columbine reckoning

Our son went to sleep in a big cardboard box, his imaginary spaceship, surrounded by stuffed animals. We watched Ms. Kleborg, in her interview with Diane Sawyer, grapple with the reckoning of her son's life and it's horrible ending. We could not un-remember the tragedy that brought us to our literal knees 17 years ago. I specifically remembered asking God to end it right away and prevent more death.

Tonight we considered the statistics of how much young people are exposed to violent video games and movies. We wondered, quietly, how we can be good parents who thwart our only child from the evils of this world while feeling helpless against its rulers. I did not disturb my husband as he snuggled against our four-year-old son in his bed, a physical shield against the ravages of this world. I texted a message of, I hope, comfort and support to my 17-year-old nephew who battles these same evils.

What incredible times for us all.

beautiful interruption

Last night, my son was going to bed early (according to pre-daylight savings time anyway). The lights were out already. I sang to him a few bars of "Yes Jesus Loves Me" and then invited him to our regular prayer. I started reciting it and he interrupted me. "No mommy! Stop." I asked what was the matter, and instead of replying to me I heard him praying his own prayer. I couldn't hear most of it but I caught "... bless Mommy and Daddy... In Jesus' name. Amen."

I'm pretty sure I just sat there with my mouth open. Then I tucked him in and wished him sweet dreams.

How beautiful is that? Sweet dreams indeed.

a simple prayer

I love that my son is growing up in the church, and that from his earliest years he's being introduced to the god of the universe as the loving, perfect god He is who wants to live with him forever. And very slowly, I'm trying to reflect my beliefs in front of him so he grows up understanding that I believe every word that I just said.

So far, I don't often get take that opportunity. I miss learning moments of pointing out God's creation, I swear too often, and I'm not exactly reading Bible verses out loud day and night. But I'm learning to do one or two things consistenty, and one of those things is prayer.

I pray with, or rather for, my son every night that I tuck him in. The Lord's prayer is way beyond his comprehension, let alone memorization, and the old "Now I lay me down to sleep" has always sounded morbid to me. Why would I die before I wake? Gives me the creeps. So I made up my own. It's simple and focuses on gratitude first.

Thank you Jesus for today
Thank you for my family
Protect me as I go tomorrow
In Jesus' name
Amen.

Some nights he repeats some of the words like "today" or "tomorrow." Sometimes he folds his hands along with me. He usually says Amen after me. Most of the time he's content to just listen and absorb it as another bedtime routine, which suits me fine. And some nights I actually forget. Fortunately, God's not checking an attendance sheet.

Another prayer we do together when we think of it is saying grace at the dinner table. I won't even tell you how rare this is, but we've nailed down a simple format that he'll memorize without too much trouble.

Bless the food
In Jesus' name
Amen.

Eventually I'll expand into other things like reading the Bible and praying with my son, and helping him express himself through prayer. But faith doesn't have to be complicated, because Jesus didn't come to start a religion. Simple is the way to go.

so my toddler may have swallowed a piece of plastic

I may never know, but there's a good chance my son swallowed a piece of plastic that broke off of a little spoon while we were eating ice cream yesterday. No bigger than the size of the white part of my pinky fingernail.

I was running out of things to be paranoid about, anyway.

So I called the pediatrician, and the nurse told me that since he didn't act like he was choking or anything, if he swallowed it it did not go into the lungs. Fortunately, as she explained, everything below the lungs gets bigger on its way down so more than likely it will pass through. I have to watch him over the next week for signs of stomach aches, bloody stools, or vomiting which could indicate that the piece has gotten caught on its way down.

My mom and I prayed for the boy that afternoon, but as I laid down to sleep I started thinking about him again. I knew I wouldn't stop worrying, so I got up and prayed. I asked God to dissolve the piece of plastic if it's still in there and restore his health. After a few minutes I got the sense that my petition had been heard, and I felt peace.

I went to bid him a final goodnight, and opened his door. It was completely dark except for a dim nightlight, and I hadn't turned on a light to pray. As I started to close his door behind me, out of the corner of my eye I saw three bright, white lights flash in a row -- pulse. Pulse. Pulse. At the first one I figured it was my eyesight adjusting, but by the third I realized something was different. I looked around -- everything was dark and still. I checked the CO2 and smoke detectors in the hallway -- normal. Headlights? No -- the blinds are closed and the door was too far shut for them to come in no matter what the angle. Burglar with a flashlight? Unlikely, since the pattern was steady and not erratic.

What did I just see? Or, what did I miss?

I went to my son's bed and just rested my hand on his torso. Breathing normal. I went back to bed and eventually went to sleep.

day 5 of my ear infection

It's 6:39 a.m. and I'm blogging before my son and husband get up. Not that I can't wait until my son goes to school, but I'm antsy anyway. I've just left an update on Fa*cebo*ok requesting prayer, as I'm genuinely surprised that I still can't hear, still can't chew food, still have plenty of pain (including the roof of my mouth and even my teeth), and still can't work. I've lost a week's wages, but that's not what upsets me so much as missing out on life in general.

Oddly enough, I can hear a bird singing outside right now as it welcomes the dawn.

Last night I started thinking about what I might learn from this experience. I guess I'm learning what it's like to be in pain to some degree all day, every day, trying to stay ahead of it with medication and slowing down life to its most basic elements. This is useful in helping me to empathize with my dear husband, who has been unfortunate enough to suffer from tendonitis in both wrists -- first the left, shortly after our son was born (because of the way he was holding him) -- then the right, which was brought on by wall-mounting our TV by himself. The left one took a year to go away with therapy. Who knows how long the right will take?

For whatever reason, it has taken me until this morning to really seek God in this. I've barely prayed in almost a week. Not that I blame Him. He certainly wouldn't bring about an injury or sickness. But He has opted to allow me to go through this, and that's why I need to pay closer attention.

is house hunting more stressful than an infertility battle?

Yesterday morning we got the news that our bid on a really cute house in a great neighborhood with lots of upgrades fell through. We were back at square one. Does that sound stressful? Not really. Except that we had already sold our condo and are on a deadline to find a house according to the contract.

My husband said that this whole shitbag is more stressful than our miscarriages, visits with the infertility clinic, and waiting for the results of those early ultrasounds. It's not for me to argue with him -- those are his feelings, after all. But it sure made me think.

Disclaimer: I would never EVER judge anyone else's journey -- this is only about ours.

I'm not sure whether it's the constant scrutiny of possible homes, seeing a bunch that are either great but expensive or affordable but scary, jumping through insurance and closing date hoops to see if everything can align properly, or what, but holy shit this is the most stress I've been under since I can remember. Yes, even compared to the long, dark valley of death known as our journey through infertility. Even compared to my weakest days as a middle-aged mother to a toddler. I have had moments when I've been crying and trembling, not knowing what to do next, and desperately crying to God to give me peace and wisdom.

Why is God letting us go through this the hard way? Why can't he just make it easy for us? Why am I letting it get to me so intensely?

Ridiculous questions, right? But questions we ask in just about every really difficult situation. I suppose it's because the stress is tightly compressed into a looming deadline that makes it harder. I know in my heart we'll find a house that's right for us. I know it will happen sooner than later. But I can't control it -- I can pick a house I like and want to make an offer in good faith, but the rest is completely out of my hands and I seriously hate it because I have to wait until the next day to find out what comes next. The dichotomy of immediacy and drawn-out waiting is agonizing. Our journey to parenthood, by contrast, was made up of days and months and years where we could completely lose ourselves in other things or spend time exploring issues. Not so with house hunting. It's hurry up and wait, be wise and make a good investment but don't fall in love with a house and start decorating it in your mind because you could lose it the next day. The search for a house could be over this week, or it could take another month. There's no way of knowing.

In this process, I'm trying to lean completely on God. I'm pretty sure there is a lesson in this to draw closer to Him, to really listen for his voice. The other day I was at the end of my rope, at the end of myself, and I asked Him to carry me. 

I have actually slept really well the last two nights and have found other things to think about (which is really handy). 

I am learning that when I hold on tighter to God, I can start to let go of everything else. 

To be continued.

anxiety and the search for peace: part 3

In part 1, I admitted my battle with insomnia and identified how I would search for an exit route. In part 2, I talked about various Bible verses that I'm allowing to speak to me about experiencing God's peace. Today is an update on sleep and awareness of anxiety.

After a good couple of weeks reducing my normal 2-3 cups of coffee to just 1, I have to say that this is definitely helping. I love coffee but it's time to admit that the hormone changes brought on by pregnancy have probably made me more sensitive to caffeine. Some days we make half-caff at home so I can enjoy two cups, and occasionally I just have to have another half cup of regular. If I go over this limit I notice a difference at night.

Meanwhile, I am trying to get up before my husband and son to spend just a few minutes in prayer. Before the coffee is made, before the lights are on and the sun is up, I sit at the table or on the couch and pray. I am also trying to empty my thoughts and give God space to speak to me -- to listen for His voice and accept His grace. This is actually pretty hard, because like every mom my brain is multi-tasking on multiple levels and time zones and dimensions, and sitting quietly with God takes effort. But it's worth it. Because I come away with a renewed sense of God's peace in my bones, knowing that today is a new day.

Even on the days when I don't think I can last until bedtime because my son has been screaming about nothing I can identify for the last 10 minutes, I remember that I can do all this through him who gives me strength. (Phil 4:13)

One other thing I'm becoming more aware of is the sources of anxiety in my life. It's not hard to name a lot of them, but I'm starting to notice little things too and trying to do things to make them not so. Like using better communication with my husband, leaving the laundry in the dryer, or letting go of who buys our condo and waiting to see God work in that. The expression Let go and let God seems trite sometimes but doing so truly brings peace.

Have I had times in the last couple weeks when I wake up and my brain starts churning anyway? Unfortunately yes. When that happens, I'm acknowledging that I'm awake and I tell myself it's no big deal, that I can go back to sleep. One night I woke up and didn't realize that I'd already been asleep so I took NyQuil. As soon as I went back to bed I realized what I'd done. Ha! Pretty silly. Oh well. I also still wake up about four times a night, but I'm trying not to worry about that either.

The truth is that I will never run out of things to worry about. I will never have every need settled, every desire met, everything I want, every problem solved. That's just reality. That is also why Jesus invites us to let him do the heavy lifting and learn from him instead. It take conscious effort but it's worth it.

anxiety and the search for peace: part 2

I'm looking for "peace" and "rest" in the Bible and am finding things I've seen plenty of times before, but am giving them a chance to sink in. I need rest for my soul.

Matthew 11: 28-30 NIV says 28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

I really like The Message version too though.

Matthew 11: 28-30 “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

Shortly after 6:00 this morning I got up, showered and dressed for the day, and started the coffee pot. Before turning on any other lights, I sat in the dark living room and prayed. Then remembered to be quiet and invite the Lord to speak to me. I wasn't sure how long I should wait, and I knew that was a sign of impatience so I waited a bit longer. The only thing I felt the Holy Spirit say to me was "Don't work."

Today? Next week? For a few years? I have no idea, but today is all I need. One day at a time.

the soldier

Yesterday my mom told/reminded me that "sometimes you just need a good cry." I don't think I listened, but I ended up crying in my bathroom about 10 minutes before I left to meet her and a friend for a beer.

This morning, I cried again at the table while my husband fed our son some oatmeal and my coffee sat in its cup getting cold. My frustration, anxiety, stress, and loneliness caught up with me this morning. Silently, I went to lay on the bed and cry it out a bit. I started praying in my mind, and just said "Lord help me."

Moments later, He gave me a hint of a picture of a soldier. I thought for a moment, and the words that gelled together were "A soldier never abandons his post, no matter how hard the battle gets."

A small idea, but it was enough to set me on my feet again and carry on.

Right now, hours later, I'm watching the boy while my husband runs to the hardware store. I just now watched him holding a toy and took his first real steps across the living room floor. Right in front of me. As if he meant it just for me.

I burst out in tears. Good ones.

I just took this photo to commemorate the day, since he was sitting next to me.

Thank you, Lord.

intentionally grateful

It's too easy to find things to complain about. Therefore, I often have to be intentional about gratitude - finding something small or big to recognize and say "yeah, that's pretty cool."

So here goes: Last night my son had a huge blister on his upper lip that we were afraid was turning into a massive cold sore. We put him to bed on time and didn't do anything (it didn't seem like there was anything we could do). As we do every night, we went in together to bid him a final goodnight while he was sleeping. Together, we each laid a hand on him and whispered a prayer for Jesus to heal him. This morning, no blister. No evidence of a blister. Just a healthy, happy, smiling baby standing up in his crib! Oh, guess it's time to take down the crib mobile...

Thank you, Jesus, for reminding me to include you in the little things as well as the big things. I am a grateful gal.

i refuse to become a victim of fear

I had the flu last Friday, and had been up sick most of Thursday night. My mother advised me to sleep and not turn on the TV. Unquestioningly, I obliged. It wasn’t until late that afternoon, when I was on Fac.ebo.ok and saw everyone’s posts, that I learned what had happened. I have periodically wept quietly in little moments since then – in the car, in the shower, at my desk – anytime I was alone with my thoughts long enough to let the awful hideousness of the situation enter my mind. I refused to watch the news or even read blog entries talking about it.

It wasn’t until this morning, with my son at daycare and husband at work, that I was finally alone long enough to pour out my rage and grief to God. I thought, I need to know.

I need to know that I’m not raising my son, only to have him cut down mercilessly by the devil, who “…prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” 1 Peter 5:8

I need to know that no matter how long I enjoy life with my child here on earth, we will live out eternity in Heaven.

I need to know peace.

As if in answer to this silent request, my daily devotional yesterday reminded me that there is, of course, a bigger picture.

Proverbs 24:14 (NIV)

Know also that wisdom is like honey for you:

    If you find it, there is a future hope for you,

    and your hope will not be cut off.

The Bible – especially Proverbs – is very clear that wisdom is the most important possession any of us can acquire in this life. Not money, not a wonderful relationship, nothing else replaces wisdom. And true wisdom comes only from God.

Right now a fresh battle is being waged in the war over gun control. Let me be among those who remind us that, even if consensus is reached, the government cannot give us peace. Government ultimately cannot save us or give us hope. It’s not in their power.

Not all things are knowable, but hope is the hallmark of a life of faith in God – and is exactly what the enemy wants to rob us all of. The devil wants to replace hope with fear and despair. That’s why we have to be wise to his tricks and refuse to give in, continue to look to God for wisdom, and allow His love to cover our fears, infuse us with peace, and give us the hope that only He can.

God honors prayer. Pray for the families who now must cross oceans of grief. Pray for the safety of our public (and private) spaces. Pray for those who might become the next random victims. Pray for the minds and hearts of those who might become the next perpetrators. Pray for the chains of the enemy to be broken. And refuse to become a victim of fear.

John 14:27 (NIV)

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

mind over mind? and bringing God in

I've mentioned more than once here that the idea of the birthing process freaks my cookies. To slay this dragon, or at least build a bridge that goes around it, I've educated myself (and DH) with my doc's reminder that "information is power." I've gone through the childbirth preparedness class at our birthing center, read through more than one book that talks about the process, prayed many times, spent time thinking about the event and its inevitable outcome – the birth of my son, and started listening to the Hyp.no.birthing CDs.

I have now listened to four sessions. Every time, I fall asleep. Or at least I'm pretty sure that's what happens because I couldn't possibly tell you what I've learned other than how to breathe deeply. Last night I listened to a session called Deepening, which guides the listener into a deeper state of hypnosis. I suspect that, even if I do fall asleep, my mind really is getting the message because for whatever reason I returned to a state of consciousness a few minutes before the end of the session (rather than waking up to dead silence).

I can tell you that, as of right now, I do not feel dread at the thought of going to the birthing center (in fact, I'm looking forward to plugging in my iPod and dimming the lights in there!). DH is still pretty squeamish about being there, though – I'm hoping he listens to the birth partner CD so he can be more calm during the process.

Despite the "pain-free labor" the home study professes, this is not my expectation. I'd say I am resisting the urge to build any expectations since I know that anything can happen. I am, however, starting to visualize how I would like the process to go. Why do this? Because the mind is powerful, and the suggestion can influence the outcome. My coworker, who also used the program, did this and many aspects of her process carried out exactly the way she had envisioned it.

At the same time, I have begun focusing more on bringing God into the experience and making Him the focus of my desire. Last weekend in yoga class, as the instructor cooed gentle words of new age "wisdom," the thought popped into my head of really making God part of the process instead of an afterthought. I am praying more in that direction, asking God to cover me with His Spirit and permeate the room we'll be in.

Hyp.nobir.thing and visualization are powerful tools, but they are just tools. God is no tool.

The Great Physician

I truly believe that God has healed me. There, I said it. Committed it to the blogosphere. Why? Because, I have asked for it. I have been led to parts of the Bible that talk about how critical a role faith plays in how God interacts with us.

This one really hit hard one night:

James 1:5-7, NIV
5 If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. 6 But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. 7 That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. (emphasis mine)

I have been looking at how people have experienced healing throughout the Bible. Whether it was fertility, or sickness, or blindness or anything else, there is a consistency: faith and interaction. People acted out of faith; prayed in faith; believed wholeheartedly. I don't see anyone who said something like "Well, I've prayed about it but who knows what will happen from here." I'm not saying that never ran through someone's head. Who am I to project?

As for interaction, it always involved more than one person - whether that was a husband, a wife, a priest, a friend, a whole community, or Jesus himself - people prayed for each other for healing.

Now, I'm going to admit that I can't help the thoughts that come to my head that usually start with "what if." However, I am recognizing them as doubt and focusing on God instead.

As if to prove His point, today the message in my mailbox underscored my belief. I subscribe to a daily devotional from Rebecca Barlow Jordan. Here's today's entry:

Day 166

THE GREAT PHYSICIAN

"I am the Lord,
who heals you."
Exodus 15:26

From the Father's Heart
My child, rest in Me. I have given you a prescription for healthy living. When you allow your body to stress out and destructive emotions to run rampant, My healing cannot come. I am not only the mender of broken bones and dreams, but I am the restorer of broken hearts and lives. I am the great physician, and I care for all My patients with tenderness and love.

A Grateful Response
Lord, I bring the pains of a wounded heart and the aches of a broken body to You. I feel Your personal presence surrounding me with quiet assurance. Your touch releases my pent-up emotions, and healing flows through me like a fountain. Lord, You are my great physician.

Simple Truth
God's home is where we can hang our hurts.

A Prayer of Worship

You are God Who Sees Me
You walk before me
You are forever – in the past and the future
You redeem me
You sanctify me
You rescue me
You wrap your arms around me and call me Beloved
You protect me and save me
You don't let any tear go to waste
You use my pain ultimately for Your glory
You smooth my heart with your loving hands
You envelop me in Your love
You are the great I Am
You see me and know me
You are omniscient and omnipresent
You drive out my fears with Your perfect love
You give me Your spirit of peace
You give me rest
You give me a path to follow, hope, and a future
You are mine and I am yours
You love me.

the most wonderful poem: Yahweh

I won't predicate this with my opinion, or how deeply it's sunk into my bones over the years, or how - especially during this time of grief, pain, and confusion - it is more helpful than ever. I will only say that I don't remember the author's name, but she resides in Colorado and shared this with a group of women at a retreat a few years ago.

Yahweh

there is the voice you’ve always dreamed about,

deep, relentless, the sound of many waters

covering you, riding the waves of your darkness;

you crave he who will not drown in your hunger.

I am the one you cannot weary,

unyielding, unrepentant,

I will catch hold, cupping your heart

with healing hands, brushing your hair

under the shadow of my wings.

you push against desire, the longing to see my face,

to know the secret name I gave you

before the stars sang.     You hope your fear will hide you

underneath thick, armor-warm skin,

cradling yourself in its dark shell.

                  this is of little consequence.

before the day was, I had already found you,

stirred your void with my breath.

the terrain of your heart is etched on my hands,

your nightmares will not lose me.

tumble yourself back into the sky

and marry me once more.