The Planned Leap of Faith

Several days ago a friend on Facebook posted something that I’ve pondered about for days.

She took the scenic route home one night, and had her two kids in the car. They approached a red light, and saw a homeless man holding a sign asking for money for McDonald’s or Wendy’s because he was hungry and homeless. Her oldest boy (who is 3-4 years old) wanted her to stop and get the guy some food. He kept pointing out the McDonald’s and Wendy’s locations where she could stop. However, (no judgement here) she didn’t stop. She told her kids that their dad was waiting and maybe some other time.

I can relate. A lot.

She continued on about why didn’t she trust.

I can relate. A lot.

I’ve pondered over what she wrote for days. I’ve thought about the last few months, heck the last year of my life and wondered when I quit trusting. I’m not talking about not trusting that the homeless guy wouldn’t hurt me or my family, but when did I quit trusting myself, my husband, my marriage, my relationships.

I’m hard on myself. Really hard. I like things to go according to plan. I like things to be perfect. I like to know the future and make sure that something is doable. I even like to plan out all the steps to my leaps of faith. But that makes it not a leap, but just the next step. Yet, when the tiniest thing screws up my “plans” my world is completely turned upside down. There is no room for error, or even to recover, so that tiny pebble in the road, suddenly becomes a boulder, and everything else seems more difficult and more complicated than it should have been.

A few days ago we purchased a new car. After prodding from a friend the night before not to worry so much and think about things so much, I told my husband to just do it. He was rather surprised. Okay, scared the hell out of him is probably a little more accurate. He was so confused by the very sudden, change of heart. He was right, we needed to do it. We needed to quit relying on my parents and their patience with the use of their additional car. So, thankfully I didn’t freak out while he was signing the papers, but the payments were a little more than I wanted. Only $40 more, but still. When we had the total amount of our monthly payment, I added it up with our rent and our truck payment. I very nearly cried. It’s a lot of money. It’s a lot of money when you are terrified that something will go wrong. It’s-a-lot-of-money-when-you-only-work-part-time-and-if-your-husband-loses-his-job-you-will-be-homeless. So I might have freaked out after we left the dealership. I said might have. However, if questioned and even tortured I will deny everything.

When did I stop trusting? Why didn’t I have faith that things would be okay? That God would provide for us? He most certainly did when my husband lost his job in January. We didn’t have to borrow money from anyone to pay the bills. We got by. I was trying to focus on school and not worry so much, and things turned out fine. In fact I told my husband when he was offered one job that the pay was slightly above minimum wage, that if he wanted to hold out and see what happened, he could. I’d like to find that girl. I’m quite sure she only shows up in periods of sleep deprivation.

I’ve always hesitated. I’ve always planned. It takes months of planning for something most people can decide in a few minutes.

I am scared.

I listen to the doubts that creep into my mind of all the possibilities and of all the things that can go wrong.

At what point did that become okay? What about all the other things I make excuses about because I’m scared of what the outcome might be? That list is long. What about all the things I'm afraid to try to attempt because I'm scared of the outcome? That list is very, very long. Which is unfortunate, not only for myself but for John, and for our friends and our family, because they are missing out on the wonderful experiences that I'm too afraid to follow through with.

There is so much going on in my life that I’m terrified of failing. There are so many things that I want the outcome to be good. No better than good, amazing, magnificent. Yet, those excuses keep popping back up.

I’m never good enough. I’ll never graduate. I’ll never pass all my classes. I won’t lose the weight this time either. I won’t be enough. I’ll let my friend Andrea down. I’ll let my friend Amber down. I’ll say the wrong thing. I’ll do the wrong thing. I'll never measure up. I'll never be enough.

I won’t trust.

Them, or myself or anything.

Sure, I’m still terrified, I still want to “what if” every single decision to death. Yet, if I don’t trust myself, my husband, my friends, or my family – then what am I doing? Other than adding gray to my hair and wrinkles to my face, which my husband does an amazing job of pointing out.

There are a variety of things that have nagged me for months. That have tried to push me into taking that leap of faith. Yet, I've resisted. Even the sermon at church yesterday was motivated at me following through and trusting myself. Talk about divine intervention.

So I'm trying. I'm trying not to think every single situation to death. I'm trying not to let that little voice that tells me I can't, or that I'm not good enough just ramble. Then when I get so tired of it, I'm stuff a bandanna in her mouth and sending her to the corner.



Borrowed from Mt. Hope Chronicles

I need to learn how to be a good friend, a good wife, a good daughter. To stop hesitating. To stop second guessing. To stop letting the excuses control my thoughts and my actions. Before I realize that it’s too late.

Sometimes Different is Just Different

I'm 7 days into my no school vacation. 12 more days until Summer school begins. It's not nearly enough of a break. But, I refuse to spend the next 12 days whining, at least here about school. Well, I'll try not to whine much.

I had big plans this semester. I wanted to be able to have a life and go to school and work. I swear I keep finding out more ways that this whole process doesn't work than it does. I can't seem to find a groove where I don't feel like I'm giving something up or missing out on something, yet as time continues to march forward, I honestly don't can't remember what I'm fighting for or towards.

This year has been full of suck. If I thought last year was bad, this year makes last year look like a year long vacation at the beach. Perfect weather, no sunburns, my body clad in a bikini and no one puking. Perfect. This year...words cannot even begin to describe the level of suck.

Yet, I can't seem to make myself wish for something different. I can't seem to see myself anywhere else, other than where I am. I can't believe that I would give up the Saturday cookie runs with my sweet friend, who this year was diagnosed with cancer. I can't imagine giving up my Friday nights cooking goodies to share with her and her sweet family. I can't imagine a world where my in-laws were totally awesome. Yet, I've got to the point that I actually prefer their indifference. No more guilt about spending time with my family, and less rubbing in how perfect everyone else is to John and I. My grades aren't what I would like for them to be, yet, I can't imagine giving up more than I feel like I already have to make them completely awesome. Although, I'm quite sure if I would cut the cord to Facebook, I would be fine. It's a great time waster for college students who want to avoid homework. I stalk people I don't even know, and probably wouldn't even like in real life so I can avoid homework. Yet, I can't imagine giving up school, even though most days it feels like it will be a lifetime before I graduate.

So, yeah, I would like things to be different. I would like John's cousin's wife to have not ended her own life. I would like my friend to be well so we could enjoy our hot sauce dates and movie nights. I would like to be finished with school. I'd like my grandfather to be able to sit at my college graduation and watch me get my diploma. Yet, all of the things I would like different, I would miss out on the thought provoking conversations that I've had on a random cookie run. Conversations that, even though she doesn't realize the impact they have had, has caused us to completely change our plans for the future. They have caused us to have conversations and rethink things that we were unsure of before.

If this year has taught me anything it's that sometimes different is just different. It's not any better or any worse than the what's happening in my little world right now, it's just different. So, I guess the saying about if all of the worlds problems were in a pile and you could see what all was going on in other people's lives, you would gladly take your own problems back. Besides, sometimes those problems end up being a blessing, and who can complain about that?

I Just Hope

Read this first. Infertility: 3 things to ask God for

This was typed to the very, very wonderful friend in response to this link. I just couldn't not share it. Don't worry, I won't share her response.

I love you so very, very much. So I'll forgive you for making me cry. : )


I'd stopped thinking about having a baby. In fact I didn't cry the last facebook friend who announced their pregnancy. I was having one of those rare moments of joy at our life.
Then stupid concert Saturday. It's all their fault. One of their sponsors for the tour is World Vision. They are a group that allows you to sponsor a child in a 3rd world country. I ended up having to actually go to their website, because about halfway through the video I was thinking about how different my life would be if I had a child. I get to play full time college student and worker bee, and I couldn't do that with a baby. Then again, there are days that I think about the baby we lost. He would have turned 8 in February. The 12th to be exact. That was my due date. I asked Brad a few years ago, if he knew what that date was. He didn't. I was heart broken for weeks. Now, it just seems to sneak up on me. I was getting ready to go to bed this year when the thought hit me.
I never made it to my first doctor's appointment. I had a miscarriage the night before. That was the hardest phone call I think I've ever had to make.
We have talked about adoption. We have talked about doing a round of in-vitro. I don't know what to do. So I pray. I pray that I'll pay attention and not let fear, or the timing stop me from following through. I pray that I won't be so self absorbed that I'll do what God wants. I pray for hope. Hope that my marriage survives. Hope that my heart doesn't break. Hope that I don't say the wrong thing to a friend who is pregnant, or to a friend that whines about her morning sickness, or her swollen ankles, or the sleepless nights. I hope that I don't avoid them so much that I hurt them, because I can't get over it. I hope that I can avoid the baby dedication and mother's day services at church. Because it's just another reminder. I want to hate mother's day and father's day, because infertiles are forgotten. We still have to celebrate with our own mothers, grandmothers, sisters, friends. I didn't cry last year, for the first time in 8 years. I didn't go to church either, but I didn't cry.

You want to be hopeful, but at the same time you have to be realistic because month after month, after month of disappointment gets old. You want to fit in, because suddenly you feel like the kid who always got pick last in gym class. The kid that no one wanted to eat lunch with because they were a little different. Sunday school classes don't know what to do with you. Apparently neither do pastors.

The drugs made me crazy. Hot flashes, cramps, mood swings, tender breasts, and morning sickness. I was miserable, and the cruelty of all of the symptoms of pregnancy without the baby was just... cruel. Add that to the stress of planned sex, which sounds like every guys fantasy, but after following doctors orders, and you have to preform on certain dates, it becomes a chore. Then, watching your bank account vomit out money so fast that it makes your head spin. It's just so overwhelming and so..alienating.

Then add the jealousy. The why can that 400 pound lady have 15 kids that she can't afford and I can't have just one. Your jealous of pregnant women, of women with children, of women without children, simply because it's still their choice. It doesn't feel like it's been taken away from them yet. It's unfair, you cry, you rant, you apparently sit down on a pallet of dog food in the middle of Walmart and cry about the injustice of it all. Not that I've ever done that.

Then you realize at that moment, surrounded by dog food, that this isn't the answer either. Of course, you then realize that the dog food aisle has a distinct smell, and the you hope you can find somewhere inconspicuous to throw up. Not that I've done that either. : )

You lose yourself, and find yourself all at the same time. Which had nothing to do with how this started, but I got a little carried away. : ) Apparently there is the blog post I've been looking for.

Back to Saturday. I'm wondering. If I'm not being pushed in another direction. That little voice in my head keeps telling me that there are different ways to have a child. I don't know if that means that I should sponsor a child. I don't know if that means that I should call this friend that works at Bruckners as a social worker, who lucky for me, has faced infertility and won. She has a 4 year old, and 8 month old twin girls. She did treatments to get them all. She told me, whenever I was ready to call her and she would tell me what my options were. I don't know if I should call an adoption agency. I don't know. Lost is an understatement.

It's a call I'm not ready to make, just yet. Not because I can't see myself loving a child that isn't mine. Just because I don't want to give up on having my own just yet. I'm trying so hard to not hang on to that and miss an opportunity. I'm trying to let that baby go.

I'm also, probably much to Brad's great disgust, attempting to lose weight again. I've kickboxed, this week, which I haven't done in months. I'm trying to pay more attention to what I'm eating. I think that part of me hopes that the doctors might be right and my weight is an issue, and that the other part hopes not, because I don't want the reason that we couldn't have a baby was because I wouldn't starve myself to lose weight. I think he is afraid to find out the truth too.

When the whole situation gets me down, I pray for peace. I pray for contentment. So that I can stop the fighting between my head and my heart, and that I can be thankful and find contentment in the friends and family that let me spoil their children and crash their t-ball games and love their kids.

I also pray for understanding so I don't choke my mother when she tells me the latest cure all that she found on the internet. And I just pray I don't snap where my in-laws are concerned, because their issues are way to many to list in a single request.

I like guided prayer too. I also like answers. I'm not patient. However, once I stopped being so stubborn, the only thing I hear when I ask when is it going to be my turn is "Be patient. Not yet." I just hope I will be ready. I just hope I won't hold on so tightly that I miss my chance.

I just hope.

Finding Faith

Last Friday I posted the following post on Facebook: ""And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands, For You are who You are no matter where I am, And every tear I've cried You hold in Your hand, You never left my side and though my heart is torn, I will praise You in this storm." ~Casting Crowns. Send us a few extra prayers today, we have hit a bump in the road and could use some additional strength."

Then on Monday, well you can read about the tragedy that our family endured over the weekend.

Then yesterday, we got more news, that we could have lived without. John's grandmother, Granny, has a mass on her brain.

For about half a second I wanted to cry.

My husband's unemployed, my beautiful niece's heartache, and now Granny.

Yet, as I sat in the truck with my husband, this immense feeling of peace washed over me. It was as if I had taken a breath and blew all of that stuff out and everything was perfect again.

Then I wanted to laugh. Pure laughter, not sarcasm, not because it was the only thing going to keep me from having a meltdown in our driveway, but simply because the thought of that old saying that "God will never give you more than you can bear" popped into my head.

Apparently, I can handle all of this. It's no big deal. God has faith that I can handle this.

So that got the wheels turning and had me wondering, if His faith in me is great enough that I can handle, working full time, school full time, husband's unemployment, nieces situation, Granny, then shouldn't that faith in Him to get us through all of this be twice as large, if not larger?

Sure, I felt silly laughing and joking with my husband about "bringing it", not that I was asking God for more sorrow or heartache, but that I was just so impressed by God's faith in our strength, in my strength. So we laughed, and we both knew that no matter what, everything was still ok. If not even good.

We have a place to live, a car, we are both healthy, I'm still employed. We have so much, and there are some with so little, that it's not unreasonable to have these moments of joy in the midst of unhappiness and trials and life lessons, or whatever you want to call this.

Sure, I have moments where I panic, but they are moments. There are moments of worry, but it's not constant. Because every single time that those thoughts pop up, I have prayed. Some days there have been a lot, and other days, just a few. I've asked for my husband to find a job he loves, I've asked that my niece find peace, I've asked that Granny's mass be something simple and easy to fix. I've asked for the strength to wipe the worry out of my mind so that I can focus on homework.

I'm simply putting one foot in front of the other and hoping that we can learn something from this, that I can learn something from this. There is a blessing in here somewhere. I just have to find it.

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9

“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.” Jeremiah 29:11