What if...?

Lately I've been overcome by fear and anxiety.  The 'what ifs' of living in a ruthless world have been hunting me down and strangling my contentment to the ground.

Love is vulnerable.  I could lose those I love in a heartbeat, in an instant. In fact, the very things I most take for granted (my home, my family, my health) can be snatched away.  Right now.

I've been overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of despair and uncertainty that this world offers as its foundation.

Wait a second, don't I believe in a good God?  Yes.  Doesn't He turn all things good?  Yes.  He doesn't allow suffering in our lives does He?  Sometimes.  That doesn't make sense.

So as a Christian, once I believe in God, everything will be ok right?

But He never promised it would be easy, or perfect, or well- that my life and journey would in any way go as I planned.  At all.

I have so little control of our circumstances.

But this, THIS truth is like gold to me.  Found in Joshua 1:9.  Do you know what is better than guaranteed perfect outcomes?  Perfect wealth and health?  Better than a guarantee of having no sickness, no disaster, no loss, no death, no (insert hardship here):____________?  Do you know what truth is better than anything this broken world has to offer?

I will tell you.
In a poem.

We'll call it "Ever felt...?"
_________________
In the alley,
far from home,
lost and hurting
in a place unknown.

Broken, beaten
by death's blows,
lonely, hidden
where no one knows?

Heart is aching and
throbbing with fear,
anxious, betrayed
no one is near.

Abandoned, forgotten,
stolen away,
ravaged and abused,
left in dismay?

Oh hollowed out woman
Oh child left in the dark,
Oh spent, wearied wounded
Oh broken lonely heart.

In all the dark places
Where wind, rain & woe
rattle the windows
and flatten you low.

In all the deep valleys
while swallowed by pain
when bruised and beaten
by life's ruthless terrain.

One promise alone
will be the flickering light,
will shoulder the weight
of this endless cruel night.

Wherever you are,
in the places unseen
whatever has happened
how ruthless and mean.

(here it is!)

My God, He is with you.
You are never alone.
His love and His comfort
Is your new home.

When all is uncertain
and the very ground gives way
Cling to Jesus, your only savior
in every breath, of every day.

No hurt is too heavy,
No fear is too strong
His arms, they will surround you
All the night long.

Be comforted and healed
Though life's hardness remains
When everyone else leave's you
He will stay.
____________

There you have it.
I was wandering around (internally) lost and confused again because I was looking at my circumstances.  Life is going to be hard.  I will experience disease, loss, death, and will leave this life covered in mud and mess.

But my gracious God came into the mud with me and will stay with me the whole way.

All praise is due Him.

Back to Work

One whole year (thank God for Canada) at home and now IT is upon me.

Back to work.

I remember being very excited about this with Silas.  I remember feeling thrilled to use my nursing skills, relieved that I could have a few days out of the house, and I remember that at first it was hard- but then it was no problem.

This time?

I mainly feel overwhelmed.  It's been a 4 month frustrating, praying, discerning, waiting process of trying to find a part-time situation that would work for the kids and us.  I finally found two great part time jobs, but that means orientating to two new jobs.  At the same time.  Over Christmas.

Did I mention I haven't weaned Toby yet? Gulp.

I have had a few emotional ups and downs over these past few days trying to cope with all the changes ahead.  I've Worried.  I've tried not to worry.  I've been anxious.  I've tried not to be anxious.  I've stayed up late being harried and frantic: trying to organize myself without giving myself an ulcer.

I remind myself:
The kids will be fine.
I will be fine.
I will feel like an idiot for awhile but then I will learn the ropes again.
I will feel guilty at times when something's going on with the boys and I can't be there.
And every night, I'm sure, I will speed home (within legal limits) and get excited about the thought of seeing 4 little limbs running over themselves to greet me at the door.

It's hard, already, being a working Mom.  Half of me feels silly for not advancing in my career more.  Half of me feels guilty for leaving the kids at all.  I guess I should always shoot for 50% contentment?!

I was told that you cannot simultaneously feel fear and gratitude at the same time.  And that frantically thinking about something doesn't change it.  It will be what it will be.  I will have to accept whatever the new normal is.  So to counter the rising emotional wave of agony and anxiety rising up in me, I will hold tight to the many things I have to be thankful for:

• Awesome friends and family willing and able to take care of the boys so we have to pay minimal childcare costs. 
• An incredibly involved and supportive husband who is more than capable and able to watch the kids while I'm away
• Jobs to return to- so that I can help pay for our living costs
• A new opportunity to teach students at BCIT- so excited.
• Fun, already planned Christmas advent activities to distract the kids, entertain the caretakers, and get us all focused on what really matters instead of my absence
• Healthy boys
• An incredible career, which I love, to return to.

This weekend Jason is away.  But it's also my last weekend with the kids before work starts.  So rather than dread his absence, I'm gonna choose to wring out every drop of the weekend.  I'm gonna savor all the moments, cherish all the snuggles, and live in all the moments with them and not worry about what's over the next hill.

Or at least, I'll try.

Advent and the Christmas Countdown

More time together.  More anticipation.  

More planning.  Less spending.  

I've been inspired by a lot of Advent Conspiracy videos and a lot of the home-made, crafting ideas found on pinterest - especially this and this.  How can we return Christmas to it's true meaning, it's true beauty?

Silas is almost 3 and I am so excited to start making some Christmas traditions happen.  I've done lots of reading and have started planning.  We want to teach him the true 'magic' of Christmas:

giving, loving, family, thankfulness, worship, joy, peace, Christ.

Here's the plan:

• Each morning, the 'wise men' on camels will move a little bit from one corner of the house to the nativity scene (as they came from far away).  First thing in the morning he will get to see where they are and we will also share a bit about the Christmas story. 
• Each afternoon Silas will open a box for advent (big or small) with the name of the activity we are going to do that day, with a little present (that most likely will contribute to that activity in some way), and an ornament to hang on the tree (ones we already own)
• Each evening we will do an awesome, family-fun activity that is in the spirit of true Christmas
• Each bedtime Silas will get to un-wrap one of 25 Christmas books (most used, most that we already own, some from the library, all wrapped up fancy-like) and we'll read them together

So excited.

First step:

Make advent boxes. I have collected 15 boxes so far which I will wrap up or paint (haven't decided) and have started searching for cheap Christmas tins as well.  I'll affix numbers on them and decide where to put them.  Stay tuned for our mega-exciting, anticipation building, fun-filled 25 day activity list.  Post to come...

Any activities we must have on the list?  What are some of your favourite Christmas activities?

Miracle

Rewind a month ago.  There was something terribly wrong in my family.  Silas and I were not getting along at all.  I found myself getting so angry and impatient with him all the time.

I was often disciplining out of anger and felt so easily frustrated.  I was often bitter and mean.

Simultaneously, Silas was not only testing boundaries with me constantly, but it was almost like he disdained me.  He was disrespectful, defiant, and rude.  We were in Ontario visiting family and I found myself often crying about our relationship.  I told Jason that I thought I was losing Silas.  Maybe that sounds extreme, but a real fear was growing inside of me, "What am I doing wrong?  Where will this child end up if this is our relationship?  What foundations is my attitude laying for our future?" I know he's 2 but there was some serious walls that I felt like we had between us.  I even found myself saying to Jason that I had a hard time even liking Silas at all.

It was bad.

Then, Silas started over and over saying "I don't like Mommy."  This broke my heart.  He's 2 but he certainly understands what that means.  I really began crying out to God.  Oh, I had prayed for us but it was more like a "Help God, what do I do?  Give me wisdom!"  sort of prayer.

Then a miracle happened.

One day coming back from a family outing, Silas fell asleep in Oma and Opa's van just before coming home. I decided to carry him into the house but halfway inside Silas seemed really cranky so I just sat in the porch swing with him.  

I was just swinging, and holding him, and cuddling him and was amazed to see that he fell asleep.  And a wave of emotion poured through me.  I began crying over our relationship and all it's fractures.  Welling up inside of me was an overwhelming urge that in this special moment, I needed to pray for him, OVER him, and pray for us.

So I sat there.  I rocked him for over an hour and wept over him, prayed out loud for him, sang to him, and spoke scripture to him.  I felt like I needed to reassure Silas of my love for him and my acceptance of him.  I cried out to God and just asked that He break down whatever spiritual divide or emotional divide was between Silas and I.  I prayed for more patience, for more affection, for more graciousness with Silas.  I prayed that God would restore Silas to me.  And I prayed that God would loose in me an ability to speak of God's love to him.

The time holding Silas was so sweet and precious.  Rarely could I get Silas to let me hug him for more than 5 seconds before this time.

And you know, God answered my prayers.  Immediately, unbelievably, and in such a wonderfully profound way- God answered.  Ever since that time it's like the walls have fallen down.  I find myself understanding Silas better, being more able to reassure and encourage him, and more able to discipline him in a loving way. I find him responding to me, and there is an easy flow of affection between us- more than ever before.  Silas just yesterday was saying "I love you Mommy, you're special," and I am so thankful.  So grateful for this incredible answer to prayer.  

Thank God for his grace in this journey of parenthood.

Renos Continued

9 weeks and counting.  

No, I'm not pregnant.  That's how long it's been since I've had a sink, a dishwasher, cooking supplies, a family room, and a kitchen.  Unexpected kitchen leaks are not my cup of tea (or so I've found out).  

I think the 'idea' of making one's house better is great when you can prepare for it, plan it, do it in bite sized bits, and have some control over it.  However, due to insurance taking forever with their paperwork and other such delays, we are still yet without a kitchen [awaiting counters, plumbing, and we need to paint the lower cabinets].  

I've realized that my environment in chaos is the main part of this whole thing that is stressful.  I don't mind people in and out (it breaks up the day).  

I don't mind the cacophony of noises (what's more noise when I have two boys?)  I don't even mind, in some ways, the uncertainty of when the final end will be.  What I DO mind, and what has caused me the most angst, tears, and internal restlessness is the invasion of all that was in those two rooms into the rest of my home.

What do I mean? 

canning jars in my dresser drawers

toy bins in my fire place

glasses and plates on the landing halfway up my stairs

cookbooks in my bedside table

coffee table in our bedroom

and large intrusive pieces of furniture taking up desperately needed floor space for two active boys

Yuck.  Hurl.  I am a hater of clutter and chaos.

However, today, OH JOY today I said "enough is enough."  The room beside our kitchen that is essentially our family room/play room had become a storage room of uninstalled cabinets, our dishwasher and other such things.  Well, it was largely cleared out last night and so began a domino effect of greater and greater happiness.

I hadn't intended on doing it but as I started putting things back into the kitchen/family room it created such incredible pleasure that I kept going... I assembled ikea lamps, I put up newly hemmed curtains, I uncovered couches, rearranged toys and before I knew it I was purging and organizing and...

Dang.  It felt good.

For the remainder of the day, my finally toy-less living room (which had become our living space these last months) and my almost finished kitchen/family room kept capturing my eye.  I was floating around the house.  "Look how great those curtains look?!  Look how great that new rug looks in our living room!  Look!"

I know, I know.  It's just a room, with things in their intended places.  What's the big deal right?  Well, the joy it brought me just to see some chaos lifted made it pretty clear that my environment affects me.  It almost made me understand why people do renovations for fun.  

Almost.  

Not quite.

Let's just say, I'll be VERY appreciative of the final product. 

(Hopefully in 1 more week, please God, PLEASE)

"I spilled the blueberries"

"I spilled the blueberries."  This phrase has come to haunt me over the past week.  

The scene: 

I had attempted to grocery shop with two little boys.  It was mostly going well although it was requiring an enormous amount of energy to keep them entertained, behaved, and prevent them from de-shelving everything (while simultaneously navigating a grocery store that I hate).

However, mid-shop I needed to take Silas to the potty.  Can someone please tell me how one is supposed to hold a wiggly, acrobatic 7 month old who can reach further than seems humanly possible and is keen on sucking on every surface WHILE stripping a toddler of their clothes, lifting them onto the potty and then doing that whole thing again in reverse?

How?
My options were 1. leave Toby in the grocery cart outside of the bathroom (Obviously this would be neglectful and dangerous so that wasn't going to work) 2. take the cart into the bathroom (they wouldn't let me nor would it fit) 3. put Toby on the floor in the bathroom stall (gross, gross, gross) or 4. grunt, groan, complain and exclaim as I tried to both hold Toby and help Silas.

Anyways.  

The shop continued with Silas getting restless and aggressive with Toby so he ended up walking at his toddler -5km/hr pace making me ever so frustrated.  By the time I had paid and finally loaded the groceries in bags (I would almost pay to have someone do this for me) I was very ready to be done shopping.

My exhaustion was rising, I had to pee, and both boys needed to get home to be fed and sleep so the scene was worsening by the second.  Just at the exit I realized I couldn't find my keys.  We were in-between doorways and I was in the home stretch and I was rooting through my purse to no avail.

No keys to be seen.  Frustration rising.  Well, I gave Silas the box of blueberries to hold, instructing him to hold onto them very carefully.  I gave him the berries partially to placate him and partially to motivate him to behave. I told him he could have some once we got to the car.  I'm on the floor at this point, almost to the desperate point of dumping my purse out when:

Crash.

All I see are blueberries around me.  Silas is wailing and I just snapped.  I didn't yell and scream, but I was very angry.  I gave Silas a hard time and made him feel bad about him dropping the blueberries.  "Look what you've done.  Now you won't get any blueberries.  I told you to hold them carefully now look what's happened... etc" But I went too far.  Much too far.

Oh, I can justify my actions: "I was exhausted, I was tired, I was pushed to the limit of what I am capable of doing as a person..." But I made him feel ashamed for what was probably an accident.  

Over a week later and Silas still brings this up every time I discipline him.  He'll be in trouble for something and I'll be trying to discipline him, he'll be upset, and then he'll just cry and say,"I dropped the blueberries."

Uh oh.

Can someone please tell me how to raise a rambunctious, boundary-pushing, strong willed, emotional, smart, and incredibly literate boy? I am pushed and pulled and worn thin and rung out each and every day with this boy.  He depletes most of my emotional energy.  One minute he is creative, imaginative, playful, fun, energetic, charming and charismatic making me laugh and wonder at this gift of life.  The next minute (literally the next minute) he is obstinate, deaf to instruction, rude, aggressive, obnoxious, loud, aggressive, controlling and temperamental.  

How am I supposed to be a firm but loving Mother?  How am I supposed to be kind and gracious, compassionate and forgiving while also needing to be firm and provide discipline?  How am I supposed to weather this toddler season without going literally insane?

I don't want to repeat the blueberry incident but I am stretched so often in my abilities to care for this 2 year old, I'm afraid these scenes happen too often. I am often out of wisdom and creative ideas in how to motivate, instruct and inspire obedience.  Oh, by the way I have a baby in the background who may or may not be crying, falling off of furniture and barfing into clean laundry baskets.  Oh, by the way, it hasn't stopped raining for a month. Oh, by the way, I get easily angered, I am trying to maintain a perfectly clean home, I am desperate for control, I try to do this in my own strength, I am incredibly hard on myself, I'm very selfish, I am a horrible sinner and I rarely get a solid 6 hours of sleep a night.  

Okay God.  I need your help.  No, I really really really mean it this time.  

River

I didn't intend to write a post today but re-reading old journals of mine made me want to write.  Some of the prayers I uttered not long ago are still upon my lips.  

"Change me, renew me, revive me, refine me, use me, make me more like Jesus..."  I have started to realize that this journey of motherhood is not a detour off the road  to where I'm going, it is not an accidental path.  It is the very road on which God placed me to answer all my prayers.  

He intended me to be a Mother so that I could learn the very lessons I have been longing to learn.  The question is, now that my prayer is being answered, am I still willing to surrender? Am I willing to do the work?  Be worked upon?  I am finding myself increasingly helpless and dependent.  

Hands up, head down, knees bent I am a toddler in need of discipline and care as I learn to raise my children.  The demands of motherhood are like a river.  I am a stone.  

The river's current flows unrelenting, over and around me, smashing all my rough edges.  I am worn down by it, smoothed over, worked on and banged up by the constant flow.  It never ends.  Its weight and worth are heavy.  I cannot bend, I must break down.  I must submit to it because I am already wholly submersed.  

The old me is being rubbed away so that I can be smooth in His hands.  I want this but I don't.  I want to be more gracious, more compassionate and loving, more patient, more self controlled but the change is painful and slow.  

All the things I want for my heart come by submitting.  I need to stop seeing the process as the enemy.  It's an answer to prayer.  The pain, the inconveniences, the anxieties, the difficulties... scraped knees, bleeding lips, puke on clean laundry, irregular schedules, tantrums, and all that each day brings is God's provision for the very change I long for.  "Being confident of this that He who began a good work in you will carry it out to completion until the day of Christ Jesus."  Philippians 1:6 (my life verse).  Oh that I would embrace the opportunities for growth and change. 

Toby is awake an hour before he 'should' be.  End of blog post.  The river rages another day.  

The Thorn of My Flesh

My flesh is failing.  Fragile.  A jar of clay.  It is decaying and will one day be swept away as dust.  Life is short. Health and wholeness are lofty dreams.  My body is a near constant reminder to me that I cannot do this life alone.
I could list all the physical ailments and troubles I have suffered over these last 5 or more years.  It is long.

In fact, I have a new one to add which has caused me a bucket of grief in the last 24 hours.  I could look for pity and sympathy; Lord knows I've done enough of that.  I've been learning head knowledge about finding joy and peace, contentment in the Lord.

But it's just starting to really hit me how bitter and angry I've become.

My knee jerk response when anything difficult, out of my control, or aside from my plans assails me is to be mad, complain, and whine. (Sounds like a certain 2 year old I know).  What good has this response achieved for me?

Every day I find justifiable reasons to be upset at the world and my life:  "My body, my kids, my this, my that."  There are always reasons to be discontent.

 No one is discontent for no reason.

My health is the top of my list.  "Why is there always something?  Why am I never healthy?  Why me?  Why now?  When will I find physical relief from sufferings?"

However, I realized today that I cannot wait until my health is whole to have joy.  I can't.  Because if I wait, I may never have joy.  I may never have contentment.  My body will only continue to fail. I may never truly get to see God's strength and sufficiency in my weakness if I live this way.  

Sigh.  But whyyyyyyy?  Why do we have to learn through suffering and hardship?  Interestingly, I'm learning that 'thorns in our flesh' (or in my case, the thorn OF my flesh), has taught me so much.  Who would I be without these sufferings?  Arrogant, haughty, not empathetic, compassion-less, insensitive and the list continues.

Perseverance through my personal sufferings may be the best teaching tool.  Maybe God allows these thorns because He knows the me I would become without them.  Maybe He allows my flesh to weaken me, daily, so that I will actually and finally learn how to be content in all circumstances: because I will see God's power made perfect in my weaknesses.  Maybe it's through these trials that I will actually slow down, stop, and finally see who He really is to me: my Comfort, my Strength, my Refuge, my Peace...

I was out walking with Silas and heard myself say to him: "yeah, it's raining again. But that's okay- because the plants need both sun AND rain to grow."   Did I just say that?  It hit me like a ton of bricks.  "Shannon, rain is good for you!  It's necessary!  It's part of growth.  You could not grow without rain.  You cannot grow without trials."

So here I am.  A bag of ailments.  Will I not find joy already?  Will I not be content?  Every circumstance, all things will be used for GOOD in my life and character if I'd just lean on and look to God.  

My Bucket List

Bucket lists. There are a lot of people posting them these days.  I'm not above them.  In fact, I have a few of my own.  I recognize the pleasure of making a list of things and actually ticking them off to say: "I've seen, I've done, I've conquered."

There's the usual things on mine like: "travel to Asia, learn a second language fluently, write and publish a book, go trekking, eat chocolate every day for a year," etc. But lately I'm realizing that I have a better bucket list.  Okay, maybe not better.  Perhaps more overambitious, more ambiguous, perhaps more somber, but a bucket list nonetheless.

Every day as I wake up I have two little lives that reflect the person that I am.  They reveal my character with all its true flaws.  The longer I live the less naive I am about my faults.  There is no easy escape, I cannot fight these behavioral habits alone.   They require time, attention and divine intervention. I am literally powerless to change some of these weaknesses on my own.

But oh, wouldn't it be wonderful if these areas I struggle with could be changed?  I pull at them from the surface by trying harder, doing better, making new years' resolutions.  But this is like ripping off the leaves of a weed without truly uprooting them.  They come back.  Again.

I need God's Spirit to do work in my heart, daily.  Maybe, just maybe, by the end of this life my rough edges will be smoother, more weeds will be uprooted, and Christ will be more apparent in my thoughts, words, and behaviors.  That's the goal isn't it?  Is a better me, possible?

I'm a bit tired of hiding all my faults behind a veneer of perfection or superficiality so here goes:  

My bucket list of character traits I'd rather do without, and ones I want to have:

1. Be a more contented, joyful person. What if I were content for a change?  As my default? In whatever my circumstance?  Wow.  Imagine.

2. I want to stop seeing the negative in every situation, all the time.  I wear negative lenses through which I seem to view all things.  I am kind of tired of my whining voice that constantly relays every bad thing that happens every day to every listener.  I'm a complaining, moaning, grumbling person by nature.  Could I not just automatically see the positive?

3. Have a posture of thankfulness and gratitude that flows into a spirit of generosity.  Aka: less materialism, less envy, and more giving.  Rid myself of this attitude of entitlement, be more humble and give even at a cost to myself. [Is that like 6 things?]

4. I want to learn patience in affliction.  [Okay, patience in general.  Anyone who sits in front of a microwave cursing the seconds has serious issues with this- aka me].

5. See others' needs as more important than my own.  I'm. So. Selfish.

6. Be less controlling, less of a perfectionist.  [Good luck with this weed God- it goes deep!]

7. Learn how to respond thoughtfully versus react out of emotions.  Oh, never mind, I've accomplished that one.  [Kidding].

8.  I want to be okay with discomfort and abandon this notion that God and His whole world exists to make me feel comfortable. 

Okay.  So this list is not exhaustive.  The more thoughts I think and days I live the more I realize just how innately sinful I am.  I hardly believe for a second I will ever be able to look at this list and simply cross these off, "Done! Prize please!"  I also don't think that God will accept me more or somehow I will be more worthy of Him if I achieve these character attributes.  However, I do dream and hope for a day that my character will be more like Christ.  I cannot wait until heaven when, in seeing Him face to face, I will be made more like Him.  Finally.  I will rest from my flaws which become ever more frustrating, limiting, and burdensome.

A Choice

*I could spend pages writing about how low and despairing I am.  How bad my sleep is, how terrible this lot that has been given to me.  

I could weep onto this page with descriptive words of what terrible fatigue feels like and blog about how endlessly bad I've gotten it.  I could appeal for justice, I could beg for your prayers, your pity.  

But the truth is this:  I have endless, eternal reasons to have hope. I have great and wonderful reasons to praise God.  I have a Savior who endured suffering to the point of death, so that I could receive new life.  He is more than enough to carry me through the deepest, darkest, scariest valley that I could encounter in this life.  

His comfort is my shelter,  hoping in Him is not only all I've got, but it's all I need.  I am weary, I am broken, I'm run-down, I am at the lowest place but I will choose, right now, to life up His praises.  

I will fight this sorrow, this despair with praise.  Why?  Because God is good.  Because He is enough.  Because God loves me and will not abandon me.  Because God will rescue me.  If not from my circumstances, He will rescue me from the pit of despair and fear.  To You, O Lord, be the glory forever and ever.*

With no reason to hope and fear rising within

Unable to face this suffering once again

At the end of myself, the end of my rope

I will choose once again in my Jesus to hope

That He will soon restore me

Bring new life from despair

That He will yet heal me

And comfort my fears

I offer my sorrow

And I take up your praise

I’ll choose joy in this valley

Your name high I will raise

For Your promises are faithful

Your love, it is sure,

Your presence is with me

Your mercy endures

I will not fear the darkness

Another night filled with strife

I will dwell in your goodness

You are the author of my life

Your ways, they are higher

Your plans, they are great

I do not doubt you will rescue

I will be patient and wait

For you do not abandon

Those that you love

You bring rest to the weary

And help the lowly rise up

Oh dear potter, I trust you

My brokenness, please mend

Be glorified in my suffering

This trial to you, I rend.

Winter Rose

I am not an avid gardener, but I kind of want to be.  There are so many life lessons that can be learned from gardening.  I took a trip to the nursery in late fall and hoped to fix up my front gardens with some things that would grow over this wet and dreary time of year.  Low and behold, without much attention, my beautiful winter roses have bloomed.
'Did she say bloomed?' oh yes I did.  My roses just started blooming this past week.  This brings me much hope.

The other day as I was spending time reflecting on some of the difficulties over this past year, my trials and sufferings, I looked out my window to see these flowers budding and felt so hopeful.

I want to be a winter rose.  Growing and blooming despite hard soil, wind, rain, snow (the rose bush had a foot of snow covering it before the flowers bloomed a few days later). I look around and in this time of year and weather, nothing else seems to be blooming.  That's the type of character I want to have.  That's the type of person I want to be.
I want to bloom in the difficult seasons.  I want the endurance, the perseverance and faith to wait for the fruit and the beauty, through the darkest times of my life.

Waiting

Waiting.  Note to readers: brutal honesty ahead, beware.
Silas is 10 months.  For 10 months now I have endured every form of sleeplessness.  

Not getting to sleep, waking needlessly, not being able to get back to sleep once awakened.  I have been brave in some moments, mostly I have been impatient and frustrated.  I rely on medications to sleep, of which I am desperate to be released from.  I am waiting.  

Waiting for 'the rescue that is sure to come' but will that rescue be in the way that I hope?  Will rescue from the LORD mean deliverance from sleeplessness?  Will it be deliverance from fear?  Will it be strength to endure?  I am still waiting.  


Most often, I am afraid when I should not be, and worried when I know it bears no fruit.  How can I have the big family I always dreamed of if, with each child, I must endure the hell of sleeplessness of my own body's doing?  Again I ask the same questions 'how long, O Lord,' and 'why?'  


I take some comfort in others' sufferings.  Of course, not that they suffer, but that I am not alone.  And that in fact, I am very very blessed even with the limited sufferings I must face.  I've been reading a lot of war-time novels and I am overwhelmed.  Yes, with the loss of lives.  Yes, with the brutality.  But more often overwhelmed by the everyday, practical aspects of what people endured.  Did they sleep while bombs were overhead?  I'm reading about the siege of Sarajevo in the Bosnian war- 4 years?  4 YEARS people were trapped in this city, surrounded by ware and snipers, family members being shot daily.  Stuck in the city.  They must have asked 'how long' and 'why' too.  How did they endure?  HOW?  


So yes, my sleeplessness is a pathetic excuse for doubt or fear or worry.  I have so much.  This one verse I read is sticking to me, and 'sticking-it-to-me' in that I realize how poorly I am executing it:
Psalm 27:13 -14 "Yet I am confident that I WILL see the LORD's goodness while I am here in the land of the living.  Wait patiently for the LORD, be brave and courageous.  yes, wait patiently for the LORD."


hmm.  DO I have continued hope in the goodness of the Lord?  Am I waiting patiently for HIM and only Him (not just healing?)  Am I being patient in how I endure this trial?  Am I brave or courageous?  The dictionary says of patience: bearing provocation, annoyance, misfortune, delay, hardship,pain, etc., with fortitude and calm and without complaint,anger, or the like.


SO many others are waiting too.  I'm not alone in this.  Waiting- will their child survive this illness, will they ever get married, will they have the children they want to have, will they ever find their purpose, will they...  


Waiting is so hard.  But maybe, in the words of Brooke Fraser's song 


"When I can't feel You [God], I have learned to reach out just the same
When I can't hear You [God], I know You still hear every word I pray
And i want You more than i want to live another day
And as I wait for you maybe I'm made more faithful"

a Smattering of Thoughts

I realize I haven't posted anything other than photos of my 'do'ings lately.  
Ever have so many scattered thoughts and insights about life and yourself, that you don't know where to start?
That's where I'm at.  


I guess I'm still learning something.  Without being redundant and depressing, God is still teaching me about suffering.  I'd like to be brave and state that every moment I'm faithfully fixing my eyes on the future: a heaven free of tears and difficulties.  However, that'd be a lie.  The day in, day out of being just plain tired [of being tired] is not glamorous.  In fact, it sucks.


But I still believe that God is working good even in the bad.  That no matter how difficult this season is, He can still redeem this time, for His glory.  


I have to admit though, suffering through continued insomnia is dreadful.  
Enough said.


I'll lose myself in posting pictures instead.  [Posting pictures is much more fun than cleaning my very dirty house as I should be, while Silas sleeps].  

fort langley cranberry festival (the 3 above and this one below)

who likes socks anyways?

What being a parent really is: prayers, a bit of anxiety, escorting poop around town

So here's the latest about what's going on with Silas' poop saga.  (If squeamish, skip ahead to last few lines of post).  I figure this would have been an extensive facebook post so I thought I'd explain the whole situation here.

About 6/7 weeks ago Silas went from 1 poop a day to about 6/7.  This was a bit odd, and well, not good. However, I had just started a new medication so we thought it might be the meds.  After a week of that, went to my GP for his 4 month checkup and they said he wasn't growing all that well and that maybe I should stop the meds.  Stopped them.  After a about 2 weeks, no change.  Went back to the doctor, this time to a local clinic, and he gave me some containers to collect a stool sample.  (Was a bit of a disaster but we managed, eventually to get some...) Ended up having to escort the poop to surrey, 40 min drive, to drop it off at the right lab (?)  We awaited test results, didn't hear anything forever.  At this point things had seemed to turn around for Silas in that he started to gain a bit better, was eating better, I was less concerned.  He was pooping 1-4 times a day, still mucousy and 'off' but we were thinking it was getting better.

Test results came back saying it wasn't bacterial, not viral, but there WAS mucous in the stool (yup, could tell), By this point we had asked for a pediatrician appointment from my GP (not until August could I get in?) and this idea was confirmed by our local medical clinic doctor who said that mucous in the stool, without any other problems (bacteria etc) was very strange indeed and we should see a specialist.  I was choosing not to look anything up about it and give it to God or else I'd worry a lot (what IS going ON?)  A few days later the clinic called us back and said, actually, come back in, there WAS a bacteria that showed up on the lab test. Took 10 days to grow the bacteria, and it's so rare, that they don't usually expect it to came back positive.   I posted about that yesterday, bacteria known as Yersinia.  Strange indeed.  You get it from food-borne/food-poisoning or animals (???)  Clinic doc said that the only way to treat it was with an antibiotic that is not usually recommended for small babes like him- only one kind he could take.  So yesterday, he left it up to us.  We were on the fence and thinking, since it should just 'fix itself' that we'd keep watching him and let it go for awhile longer without treatment.

But then there was today.

Had two more huge, mucousy stools this am and had blood in his diaper today. Ugh.  Trying not to panic...called my family doctor, back we went to my GP.  She called a pediatrician on call and they both together said, yes, do what the other clinic doctor said, and treat it.  It's been going on too long and he's still not really growing well at all (only 2 ounces per week, if that).

So that's what we're doing.  Going to try the antibiotics and hope that the antibiotics don't cause diarrhea and/or other ailments.

Pray he gets better!!!

Sigh.  Parenting.  He's teething and miserable, or happy and having bloody poop.  Good thing I had nothing in particular planned today!  Gave myself lots to worry about and a trip to the doctor to fill the time!

For His Glory

It's all for God's glory.  This knowledge moves me to repentance.  I was made for His glory alone, I was saved and redeemed for His glory, I am broken and restored for His glory, it is all for Him.  All of it.  Any ounce, any drop of good that is wrung from these times, is His to claim.   I am reminded how short life is.   'Like grass,' we are.  Whatever my plight, the days of my life will assuredly pass quickly.  

I have been chosen to know God, to believe in Him, and to understand that He alone is God.  There is no other.  (taken from Isaiah 43:10).  To Him be the glory for my salvation, both ultimately and in this circumstance.  He says in Isaiah "I have refined you, but not as silver is refined.  Rather, I have refined you in the furnace of suffering.  I will rescue you for My sake- yes, for My own sake!  I will not let My reputation be tarnished, and I will not share My glory with idols."

Wow.  I know He loves me with the fiery love of a Father, who knows my name and has engraved it on His palm, yet He will rescue me not for me.  (Pay attention, soul, this life is not about you!)  Yes my God is a compassionate God, one who knows my weaknesses, one who has not only walked on this earth, but tamed it.  However, He will save me, ultimately, not to make it easier for me, not simply to save me from my affliction, but for His glory.  For His names' sake.

It's His story.  

The rivers are deep

I am clinging to Isaiah 43 today, until my fingers rub raw.  I cannot make it through this day alone and I am thankful for God's Word that met me this morning with the words "When you go through deep waters, I will be with you.  When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown."  Rivers (plural).

I imagine myself right now slipping along on the rocks.  The river is getting higher and faster, I am at an intersection of large waterways, the shore further oft.  I panic a little as the water rises over my nose and I have to have my head back to breathe.  I imagine that only my eyes and nose are above the water level and all I can do is look up and see the sky.  I cannot see forward or backward, I cannot tell if the river is going to get deeper or more shallow.  But He says when the water is DEEP and therefore dark, He will be with me. He says that I will not drown because He is my savior, my rescuer, my help.

So I take a deep breath, and rest my head back, with my hands held up, ready for rescue, I will await in faith.  I don't know what to do anymore.  I have no wisdom.  Doctors aren't helpful.  They say my thyroid is actually getting better, yet my sleep is not better.  I have maxed out on drugs and I don't want to go that route anymore, so I don't know what to do.  But I DO know that I have but one savior.  He alone will get the glory at my rescue.  He alone.

He says I am precious to Him, I am honored, and He loves me.  When the victory's still on it's way, as the battle wages around me, the flames get higher and hotter, I will wait on Christ.  Praise Jesus that one day I will be with Him and one day there will be no more suffering.  I will be forever rescued.

Quotes for the day

Three coincidentally/supernaturally colliding quotes that have spoke to me in the last 24 hours

1. Betty Spackman (artist, incredible speaker): "Because He (the gardener, aka God), loves us, and those who will benefit from what we WILL have to offer, He keeps returning to us, to prune us"
I heard this at an event at my Church last night about the creative arts or fruit God will bring out of us, if we wait upon Him to develop our characters.

2. Beth Moore (speaker, writer, Bible study writer - of which I am now doing) "Satan had a sieve.  Christ had a purpose, the two collided.  Satan got used.  Peter got sifted.  For reasons only our wise, trustworthy God knows, the most effective and long lasting way He could get the Simon out of Peter was a sifting by Satan.  He was right.  You see, the One who called us is faithful, and He will do whatever it takes to sanctify us to fulfill our callings."

3.  Author unknown, poem about the butterfly.  Essentially, a man saw a butterfly struggling to get out of its cocoon so he grabbed some scissors and cut it so the butterfly could get out.  But, that ended up preventing the butterfly from developing wings, so he crawled the rest of his life.  "What the man, in kindness and haste, did not understand was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required to get through the tiny opening were God's ways of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved freedom.  Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our life.  If God allowed us to go through life without obstacles it would cripple us.  We would not be as strong as we could have been.  And we would never fly."

Noticing a theme anyone?

Injection Free!

I was reviewing old journal entries today from early in pregnancy and I find it so amazing. I was so anxious and worried, afraid of how my diagnosis would affect my pregnancy. I fought it for awhile, argued with doctors, and just didn't want to have to endure 9 months + 6 weeks of daily needle injections. The medication for the injections is expensive, it's obviously painful, and how would I ever know if I could have a healthy pregnancy without them? Should I gamble and not take the injections since I didn't believe I even had this condition to begin with? Or should I take these doctors' opinions as a protection from God- to protect the baby and me from a disastrous outcome?

And here I am. Now all of that is hindsight. It's in the past. It's finished.

Praise God the giver and sustainer of life! He created Silas in my womb, He knit him together perfectly, He protected us from health complications and His grace WAS sufficient for me, His power WAS made perfect in my weakness. I made it! I did the injections, I daily had to sit down again, take a deep breath again, say a quick prayer again, and endure a painful self-inflicted jab.

But the cost was not too high.

I see Silas and I think "of course it was worth it." I think "why did I worry? Why was I afraid?" "of course God would protect us, of course He would be enough."

I need this to be a lesson for life. To let go and trust God that He ALWAYS has my good in mind because of Christ. I need to remember every time I look at Silas that it was surely God who gave him to me, sustained his life in me- despite health conditions, and brought forth good from bad.

I praise You Father because of your goodness to me.