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visualizations and staying positive. (71)

Last night, when I was nearly doubled over in pain and fighting back tears, my resolve was admittedly a little shaken as I considered the calendar. “Ten weeks to  go,” I thought. “How on earth am I going to do this for ten more weeks?” We were downtown as a family–J, H, my mom, myself and the Button, enjoying the perfect summer weather and our local street performer series, when it really kicked in. I asked J if we could go upstairs to his office for a few minutes, and our evening ended too soon as I quickly realized things were not going to improve enough for me to make the trek back to the car.

I am not good at being down for the count.

I guess I don’t know who is, really, but I know for certain that I’m not programmed to sit things out or take a break very well. It seems this pregnancy may dictate otherwise. I’m not ready to put the next 2.5 months in a box and say that this is the trajectory of the next ten (or so) weeks. I just can’t do it. Not for my mental and emotional state, not for the fact that it’s my favorite time of year and there’s so much I want to do, not for the list of things I’m still planning to accomplish before we meet this sweet baby who is growing stronger every day. And so, I’m deferring to some of the most valuable things I’ve learned as a doula–and also to the coping skills I gained in classes as we prepped for Henry’s arrival two-ish years ago. The same tools that got me through H’s delivery unmedicated are going to have come out of the reserves now. I’m gathering my arsenal.

The thing is, I love pregnancy. I love so many things about it–not the least of which is the fact that I believe it’s a sheer miracle…the way my body can be the vessel with which God chooses to grow a human. I am in awe of all of it, and if you asked my husband, he’d tell you just how often I point out something small and somewhat benign about this baby-growing phase and say, “Isn’t that amazing!?…Isn’t that awesome?!” I probably could solicit an eye roll here or there with all of my expectant interjections, but the fact of the matter is, I’m just so happy to be celebrating a baby on the way! This is why the crazy pain I’ve had these past few nights is so challenging to me. I feel like I have to have my A-game on to battle this…to not get defeated…to stay positive and encouraged and uplifted in this stretching season.

I ended up calling the dr today and they asked me to come in for an impromptu appointment. The suggestion is my gall bladder at this point, but we’ll know more in a few days after an ultrasound. Baby sounds AOK, and judging by the movement in my belly at all hours, is quite happily tucked away without knowledge of whatever is going on. If it is my gall bladder, we’re most likely just going to have to hang in there, so I’m focused on thinking the best and staying hopeful that my discomfort won’t linger long or be constant.

My labor with Henry taught me a lot about staying strong and believing in my own capacity to withstand the process of giving birth. Not only that, but it has been an invaluable reminder over and over again that God provides what we need in the moment we need it, and that He created our bodies to do amazing and unbelievably strong things. I won’t start doubting myself now. I can’t. I’m going into this next delivery with a purposeful resolve, and although I know we can’t control how birth goes altogether, I’m leaning heavily on the knowledge that my mindset, attitude, and faith will all come heavily into play in that room on that beautiful day. Even now, as I approach these more challenging moments with slight concern or reservation, I’m battling back with prayer and affirmations and relaxation techniques to pull through. This is absolutely not a sprint. It’s a marathon. I’d never want to run one without training first.

I share all of this for a few reasons, the first being that I want this little baby to someday know that it’s ok when things are hard. It’s ok to take a moment (or moments:) to cry and question and wonder about what’s next. But it’s also important to trust that God has us and sees us and can carry our yoke. The second reason I share this is because I think it’s important to strike a balance between being positive and being real–and I think there’s room for both. I feel positive about this pregnancy on a daily basis. I never wish I wasn’t pregnant instead. I just need to say that it’s hard sometimes. And the truth is, pregnancy is hard for everyone at some point in the process. You can be glowing and pulled together and breezy for 39.5 weeks, but there will still be some point in time when the process is hard. And well it should be. Growing an entire, perfectly formed little being from nothing is no job for the faint of heart. God uses us to do His will in bringing new life into the world, but He warns us that it will come with its own set of challenges and pain. I think it’s all part of the process of grace, really. Sharpening us to extend grace to ourselves, to our developing babies, to those closest to us and to the world around us, in a season when it would be easy to make room for a lot of excuses and negativity if we really wanted to. And of course, encouraging us to bend to our knees and ask our God for His grace in getting us through. He is the best birthing coach around, and He knows the drill. He created the process, for goodness sake. He can certainly fill in the gaps.

Someday soon this baby will be here, and so much of this journey will seem trivial and trite as it fades to the background. Until then, it is a molding and shaping and growing time of life for us as a family, and I’m so thankful for that! I’ll be here visualizing the best possible outcome and staying hopeful for the next ten (nine? 😉 weeks. And I’ll be praying a lot! Couldn’t do this otherwise.

keeping my chin up, and leaning on God.

mm

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unshakable economy. (75)

Earlier today…

Sitting downtown this afternoon for an impromptu hour of uninterrupted time to think and read. I always wonder how I’ll make room for the things that are most important, but then I prioritize them and suddenly God makes space. His economy is far greater than we can possibly understand!

I asked God last night for time and energy today to be up and showered–with some room for prayer and quiet time mixed in, before H woke up. Admittedly, when the house was dark and silent this morning, I had the hardest time not moving toward tasks instead of spending time doing what I’d asked to borrow time for! But God is faithful in the very small things, including the Holy Spirit’s gentle nudging when we need to stay on track. Imagine my delight when I had just enough time to get ready and spend time in the Word before I heard the munchkin stirring…I would have felt so defeated if I was mid-dishes or laundry when H woke up. Instead, I was refreshed and ready to greet him–such a better option!

Because time was on my side this morning, I was able to soak up this little gem from Jesus Calling as I started my day:

“Rest in Me, My child. Give your mind a break from planning and trying to anticipate what will happen. Pray continually, asking My Spirit to take charge of the details of this day. Remember that you are on a journey with Me. When you try to peer into the future and plan for every possibility, you ignore your constant Companion who sustains you moment by moment. As you gaze anxiously into the distance, you don’t even feel the strong grip of My hand holding yours. How foolish you are, My child!

Remembrance of me is a daily discipline. Never lose sight of My Presence with you. This will keep you resting in Me all day, every day.”

How true it is! And what a relevant reminder today as I continue to try to set my sights on God and what He has–to take moments to pause and rest, allowing Him to guide and channel my days for His glory…and to make room for all that He has to offer my life, my family’s lives, the places where He will use me to have an impact in the world.

Oh, thank you, Lord, for sharpening me in this expectant season! You are always waiting to surprise and delight! And thank you for the blessed friend and sweet offer for a few hours to myself today. You know everything I need and you make room for it in your abundant economy. Even now, as this baby jumps around in my belly (forgot to order decaf for the first time in months…oops!), I am experiencing your JOY more fully as I take the time to really seek it and live it out.

celebrating the abundance and recognizing what an incredible gift it is!

mm

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no need to hurry. (77)

If only I could make myself believe that some days.

But we’re always onto the next thing, aren’t we? The next project, the next purchase, the next to do on the list? I’m guilty of this daily, and it’s this pace I sometimes keep that challenges exactly all of the things I was talking about here yesterday. “Make it stop!!” I keep thinking. I just have to work on the right place to begin.

Because I think I’m often so focused on the “what’s next?” that I miss the here and now. And all I really have for sure this side of Heaven is precisely this–the here and now. I’m not saying there’s no need to prepare for the future. I’m not saying it at all. But what I am saying is that I can get so caught up in what if’s and plans and possibilities and worries and commitments and self-imposed obligations that I miss the boat. Oh, you can bet I do!

I am only as focused as the very next thing sometimes, and I’m growing more programmed all the time to default to this. With everything at the touch of a button and the world at my fingertips through a tiny little box we foolishly just call a phone…

But it’s not just that. It’s emails and Facebook and twitter and ads. Sales! And For a Limited Time Onlys! And reminders flying left and right. When my two year old hears a real phone ringing in a restaurant and asks, “What’s that sound, Mommy?” I can’t help but think maybe we’re getting this all wrong sometimes. There was value in the phone that stayed on the wall and only got answered when we were home. There was value in the (maybe) weekly trip to the store for what the household needed–no more, no less. Nothing was really instant or immediate, and everyone survived. The clutter was a bit less like constant static.

And I know that I’m feeling this sense of encroachment on my mental, physical, emotional, spiritual space because I’ve allowed it all in. What’s more, it has begun to feel normal. If we can’t get it, know it, find out about it, or share it in sixty seconds or less these days, the medium feels slow. What. Has. Happened?

So I’m saying I’m making an effort to, slowly but surely, reduce this reality in my life. I so desperately want there to be more room in my days for quiet. For thinking. For deep relationship and genuine interaction, face to face. I have these things, yes–and I’m blessed by them. But I need more of them and less of the rushing, hurrying, scurrying, clamoring, striving, racing, crazy that life is becoming. I don’t want my children to know this pace of life as the norm. I truly don’t.

We’ve already turned off our T.V. A long time ago, really. It was a good step, and I don’t miss it at all. Just another portal into a world that eats up the world I’m trying to create here in this little blue house, and we don’t need it. So what’s next? Maybe more limited phone (browsing) time for yours truly, or a step away from FB again (forever, someday?), or a commitment to an entire hour of quiet somehow, daily?

Something. Because it’s all happening, and it’s true that a big part of me hates it. What’s more, I love and value so many of the things that busyness has replaced (writing letters, spending a whole day in the kitchen, drafting poetry, learning a new skill, swinging on a porch, really pressing in and not just praying, but truly listening for God–then giving Him room and time to speak). The only thing I really need to hurry about is the pace at which I pursue slowing down. I’m feeling really convicted and convinced of that.

As it turns out, this season of pregnancy is becoming more and more about self-reflection and introspection as I prepare my heart for what’s next. It seems I remember my last pregnancy doing something similar. It really is a beautiful phase of life for so many reasons. Eleven weeks (or so) left to savor and glean.

here. goes.

mm

photo credit to Ann Voskamp. love her.

image credit to Ann Voskamp. love her.

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in the quiet place. (78)

Besides the train horns blowing every once and a while a few miles away, it is unbelievably quiet here. The dog sighs occasionally, and I’m actually aware of it–only the sounds of the house and the click of my keyboard fill up the remaining, hanging space. I have grown to love the busyness and animation of our noisy, toddler-driven house in the day today, but at the end of this week, the quiet is most welcome. It is exactly everything I haven’t taken pause to notice I needed.

I’m afraid I’m not making or finding enough time to get quiet and recharge. Left unrealized, this seems like dangerous territory–somewhat like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. I know this because I’ve felt it rising. It’s been creeping up slowly, and I hear it in my responses to H, in my ramblings of the days’ happenings to Jason, and wildly in my head amidst all of the things I think and do not say. It’s fortunate that my mouth has remained shut in some situations, and sheerly disappointing that I’ve not opened up and just been plainly honest in others. I am battling a war between my people-pleasing, peace-keeping, fearful side and the advocating, protecting, Truth-driven part of me that’s itching terribly to surface. And somewhere, there’s a balance.

I sat in the living room across from a friend today who has an incredible ability to help me see myself for who I am. She is an amazing listener, a beautiful encourager, and a powerfully honest person whose God-fearing, spirit-filled life leads me to a place of healthy vulnerability and honesty every time we meet. There is no pretending here, on any level. And the longer we sit face to face as life permits us, the more we find we share in common–our pasts, although not the same, are crazily woven together in a way I believe God uses to shed light and Truth and freedom. I find myself in tears every time we talk, and she celebrates them. We both do. And I’m always left feeling lighter and thinking in a way that’s more true to who God is calling me to be. I pray that my friendship to her is as refreshing in return as hers is to me. I’m so grateful.

And I share this because our dialogue today has me thinking at full speed and desiring more quiet and space to think even further, to pray, to get really, really honest, and to push through the muck to whatever God has for me–for our family, in this chapter. It’s possible that I just coast through a lot of days and manage to balance what’s right in front of me, without really realizing what’s to the side, what’s behind, what’s above. I know that God wants to give me direction–that He craves my attention the same way I crave His. I’m just not sure I give Him anywhere enough time to do what He wants to with my heart. I think I’ve done so in seasons, but not well as of late. And I don’t want to just barrel through the next several months to a place of new vulnerability and adjustment and change without resetting my sights on what God is saying, doing, ordering in my life.

So. There’s probably a lot of work to be done. Right here. Where I am. And I need to be honest with myself, and particularly honest with others, and I know sometimes that honesty is going to be hard. But my heart is to serve my family as a wife and mom to my best and fullest capacity, and when my tank is empty, I’m not so great at this at all. All of the little (and big) things that drain said tank, drop by drop, can sit buried and linger. Or they can surface and be real and be dealt with to clear some room, reset my system. In this space and time as I parent a toddler, grow a soon-to-be newborn, love my husband, care for our home, and attempt to maintain, grow, and nurture relationships all around me, I’m going to have to be honest. First with myself, and then with those closest to me. And I need to stop making so much time for apologies and guilt and second guesses where they are undue, instead utilizing that energy to clear a path for health and wholeness and joy inside this little heart of mine.

i pray that God would begin the work and show me where i need to go. opening up my hands again and pursuing Truth as i dance the dance.

mm

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2,046 words. (82)

mom munchkin babyI am in love. With my babies. With this season. With the beach. With all of God’s perfect creation swirling around me so tangibly. It doesn’t really matter how hard it can feel sometimes. This motherhood thing? It is 100% holy and pure and good.

sunset belly silhouette

amazed.

mm