Belief in Prayer

A few days ago, as I chatted with my sister-in-law about a new job that she was applying for, one of her regular patrons at her current place of employment came forward and proceeded to discuss with her that he would pray for her and that the situation, which she was torn about, would resolve itself exactly as it should.

He asked her if she believed that by praying for God to help with the new job, that she would indeed get the new job. She bumbled around, because she's torn about leaving one job for another. Yet his words struck something inside my head.

How often do I believe that what I'm praying for will happen?

Like how often I pray for something to happen, or for some guidance and I don't exactly get the response I was hoping for. If I even get a response. Apparently I'm giving up before I've even asked for what it that I want. Sucks to be a pessimist. Yet, I keep praying, but while I'm praying and hoping, there is a part of me that is telling myself that the odds of whatever it is that I'm asking for, aren't going to happen.

I've thought about it a lot the last few days, and I know that while my husband and I were trying to desperately to get pregnant and I was praying and bartering and begging with God, that a part of me believed that it just wasn't going to happen. Yet, while my friend Andrea has battled cancer the last year, as her health took a left turn and she ran into some complications, I stopped praying for a miracle, but instead that God's will be done. I prayed for peace for her and her family, I prayed for comfort for those that needed it, but never once did I ask that she not die. Simply because she would have been totally pissed at me for asking for that. Every time that I would pray for her, I could hear her voice asking me what I was doing when I would pray for a miracle. She wasn't praying for one, why should I be. I think that's why I've had...(searching for the right word here)...peace, comfort, even joy at the situation. Simply because she was okay with this alternative too. She's not in pain, she's not feeling guilty about missing out on her children's Halloween parties, and soccer games. I know that she'd rather have stuck around to watched her children grow up, she would be perfectly content with this alternative too as long as she knew it was what God's plan was.

I've had enough faith for things to work out for her and her family just like God would have wanted, just like she would have wanted, but I can't have the same amount of faith for my own life. Thanks to the misery of the last few months with my gallbladder, I had lost some weight, mostly because I wasn't eating. Thankfully (well not so much), I've managed to hold steady, and even gained a few pounds back. Yet the last few days, I've struggled. I don't like that number on the scale, and I've asked for strength. I need to get to a healthy weight, I want to get to a healthy weight, so I can be around and annoy my husband as long as possible. Yet, while I'm asking for strength to stick with it, part of me doubts that I'll ever do it. Which is probably the reason that I can't get the scale to move, unless I'm literally starving.

Part of me doubts that college will ever be more than a hassle again; that I'll never actually enjoy it again. School starts back next month, and for the first time since I started back, I dread it. Even with the lack of stuff to do at work, I just don't want to go back. I still want the degree, it's just lost its charm. Thus the crappy grades, lack of motivation to do homework, and general hate of it all in general.

Then there is the ever present infertility issues. Part of me wants to believe that if I lose enough weight I'll miraculously get pregnant. Yet, as I'm praying for strength to stick with going to the gym and eating better, part of me believes that it will never happen, and thus getting pregnant will never happen.

It's a vicious cycle, but someone has to stick with it. Although, for my sanity, I'd just as soon as it not be me.

So I've found myself wondering if by not having more faith that it will work out the way it was meant to, that in turn it's not working out the way it should.

If I don't believe that God can do it, then why should he prove to me that he can?

So, that's going to be my resolution for today, for tomorrow, and for everyday for the rest of my life; is to trust that God has my best interests at heart. I know he does, but I've got to learn to remove all doubts that between the two of us, I'm capable. Everyone else thinks I am, so I should too. I'm also going to have to believe his voice when he tells me to be patient; to believe that what I'm praying for will happen. That the child I so desperately want will come, that the weight loss will happen and the pounds will melt away, and that college will not steal my happiness, but add to it again. I'll resolve to have more faith in God and in my abilities and less doubt, because the only person who is being cheated and missing out is me.

Well, and my sanity.

Suppose I Do....

Note: I wrote this post last September. So ignore the back to school references, and just pretend that I haven't had this sitting in my drafts for 6 months.


All across West Texas this morning, thousands of alarms were heard, thousands of cries of cranky children, and glorious shouts of joy were heard as everyone got up and headed back to school. (You know, back in August when I actually wrote this, so please allow for a small time delay, you've been warned.)

Unfortunately I wasn't immune. Not because I'm a teacher, or because I have children, but because I'm crazy and decided to continue to finish my degree. I keep hoping someone will invent a cure for crazy. I'd do it, but I'm an accounting major, not chemistry.

Sitting in church yesterday morning, after our pastor made a comment, that at the moment I can't remember. I'm blaming it on sleep deprivation and all the info that has been thrown my way today. My mind wandered a little.

More on that later. Simply because you need info for this to make sense. You know, in case you are just tuning in. And because I want to confuse you totally before you get to the good stuff.

My husband and I spent a couple of years (a lot of years ago) doing infertility treatments. We made the choice to continue on child-free, at least for the time being. Yet, there was some part of both of us that won't let go of that hope that someday, somehow, someway we will have that child that we both so want.

So as our pastor was discussing how they were rebuilding and how they were doing it together, and next to, and beside each other, and how all of these people were doing what they needed to do to get the job done, he said something that I just couldn't stop hearing over and over in my head.

And I'm not really sure if he actually said it, or if it was just how I took it. Maybe both. Because I seriously didn't know how my husband would feel about me scrambling to write down exactly how it came across, which by the way honey, no more not doing that, I'll regret it later. Especially since the frenzy would be so I could write a post for you to read.

Pastor B said something about trusting that they were doing what they were always meant to do. That they were following God's plan. That they were trusting God's plan, and that in the middle of the horrible, unbelievable, most horrific moment, God was right there.

It's so easy to tell someone else that, but it's much harder, especially for a control freak like myself, to believe it. I've given lots of situations over to God. I've given him my grandfather's life, I've given him my husband's, my marriage, I've handed over job loss and the unknown when there is no income coming in, I've even given him parts of my life. Not all of it, just parts of it. Because there's this one area that I just can't seem to let go of. I want to, but just about the time that I reach out to hand it over, my heart wants to cling to it.

Yet yesterday morning, sitting in that chair, in that freezing worship center, I heard God tell me to be patient. To have faith. To let it go. Trust. I've got some fabulous plans, ones that even you won't argue with.

Yep, apparently God is sarcastic. He knows what gets my attention.

It's not the first time, I've heard those words either.

Obviously you can see a pattern here too. And here. And here.

I still haven't obeyed. I still haven't managed to let her go.

Yes, I said her.

I've never doubted that I would have a little girl. There is nothing wrong with little boys, and the more time I spend with a certain 4 year old, I'd take one of them too. But I always known that there would be a little girl in there too. No matter what, I would have a girl. I've seen her face, I've dreamed about her. I've smelled her. I've held her. No, not in my arms, but I've dreamed about her for so long, that she's as real to me as my nieces and nephews. She's beautiful, she's perfect, she's everything that I always imagined she would be, but that's made her so much harder to give up. That's what's made it so much harder to walk away from.

Saturday I thought that my dogs might not live to see another day. Every behavioral issue with them was magnified about a bajillion times. They whined, they barked, they escaped, they got in the trash, they got mud in my car because they felt the need to escape. Everything that they did that annoyed me, they did it twice, and way worse than usual. So I lost my patience, I might have grabbed one, and held their sweet little face in my hands and told them that if they didn't quit, I would send them to the other side of town to the burrito place with questionable ingredients. I think they knew I was serious, because they backed off. Yet, if it had came down to it, I couldn't have walked up to some random stranger and given them away. I'm not sure I could even hand them over to my parents.

Insert smoke, and the Jeopardy theme song. You know, while the wheels are turning.

No, I wouldn't want to do it, but yeah, I could.

Well, crap. This wasn't the direction that this was supposed to be going.

Maybe that's why this issue keeps coming up. Because I refuse to have faith that God has my best interests at heart. I've seen to many close calls that should have ended differently to not believe that God is way more brilliant and has a better plan in mind. I keep going back to January when John lost his job. I love his job now, and if I had pushed him to take the job that he was offered making $9 an hour, we would be barely getting by. I'd be so stressed and so worried about how we were going to pay this bills while I went to school and only got a part time paycheck instead of a full time paycheck. But because I trusted John that this company was going to offer him the job. I believed that God would take care of us. I took a big leap of faith. Big. And 6 months later, we are fine. Because I let go.

Too bad there isn't a class that teaches letting go. Of course, I'd probably fail it. Several times.

Letting go is hard for me. I analyze everything. Every.thing. And then, I try and predict how each possible outcome will actually work out, so that I can try and predict the future. I try to manipulate everything to what I could have said different or done different or...anything different. I know that until I learn to let it go, it's going to do nothing but cause me undue heartache and headaches. It's going to be an area of my life that I second guess, and that will continue to break my heart.

"Some people think it's holding on that makes you strong. Sometimes it's letting go." ~Sylvia Robinson

"When God takes something from your grasp, He's not punishing you, but merely opening your hands to receive something better." ~Author Unknown

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.

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.

A Lesson In Patience

It's hard to believe that my husband will have been unemployed one month to the day on Saturday. It's hard to believe that for all of the jobs that he has applied for nothing, has made it official yet, that is until today.

And now he has two job offers. Two. Which sounds all kinds of awesome, except for the wife who worries. And if you want to meet her, well, she is the one who's going to write this post today.

She's the one who worries that everything won't work out and that the rent will be due and that will mean money pulled out of the savings account that she doesn't want to touch, for fear that we will need that money later. Even though technically we need it now. So she's the freak who is writing this post today.

Amazingly so I, er she, hasn't been as freaked out about this unemployment period as she should have been, as she typically would have been. She has tried to remain calm and not panic. Yet as the days continue to pass, and with two offers on the table (one of which has no been turned down), she feels the need to panic. Because what if...

-something goes wrong and they change their mind
-he doesn't pass the physical
-he doesn't really like the job
-I don't really like his job

And the list goes on and on. She's trying to be patient. She's trying to trust God for a change instead of pushing her husband into taking the safe route. She's trying.

This job, well, it's kinda the job that dreams are made of. It's making more money than the job he lost. It's for a good, solid company, with some excellant benefits. It offers the possibility of promotions and a career instead of just a job, and let's face it, I'm (so is she) a find a career job, not just a paycheck. Because every job that I've had, I've loved. Could be why I've had so few jobs in my life, I've been lucky, very lucky. They like him enough, that they are already thinking of promotions for him, based on his experience and him.

I...er she talked, via text message to a good friend last week, and her response was "God is good!"

Yes, yes he is. The job is amazing. He has orientation on Monday at 10am. So the job is basically his. Just one more hurdle to overcome. One that I'm hoping will open his eyes to some other areas of his life that need some attention and some work as well.

Heck, it's some areas that my her life chould use as well.

It's funny, I've felt God's presence in my life more in the last month than I think I have my entire life. Sure, I've felt his precense in the weeks after my grandfather died, and the weeks that Papa laid in the hospital, waiting. But instead of comfort, it was peace and a lack of worry that I was given. I'm pretty sure that last Friday I heard laughter and the voice that had an "I told you so" quality about it telling me "See what happens when you let go of things and let me take care of it."

Point taken.

Then for half a moment I wondered just how different my life would be, if I could give my infertility away like that. I've wondered a dozen or more times if that little girl that I've dreamed about might be a reality by now, if I had just been patient, and had more faith in God's timing instead of my desire for right this minute.

I've also learned that it's ok that I haven't given up on her. That voice reassured me that "I'm not supposed too" give up on her just yet.

*Note to the family reading this - no, I'm not pregnant. No, I'm not going to be attempting to get pregnant. But I know that I'm not holding on to that little girl so tightly that I'm missing out on the child I could have if I would fill out the adoption paperwork. I believe with all my heart that isn't what we are supposed to do. So I'm not giving up, I'm just going to keep going. Like I've done every single day for that last 6 years. I'm going to hope, that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

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

Puzzling

Have you ever put together a puzzle? You have all these pieces of various shapes and you are trying to make them fit together to make one glorious picture. And the bragging rights that come with having the patience to see it through until the end.

My husband and I have recently started attending church on a regular basis again.

I know, I know. This is something that we should have been doing anyway, but sometimes, we needed the rest more often than we needed to get up early on a Sunday morning. Selfish - absolutely. Did we miss going? More than you can imagine.

Apparently going to church is good blogging material. *Note to self - go to church more = less writer's block.

Got it!

Yet, sometimes church is a painful reminder of what is missing in our life. They talked yesterday, often of raising children. And as I squirmed in my seat and looked around the room, I wondered if there was someone else in the room who could relate. Or if we were the only ones there. I imagined their discomfort. I watched the young, unmarried guy sitting to our left, and the young unmarried girl sitting next to me, and I wondered, as they both set there listening intently if they had any idea how life could be so cruel. You could see them both mentally making notes about their future children. And all I could think about was "if you only knew".

Neither one of them have any guarantees that they will have a child. One of them might just find themselves in our boat.

See we are that one piece of the puzzle that you are sure fits right "there", and you turn it and turn it and try to make it fit, but nothing lines up like it should, there are gaps, there are pegs where holes are supposed to be. We can't relate, and instead of actually listening to everything that our pastor said this morning, I only half way paid attention. Because all I could think about what how I would never fit.

We can't won't go to Sunday School, because the college class is too old for both of us, the newly married - well, we will be married 12 years this year, so I'm pretty sure we are past that stage. Well, the next stage - young families. Then parents of students. Then the golden oldies. They discuss parenting and raising children. It's hard enough to walk into Tar.get and see the tiny Halloween costumes and not remember what I'm missing out on, let alone sit through and participate in a class that I can't relate too.

So all the while I'm sitting there, thinking about what great parents we would make, and how I wish that the pastor would understand that not every single person in his congregation can relate. Some of us will never have to raise a child to obey Jesus. Some will never have that opportunity.

The bad thing is that, me, being me, wants to fit. I want the puzzle piece to just magically fall into place. I want to be able to not sit there and think about how I can't relate and how much that sucks. I want to be able to follow through and look into adoption. I want to have a child of my own. I don't want to be that one piece of the puzzle that feels like an "outsider" or that I'm some how flawed.

Yes, I realize that I'm not "flawed", that it's just all part of the grand scheme of things, but at the same time, it would be nice to not feel like an outsider, because I can't relate. I realize that it's not intentional, it's just a fact of life.

Thankfully, at some point, my attention focused back in on what the pastor was saying. If my husband wasn't "busy" with something else that the pastor was doing, I probably would have walked out. Because it's a profound thought. He was using an analogy about how we have lower expectations for ourselves, for our children and he questioned whether or not we had the same issue with God.

Have I lowered my expectations of God?



Read tomorrow's post for that answer. Bring tissues. It's a tear jerker.

Who You Aren't

It's not who you are that holds you back...it's who you think you aren't. ~Unknown


The last few weeks have been draining, both physically as well as mentally. It's hard watching someone you love suffer, and die. I wouldn't with that experience on anyone, but at the same time, I think it's something that every human should witness, simply because it gives you a big dose of humility.

I've spent the better part of the last month feeling incredibly sorry for myself. With all the drama with my in-laws and my summer slowing slipping away, and some of the plans I had hoped to accomplish with it, it's been a hard few months around here. Self doubt has definitely taken over my life.

Friday on Facebook, one of my contacts had posted the above quote, and it got the wheels turning. There may or may not have been grease involved, since it's been a while since those wheels were turning.

It's not who I am. Why? Because, amazingly so, I'm awesome. I'm sweet, I'm kind, according to the family at the memorial service, I'm an amazing writer. John's cousins poured on the praise, even my father-in-law commented, so obviously, I can, on occasion, write. It's not who I am that holds me back. It's not who I am that things I'm too fat, too stupid, too slow, too old, not worthy, not beautiful, not a good writer. It's the person I think I'm not.

That person, is a real pain in the neck. She thinks all those things. She thinks that I have nothing to offer, she thinks that I can't. When in fact, I can. She thinks that I'm not worthy of praise, and sometimes even love. She thinks that I'm not, and everyone else is.

I'm starting to think that she needs a muzzle. Preferably in pink.

I can. I am. I will. I have.

I can do whatever I want, as long as I put in the effort and the work. I am worthy. Of love, of understanding, of kindness, of happiness. I will go where I want to and do what I want in my life, so long as I work towards it. I have a great family, wonderful friends, and my husband's extended family, with cousins (who let me spoil their children), and aunts and uncles, and a grandfather. Yes, it still hurts that they don't love me. It still hurts that they don't bother to get to know me, but I can't make them. I can only be me, and let them find out for themselves that they have been missing.

That part that isn't me, well she's still me too. She's the one who sometimes pushes me into working harder. She's the one with incredible strength, that let's me borrow some of hers, when I think I can't go on. She's the one who pushes me to do things that terrify me. That person that I'm not, she is part of me too, I just don't listen to her much. Sometimes, she thinks that I'm the one that needs the muzzle. And duct tape. She's the one who tells me I can, when I think I can't. She's the one who pushes me to do better, to be better. She's the one who tells me that I am (fill in the blank).

Most of the time, she could use a muzzle. But don't tell her I said that.

Patience is a Virtue

The past week has been one of the longest weeks of my life. We have waited. We have prayed, we have cried, we have hoped, we have lived. We have survived on little sleep, poor diets and broken hearts. We have waited.

Today, we still wait. Today, we wonder. We hope. We hope for peace. Each day we watch him decline. We watch seziures that result in the brain damage. We pray for him to find peace. We pray for him to let go. We pray that whatever is keeping his body and spirit from moving on, comes soon. We pray for each other. We try to go to work and about our lives as best we can, knowing what the outcome is going to be. We know it's just a matter of time.

I don't believe that some miracle will occur and that Papa will wake up and be really made that we have sold his stuff to pay for his funeral expenses. I don't believe that he is going to wake up one day and be able to speak and talk to us. I believe that death is inevitable.

But what right do I have to not believe in anything? What right to I have to not believe in a miracle? What right to have not to believe in general?

I know when my husband has a severe wreck that I prayed that he was OK. I prayed that he would be ok. I prayed that the people in the other car would be ok. When my dad had a heart attack, I prayed. I hoped that he would be ok. I hoped that he would slow down, I hoped he would be around for a while longer.

Yet each sickness and each event that has occured within the last week, I have simply asked that God's will be done. His will. Not mine. His. It's not that I don't want Papa to be around for another 50 years, but each time I find myself praying, I start out asking for his comfort and his peace, and then I find myself telling God that his will be done. Not mine. His.

So for the past few days I have wondered how differently my thoughts, my faith, my marriage, and my life in general would have been if I had prayed for things differently. If I took the control out of my hands and put it back completely where it belongs. I'm a control freak by nature, I like to know what's going on, and offer my opinion on how to fix it. I like to know what's happening at 2pm tomorrow and the day after that. I like structure, routine, control. Then that gets me to questioning my infertility. I have always said that it was all up to God, but that's been one of many areas of my life that I just haven't been willing to turn over. That I haven't been willing to let go of. Sure, we go about our daily lives, but there is always a part of me that wants a baby, I grieve for the child that I have never had. After the past week, I have been led to wonder what would happen if I handed the control back over. If I let go.

The situation with Papa is definitely in someone else's hands now. We continue to pray, we continue to hope that his comfortable, and that he is at peace.

Still we wonder? What's God waiting for? What's the big plan? What are we missing?

Independence Day

Independence Day. After the last forty-eight hours those words will have a whole new meaning.

Today we wait. We wait for test results. We hope. We pray. We reminisce. We hope.

Last night we talked about the pain that Papa has suffered with. We talked about how hard that would be. We tried to prepare ourselves for the worst, all the time hoping for the best.

Sunday morning John's phone rang and we got the news. Papa had suffered a heart attack in the early morning hours. As we got to the emergency room, we were unprepared for the sight of him laying on the gurney, with a respirator sitting with him, helping him to breath.

We learned that the nursing home staff had found him, at approximately 4 am unconscious and in respiratory distress. They began to administer CPR, and in the process of trying to get him breathing again, he went into cardiac arrest. We have no idea of how long his brain was deprived of oxygen. But we hope.

Sunday evening we heard the results of the CT scan and we were pleased that there was no brain injury, mass, or bleeding. We continued to hope. Yet, we knew that the neurological consult would give us more answers.

Today, we hear the news of his lack of response. My heart just broke. As prepared as I thought I was for this outcome, for the possibility of no recovery, hearing that he was unresponsive as they poked and prodded him, I knew that the outcome wouldn't be what we wanted.

Yesterday, July 4th, was supposed to be a time of celebration and joy. It was supposed to be a day of celebrating our nation's struggle to become independent, to celebrate the birth of our government. Instead, it became a celebration of something else.

It became a celebration of life.

48 hours ago, Papa sat in a nursing home waiting for tomorrow when he would return home. 48 hours ago, things were fine. Until a little respiratory problem became a big problem, that led to a heart attack, that led to oxygen deprivation, that led to severe brain damage.

Last night we were given the prognosis. Last night, a son and two daughters made the choice to give their father his independence. They made the choice to send him home. They gave God the freedom for his will to be done.

And today, we wait. We wait for those beautiful moments when God's divine plan will shine through. We wait for those moments when a child will be reunited with the friends and family that have gone before him. We wait for the moment that his spirit is free from his body and that he goes home.

Over the last few weeks we have felt so guilty about the choices that we have made to move out. To move on with building our life. We have struggled with finding peace about the choices we have made.

Yet today as I write this, and as I have had conversations with Papa's beautiful daughters, I have found that peace. I have also seen God at work in all of our lives in ways that I have never seen Him at work before. And that has been beautiful. The duplex that we are renting fell into our laps. It was perfect. Size wise, price wise, location wise. It took days from the time we looked at it, until the lease was signed. Days. The day we signed the lease was the day that we learned that Papa was coming home from the nursing home. Several days later we told him of our departure from his home. And while there were times of strain and tension on our relationship during the 2 weeks that he was home before we moved out, we all tried to make the best out of the situation. We moved out the day after he went back to the nursing home to undergo 2 weeks of rehab and therapy to regain some of the strength that he had lost.

His two weeks was up tomorrow. He was supposed to go home tomorrow. Now I believe that he will go home tomorrow, just not to the one he owns.

There have been so many moments in my life when I have seen God at work. When I have felt his presence, his comfort, his love. There have been times when I have seen his plan revealed and there are times when it has been harder to find. There have been days where I have questioned my faith, and his presence in my life. Yet yesterday I realized that he knew that today was coming. He knew that our lives were going to be turned upside down and our hearts inside out. He knew. He spent the last two weeks helping us to get ready, of finding our home and setting it up. He spent the last two weeks making sure that we wouldn't have to go back to his house and stay there knowing that Papa would never sit in his recliner or walk down the hall or see his babies again. And for that I will always be thankful.

I can imagine that the next few days and weeks will be hard. I can imagine that as we all move forward with our lives that there will be moments of intense sadness and intense joy as we celebrate his life and as we share our memories of him.

Today I'm thankful that God is in charge. Today I'm thankful that he prompted Papa's daughters to come and that they were here yesterday with their big brother and that he had put the idea in there heads a month ago to come here to see their dad this weekend, even though they decided on a date at the end of the month. I'm thankful that our entire family will be able to lean on him and find comfort and peace in the days and weeks to come. I'm thankful that our family has each other.

Send

I finally took a leap of faith.  One that I should be terrified over, but instead, all I can find is peace and calm.

I finally clicked SEND.

I emailed my advisor with the University of Phoenix today.  I wrote the message over 2 weeks ago, I just haven't had the courage to press send.  I have gone into my email and re-read the message almost daily for 2 weeks.  Today, I finally hit send.

I have been so stressed and so worried about school and the future that I have been making myself crazy.  I have been so worked up about the not knowing that I finally made some serious decisions about what I could do to relieve my stress and hopefully find peace.

I'm not going back to Phoenix.  I feel like I have learned something, but it isn't where I want to end up.  I don't feel like it's the right place for me to finish out my degree.  I don't feel confident with how much information is crammed down my throat at a time that I can make it in the corporate world.  I will always be thankful for the starting point that they have given me.  For the self confidence that I have gained, that I am more capable than I give myself credit for.  They were just what I needed in order to gain the strength, courage and confidence in myself to keep going and finish what I started so many years ago.

I realize that Tech will provide it's own challenges, but I want to go to Tech.  Period.  I have gone back and forth about it in the weeks since I submitted my application.  Even as I write this post I find myself wanting to wonder and question whether or not I am doing the right thing.  I'm so afraid that this is going to come back and bite me in the butt.  Yet, just closing my eyes for a second and taking a deep breath, I realize that it will all work out in the end.  Maybe not the way I have in mind, but it will all work out.  I'm right where God wants me to be.

I don't know if I'm going to get into Tech.  I don't know if I'm going to have to quit a job I love so I can continue to pursue a dream.  I don't know if I'm going to lose a million pounds and be the next Victoria's Secret model.

I do know that I want to finish, but I also know that in less than 2 weeks, I will be a college graduate.  Something that I would have never dreamed possible.  I've made it this far, so the next 3-ish years should be a piece of cake.  I know that my husband and I are both aware of the sacrifices that this choice will require from both of us.  I'm willing to take a bigger leap of faith than I have ever done in order to see this through.

I know that no matter what happens God has big things planned for me.  Things that may or may not include Tech and other plans I have in mind for my future.  The funny thing is, today, I'm ok with that.  But ask me again tomorrow, because I'm pretty sure that tomorrow or next week, or in the next 5 minutes, I'm going to freak out again.  Then again, maybe I'll just have faith.  Faith in the unknown and  in the meantime I'll rest up for the next adventure.

~The quality of a university is measured more by the kind of student it turns out than the kind it takes in. ~Robert J. Kibbee


~Every tomorrow has two handles. We can take hold of it by the handle of anxiety, or by the handle of faith. ~Author Unknown

Today

Instead of the post I was going to write, you are getting this.

Life changes. Thankfully no one was hurt, but the gunman himself.

While I'm by no means trying to justify what this person did, please keep in mind, that no matter what, someone, somewhere loved this person and will mourn the way he ended his life.

Unfortunately this world is full of people who do crazy things. It's also full of good people too.

So today pray for those students, those kids, who are stuck at school without family around to offer them comfort. Pray for the family of the gunman, as their life was forever changed today. Now get off the computer and go hug your wife, husband, kids, pets, and be thankful that they are with you. Life changes in an instant. And then remember that feeling when they piss you off in about 2 minutes.

UPDATE: This article was posted by someone who got to experience the whole nightmare as it unfolded. The Day Campus Stood Still

~Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood. ~Marie Curie

~There is much in the world to make us afraid. There is much more in our faith to make us unafraid. ~Frederick W. Cropp

~He has not learned the lesson of life who does not every day surmount a fear. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Holding on or Letting Go

It’s been well over a year ago that I had decided I wanted to seriously pursue finishing my college education and getting a degree in accounting. A part of me had always wanted to finish, for no other reason than bragging rights, but about 18 months ago, I began to actively pursue my options and trying to find ways to make it work.

Today, I’m less than 3 months away from graduating with my associate’s degree. While that isn’t where I want to stop at, it is definitely a milestone in it’s own right.

As my graduation date has loomed I have been trying to get things in order to start my bachelor’s degree, then my master’s degree, and then take the CPA exam. So the last few weeks I have been looking into my options and doing research.

When I decided to go back to college it was necessary that I maintain a full time job. So instead of the traditional brick and mortar university, I chose a fairly popular online university. While, for the most part, I have enjoyed my time with this particular university, I wanted to ensure that once I completed my bachelor’s degree that I wouldn’t have any issues with finding a job and starting a master’s degree program. So over the last few weeks I have been doing some research into a local university here in town as well as my current college of choice.

Today, I’m not closer to making a choice than I was yesterday. In fact after news of upcoming changes in the company that my husband works for, I’m farther away.

Now I’m faced with two choices. While, I never really wanted to be a CPA, I just wanted the certification so that I had options when it came time for a job after graduation, I’m wondering if I am going to have to let that go.

And that terrifies the hell out of me.

I have wanted that degree for so long, that a part of me has been so focused, and I have tried to maintain a “not an option” attitude when it comes to getting frustrated and fed up. Because trust me, there have been plenty of times when I wanted to just throw in the towel, because it’s been hard and interfered with other parts of my life. Parts that I miss and that I mourn. Yet, I’m so afraid that by letting this one thing go, that I am going to miss out on that dream job, or that I will unconsciously, have given myself permission to fail.

This is one of those times that no matter which route I choose, which school I end up at, there will be equally sucky parts no matter where I go. One school offers convenience of online classes, and the other, more traditional school offers cheaper tuition, which means that I will owe less money when I graduate. One lets me keep my full time job, and the other will require that I not work at all, or that I only work part-time in order to finish my degree in a reasonable amount of time. Otherwise it could take me up to 10.5 years to finish my degree at the traditional university. I would be 41, and still have to go to grad school to take the CPA exam.

I’ve prayed, I’ve researched, I’ve asked opinions of advisors, of state board members, of family, of my facebook groupies, and of family. I get a mixed response, some say don’t wait until I’m 41, or I’ll never finish. Others tell me it shouldn’t matter how long it takes that cheaper is better.

What do I think? I think that letting go is the hardest part. No matter which direction I take, some part of me is going to be hurt, and going to suffer. Either path will change my life. Either path will lead me on a different direction with job hunting after I graduate. Either path could leave me either postponing or completely eliminating the CPA exam from my future.

While the exam is not ultimately where I wanted to end up in my career, it was part of the plan. I find myself trying to listen more to my head than my heart, although at the moment they are both seriously confused. One is preparing for the loss, because no matter which way I go, I will be losing something; the other is trying to prepare me and excite me about the future.

Eventually I’m going to have to make a choice. I’m going to have to take a leap of faith, the question is will I fly because I’ve let go, or will I fall, because I refuse to trust that God has something better in mind?

~ One half of knowing what you want is knowing what you must give up before you get it. ~Sidney Howard

~ He who has faith has... an inward reservoir of courage, hope, confidence, calmness, and assuring trust that all will come out well - even though to the world it may appear to come out most badly. ~B.C. Forbes

~ Faith can move mountains, but don't be surprised if God hands you a shovel. ~Author Unknown

~ Sometimes the path you're on is not as important as the direction you're heading. ~Kevin Smith

~ The greatest dreams are always unrealistic. ~Will Smith

Dogs VS. Humans

Human nature never ceases to amaze me. Never. The older I get the harder it is to not give up all faith in human beings as being even semi-decent.

Several days ago I met someone. He is shedding a unique light on the people in the community where I live, and a unique light on my own life.

But first, a little background info. (Think of this as a commercial after the opening credits.)

I have always been notorious for dragging home every sick and abandoned creature. I have taken home cats, dogs, baby rabbits, even people. As a child, I can recall countless times that I was threatened with bodily harm with saving animals from an uncertain death. Especially when those rescued bunnies were accidently freed from their homes and ran free in my mothers house. It's a miracle that I was ever allowed to have a pet. It's a miracle that my mother didn't kill me, it also makes me understand why some mothers eat their children at birth.

The older that I have gotten, the more practical I have become. I go into the adoption center at Petsmart everytime I'm there, and my heart breaks for each of the dogs in the cages, waiting, hoping, to find their permanent family. I would go in each and every day and take them all home with me, if I could. I just quit picking up strays, it breaks your heart to let them go. I try to feed them and water them, and let them wander on. I often call animal control and try to get them saved from being ran over.

Apparently my husband is just starting this adopting stray animals phase.

We were coming home for the grocery store a few evenings ago, when he saw two dogs. One of which was a female, probably a year old. She was full of energy, and puppiness. You know that phase, doesn't listen, acts like a teenager. Chews on everything. But there was this other guy. Who, to my naked eye, appears to be a full blood, or really close full blood boxer. He was older, you could tell by the gray around his eyes and muzzle. And the minute I saw him through the pickup window, I knew he was in bad shape. I have never, in my entire life, even on animal planet, seen a dog that skinny. Yet, that sweet, and happy. You could see each vertebra in his back, as well as the "spaces" between, where his spinal cord is. You could see each rib, protruding through skin, that it was amazing, it hadn't torn the skin and was poking through. Did you know that dogs have a point on the top of there head? They do. Because you could see the top of his skull. Bad shape is an understatement. So we did, what any "decent" human being would do. We picked them up, and took them home.

I have two dogs at home. Both miniature schnauzers, Prancer, is tiny, and sweet, and he weighs around 20 pounds. Blaze, the female, is not so tiny, and not so sweet. She has an attitude, and a slight weight problem. She weighs about as much as a mack truck, well, ok, maybe not QUITE that much, but about 35 pounds. According to wikipedia a typical male boxer should weigh 65-99 pounds. He might, just might, tip the scales at 25-30 pounds. He has stepped on my barefoot twice with all of his weight, and Blaze weighs more then he does.

We called animal control, because we knew that with two dogs already, we really couldn't keep him.

Animal control said that they would hold him for 3 days in hopes of the owner claiming him. Then, because he has no teeth, is old, and the poor shape he was in, he would be put to sleep, because "no one in their right mind would want to mess with him." I told the person answering the phone that when they got old and had poor teeth, that he needed to be put to sleep too. Called him several names, that I won't repeat here.

So please take good care of your teeth, because apparently when you, as a person, get to be "too" much trouble, you can be put to sleep. Who knew!?!?!

Wait. That's not right. It's OK for people to be old and a burden, but not a dog?What is wrong with this world that there isn't someone out there with a big enough heart, who doesn't mind going a little out of there way, to save another soul.

Yeah, and here is where you are going to tell me that it's a dog, to get over it.

And here is where I'm going to pleasantly tell you where to shove that idea.

He has a heart, a soul, he feels hurt, cold, warmth, love, pain, fear, a good back scratching, the effects of a kind word, the effects of cruelty. Don't you feel those too? So what does that make you? Better than him?

This dog, has yet to bark, growl or do anything, but love us, and shown us both, as well as our other dogs affection. He has done nothing, but asked for some dignaty, and maybe a little decency in return.

Isn't that all we ask as a person? For some kindness, compassion, love. How is he any different?

What is so wrong with people that they can't stop and save someone in need? They sure want someone to come "save" them, when they need it.

So what is so special about this dog?

Absolutely nothing. Yet, at the same time absolutely everything. He knows no stranger, his tail is constantly wagging, and he is always hoping for a scratch on the neck right behind his ears. Because you see, he can't sit down and scratch there like a normal dog, because his hip bones dig into the ground and cause him, what I can only imagine, as intense pain.

Yet, in the few short days that he has been here, he has reminded me that there is more to life than school and work. He has reminded me that while those things are important, there are other things, that are equally, if not more important. Perhaps, it wasn't coincidence that he crossed our paths. Perhaps, he was sent here, at a time, when I was doubting my own capabilities. Perhaps, he is reminding me, of the person that I want to be. The one that doesn't have anything to do with a college education.

Too bad there aren't more people in the world like him. Can you imagine the kind of world we would live in? I can only imagine that it's what heaven will be like.


I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me they are the role model for being alive. ~Gilda Radner

I think we are drawn to dogs because they are the uninhibited creatures we might be if we weren't certain we knew better. They fight for honor at the first challenge, make love with no moral restraint, and they do not for all their marvelous instincts appear to know about death. Being such wonderfully uncomplicated beings, they need us to do their worrying. ~George Bird Evans

I talk to him when I'm lonesome like; and I'm sure he understands. When he looks at me so attentively, and gently licks my hands; then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes, but I never say naught thereat. For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes, but never a friend like that. ~W. Dayton Wedgefarth

My goal in life is to be as good of a person my dog already thinks I am. ~Author Unknown

The more I see of man, the more I like dogs. ~Mme. de Staël

The dog is a gentleman; I hope to go to his heaven, not man's. ~Mark Twain

If a dog will not come to you after having looked you in the face, you should go home and examine your conscience. ~Woodrow Wilson

You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us. ~Robert Louis Stevenson

Life Changing

Something is seriously "off" with me. Twice in the last few months, I have felt compelled to send a message to "friends" on facebook. And I've followed through. Better check me for a fever.

I'm not an outgoing person. I don't like the attention and when all these eyeballs are looking at me, I begin to stutter and stammer and second guess every word that comes out of my mouth. Until I get to know you, then I don't shut up. I just don't do well with people I don't know. And these "friends" I don't really know anymore. One of them, I worked with many moons ago. She had been on my mind when I wasn't on Facebook, so I sent her a message. And we talked for hours one morning. There was alot going on in her life, a lot that she was struggling with. The funny thing is - she helped me more than I could have possibly helped her.

The second message, sent just yesterday, was directed to someone I went to high school with. Which was ?? ago. What? You didn't think I would reveal my true age did you. (Hint look at blog title) I haven't seen her in that long, nor talked to her. So I don't really "know" her anymore. I sent her a message too. I didn't even proofread it for fear I would change my mind.

Lately I have struggled, again, when having a baby. I whined to the doctor about it on Tuesday, I whined to my husband, and my dogs. Guess what?!? I'm..still not having a baby. I've been unhappy, and I have let this problem become larger and more in charge than it should. I have let it rule my happiness. My sanity. While it has every right too, require thought, it shouldn't rule my life.

The doctor suggested that I make up a list of things that I hated about my life. Things that if I ruled the world I would change. So I started naming things - like my weight, my unhappiness, I came up with 5 things. One of which was the child I long for. Did you know that all of those things but one are within my control to do something about? All of them. I can go on a diet, I can exercise, I can manage my time better. All of those are within my control. All it takes is effort on my part. Faith. Faith in me mostly.

She also suggested that I write a letter. A letter to the child I miscarried, and a letter to the child I haven't conceived. A letter that "lets them go". Just like when my grandparents died, I have to let that baby go. I have to grieve. I have to experience the loss and then move on. Move on. It's hard. It's scary. It's something I don't want to give up on.

The high school friend said something about praying "Lord, your will be done" and "Lord, when will". I can so relate to that. When we were first trying to get pregnant it was, if we are meant to have a baby, then let it happen. The more time passed it became when will I get pregnant. When did I lose faith? When I got tired, because I wasn't getting the results I wanted in Abby Time. I forgot about God's plan, about His bigger picture. About being right where He wanted me to be.

Last night I had an epiphany. Brace yourselves. This is big.

I realized that maybe, just maybe, I have dealt with all of this, suffered through it all it, so that for these two people, I could use my pain, to help them deal with theirs. To help them remain faithful. To help them, help me. God has plans for me. Plans so great that I can't even begin to imagine them. Plans that I'm excited to learn about. Plans that may or may not be the things I want for myself.

I had wanted to change their lives, their perspectives, and instead they ended up changing mine.





~The best way to change your life is to change someone else. ~Author unknown

"It is said an Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words: "And this, too, shall pass away.""
~ Abraham Lincoln

The Right Path

A few days ago I made a post regarding becoming a mother. When I made that post I had been talking online to someone who has been helping me deal with several issues in my life. Frankly there are a lot of issues. I work full time, go to school full time and live with a grumpy, irresponsible 76 year old man. So to say that I have my hands full is an understatement.

My husband and I struggled for several years to have a baby. We both love children, and we had both wanted to have a child. Unfortunately Apparently, God has other plans. Today, after being bored at work and spending time on facebook, I was reminded of something.

I am right where God wants me to be.

I'm doing exactly what I need to be doing. The good, and the bad. Do I still want a baby? Absolutely! But today, for the first time in weeks, I have peace about it. I don't sit at work wondering why everyone else can have children and I can't. I'm not wondering what I have "done" to deserve this. Why there are people that are having abortions and whining about an unplanned pregnancy, when I would give my right arm to be in their shoes. Today, I have peace.

I am right where God wants me to be.

It has definitely taken some time to get here, and while I will always want to have a baby, there is something else that God has in store for me. Something that I couldn't, or wouldn't be equipped to do if I had a child.

Yes, I can relate so much to the Thoughts on Becoming a Mother post I made. I can relate to the shots, and the pills. I can relate to the feeling out of control of your own body, the hormones, the mood swings, the paranoia, the feeling like a lab rat. I can relate to wanting a baby and the hurt and disappointment that comes with each negative result. I can also understand why so many couples doing infertility treatments end up in divorce, and even suicide. Those treatments give you a walk in someone else's shoes, someone who deals with severe depression, and obssession.

I am right where God wants me to be.

While this isn't the path that I would have taken, given the choice, it's where I am meant to be. Even though my life is crazy busy, it's where I'm supposed to be. I was supposed to go back to school at 30. I was supposed to get married at 20. I was supposed to lose the baby we lost in 2006.

I am right where God wants me to be.

While this isn't some cleaver and witty post, like my 4 readers are used to, this is something that we all need to be reminded about from time to time. And besides this is my blog and I'll write what I want too. Ahhh, sarcasm, there you are. :)

Sometimes we walk through life and complain about the obstacles that get in the way of our plans. We forget that we are right where we need to be, where we are supposed to be at that exact moment. We forget that by being where we are God is protecting us from something even worse. Think of the people who were late to work because a child dwaddled, or they missed their train, or it was their turn to bring the donuts, or my personal favorite, a guy had bought a new pair of shoes and was breaking them in walking to work, and they rubbed a blister and he stopped to get a band-aid, saved thier lives on September 11th. Or the lady whose phone was ringing when she was trying to leave the house, and she went in to answer it, and it was a wrong number. Those extra few seconds, that they were annoyed by, God had them exactly where they needed to be. Just like me.

I am exactly where God wants me to be.

I have tried, over the last few months, to put more faith into God, and stop trying to question the things I don't understand in my life. Thanks to the insight of some special people in my life, as well as way to much time at work to analyze things, as well as facebook, today I am at peace with what the future holds. Today I feel like I could climb Mt. Everest, or rebuild an engine. I feel better than I have in weeks about a lot of things. Thanks to facebook. Here was my status thanks to an application there "Be joyful always; pray continually; GIVE THANKS IN ALL CIRCUMSTANCES, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18" Bet you wouldn't have thought that facebook would provide such profound insight. But then again, I was right where God needed me to be to get the message.


"He who has faith has... an inward reservoir of courage, hope, confidence, calmness, and assuring trust that all will come out well - even though to the world it may appear to come out most badly." ~B.C. Forbes

"Faith enables persons to be persons because it lets God be God." ~Carter Lindberg

"I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much." ~Mother Teresa

Chances

chance- n - 1. the happening of events without apparent cause; luck 2. an unpredictable event 3. a risk or a gamble 4. a ticket in a lottery 5. an opportunity 6. possibility or probibility

second - adj. - 1. coming after the first 2. another of the same kind; other

Now that you have had your vocabulary lesson for the day. You knew I would get my sarcasm in here somewehere. :)

Chances. First. Second. Last. We have all heard them, we have all used them, and we have all given them. Baseball players have three chances to hit the ball before they strike out. Some parents give three warnings before punishing their child. They are all chances to get it right, to make it right before it's too late.

This morning as I got to work and opened up my internet as MSN loaded, I was reminded of how there aren't always second chances. Sometimes, you only get one chance to get it right.

My husband forces me (read asks me) if I want to watch Deadliest Catch, I pretend to be indifferent, but the entire show is really cool. It's like take the world to work day. Makes me look at crab in a whole new way. Anyway - last season, one of the Captians on one of the regular boats had a serious health scare. He had a blood clot in his lung. This isn't often something that you walk away from. He was told that his lifestyle had contributed to this problem. He was told to change his life - quit smoking - eat better - less stress. He attempted all of this, for about 24 hours. Then decided that he knew better than the doctor's, that he knew the bigger picture and that he would undoubtedly be given another chance. A few days ago, he found out differently as he suffered a major stroke and died. There was no third chance.

My dad had a heart attack in April of last year, which completely changed his life forever. He is retired at 52. Not by choice, but because of the damage that he suffered because of the heart attack. He attempted to change his lifestyle, but like anyone who has ever tried to do that, it is hard. He quit smoking, he had finally started watching what he was eating better. More than just paying attention to sodium. Until sometime around Thanksgiving. He and my mom have been under a lot of stress. They both quit smoking and they had smoked for 30+ years. My father had gotten over the grouchiness and was "normal" again. My mom - yeah, she was still in that grouchy no patience phase. They had been fighting and stressing - and decided to start smoking again, or kill each other. Hmmm...what do you think that the smoking is doing? Makes me wonder what his blood thickness would be reading now...after he has been smoking a few months again. After reading the story on MSN this morning, it got me to thinking - what chance is he on? Is this his second and will there be a third, or is this his last?

Thankfully those aren't questions that I know the answer too. That's between him and God. And while I agree that when it's your time to die, you are going to die, be it by heart attack, car accident, or breaking your big toe and it getting infected and dying from blood poisioning, or demons attacking. (whoa...been watching way to much Charmed.) It's his life, and his choice, and his chance. I do believe that God is like any other parent, he only gives you so many chances to get stuff right, and then he moves on. He already knows what you are going to do anyway.

We face chances all the time, at work, at home, at school, driving, eating (after you have had severe food poisioning that you nearly died from), health. How many chances have I wasted? How many have I screwed up? How many have moved on? How many times was there only one chance? My husband had a severe wreck, that changed the way he drives forever, is he working on his second chance, or his last? No one really knows. The important thing - not to waste them. Especially if it could be your last.

To read the story click here -----> Phil Harris - Deadliest Catch

"Never let the odds keep you from doing what you know in your heart you were meant to do."~ H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

"Progress always involves risks. You can't steal second base and keep your foot on first. "~ Frederick B. Wilcox