MollyMadonna.com

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trust. (38)

There are just some days when love and God’s very abundant presence in my life are so apparent, and today is one of them. I woke up this morning with a few things heavy on my heart, and as I got ready, I realized that they were owning every thought and creating undue stress in a day that was only just beginning. Maybe it sounds silly, but I’m “stressed” about stress these days. Not as in, “Oh, no! I’m completely stressed out at the idea of being stressed!” but more in a “there’s a growing, impressionable life inside of me and he or she doesn’t deserve this stress” kind of way. For the most part, I think this recognition has been healthy–and on a day like today, I was thankful for the very obvious belly/reminder in the mirror that I needed to reduce my stress level (and fast).

Late last summer, I posted a verse on the glass door of our bathroom cabinet as a daily reminder. It reads, “…The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of all the earth. He never grows weak or weary. No one can measure the depths of his understanding…Those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” (Isaiah 40.28, 31) This morning, when I realized that I was completely consumed with stressful thoughts, I looked over at the verse and read it to refresh my memory of the above truth. Then, I prayed that God would give me the ability to let the worry go and to fully trust in Him for resolution and guidance regarding the burden I was carrying. And I went about my day.

By 8:00am, I had already seen God show up in ways that were clearly an answer to my prayer. I felt joyful and not clouded, conversational and not withdrawn. I felt total peace when I sensed the need to handle a related situation in a certain way, and a weight was lifted with the opportunity to simply obey and listen, instead of doing what my human thought process would have otherwise encouraged me to do. I felt the sudden ability to trust God with the details again–a lesson that I continue to have to learn, over and over and over. And He continued to show up in so many ways.

By lunchtime, I was filled with energy and zeal for the day. I was blessed to have numerous positive interactions with others that were not only uplifting, but affirming in the way that God had heard (and was attending to) my early morning cry for help. Things felt intentional, purposeful and life-giving–the complete opposite of how I had been feeling hours before. And by tonight, I was so aware of God’s love for me, for us, for this baby that I could hardly stop smiling from ear to ear. There is joy in trusting the Lord!

There’s so much more to share about this day, but for now, I’m just resting in the fact that when we feel small, we are still serving a gigantic God who is attentive and doting and loving in ways that we might not even see. We are being heard and cared for in ways we can’t anticipate, and we have an obligation as Christ followers to trust and believe that God has a level of understanding that we will never be able to measure–not even close.

I am so blessed by the past 18 hours, and so relieved by the shift in my spirit that took place because God cares that much for me. Not only did he bless me by being so apparent, but he did so doubly, by using a number of the beautiful people in my life to do so. I am, once again, humbled and grateful and headed to bed tonight with a renewed sense of being able to run and not grow weary…to walk and not faint.

reliant,

mm

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it takes two. (40)

Towards the end of this week, Jason and I will celebrate our fourth anniversary. We met in the Summer of 2004, were engaged in December of 2006, and were married on March 24th, 2007. Our wedding day was celebratory and worshipful; we were two young hearts looking out on the world and believing that together–and with God, we could take it by storm. I still remember so many of the details of that day with incredible clarity. I knew that we were making the biggest commitment of our lives before God. But what I could not have imagined is how much God would use us to grow and shape each other, or how much we would have molded together, despite drastic peaks and valleys, over four years’ time.

As newlyweds, we ventured across the globe to fulfill a shared passion in Africa through ministry. Those days are still quite tangible to me, too. We knew so little yet about who we were as husband and wife, and I don’t think that we could see so clearly then how deeply united we were becoming in our experience. Living in a small room together, with all that we needed in a 12×12 space, we learned about coping with hardships, facing one another in every circumstance and finding joy together in the little things. We climbed mountains, both literal and figurative; we built relationships cross-culturally and fell in love with a whole different part of God’s creation, and we pursued adventure with abandon, as unabashedly as we could manage in our own naivety. I am still discovering, nearly three years later, so many of the ways that God strengthened, supported and protected us in that chapter.

And since, we have established home–not only with each other, but in a space that we have grown to love and call our own. We have come through eleven physical seasons under the same roof, and through each one we have learned more about being home owners, caretakers, gardeners, pet owners, cooks, hosts and neighbors. More than that though, we have defined a great deal of what we desire for the place where we welcome others and where we return to at the end of the day. There is rarely an occasion anymore when I don’t delight in cultivating and shaping this address and all that exists behind its doors. And as we both contribute to temperature of this place, we learn more and more what is important and what we can let go; we see the flaws in the old foundation and we recognize our own.

In what now feels like a very short matter of time, we will add to our number and bring home the newest representation of who we are as one. In its simplest form, our child is and will physically be the blending of two people who, apart, would not be anywhere near the same as who we are together. At its most complex, our little one will lean on every word and exchange and interaction we share; he or she will become more and more like us over time–whether good or bad, by the example that we set forth and the love we express for each other. We will recognize ourselves again in the reflection of a tiny face and mind and body–one that God is entrusting to us for such a time as this.

For the past four years (and even before then), it has taken trials and celebrations, successes and failures, disappointments and surprises to bring us to where we are. But without being “in the fire” so-to-speak, with each other, there’s no way we’d be as ready to step into the next four years, to become parents, or to continue to learn how to love well. Marriage, for us, has been raw and vulnerable and has stripped us each of our preconceptions and assumptions–both about ourselves and about the other person standing in front of us at the end of the day. We are still learning all of the time. And we still get it wrong here and there. But we hope to get it more and more “right” as we go. And we couldn’t make that happen if we weren’t two people making every effort to look out in the same direction.

It takes two saying “Yes!” to God in marriage, and two saying “Yes!” to parenthood, and two saying “Yes!” to every day–no matter what it brings, to get to four years and forty and then some…

one half of two,

mm

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awareness. (43)

Yesterday, I shared a bit about becoming a doula and the path that God has had me on as a result. I wanted to articulate that here, because it feeds so much into how we are now making choices as we prepare to birth, parent and raise our own child. Over the course of the past few years, I’ve learned a lot about childbirth–the preparation, the process, labor and delivery and postpartum care. I’ve read books and had conversations, Googled a bunch and taken classes, and seen birth firsthand in several scenarios–each of them different and each of them, beautiful. Since then, I’ve walked through all but the last six weeks of pregnancy, and have gotten my own crash course in becoming a mom, just as every other mom has done before me.

Naturally, the minute I thought I was pregnant, my awareness of everything changed. I considered each meal and activity and emotion with great intention…How will this affect the baby as it grows? Is this OK for the baby? What does the baby feel right now? With the same intentionality, I read more, asked more, learned more and processed more about birth than I ever have before.

There are so many things to consider when you’re expecting, and as soon as your belly become apparent, it’s a rare occasion that anyone in your daily life–whether you’ve known them for years or never seen them before, will leave you without having imparted some type of wisdom or commentary. Some of this can be very helpful; the encouragement, excitement and thoughtful tips can really enhance one’s pregnancy throughout. On the flip side, I’ve discovered that pregnancy not only calls for a great deal of learning and self-education, but it also begs for a gigantic filter.

If I took in every last comment and bit of harrowing “wisdom” that has come my way in the past 8 months, I would likely be hiding somewhere in a hole, potentially rocking myself back and forth out of fear and willing this baby never to come out. People say the strangest things. And based on their personal experiences or the experiences of those around them, they share their most horrific story, make their most shocking observation or insist on their innate abilities to predict everything about the very small, developing human being that’s tucked inside of you.

For an expectant, possibly hormonal and certainly introspective mother, this can either be great inspiration to seek out all of the information that best pertains to her personality, belief system, and way of thinking, or it can be a deathly blow to the eventual success and uniqueness of her own labor and delivery experience. I have become passionate about this fact, and about our ability to support and secure the best possible outcome for a new mom, her partner and their new baby. Along this journey, I have worked harder and harder to block out every stereotype, cliché and negative anecdote about birth and the birth process. Why? Because I believe that birth, like breathing or blinking, is something that our bodies are inherently created to do. [Insert gasp if desired]. And when we entertain fear, anticipate pain, build up negative expectation or speak hardship over ourselves and the events in our life, we do nothing to improve the possibility of things turning out a different way.

I know at this point in this post, it is probably easy for many reading it to think, “Just wait. You haven’t done this before, and you’ll see. It’s a whole different ball game when you’re actually in labor.” And I’m not going to begrudge anyone that opinion at all. You’re absolutely right. I’ve never done this before. Which is exactly why I am eager to prepare myself as best as I possibly can, and to approach this upcoming event with all of the elements in place that I believe will help me to have an amazing, peaceful birth as we welcome our first baby into the world.

This is probably a good stopping point for today, but I’m excited to share more about why I feel this way in my next entry. I’m glad to be able to dialogue here because I want to remember this process well. I also hope that in some way, it will empower someone else as they prepare to become a mom, or as they support someone in their life who is becoming a mom for the first time.

Thanks for sticking with me, and for hearing my heart.

increasingly excited and aware,

mm

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birthed. (44)

When Jason and I were living in Africa, God birthed a passion in me that has grown ever since. And “birthed” is a good word for it, because the burden that God was cultivating in my heart was consistently for pregnant women, new moms and their beautiful little babies. As we traveled in Africa and ministered to different people, I realized how drawn I’d become to the idea of empowering women through education and support as they experienced pregnancy, birth and motherhood. I had no idea what this would mean for me at the time, but I knew I wanted to be able to minister to women in a more supportive role someday. I also knew that I felt the need to be more educated–qualified, even, in order to provide the level of care and support that would meet such a pertinent need in impoverished, under-resourced and/or isolated communities.

Soon, I started praying about what this kind of ministry needed to look like. I put words to my developing passion to try to define it better for myself–words like educate, support, encourage, nurture, compassion. I thought about what tools I’d want to equip women with as expectant and new mothers, and landed on topics including nutrition, hygiene, post-partum care and self-worth. And then, as silly as it may seem, I started Googling combinations of these scattered pieces to determine how on earth I was going to merge my passions together.

I discovered the term “doula” for the first time when we lived in Johannesburg. To begin with, I had no idea what the word was–and I certainly didn’t know how to pronounce it. Somehow, with every search, “doula” kept coming up; I quickly learned that by definition, the word “doula” comes from the ancient Greek meaning “a woman who serves.” Today, it is used to refer to a trained and experienced professional who provides continuous physical, emotional and spiritual support to a mother before, during and just after birth. A doula is also someone who may provide emotional and practical postpartum support after baby is born.

The more I read and learned about the role of a doula, the more alive I felt about the idea of becoming one. I shared the possibility with friends over dinner one night, and the very next day, they contacted me and offered to bless me with the books and tools I’d need to get my certification rolling. This was a huge affirmation and confirmation to me that I was on the right track–the books I needed were all American titles that would be quite costly to purchase and ship overseas on our tight missionary budget. I was completely humbled by the offer, but agreed to move forward. I still remember the day that they handed me the first box of titles, all new and ready for me to devour over the weeks and months to come.

When we returned from Africa, I was able to take advantage of the jumpstart I’d gotten during our time there. I read more, had more conversations and eventually, enrolled in the necessary courses to begin the doula certification process. This past spring and summer, I had the privilege of assisting and observing three births for certification, and then found out that we would be expecting a bundle of our very own.

Everything on this journey has fallen into place in such unique timing–and I can’t ignore the ways that God has woven this path together for me. As a doula, I have learned so much from a scientific and/or fact-based perspective, but more than that, I have continued to grow in my fascination and appreciation for the incredible way that our bodies have been created to grow precious, tiny, perfect human beings. Life is not only a miracle, but an opportunity to appreciate our Creator and the precise nature of Creation in its every detail. It is thrilling to become so taken with the most natural process we could ever experience, and it is humbling to be a part of such a monumental event in the lives of others.

I can only begin to imagine how incredible it will be to participate in the miracle ourselves in such a short time. I am in awe of God’s timing, of the journey I’ve been on, and of the ways that I pray I will be used to help usher life into this world in the days ahead.

grateful to be called as hands and feet, and eager to grow as a woman who serves,

mm

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new every morning. (45)

I opened up my computer tonight without any idea in mind for a blog post. Across the room, Jason has been playing Sesame Street videos out of the blue to perk me up, and I’ve been singing along with some of my favorite old muppet tunes for Baby K to hear. He or she is bouncing around my belly with great energy and affirming what I’ve believed all along–we have a little music-lover on our hands. I already treasure this thought, and can’t wait to sing with baby all day long when the time comes.

In the midst of these natural, simple joys in our living room, I started thinking about the events of the day and the stark contrast between the bright, encouraging moments we’ve just had together as a family and the gray cloud that hung over the afternoon only hours ago. Earlier today, a friend received very difficult news; with her, in that space, it felt so natural to grieve as she processed what was taking place. Even now, she is certainly on my mind–the circumstances, heavy on my heart.

All of this has me thinking. The contrast between grief and joy is so apparent, so it’s striking how God allows room for both in the same space and time. Culturally, I think we’re inclined to believe that when we’re grieving, we should only grieve. When things are somber and low, we should be reverent and quiet and introspective, not letting on to any joy or relief. I suspect that if we could ask God how He feels about this, He would lovingly encourage us to find joy amidst sadness–and I think He shows us this in our daily lives if we look closely enough for the signs.

I’m reminded of the passage in Lamentations 3 that reads, “The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.” (Lam 3.22-23) Even when we are down and out, or at the end of our rope, we wake each morning with the promise that God’s mercies are new all over again. Isn’t that something!? God wants us to be renewed and refreshed by His mercy, no matter our circumstances. He will even go out of His way with something grand to capture our attention if it is required, and often, He’ll use the little things in our lives to remind us that our deep down joy really matters to Him. In the same way that our little one’s joys and needs and likes and dislikes already matter to me, ALL of our needs matter greatly to God.

Tonight, I’m so blessed by this truth, and by the understanding that my eyes should be open to the ways that God grants me joy–in the little things, in the very big things, and even in the middle of the very hard things in life. I’m reminded of an old hymn tonight that I don’t think of often (although I probably should). It seems the perfect way to capture how I feel about God’s faithfulness to us, and I’m offering it up tonight as consolation for anyone who has had a dark cloud hanging over the day today…

Great is Thy Faithfulness:

Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father, There is no shadow of turning with Thee; Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not, As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness! Morning by morning new mercies I see; All I have needed Thy hand hath provided— “Great is Thy faithfulness,” Lord, unto me!

Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest, Sun, moon and stars in their courses above, Join with all nature in manifold witness, To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth, Thy own dear presence to cheer and to guide; Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow, Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-jJDnummQ8w]

 

so grateful for the morning!

mm