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Ebb and Flow. (55)

This chapter is like waves–moods and feelings, energy and exhaustion all coming and going like a tide washing over whole days and receding on others. One moment, I’m extremely motivated and ready to take on the world and every task, and the next, I’m back on the couch trying to temper down the emotions of the day or the physical sensations of pressure or pain. It’s a roller coaster I don’t mind to be on, but also unpredictable.

Today I woke up after a stretch of seven hours of sleep. These days, that’s a really good, lengthy amount of time for me to be horizontal. I’ve noticed my sleep patterns changing, the early mornings growing earlier and more restless and the nights shorter, no matter when I go to bed. Even after five or six hours of rest, I find I’ll surprise myself by being strangely awake and ready to take on the day. Some days I can coast on that until evening, and other days, I’m ready to crash by lunchtime. I can be so ready to get things done, with a list of projects as long as my arm on my mind. Then I start in on one task and my energy fizzles out long before I’m ready to be done with the effort–just a confusing mix of my head and body not really being in sync with each other, no matter how I will them to be.

There’s a lot of grace for a pregnant mama in her third trimester, I know. But I don’t always have grace for myself, and my expectations are high. Once again I’m facing the message that I need more practice being still. Stillness remains a hard one for me and I wonder how long I’ll keep learning this lesson. To be wired a certain way and have your body working out of sync with that wiring is a tricky dynamic; for me, it’s a testing that adds to my weariness on the harder days.

I’m amazed at the ebb and flow of things right now…my physical capabilities, my emotional strength and resolve, my focus on what’s important and my fixation at times on things that will later be of no consequence at all. I think I’m feeling all of the feelings, and sometimes they come at once. To be happy and sad, joyful and resigned, hopeful and concerned, engaged and removed all in the same day some days, well…I guess I’ll just have to chalk that up to this process and aspects of it I certainly can’t control. I’m good with being here, just learning it in a way I’ve not experienced before. I wonder how I’ll feel on the other side of it all and what my reflection will be on this season when I’m much further down the road.

Tonight I feel the weight of the rhythms of this pregnancy, and not in a bad way, just in a way that makes me take notice. I want to remember that in the middle of this chapter, I was very much carried and not walking the path on my own. When I can’t make sense of it all (or of much), I take great comfort in knowing that it doesn’t all have to make sense to me. God is allowing things to be what they are or aren’t for reasons that will probably turn out to be beautifully stretching and growth-inducing. I’m all in for perseverance to produce character in my life in this process, so as I welcome it, I hope God will do with it all exactly as He sees best for me, for my family, and for this life growing inside of me.

For such a time as this,

MM

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What 32 Weeks Feels Like This Time. (56)

Hope. 32 weeks feels like a breath of fresh air, a sense of encouragement and a gift of renewed strength for this journey towards baby. There might be eight weeks to go on the calendar, but my heart and instinct tell me that our little one will be here sooner than eight weeks from now. The mere possibility of that is hope overflowing today.

I had my 32 week appointment today and an ultrasound afterwards to check on one concern, which has resolved. I wasn’t actually worried about this particular detail, as it’s something I’ve experienced and seen resolved with our previous babies as well. Still, it was a huge benefit to my heart today to see baby again, moving and full of life and actually even looking content on the monitor. I might not have noticed that so readily, but J and the ultrasound tech both noticed it, too. This little one has grown so much since our last scan twelve weeks ago. I know that’s an obvious statement, but to see how much they’ve changed is just wildly fascinating and amazing to me.

We still don’t know baby’s gender, thanks to the steadfast encouragement from J and our tech to stick to my convictions about waiting. Goodness, I’ve never been more curious than I am this time around, and I couldn’t even tell you why. I think I’ve just had a stronger sense earlier on with the others, and this little one has remained more of a mystery to me. Today though, seeing their eyes open and blink, watching them wiggle and move every which way, noticing even more of the details of their hands and feet and face…it was more than manna for this mama’s soul.

The day settled itself out today with low key plans and commitments. The chance to connect with another friend this afternoon was an extra blessing, and being home on a rainy Friday afternoon and evening filled something I’m craving right now. J and I had the chance to grab a quick brunch after my ultrasound this morning, and spending time talking over possible boy and girl names and who this baby might be was right where I needed to land after seeing more of our honeybee at our scan. I think I’ve fought back the belief for so long that these days might never come, and the relief and joy in getting to each milestone is big.

Every time I set down another weighty lie in this process, I balance the feelings of release and shame at the same time. How grateful I am to set another weight down, and how badly I feel that I’ve not trusted and believed even more. This is such a real human struggle, I think. And yet I know that God doesn’t look down on me for my unbelief–instead I’m humbled by the awareness that He celebrates my release. That, and He offers more of it and wants more of it for me all of the time.

Today, I’m experiencing freedom. Freedom from some worries sure, but mostly, freedom to be joyful in all God has done in this story up to now. This wee person in my belly is a marvelous, miraculous soul who also happens to have limbs and features and squish in all the right places. I could pinch myself. I can’t comprehend all of this process, even when we’ve been through it before. I’m just so, so grateful and wildly humbled to get to do this again. My heart is so filled with love for this little one, and I can’t wait (but I can wait) to put that love into practice out here in the world.

And counting…

MM

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The Practice of Friendship. (57)

I didn’t end up writing last night, and my guilt lasted far less time than it might have under different circumstances. I had the chance to FaceTime with a dear, dear friend and couldn’t pass it up. As the clock ticked on late into the night, I knew I was less and less likely to get to writing, but our conversation was timely and filling in way my heart needed so much…

The night before last, I sat under the teaching of a very wise and seasoned couple who shared on practices for living in an anxious age. They highlighted four priorities, including reading Scripture, prayer, singing and friendship. I loved hearing their stories about the ways that God has moved through friendship in their lives over time–especially the time when reaching out to two close friends led to the start of a men’s group that began in 1985 and still meets (weekly) to this day. It was so good to be reminded that it’s good and natural not only to need friendship, but to crave it.

On the heels of this teaching, the chance for me to connect with my friend was perfect. For multiple reasons and as a result of hard circumstances over the past year and some months, she and I have been challenged by the distance between our opportunities to talk at length–something we’ve learned to weather reasonably well, but also a scenario we would never wish. We used to see each other multiple times a week, and our continued and regular exchanges for many years led to a friendship that feels more like family. Knowing each other so well and walking through so much life together over the past number of years means our connection is strong. This is work that God has done in our friendship and not something we could just achieve on our own. There are many times when either of us feels a sense of what to pray for the other without talking, or when we both send a message within minutes of the other after a day or two without touching base. There’s no great way to summarize the beauty that this adds to life, but it’s certainly true that our friendship enhances our spiritual walks just as much as it does other aspects in the day to day.

Yesterday came on the heels of an emotional 24 hours for me, and having nearly five hours to catch up with someone who knows me so well was a balm. We always know when we’re overdue to connect (we feel that pretty frequently in this season), but when we do get the chance to share and catch up, there is a lightness in my heart and spirit that doesn’t just arrive on its own. Into the early hours of the morning this morning, I didn’t run out of steam or feel too irresponsible for not getting to bed while still growing this babe…more so, I felt peace wash over me and my sense of self return in a way I really needed. This depth of friendship is a gift I’d hate for either of us to miss, and it’s always been more than worth the effort and intentionality to stay in tune with each other and to find the time we’re able to keep lines of communication open.

It’ll be ten years next year since we first met, and God has done a LOT of growing and shaping in each of our lives over all that time. We’re neither of us the same people that we were so long ago, and I can say that’s in part because of the pruning and accountability that He has allowed through the gift of our friendship. The practice of engaging for the long haul has meant that in these recent years of new territory there was plenty to hang our hats on. Even now, when we see each other face to face so much less than before, it’s a joy to walk this journey of motherhood, family, home life, beauty, hardship, refinement and growth together. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just so grateful for the gifts I don’t deserve, but that God lavishes anyway because He is a good, good Father.

MM

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Out of Hiding. (61)

I’ve been thinking a bit today about what holds me back from experiencing the fullest joy that God has to offer, and I know it comes down to holding onto fear. It’s so sneaky, how this happens. I don’t mean to do it or even want to do it, but the voice in the back of my mind that whispers lies is regular enough that I sometimes forget it’s there. It’s familiar enough that lies sounds like normal thoughts, and if I’m not paying close enough attention, I miss them.

This is all of us, and so human. I don’t know anyone who never hears a lie in the back of their mind. The enemy is sneaky like that–robbing us of joy without us even noticing. How often do we let ourselves sit in the untruths that the enemy would have us believe? The thing is, this is a totally uncreative tactic. But it works, and so long as it’s effective, it’s a tool that we’ll keep encountering. This could be so discouraging, but I think it’s empowering in a way, too. When we figure out how to quiet the lies, the truth gets louder and bolder in our lives. Pushing back the darkness always makes room for more light.

So what lies do I mistake as truth sometimes these days, at least until I recognize them for what they are and shut them down? Probably the same kind of lies you hear sometimes, too. “That’s not good enough.” “You could do better/try harder/achieve more.” “If only you were _______.” “If you don’t get this right, then ________ consequence is sure to happen.” The list goes on. The sneakier lies bring God into the equation, sometimes threatening my inheritance with Him in my mind. “You’ve sinned, so _______.” “God will be so disappointed if______.” “Maybe God is punishing you because of ______.”

Yes, but NO. None of the above are true. They just aren’t. God isn’t mean, and He’s not poor. He doesn’t condemn us–He loves us as His children. His love is perfect, so He can’t condemn. He ONLY has more love for us, even if we feel it sometimes in the form of a consequence or conviction or weighty Truth, and even if that seems inconvenient. God always has His best for us. He sees us and calls us GOOD. And we can’t be enough because we could never be enough, which is why God loved us so much as to sacrifice Jesus to bridge the gap on our behalf. All of the lies we could ever tell ourselves or take on as truth can be tossed by the wayside because the enemy has ZERO authority in our lives.

Whew. I did not expect to get so passionate here tonight. But the reason I am is because I frequently experience the enemy trying to rob me or those I love of the joy that is offered to us through Christ, and I’m calling it all out on the carpet.

When I worry about the life of this baby in my belly? When fear creeps up in places I didn’t know it was lurking? NOT TODAY, Satan. I’m draging this all out of the dark because the enemy’s lies can’t hide in the light. And I’m tired of watching a weary world battle itself because of the lies we’ve been told and the lies we believe.

This baby God’s growing in me? He or she will have the exact number of days in their life that God has decided. I have zero control over that. So do I need to worry about it? No. Do I anyway? Yes. Can I ask God to take this worrying thought from me and relieve me of the burden of it? Absolutely.

Troubles we encounter with our kids. Do I need to worry about how they’ll turn out or if we’re making mistakes daily as parents or whether they’ll all be OK as adults in this mixed up world? No. Do I anyway? Naturally. Does God see my children and love them even more than I do? 100%. So can I depend on Him to have their best interest at heart? You bet.

Family dynamics. Are they sometimes more complicated than I’d like? Yes. Does this always mean I’ve done something wrong or need to carry the burden of other people’s choices or words or actions? Nope. Can I give this area of my life to God and watch Him work in my heart and the hearts of others? No doubt.

Marriage. Finances. Faith questions. Mental health. Physical health. The future. Does any one of us have all of this figured out? Definitely not. Does the enemy love to prowl around these issues and whisper lies that would drag us down or hold us back or reduce the freedom we’re meant to live in with Christ? Of course he does. Is God bigger, more powerful, all knowing, completely capable and loving beyond our wildest hopes or imaginations? All day, every day. And is He going to stop being who He says He is anytime soon? Never.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve kind of had it with the voice in my head that lies. I don’t tolerate lying in our home, so why would I tolerate it in my mind? Yes it’s a battle–a hard fought battle for all of us and an even harder fought battle for some. But we have the tools at our fingertips if we want them…prayer, the Word, worship, community, accountability. And if any of these is lacking, we can ask God for His help as we look to find it. He is a God who hears and a Father who answers. I’m so eager for more and more of His voice, and for less and less of anything else. Fear is a liar, and I’m hungry for deeper and greater and even more resilient joy.

Can we be the type of people who live lives of love in such a way that we drown out fear? The type of believers who live out joy because it’s in the fiber of our being? The army waging war against an enemy who is weak, because we’re confident in what is true and because we serve a God who is so much more? I sure hope we can. God, where I am today, in my sphere of influence, please let it be so.

MM

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A Seat at the Table. (63)

“When you arrive, there will be a place for you here.”

Isn’t that something we all crave? To know that we belong, that others have made room for us, that we’re welcome?

I joined a gathering of women last night at church, and that’s exactly what it felt like to walk into the room…there was a place for each one of us. A space where everyone was welcome, and when the room filled to overflowing, more chairs brought out in a hurry to make sure all in attendance could find a seat. This didn’t require a red carpet or lavish decoration. It didn’t call for fancy tables of desserts or servers bringing appetizers around on tiny napkins. All it took was an invitation, some intentionality and a few smiling faces at the door.

Just like the invitation we receive before communion, “Come, for all things are ready,” a table had been prepared and there was a place around it for everyone.

Invitation and welcome feel rarer and rarer these days, when the trajectory of things should be the opposite. In a world where tolerance and acceptance are preached loudly from every rooftop and corner, true invitation feels somehow out of date. The world is begging for recognition, for justice, for equality, but things feel more divisive than ever. We can’t ask to be included and wholly set apart at the same time. It’s confusing, and I don’t think it works.

What I know actually works is when we set down pride, pretense, superiority, labels and we pick up Jesus. Not a watered down version of Jesus the way that works most easily for us, but real, honest, justice-seeking, table-turning, prayerful, boundary-setting, truth-proclaiming, rest-seeking, grace-offering Jesus. And the only way to do that is to put aside agendas and expectations, and to walk into a room open to what God might do–both in us and through others. Last night was an example of this, and it was just about the most refreshing thing I could imagine.

Never mind that it’s been more than a year since we gathered in the same way, without masks covering our faces, without fear standing in the way of hugs, handshakes, conversations shared at close range. That was a huge and beautiful part about this gathering, for sure. But it was so much more than that. It was college-aged women learning from near-centenarians and grandmotherly types gleaning truth from women half their age. It was laughter and tears with brand new faces and friends reunited after so, so long. It was God being invited into a space and generations worshipping Him together and stories being told that linger long after everyone’s headed home. This? This is what’s possible when we extend an invitation with intention and no pretense. And this is what the Body really looks like in a broken world in desperate need of acceptance, belonging and Truth.

When I think about the world our baby is coming into, I could fear so many things. There’s enough heartache and evil to scare anyone away from ever wanting to become a parent at all. But God. And invitation. And the hope and expectation that God will move as He does and make room as He does, and that this child’s life will be filled with purpose, “For such a time as this.”

Oh, little one. I want you to always, always know that when you arrive, there will be a place for you here. You already have a seat at our table. We are making space for you in physical ways, yes, but God is making a place for you in every other sense, too. I believe it with every fiber of who I am, and I trust Him in all that He says He will do. That’s how I know. I know that I know that I know there is a place being prepared for you in a way that I can’t achieve with the perfect nursery or the most beautiful bassinet. This place of yours is being laid forth by the Creator of the Universe, and as the days draw nearer to your arrival, I sense the quickening of His preparations for you.

We all need a place at the table. We all need to belong. And you, Honeybee, you belong in every sense of the word. Your life is already making a difference here. I can’t wait for you to discover exactly how.

May we all experience the love and acceptance we so crave as we seek to find room for ourselves at the table.

MM