as interested in what I had to say, but I have chosen to trust that God had them hear/learn exactly what He wanted them to.

Thank you, Lord, for choosing to gently reveal your perfect ways, just when I need tiny reminders of your sovereignty.

"Haven't I been saying that to you?" - God style

When our first little bundle of 7 lb. 1 oz. joy was born, I was thrust into the world of loving more than I ever thought was possible. That baby became my every thought, every dream, every waking moment.

Soon after her birth was when my eyes were truly opened to how much our Heavenly Father loves His children. It took having a child to begin understanding the tip of the iceberg of the love He has for us.

Drawing the first correlations to God's love for me occurred when all I wanted to do was stare at her, the infant, all day long. She really didn't do much at all, but I was fascinated with everything about her. I wanted to watch how she moved her lips, watch her growing, sleeping, breathing, eating, changing before my very eyes and all her little daily routines. And I thought, I betcha God wants to know all about my day too. Then when she started walking, I wanted to encourage her, congratulate her, assist her, coax her to walk a little further and reassure her that I was there to catch her if she fell. It dawned on me, God desired to do all those things for me too. Then when she was able to start talking, I craved to hear to her squeaky little voice, teach her more and have her talk back to me. God desired to do all those things with me too.

Another kid added to the mix and four years worth of realizing how much God desires my attention and thoughts really brought out the mirror in my life. The mirror isn't visibly there (thank goodness), but the mirror in my words, actions and thoughts revolving around these two kids that reflected God's own desires for my life.

I can't count how many times I've said something out loud, especially to our two children, and thought, I wonder how many times God has said that to me and I just wasn't listening. Sometimes, the words are quite humorous and others are just plain heart-wrenching when I realize how much I truly don't include Him in my life.

I have this picture of a typical day: God is up in heaven, munchin' on some warm, soft, fresh-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies (this is my vision ok, that's pretty close to heaven for me). He's watching the boob tube, with a Live Feed pointed directly at and in my house. Reality TV at it's finest, I say. And as he listens and watches our mostly mundane, yet somewhat hilarious lives unfolding, he hears me parenting two children. Occasionally, he's proud of my words, actions and thoughts but mostly he's left speechless with his mouth wide open, crumbs falling out, and is flabbergasted with the irony attached to my parental words of wisdom. For instance, I have just said to the biting child, "I don't care how tired you are or how awful you feel, that still doesn't give you the right to bite, hit, scratch or pull hair." Don't you know God's thinking, "wasn't it just yesterday, after church, she was exasperated in the car because Nathan was tired and all she could do was whine and get snippy with the whole family and her excuse was 'I'm tired'?" The main difference: about 30 years. And considering how long God has been around, it's negligible.

I've been keeping a mental note of the phrases I say all the time that could easily be turned around for God to say back to me. There are many I can't remember and many are still yet to come, so I've listed out the ones I do remember with the hopes and prayer that I'll bring more self-awareness to my deceitful behavior and God will find mercy upon me to bring about a change in my parenting techniques.

I first read through these phrases imagining me saying them, then read through them again imagining God whispering these words in my heart after I've acted like the child I'm attempting to parent:

"Are things really that bad to cause you to be so dramatic and throw yourself around?"

"Don't you know, I'm on your side? I'm here for you and I need you to trust and believe me."

"I guess I'm gonna have to just let you hurt yourself."

"I just want to hear about your day. I'm your biggest fan. I wasn't there to see you and I enjoy talking to you and hearing your stories, that's why I ask about your day all the time."

"Will you hurry it up! Why does it take so long to get out of the house, I'd have more luck mobilizing the army!" (although I think they might be a bit more efficient and that one might be for more of my husband saying it to me instead of God)

"You can make this hard, or choose to do it the easy way. It's your choice."

"A little hunger pains don't warrant that type of reaction."

"Come here. Come here, come here, come here, come here, come here. Put the stick down and come here."

"Your teeth hurt? Try having kids!"

"You want me to put a band-aid on that?"

"Come here, can I just hold you?"

"I love you more than you'll ever know."

It could be that I just haven't experienced it yet, but I can't imagine anything getting to the heart of a believer, any faster or straighter, than having children. Thank you God for the children you've blessed us with and for your gracious love paralleled in our lives.

Ups and downs

What makes one day better than another? How is it I can have over a week of days that make me wonder what I've done right in this world, then be slammed with one that negates it all. I think if I knew the answer and how to prevent bad days, I'd write a book and make millions.


For me, sleep has a lot to do with it. Mine and my children's. Runny noses that lead to ear infections, teething and generally doing something for myself while it's quiet at night, all find ways to rob me and my children of precious, precious sleep.


And possibly hormones. Yes, I admit it. Those annoying little chemicals find surreptitious ways to control minutes of my life I'll never get back. Predicting them? Ha! I don't think so. Controlling them? Might as well write them off as one of those "that explains it" things, kind of like teething.


Whether or not the house is a mess. I am shallow enough of a person to let the house's "state" be in charge of my moods. Although, I have come to the conclusion that cleanliness isn't necessarily my goal any more, it is clutter-control. Floors, bathtubs, towels, etc. used to get "cleaned" much more. Now, the truth is, the smell they emanate or their level of stickiness decides their soapy fate.


If I feel rushed or have a lot to do in a little bit of time. Deadlines, real or self-imposed, and my ability to get them accomplished are factors leading to a good day.


Children's moods. They have bad days like big people, and sometimes they're just gonna have a crappy day no matter what I do. 'Nuff said.


Yet somehow, somedays, when I've had little sleep, a child or two is in a bad mood, little to no "picking up" has been done lately and we're running late to get to school on time - I can still manage to have a good day.


There seems to be no rhyme or reason to it, and I somehow manage to avoid feeling like...


There is one thing that is for sure: God always meets me there. Wherever I am - apologizing to my daughter for not mommy-ing well, finding no energy to provide entertainment other than the TV, resorting to fast food for supper, not truly thinking out how to handle a biting child and stomping my feet on the ground because I'm not being heard. I am being heard and He's begging for my attention.

And when I am finally broken enough to realize I can't do it, I'm having a bad day, and I call out to Him, there is peace. It might be that really nice peace that makes the room quiet and children get along for about 5 seconds, but then, it's usually followed with the peace that follows me through the continued chaos of the day.

Why does it take so long to relinquish? Why is it usually my last thought? I guess, because I'm human and broken.

I hope this means I'm due for some more good days.

His children

These last couple of weeks I've really been wrestling with an important decision regarding my children's health. I'm purposely not going to go into detail, so bear with me.

First of all, our health care system has "recommendations" for our children's health that are based on experts, scientific research, a history of past illnesses, cost and many other factors. For the most part, these recommendations are genuinely safe and are in the best interest of our children. Although, there have been instances where complications have arisen from a seemingly safe and popular practice. Enter in confusion.

Secondly, I believe God placed in me a desire to question and be a thinker. I do not automatically believe that doctors know everything that is best for my children's health. I respect that they certainly have loads more education in the field and more experience, but I'm their mom. Enter in doubt.

Which leads to the dilemma I've been struggling with lately. For weeks, I've been tossing the idea of whether or not to do this procedure and the comment I made to Jim yesterday was this, "Either decision scares me. There is no right answer. It is the 'lesser of the two evils'. I feel totally helpless with whatever decision is made."

So today, when I left the Doctor's office with Nathan, I was overwhelmed with confusion and doubt and prayed, "Dear God, Please protect my child."

And it hit me. Oops, I must correct my prayer.

"Dear God, Please protect your child."

And it hit me again. How silly did that sound? I was pleading with the creator of the universe and everything in it, the One who loves his children more than I could ever fathom, to protect his own child. It really started sounding silly then. Almost like if I went up to one of my mommy-friends and pleaded with them to protect their child. Well, of course they would. They would give their life for that child, and here I am fearful that God will not protect his own.

A peace came over me. I was reminded that my children are not my own. I have been given the awesome responsibility to raise them, but ultimately they are His. And what makes me feel even better is that no matter how hard I try to make "all the right decisions," God's loving hand is still protecting these precious beings in spite of my inevitable mistakes I try so hard to avoid.

I still don't feel good about my decision, but the alternative would have made me feel worse. Thankfully, His children are ultimately in His care.

All the time. Always.