Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Time for a Caption Contest!

UPDATE: Contest closed, there will be a poll to follow, don't forget to vote! 

So many things I could say....


Here's the deal: If I have at least 10 caption entries (from 10 different people) by 11:00 pm on Friday (approximately 48 hours from now), I will then post a poll with the entries and allow voting. The caption with the most votes will receive a prize... Fitting with the picture theme, I'll be giving away a heated ice scraper to the winner. :)
Happy Captioning!!
(Though I'm sure it won't be an issue, any caption that may be considered as disrespectful will be promptly removed)

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

"I am the Lord's servant..."

I was flipping through my women’s devotional calendar today, reading the devotionals for the days I wasn’t at work, and the verse for Christmas caught my attention. “Mary responded, ‘I am the Lord’s servant, and I am willing to accept whatever he wants. May everything you have said come true.’” Luke 1:38.

“I am the Lord’s servant, and I am willing to accept whatever he wants.” Mary’s statement seems so simple. Have you ever thought about what Mary stood to lose? She’d been told she’d give birth to the Son of God. I’m sure she had to have wondered how Joseph would respond to that. If he hadn’t trusted God or the angel hadn’t reassured him, he very likely would have left Mary to be a single mom. I’m sure being a single mom in that place and time would not have been a very comfortable life... especially for a woman who claimed that the seemingly absent father was God Himself. She risked her comfort, her relationship, her reputation- her future. She was willing to give it all up because God had a plan for her and she trusted Him.

“Lord, I am your servant, and I am willing to accept whatever You want” can be a very scary thing to pray. We never know what He may want because we can’t see the full picture. We can’t know what is coming next and what He may want to use to help prepare us. Sometimes it’s not so hard, but sometimes, it can be devastatingly painful. To pray, “I am willing to accept whatever You want,” we have to be prepared for whatever that may be, though sometimes, I think there is little we can do to truly be “prepared.”

I’d prayed a similar prayer many times before Carys. I knew it might be painful, but I also knew that God loves me, so He would have my best interest in mind. I don’t regret it. As painful as this past year has been, it’s also been beautiful. December 15th marked 1 year from her initial diagnosis, and the 21st was the day her diagnosis was confirmed. Aaron and I have reflected on the past year often over this holiday season. Last Christmas was so difficult. I’d even jokingly asked my friend Leslie if it was possible to pickle your face from crying so much. This Christmas, it all still hurts, but we’re okay. On the way home from work last week, I caught myself in tears and smiling at the same time, thinking of everything that’s happened. The thought crossed my mind that if anyone saw me, they’d think I must be nuts… and that made me laugh… and cry. It was an odd moment, but so characteristic of the way this year has gone. Bittersweet. Maranomi.

I wouldn’t change it. God knows what He’s doing, and He loves me. He’s proven that to me time and time again. If this is where He wants me, there is a purpose in it, and I choose to accept that. Some day, every heartache will fade away. Pain won’t last forever. The bitter will leave and the sweet will remain. I’m so thankful for that promise!

Heavenly Father, I am your servant, and I am willing to accept whatever You want.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Solomon Was A Rainbow Baby

     Many times, it seems like we skip over the genealogy of Christ as we read the Christmas story in Matthew, but as with all scripture, it’s included for a purpose. As I was reading back through the lineage of Christ recently, a few connections stood out to me a bit more than they once did.
     One name in particular that has always caught my attention is Rahab, or “the prostitute Rahab,” as she was commonly known. Rahab was known by her risqué profession. She was known for her behavior. That is, before she made a life-altering choice. She decided to follow the one and only living God. That choice superseded all previous choices. Her life was no longer the same, and she was able to pass down a legacy of redemption. Can you imagine the story she may have told her children and grand children? “…and then I learned that God loved ME… in spite of all I’d done!”
     Speaking of Rahab’s children and grandchildren, She had a son named Boaz. Boaz grew to be a godly man and was the kinsman-redeemer for Ruth when her husband (his relative) died without giving her children. Boaz did what was right and took responsibility for Ruth, giving her hope for a future; because God had a plan. (I’d written a while back about Ruth and her mother-in-law Naomi in “The New Normal.”) God used Rahab’s dedication and redemption to provide hope for Ruth, who was also dedicated to doing what was right for not only her, but for her mother-in-law.
     Ruth and Boaz then had a son named Obed, who grew to father Jesse. Jesse became the father of King David. Keep in mind the legacy that was being passed along! Each ancestor had such raw, human moments. Mistakes were made, and life was painful at times. There were losses and tears. King David was known as a man after God’s own heart, but even David made sinful, selfish mistakes with painful consequences.
     After David’s affair with Bathsheba and after David had Bathsheba’s husband Uriah murdered, the child that resulted from David’s moment of selfish pleasure became very ill and died, despite David’s pleading. David repented. Solomon was then born to David and his then wife, Bathsheba. Solomon was what is known in the “baby loss world” as a rainbow baby- the baby after the loss of a child, (a storm). From Solomon, the lineage continues, story after story. These are only a few of the ancestors of Jesus’ earthly family. Each generation had storms, but God had a plan. God knew at the time of Rahab what was going to happen in the life of Joseph, years and years down the line. God knew that generations later, He would be sending another child into the world who was going to save the world by reconciling mankind with the Father through the cross. He knew that He would be sending His own son to bridge the gap that was created during the fall in the garden of Eden. God knew. God has a majestic way of working through our painful storms and selfish mistakes to make beautiful things happen. Looking at the genealogy of the Christmas story, we once again have proof that there is a promise of life and hope after the rain.



2 Samuel 12:15-23
(NIV)
 15 After Nathan had gone home, the LORD struck the child that Uriah’s wife had borne to David, and he became ill. 16 David pleaded with God for the child. He fasted and spent the nights lying in sackcloth[b] on the ground. 17 The elders of his household stood beside him to get him up from the ground, but he refused, and he would not eat any food with them.
 18 On the seventh day the child died. David’s attendants were afraid to tell him that the child was dead, for they thought, “While the child was still living, he wouldn’t listen to us when we spoke to him. How can we now tell him the child is dead? He may do something desperate.”
 19 David noticed that his attendants were whispering among themselves, and he realized the child was dead. “Is the child dead?” he asked.
   “Yes,” they replied, “he is dead.”
 20 Then David got up from the ground. After he had washed, put on lotions and changed his clothes, he went into the house of the LORD and worshiped. Then he went to his own house, and at his request they served him food, and he ate.
 21 His attendants asked him, “Why are you acting this way? While the child was alive, you fasted and wept, but now that the child is dead, you get up and eat!”
 22 He answered, “While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept. I thought, ‘Who knows? The LORD may be gracious to me and let the child live.’ 23 But now that he is dead, why should I go on fasting? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him, but he will not return to me.”

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Joy's the Word

Last December, I first heard of www.myoneword.com. The premise of the website is to choose a one-word theme for the year instead of setting the typical New Year’s resolutions. I loved the idea of choosing one word and really dwelling on it to allow God to reveal some truth through it. 
Because of my circumstances, I chose the word JOY. It may seem strange that in the circumstances as they were I chose joy, but I had a very intentional purpose in it. From the time of Carys’ fatal diagnosis in December, I knew the remainder of the pregnancy and the time that followed would be bittersweet. I knew I was going to have one healthy baby and one baby that wouldn’t be able to survive after birth. I also knew I was going to have to find a way to discover joy in the midst of sorrow, and I trusted that God would provide that joy.
In Psalm 30:11 (NIV), King David wrote,  “11 You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy…” I’ve learned first-hand that God can do that. He can take our brokenness and turn it into something beautiful. Our suffering can be the source of great joy.
This year has certainly been one of heartache and suffering for my family and me. I’ve never been more broken, beaten down, or utterly weary. At the same time, I’ve never experienced the degree of peace that I have during what would seem to be the worst of moments. However, I can’t truly say this year has been horrible because we’ve had some very amazing things happen along with the painful things. Bittersweet is a word I’ve often used, but it’s also been a year of extremes. The “bad” things have been unbelievably horrid…. But the good? Wow. We have the joy of watching all of Paxton’s firsts while we experience the sorrow of missing Carys. We’ve learned so much about God’s love and the peace of Heaven. We learned more about what is important and what is insignificant. We chose to trust rather than become bitter, and we’ve grown in the joy of a total trust in the Heavenly Father. We’ve worn the sackcloth, but we’ve also been clothed in joy. We’ve also learned that without the sackcloth, we wouldn’t have the ability to experience joy to the same magnificent degree. Circumstances don’t determine our joy; choosing to trust the loving Creator with our circumstances, however, does. 

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

i am thankful

    I am thankful. As I started to write this entry, I struggled with what to list first...we have so many blessings. So, in no specific order…
    I'm thankful for wonderful parents who taught me what it means to be Christ like and love, and who provided a stable home throughout my  childhood. I’m thankful for a brother and sister who are supportive, loving, and witty. I’m thankful for a sister-in-law who was my friend first, and whom I am proud to call family. I’m thankful for the loving grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins who have passed along or shared a heritage. Though our family has its quirks like all others, for the most part, we’re close.
    I am thankful. I’m thankful for the relationships that didn’t pan out but led me to the one that did. I’m thankful for the wonderful, godly man who is my husband. I’m thankful that I was able to marry my best friend. I’m thankful for his family. I’m thankful to be one of those rare wives who have no complaints about her in-laws because they are truly wonderful. I’m thankful for my niece and nephews, even the two who are family by choice (and their parents, who have been such a support for us). I’m thankful for true friends who know what a godly, loving friendship is really about and who have been there for us through the most difficult time of our lives.
     I am thankful. I’m thankful for a loving church family that has offered countless prayers on our behalf. I’m thankful for employment and having our needs met. I’m thankful for vehicles that are reliable and a home that I love.
     I am thankful. I’m thankful for my babies. I’m thankful for Paxton’s joyful laughter, inquisitive expressions, and for the opportunity to watch him grow and learn. I’m thankful to have a front row seat to his relationship with his daddy, knowing this is where his understanding of the Heavenly Father begins. I’m thankful for my sweet baby girl and for the hours we had with her after she was born. I’m thankful for a caring doctor and his staff. I’m thankful for the beautiful friendships I’ve made through the painful world of pregnancy and infant loss. I’m thankful for rainy days and the beauty of nature.
     I am thankful. I’m thankful that this entry only touches the tip of the iceberg of my blessings. I’m thankful for the people who have been a part of my life, and for the opportunities I’ve been allowed. Above all, I’m thankful for a loving, selfless God, and I’m thankful that Heaven is real. I'm thankful that one day (if we live life in a way pleasing to God), we will be in the very presence of God Himself, in a place where there will be no more tears, no more suffering, no more death.... no more tissues and snotty noses from crying.... only peace and love. I am thankful for the promise!

Revelation 21:4

New International Version (NIV)
4 ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”


Saturday, November 12, 2011

Pilgrim Overboard

With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I wanted to take a moment to share some history I have recently learned. We know the general story of how the Pilgrims came to the Americas in search of religious freedom and landed at Plymouth. We’ve heard of the hardships they faced once they arrived, and how about half of the group didn’t survive the first winter because they weren’t able to finish building their homes or find enough food before the weather grew too cold and the snow came. I would like to share with you the story of one of those Pilgrims.

John Howland was about 27 or 28 years old in 1620 when he boarded the Mayflower to come to the Americas as a servant of John Carver. On the voyage across the Atlantic, there was a storm and John was swept overboard. He was able to grab a rope and hold on until he was rescued.

Pilgrim Overboard – by Mike Haywood

When I learned of John Howland’s story, I thought of his storms (both literal and figurative). He left the home he’d always known to voyage to an unfamiliar world, and as we know, the unknown can be exciting but also very scary. On the way, he was swept overboard and nearly lost his life. He was rescued and made it to his destination, only to endure such a brutal winter that half of his group didn’t survive. I’d imagine it was hard to not wonder if things were ever going to start improving.

I’d imagine that first spring was a welcomed sight, even if the hardships didn’t end there. Sources say that John Carver died that spring, and his wife died not long after. John Howland then married Elizabeth Tilly, a servant from the Carvers’ household who was about 15 or 16 years old and had lost her parents and an aunt and uncle during the harsh winter.

John and Elizabeth experienced their share of loss and uncertainties. I’m sure there were days that they felt overwhelmed, discouraged, and exhausted, but they kept moving forward. I know God had a plan.

John and Elizabeth had 10 children and 88 grandchildren. As I was looking for more information about John Howland, I learned from his monument on Burial Hill that he was known as a "godly man and an ardent professor in the ways of Christ" when he died in his 80’s. Talk about a legacy.

John faced many storms in his life. But I am reminded… God knew what would happen next, because God has a plan.

 

Jeremiah 29:11-13

New International Version (NIV)
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. 12 Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.

It seems, even from that one line etched in his memorial stone, that John was able to learn from the storms and rely more heavily on his relationship with Christ. I think about what may have happened if he hadn’t been rescued when he was swept overboard, and now is when it seems appropriate to note a few of John Howland’s descendants.

According to www.pilgrimjohnhowlandsociety.org (which is a good place to learn more about John Howland), “It is reported that currently there are over 10 million living descendants of the 52 Mayflower Pilgrims who had children.”

The site goes on to list the following as a few of John Howland's descendants you may recognize:

Maude Adams (stage actress)
Humphrey Bogart (film actor)
Phillips Brooks (wrote "O Little Town of Bethlehem")
George Herbert Walker Bush (41th U.S. President)
Barbara Bush (U.S. First Lady)
George W. Bush (43nd U.S. President)
John Ellis "Jeb" Bush (Florida Governor)
Nathaniel Gorham (Continental Congress President)
Esther Allen Howland (produced the first American Valentines)
Henry Cabot Lodge, Jr. (U.S. Senator)
Franklin Delano Roosevelt (32nd U.S. President)
Lillian Russell (stage & film actress)
Joseph Smith (founder, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints)”


As a final thought, I’d like to note that John Howland was my 13th great grandfather. I learned about his story from my mother, who made the discovery in her years of genealogy research. It’s a good reminder that regardless of what storms we’re facing, there is life after the rain.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Acknowledging Loss

     This past week, it seems there was an emphasis on the criticism grieving parents may receive when discussing the loss of their children. I’ve been thinking very much about what is behind that criticism. Pregnancy and infant loss is a topic that strikes a nerve with many people for various reasons. As a result, anger is often felt, and harsh or hurtful things are said.
     Without going into great detail, a friend and fellow baby loss mom was bombarded by a couple of different people who criticized her for finding ways to talk about and memorialize her son. She was told that her posts about him made them angry.
     As a therapist, I am frequently discussing anger/emotional management. What it seems to boil down to is simply becoming aware of the emotions you experience (remembering that anger is like a category heading – there are always other emotions under it, such as feeling insulted, hurt, afraid, frustrated, disappointed, embarrassed, etc.) and learning how to respond to the emotion rather than allowing the emotion to control how you respond to the situation. If unchecked, we have the capacity to make some pretty destructive mistakes when we use anger as an excuse to respond how we “feel” like responding.
     The truth of the matter is simple. We all have a right to experience whatever emotions we experience. We do not have the right to use that experience as an excuse to take it out on someone else in a way that violates their rights.
     With that in mind, I think that the criticism comes from fear, lack of understanding, and unresolved grief. I say fear because many people respond to discussion about pregnancy and infant loss by downplaying it or acting like it’s not as important as the death of an adult. It’s a scary thought.
     Whether you’ve experienced a loss of your own or not, you may agree that losing a child is not the normal process of things. Babies aren’t supposed to die before their parents. It doesn’t seem natural. New babies are supposed to be joyful, exciting experiences. To speak of a baby’s death is “depressing,” and we’re often afraid to allow ourselves to feel sad. We treat painful emotions as if they are wrong to feel. That’s not fair. When we attempt to stifle our painful emotions rather than experience and work through them, we create problematic symptoms, such as depression and anxiety. We also become more prone to feeling angry when someone brings up a topic that threatens to expose those stifled emotions… because we fear opening that floodgate.
     I think a lack of understanding is another common factor in the criticism. If a person has no concept of the pain involved in pregnancy and infant loss, it’s obviously not going to be easy for them to be compassionate.
     The third common factor I mentioned is unresolved grief. Because of the tendency for society to be critical of parents who openly grief their pregnancy and infant losses (by saying such things as, “well the sooner you forget about it, the better off you’ll be” or “you can always just have another baby,” etc.), many parents are not allowed the opportunity to really work through their grief and find healing… which goes back to the stifled emotions and related problems.
     Grieving is a part of loss. The loss of a baby, whether during or after pregnancy, is no exception. I believe that any time someone has a strong emotional response to a situation, there is a strong personal belief or interpretation attached to it. When my friend shared with me the hurtful correspondence she received, I found myself wondering about motivation. One later said she felt guilty for being able to bring her own baby home without complications. The other (to my knowledge) never did own up to her own emotions. Maybe she was expecting a baby or hoped to be expecting a baby and the thought of infant mortality was scary. Maybe she’d had an abortion and to admit that the loss of the baby was a significant loss would mean that the loss of her baby was too. Maybe she’d had a natural loss and was stifling the painful emotions because she thought they were too difficult to process or those around her wouldn't approve…. Maybe...  I don’t know what her motivation was, but I know something struck a nerve. We don’t have strong reactions like that unless there is some significant meaning attached to the situation for us.
     When I think of how often pregnancy and infant loss isn’t recognized as a “real” loss, it hurts more than I can say. As I process my own grief, I need to know my daughter is acknowledged. She lived. When people say things like the death of someone older is worse because they lived longer is … well…. Ridiculously insulting. As a mother, I can say it’s never long enough. Even so, the seven hours and 13 minutes I was given with my Carys after her birth have forever changed my life. 
     I hope that some day society will more readily accept that pregnancy and infant loss is significant and freely acknowledge that parents have a right to grieve in their own way. It would be nice if we could all speak openly about how we feel, while being respectful. I'd probably be out of a job if that happened, but I'd gladly find a new career if that was the case. Meanwhile, though, I'll be looking for opportunities to defend our right to grieve.

To do your part, check out this link; it was passed along to me this week.