HELLUR || Wilder James Day Birth Story

WOW... It's been a year and a half since I last posted something on here.
I don't know why but today I just felt like it was time.
We'll see what comes out. It probably won't be something life changing or even some type of revelation.

So I guess I should start with the fact that I had another sweet baby since I last posted.
Actually a few weeks after the previous one, I found out I was expecting again.
IT WAS A SHOCK. I kinda cried a little.
I remember wondering if I was pregnant because my legs had been twitching at night.
(that only happens when I'm pregnant.) So one day, after being gone most of the day, we pulled up to the house & I piled the girls into the double stroller, we walked down to the Dollar General, and I bought a pregnancy test.
I went home took it real quick before G got home and it was
POSITIVE.
I cried some... spoke in hushed, hurried, slurred, tones to Jesus, and paced.
LITERALLY PACED THE FLOOR.
I was so fearful in that moment because to be completely honest, my post-partum had been pretty rough after having Sullivan. I was so worried about myself emotionally. I mean, I had a 7 month old!

Turns out I was 9 week along already. Who knew?!
God did.

Wilder James came on April 15th, 2016 at 3:43pm.
He was my biggest baby at 8lbs 1oz, 21.5 inches long and he was 3 days early. MY ONLY EARLY BABY!
His face was extremely bruised, but it went away quickly. His face had been hitting my pelvic bone for weeks. I had been dilated to a 7 for 2-3 weeks before going into labor. We were moving, I was packing & unpacking, painting & prepping. It was chaos. But then there he was.
And only a couple hours of labor!
I had already been up at the hospital/offices because Winslow had an ear infection. I was having severe contractions while there & was swaying back & forth at the pediatrician's office. I called G to meet me at my midwife's office because I couldn't get them on the phone. They told me to immediately go to L&D. So I checked in a little after noon while Garrett ran the girls home to get situated with my sweet friend, Cait. He grabbed the bags & all the stuff that wasn't packed (I'm a high maintenance hospital guest, TONS OF STUFF) and headed back my way.
So 3.5 hrs later, there was my sweet boy!
Never has one of my kids looked so swollen, but he was. And all his blood vessels in his eyes were broken. It was sad. But everything healed so quickly & we were so happy to finally have him in his arms. His 14 mo old & 2.5 year old sisters were ecstatc to meet him & have been pretty much smitten ever since.
He will be 10 months next week & I'm so thankful that God chose us to be the parents of these 3 little blessings so quickly!

I get so many hilarious/sometimes rude comments while out and about with all of them.
MOST people are extremely nice.
Some just tell me that my husband "needs to get snipped" like it's their business or something.

But G & I just look at each other & say, "They're so great."
Being a parent is pretty fun. Sometimes, it's exhausting.
It's kinda like Six Flags... it's a blast but sooooo tiring. And sometimes vomit is involved. But sometimes so is ice cream.

Stretch Marks or Walking on Water?

This, my friends, is the story of how having kids 17mo apart is tough. real tough.

It’s the story of a lot of tears, a lot of frustrations, a lot of shameful behavior & a lot of wondering if I could do this or if I should be admitted to a crazy house. It’s a story about my imperfections.

oh, but it’s also a story of God’s power and grace in my life. 

Let me just say one more thing about this little story before you get too much deeper into it, whether you are walking the same road I am on or not, the story and the message is relevant to where you are, have been or will be some day. You may not be a mom, you may be a mom but not have kids as close as mine, or maybe they’re closer, maybe you’re unmarried, or maybe you are the grandmother of 6 or 7… God is saying the same thing to you today as he has done to me. 

So, let me start at the beginning…

I remember when I was barely pregnant with Sullivan (like 7wks) & I told someone that we were expecting again. Winslow was crawling around everywhere & she was only 9 months old. this persons response was... "No! Blair! What were you thinking?!" I was flabbergasted at the insensitivity & lack of realization of the gift we'd been given. I took it with a grain of salt & moved on, anticipation growing with each day as my belly grew & Winslow grew as well and began to talk, walk & eat table foods. 

Sullivan had been a little bit of a surprise. we had decided to try for another and then 2wks later found out I was already 6wks along. 

we were EXTREMELY confident that her little life was orchestrated by God because it was out of our hands/unplanned by us, but definitely planned by Him.

sweet Sulli came & tho she has been more demanding, she has always had the sweetest little spirit about her.

it wasn't long before post-partum hormonies set in & yikes. listen up ladies who will one day be moms. Everyone is gonna talk to you about those pregnancy hormones and boy are those boogers… but in my personal experience, the real trouble-makers… are the

BREASTFEEDING HORMONES.

[insert horror sound effect here: REEEE! REEEE! REEEEE! REEEEE!]

seriously though. they were doozies for a month or so when I had Winslow, but the first 5 months of Sullivan’s life have been an absolute WAR. a serious battle for my mind. I have cried many a tear to my poor husband, my mom, my mother-in-law and even Winslow & Sullivan. 

One day, Garrett came home to find me laying prostrate on my bed with the door shut crying, Winslow banging on the door to my room crying, and Sulli laying on the floor on a blanket crying. It’s been hard transition.

You know what’s hard: someone crying every moment of every day of your life and it’s your job to fix it, but you can’t. Someone else is always starting up the moment the other one is calming down.

You know what else is hard: having no energy for your husband when he walks in the door because you have cried, nursed, sang, read out every emotion you could possibly have and you are DRAINED.

You know what ELSE is hard: feeling like a failure every moment of the day and thinking the very same thing that someone had spoken to me when I was barely pregnant with Sulli and Winslow was crawling around on the floor… “What was I thinking?”

Every time that thought would enter my head, I would remember how she got here and that she was FROM GOD. Some of you understand what I’m talking about. You don’t wish they weren’t here… you just wish you were more capable to handle their presence a little better.

I remember asking my mom once, “Is it normal to think to myself at least once or twice a day, ‘I CAN’T DO THIS! I’M PHYSICALLY/MENTALLY UNABLE!!!” She told me yes.

Literally EVERYDAY, I would pray and beg God, “PLEASE help me. PLEASE GOD! I can’t do this on my own!” Every day I was crying more and more to Him about my need for him, but everyday as things got worse, Winslow needed me more, Sullivan needed me more, Garrett needed me more and I kept losing myself, my hope, my joy…. I began to get ANGRY.

My anger was coming out in different ways and mostly being unleashed on my sweet husband, but I wasn’t mad at him. I wasn’t mad at my sweet babies either tho my patience was growing thinner everyday.

I was angry at God.

SO ANGRY.

I was crying out to him, literally! I was yelling his name, seeking his truths, searching him out, and asking for help. but it wasn’t letting up. the hard was still coming. I loved them so much and wanted me to be ok for THEM and for myself. He wasn’t hearing my prayer! He wasn’t doing what I was begging him to do!

but then…

it happened.

He brought me so low… that He was able to speak and be heard by my hurt and torn heart.

[ T H A N K  Y O U  G O D ]

Garrett came home one day and told me to leave the house. He told me to get in the car and drive. Go have some alone time while he put the girls to bed. I protested but knew he was right. I turned the ignition and cried until I reached my destination and then cried some more. 

I went to a spot I’ve gone since I was in high school to think and have some quiet time.

I sat in the car and cried and cried. I told God how forgotten I felt. How unseen I felt. How I felt like he didn’t care. I asked him why this was so hard when I had felt so confident my whole life that this was what I was made for. I cried until I had no more tears and then I pulled out His Word.

This was one of those times, when you KNOW God, the Creator of the World, is ANSWERING you. little ol’ you. 

I read about Leah and Rachel that day. For some reason, the She Read Truth study that I was SUPER behind on, was on those two women. Ya’ll… God came into my little car. He told me something that he may be saying to you too.

First, Leah, don’t you think she had to feel just completely UNSEEN? I mean, not only was her sister highly favored by her HUSBAND, but her own father knew that she wasn’t likely to catch herself a man, so he had to trick Jacob into taking her. I mean seriously? and we say we have image issues today. This girl had to struggle with a little body image. 

Leah felt less than, not enough, and last choice. She felt unseen…

I’ve always viewed Rachel as the bratty younger sister who always got what she wanted but that’s not completely true. She was barren. I don’t know how I didn’t see this before… but Rachel was watching her older sister have SIX sons and there she was unable to have even 1. Rachel felt forgotten by God. She felt overlooked, desperate and unheard by God.

Oh but in verse 30 of that story comes the meat… 

“God remembered Rachel and he opened her womb….”

There in that car that day, God came and said to me,

You are neither unseen, nor forgotten by me.
I have seen every tear, heard every cry.

“And remember I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”
Matthew 28:20

and he’s saying the same to you.

You are seen by the God of the universe. He knows our situations, he knows our hearts. He knows our pain and inadequacies, he sees the imperfections and loves us still. He will not abandon you. He has not forgotten you. HE HAS NOT FORGOTTEN YOU! YOU! YOU!

You are of GREAT worth to him. Believe this truth.

The next day, I was sitting in our little blow up swimming pool in the backyard with Winslow. She was playing and I was thinking about what God had been speaking to me, feeling encouraged.

Somehow, I got distracted by the stretch marks on the sides of my hips. I was thinking to myself, ‘man… those are a bummer.’

just when I look down, I hear a splash and Winslow has slipped and gone under a little bit. I reached over to help her out and God brought to mind the story of Peter on the water with Jesus and I felt him say,

“This is why things have been so hard, Blair. This is why it’s not working out the way it’s supposed to.”

I realized that just like Peter, I am focused on my imperfections. I focus on all my “motherhood stretch marks” and the things about myself I don’t like. I focus on the situation, the realities… 

It’s when I take my eyes off of Jesus, that someone falls. I fall, my babies suffer, Garrett suffers.

I just felt in my heart that day that if I don’t start really relying on the Spirit to live through me instead of worrying about everything I’m not… my sweet babies are in danger.

All that to say…

friend,

wherever you are today…

Get your eyes off your own issues… your own insecurities, and your failures and shortcomings.

Instead of making sure everyone knows the ways you failed that day, make sure they know what God did in and through you that day.

Boast in his goodness & faithfulness.

I’d much rather hear about that than what cranny of your house you didn’t clean, what part of your body you hate, what your greatest weakness is.

You are a prized gift of God.

A Seen, Remembered, Prized gift of God.

be encouraged, because I am walking the same road you are…

the road to believing God and turning my eyes on Him.

You are NOT alone.

Sullivan Ruth Day - February 13, 2015 - Birth Story

So the littlest chicklet is 5.5 months and I haven't done this, but don't worry, I JUST posted Winslow's HERE and back dated it.... and she's almost two. I wanted to write these down so that I won't forget the details. I still remember having Winslow like it was yesterday but I know it won't always feel like yesterday in my mind so I should have it somewhere that I can remember.

Sullivan Ruth was always a little trickster.
She was EXTREMELY active, using my organs as springboards to bounce into other organs, very fond of resting on my sciatic nerve, etc. She's always been a mover.

So when I was dilated to a 5 at 36 weeks, I wasn't that shocked. I knew she was low... I could feel it.
My pregnancy with her had been a little more uncomfortable than my pregnancy with Winslow but NOTHING compared to what women experience... God bless you ladies.
Towards the end, I was pretty achy and getting really ready.

[Let me just say, in my experience, there's always a moment (or a few moments) towards the end of your pregnancy when you are laying on your bed crying, surrounded by the entire contents of your closet saying, "I'm so ready for her to be here!!!" Can I get a witness?]

So I was dilated, cervix was getting thin and I still had a month! I was sure if I'd make it to February! (Due date: Feb. 11)
Oh but I did.
On Feb. 12, Garrett took me out for an early Valentine's Day date. My parents were watching Winslow at their house and he took me to Peasant Village. We dropped Winslow off and went to dinner.
My contractions started almost immediately after we dropped Winslow off. If you know my birth story with Winslow, you know that I didn't go into labor naturally. So I wasn't really sure what to expect. My contractions were coming, but sometimes one was 3min and the next one was 3min 22sec and I wasn't sure that was how it was supposed to go. They were getting worse tho and closer together. I could feel a difference when I walked too. I was limping because I could feel her engaged.
We decided when we got to my parents to call my midwife. She had given me her personal cell phone number so I gave her a quick call and asked what to do. She thought it was probably happening and if they got worse to go in. I had already been in to get monitored once - false alarm. So I was really leery about going in again and it being another false alarm... insert Father of the Bride II scene when Annie goes in TWICE for false alarms... ugh.

We decided to go ahead and go in. We had to run home, pack bags (oops) and get to the hospital. We were pretty confident that since I had been dilated so much and Winslow's birth happened in less than 7 hours of labor, that this one would go really fast. My midwife had told me to hurry and get to the hospital as soon as I knew I was in labor.

OH HOW THINGS ARE NEVER WHAT YOU THINK THEY WILL BE.

We went in about 11pm that night. I was checked and was dilated to a 6-7. I was in early stages of labor... but almost fully dilated.
I had been adamant from the beginning that I wanted to go all natural. I had experienced some weird post partum after Winslow's birth and wanted to see how it would differ without any drugs.
We had gone to a child-birthing class to help us in the process of natural labor and learned some different techniques so we tried some of those techniques in the beginning, but honestly my contractions were painful but not consistently worsening. I kept waiting for it to really come on, but it was bad, just not that bad. Not as bad as I had been thinking it would be.
The nurses kept telling me that I was the most calm all natural patient they'd ever had.

I dilated to a full 7 somewhere in the night. Then I stalled. We were up all night going through contraction after contraction together. Garrett was slamming coffee. 12 hrs after admission to the hospital, I hadn't changed. My contractions were actually slowing down. I was tired, exhausted, frustrated, but mostly anxious. I wanted my baby and I was stressing about the pain only getting worse... my midwife wanted to break my water, but I was at a point where I wasn't even thinking clearly anymore and for some reason was really against that.
The hardest point was when Garrett and I starting debating on the epidural. Something that I hadn't even thought about the entire pregnancy! I honestly just wanted REST. I just wanted to laugh and enjoy this great day. So far it had been tiring and stressful. Garrett and I would pray and he would read over me verses we had written down for encouragement.
We were not in agreement on whether or not to get the epidural, but I ended up getting it. He just didn't want me to later wonder if I could've done it. I'll probably never try that again honestly.
After I got the epidural, we were soon laughing and talking and I was able to relax and start dilating some more. She came to check me in a hour and I was a 9. 15min later, I was fully dilated.

I pushed for 15min and she was out. My sweet Sulli Ru. The cord was wrapped around her 3x around the neck, once around the chest and once around the legs. She was caught by her Daddy, though the midwife took her right after for just a second to unwind her. She was so purple but crying and that's all we cared about. She popped a blood vessel in her eye but other than that was perfect in every way.
She was born at 12:43pm on Feb. 13, 7lbs 6oz, 20in long. 2 days over due and only 7oz littler than what her sister had been.

She latched almost immediately and ate like a champ. We later found out she was born with a lip/tongue tie which has made feeding challenging and she spits up most of the day but we have learned to deal and should have that taken care of in the next couple months.
She's the happiest little thing even though she's more demanding. It doesn't take much to make her smile and we love doing that.
She's SMOTHERED by her big sister and by smothered I do mean absolutely adored.

Making the transition from 1 to 2 kids has been the hardest thing I've ever done in my entire life.
I've learned so much. What I've found my identity in, who I really am, who God really is, how amazing my husband is...

but those are stories for another day.

Another safe and beautiful birth story in the books... though long and not what I thought it would be, beautiful none the less. One thing I've learned with both births....

It doesn't matter how they get here, just that they're here and they're mine.

MILKSHAKE.

yesterday was Husband's 27th birthday.
He spent the day working of course but not before I sent him off with some bacon and blueberry waffles in his stomach. aaaaaand a new wedding ring on his finger. (his original had faded as Tungsten apparently fades whereas Titanium does not.)
Last night though, we went to a coffee shop here in town with family.

I got a chocolate milkshake because even though, as of late, we haven't been doing sweets, I figured, 'It's Garrett's birthday, let's celebrate!'

Winslow was of course running around everywhere because she no longer needs to hold onto my fingers, but goes where she wants when she wants. I knew that day was coming. (see previous post)

I was trying to give her some of the milkshake using a spoon because we haven't mastered the art of sucking through a straw yet. So she stood across the little coffee table from me as I painstakingly tried my hardest not to drip chocolate milkshake everywhere getting it to her. I would try to get her to come stand by me to be a little closer to me so I wouldn't drip so much but no, she wouldn't budge... I would show her where she could stand next to me and even tried to lead her over and still... she just wanted more. MORE CHOCOLATE MOM! She's a girl through and through with the chocolate y'all.

drip drip drip....

It was somewhere in the middle of me pulling her arms trying to get her to see what I was trying to do while she yelled and fought me, that I got it. People always talk about how having kids teaches you so much about God as the Father. I've had glimpses every now and then so far and I understand what everyone was talking about. And I guess this was just one of those times, but even today... I'm thinking on it still.

God is begging us, drawing us, asking and pleading with us to come closer to him. He has so much good just waiting to let us suck down with a straw instead of clumsily getting the drips and drops from far away. Still we say no.. we are fine where we are, we can't see what He is doing. Maybe we are afraid of coming closer... of losing "freedoms" maybe? Who knows... I do know that there is more to be had of our God. [Psalm 139:5] It more than I can dream up in my dreamy little mind, but I can get it when I am next to him, not at an arms reach, but at his feet.

Winslow and I wasted so much milkshake last night doing the little dance over the coffee table. Finally, after great loss, I made a pathway for her to get to me... and she finally came to me.

The thing is, God makes a way for us to be with him, to come to him, approach him boldly... and still we see the path, but we choose to keep him at a distance. And that is when I ask you, what is it that is keeping us there?

The truth for me is this:

I know that God demands a high price.
Intimacy with him requires my time, my valuable, short, sweet, precious, scarce NAP time.
So much can be done in a babies nap time. Or can it?
I know that it also may require me doing some things that are uncomfortable or even scary.
'What if He tells me to do something CRAZY?!'

BUT OH THE RICHNESS OF GOD.
Knowing, trusting and resting in Him has ALWAYS been worth it.
I have to believe it always will be.

Others stand on the other side of the coffee table shouting "I want MORE! GIVE ME MORE!"
All the while, God's desire is to give us more but it requires us taking steps of [faith, obedience, reconciliation, etc.]
We want healing, nice things, beauty, more more more....
God wants to lavish on us HIMSELF which is best and truest when we are by his side, palms open, heads bowed, in reverence to him. He is that which fulfills all things. [Matt. 6:33]

It's so frustrating sometimes being a parent and seeing the goodness your kid could have if they just LISTEN to you. I know that I am only at the starting line of this parenting thing and that I will feel more and more of this in the teenage years. But still, you know what is there, you know that they will love it, that it's best for them... but they just want to do what they want to do.

Just this morning I pulled ANOTHER mouthful of dog food from Winslow's lips and she screamed and cried and hit me because she wanted more. We have daily conversations about the dog food and dog water and still it's like crack to her! She always will choose to play in the dog water while munching on the dog food. 

I can SEE that it's not good for her but she will not listen. She would rather have dog food any day of the week than a pb&j. (She has this thing about jelly, weird I know.)

I'm so grateful to the Father though. He is so patient with us. The Holy Spirit teaches and teaches us. Over and over and over again.

Even last night and today, he's teaching me this lesson that he's been teaching me for forever.
COME TO ME. COME TO ME. EAT. DRINK. HAVE YOUR FILL.
Have I listened? No.
So He teaches me again.
That He wants and desires for me to know him intimately and deeply. 

Grateful heart today. I'm thankful for a God who loves unconditionally, a toddler who teaches me daily as I try to teach her and a husband who walks this road with me and stays up late doing crosswords and hashing through all that God is saying.

"Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."
Hebrews 4:16

T O D A Y .

yesterday, Winslow and I were having this moment...

I was walking her around the house as she held onto my fingers and it was one of those moments when you realize...

one day, this sweet girl, will run through the door from being out and about with friends, she'll change her clothes, grab her purse and car keys and run out again off to class or work or who knows what.

and in that moment, you are more than happy to half-bend-half-stand as she holds onto your fingers and practices going where she wants. My back started aching and I was thinking, 'This could go on forever' but we just kept right on going.

until....

I literally couldn't take it anymore and I made her stop and our beautiful moment ended in her biting my shoulder, cuz that's her new thing she's doing.

but that moment... which really was... a moment... was so sweet/sobering.

because Winslow is turning one in 10 days and the thought of my sweet beautiful newborn being suddenly ONE makes me want to smile/kick/scream/laugh/faint/throwup/givemyselfahighfive. I'm gonna trust in your hashtag reading skills to read that last one.

but seriously...

when I was a kid, it felt like time passed by me so sloooooooow....

Christmas was always lightyears away and it was always so sad when it was over because

I HAVE TO WAIT ANOTHER YEAR?!?!!

but then I had a baby.

and the clocks hands just started turning and turning....

and haven't stopped.

I remember when she started rolling over and I thought, "No way... you were just born!"

and now she gets mad and throws fits and I look at my mom and dad and apologize because I know I am just scraping the surface of this parenthood thing... and I get now why they would tell us, "I don't know what to do with you right now." 

but I'm this sentimental little thing about a couple things in my life.

things & people I truly love.

and if I had my way, I wouldn't experience life at all but I would just sit in my corner and

R E M E M B E R.

but then if I didn't live, I'd have nothing to remember here in a little bit, would I?

So now here we are, Winslow's turning one and she'll be a big sister in about 5 months WHICH IS INSANE(LY EXCITING!) and then she'll head off to college on what feels like tomorrow.

But I've decided something.... 

I'm gonna stop complaining.

I'm gonna live my life in the moment. and enjoy TODAY. because it could be all I have! I don't want to miss out on anything.

and if I'm stuck in my hole always remembering, I am idolizing past experiences instead thanking God for my today and living it to the fullest.

I'm not gonna complain that I feel chubby or fat with this new baby on it's way.

When I complain about how I feel, I am being ungrateful for the life that is miraculously growing within me.

I'm not going to complain that the car's key fob isn't working or that the dog woke the baby up... or that the baby is awake waaaaay too early, or that the bathroom STILL isn't redone after a year of living here and the texture is falling off....because this stuff is junk. It doesn't matter. what it says when I whine and cry about that stuff is that I've lived way too privileged a life and am way too dependent on comfort.

So today, I'm thankful. for life in my womb, for a sweet (biting) almost one year old with gobs of hair and her daddy's smile, for a husband who tho he left this morning early, it was to spend time with Jesus because he believes in giving Him our first fruits of everyday, for an old perfectly imperfect home to live in, for a tight bank account that makes us use our thinkers, for clothes on our backs, for Garrett's amazing blessing of a job, for our crazy, fun, smart puppy who LOVES Winnie, for Mac-N-Cheese for dinner again (our fave!), for my clothesline and 7 clucking chickens... for family... for friends.. 

I've been given so much... and I'm not gonna dwell on the past, or wish for the time ahead, but I'm gonna love today.  

I only have like 17 more years with her in my home...

I wanna spend it loving every day.

THIS was part of my T O D A Y.

3 years.

this a shout out to my main squeeze.

because on this day 3 years ago, he got up the courage to say, "I like you. Will you go out on a date with me?"

 first date.

 day after first date = second date.

apparently it's possible, to date, get married and have a baby in 3 years. whoa. the fact that we've known each other since we were 12 makes me feel a little better about how fast our life has moved.

I honestly wouldn't want it any other way tho.

it's me and you babe.
I say it all the time, and I'll say it again.... I'm seriously gonna love you forever.

falling in L O V E.

I am actually in the middle of housework right now, but I had to pause really fast and flesh out all that God just spoke to me about.

Well….

Let me back up.

Just a little bit ago, I was finishing my vacuuming.

Winslow has this thing about the laundry basket. She loves it. She was happy, I was happy.

We were having so much fun.

She’s laughing, I’m talking to her, Posey’s licking her tongue. 

All is good in the neighborhood.

This is when it all went south.

 

She’s just starting to pull up on things, like I’m talking, yesterday was her first day to pull up on me.

I saw what was happening and so I did one of those dives like you do when you’re an all-star Volleyball player like myself (the one season I played in 6^th grade.)
but I was too late.

Her face smacked the wood floor as my hands reached her… forehead.

At least I caught her forehead right? 

Riiiiiight….
so as I’m having visions of my 7 ½ month olds nose gushing blood, she lets out a gut wrenching wail and I felt my stomach tighten in knots. Thankfully, no blood... I always over-react.

[Sidebar: you know when you were a kid and your parents gave you a spanking and they said, “This hurts me more than it hurts you.” And you were thinking…. “Nope… pretty sure it is NOT hurting you as much as it’s hurting me right now.”….. well, I get it now parents. Because when your kid is hurting, trust me, you hurt. I refuse to think on the day I will have to give consequence that hurt...]

I automatically was thinking about how horrible a mother I was and while trying to calm her down, was inwardly scolding myself and swearing us off of the laundry basket.

She calmed after just a minute, (she weirdly has a high pain tolerance, unlike her father or myself) and I sat rocking her to sleep in her room.

And as I rocked I thought about my dive to protect her sweet little nose.

I thought, “I’m the parent. I’m supposed to catch her when she falls!”

And then I was like, “God doesn’t always catch me when I fall.” [read that again with a little attitude, that's how I said it.]

And this, friends, led me on this roundabout path of learning about LOVE.

You see, God promises shelter in him. [Psalm 91:4]

But didn’t Job, FAITHFUL Job, have to walk through multiple trials to fully understand the richness of God?

Didn’t David, a man after God’s own heart, sin and fall incredibly short?

YES.

But then, God was there.

And THE END, right?

That’s it. GOD WAS THERE.

And he held them and brought them to himself and made all things new again.

WHO decided LOVE was SAFETY?

God’s in love with us, right? He IS Love. [1 John 4:16]

He has this Father’s heart for us, right? [1 John 3:1]

But he lets us fall??????

Because Winslow fell today and I didn’t catch her, does that mean I don’t love her? If I had loved her, I would’ve kept her from harm, I would’ve caught her in time, right?

Love doesn’t equal safety.

Amy Carmichael, a missionary in India who devoted her life to God and his work, lived a good portion of the end of her life confined to a bed.

I don’t know where I’ve gotten my wires crossed, but today, God began to unravel something about himself and the beauty of who he is.

When you can see God for who he really is, knowing that even though you choose Him, and choose to do and be whatever he asks of you, He might take your life early or something you hold dear…. 

Can I choose to follow him then? He may not always keep you SAFE. He will shelter you. That much is true. But that may not always mean physically.

We are such a physical people, are we not?

I guess I just learned today that what I believe is a little crazier than I originally thought. I have pledged my life to a God who takes and gives life. I choose for my treasure to be found somewhere other than this physical world. I continue to choose him.

I'm not saying we shouldn't pray for safety or that God doesn't also keep us from harm many times. I am merely speaking to a misconstrued mindset that if he chooses to do something else that may in turn, cause us pain, His love still remains. That is something on which to build a house.

"You will keep in perfect peace

those whose minds are steadfast,

because they trust in you.

Trust in the Lord forever,

for the Lord, the Lord himself, is the Rock eternal."

                                     Isaiah 26:3-4