Stepping Into The Waves (When He Calls You Off The Bench)

The days were long as the winter grew even longer. Depression has a way of sneaking in silently and even more so when you feel that you've been forgotten. As I sat there waiting on the bench, I doubted the stillness God was asking of me. In the deafening silence I began to question that I heard God correctly, wondering if this was really the path I was to be on. 

It's not easy to talk about, it's not easy to explain, it's not easy to wait. Depression and unanswered prayers have a way of making people uncomfortable, especially when they can't fix it. Sitting still is one of the hardest things to do, and sometimes there's just no solution or way to speed up the process.

. . . . . . .

And then, without a moments notice, God says, "Come on, lets go!" The phone call came at the end of an ordinary day, I was in such shock when I hung up all I could do was cry happy tears. This was it! It was finally our turn to move into a new season. And in that moment all the waiting seemed worth it. I jumped off the bench and was ready to sprint up the hill. Being called into action has a way of shaking depression and bringing the hopeless to life.   

Only, the road ahead never looks exactly like we imagine. 

Instead of God calling me off the bench He called me out of the boat and into the ocean. 

The OCEAN!

I'm not a big fan of water and especially not the ocean, I don't like how unpredictable the waves are and how they pummel you, knocking you over just about the time you get back up. The ocean is scary and huge!

I step out of the boat in pure faith trusting that He will quickly catch me, and He does. It is scarier than I ever imagined and exhilarating all at the same time. Off in the distance I see a beautiful island, it excites me and for a moment I can see the beauty in all of this. The plan seems clear and I am honored that He would call us to such a journey.

Then out of nowhere a huge wave comes up from behind and knocks me down, I'm sucked under and I can't breathe. I'm terrified and just want to go back to the boat, even the dark and depressing bench seems so much safer. 

I cry out to Him in utter fear, "You picked the wrong person, God. I'm not strong enough. Surely, there is someone better fit for this." 

The waves continue to pull me under, I've lost sight of the land that once gave me so much hope. I question. I fear drowning. I panic. I meltdown. 

But one thing is always true, no matter how dark and overwhelming the night is the sun always rises and with it brings a renewed sense of hope. The morning brings light and the waves are calm, I listen closely and I can hear Him whisper, 

"I've got you, you're going to be okay. There will be more waves but I will never leave your side." 

Again and again I am pointed back to this verse, "My Grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9)

I am so weak left on my own and there are many days that are simply too much for me to bear but it's here that He gives me confidence in the crashing waves and strength for one more day. There are no guarantees that there will be a happy ending to the story, but I do know HE will carry us through this uncharted territory. 

Trusting Where He Leads (Even if it Means Sitting on a Bench)

I heard you whisper, it seemed to come out of nowhere. 

You asked me to take a step closer and follow you on this road.

One that I believed had been long closed down.

I questioned you at first. Could I really be hearing you correctly?

With great care you extended your hand and said, "Come child, follow me."  

"I know you have doubts and there are unknowns. I see your tired feet and weary heart. Please, trust me, just take my hand." 

With every ounce of courage I had left I stepped forward. I rolled my shoulders back and took a deep breathe, reaching for your hand. 

Excited, hopeful and scared I followed. The path winding and curving into the dark, so much I couldn't see, so much I didn't know. I had questions and fears, but every time I started to ramble doubts You calmly squeezed my hand. 

"Child, I've got this," You reassured. 

We came around a bend and before us was a steep hill, it was overwhelming, I couldn't imagine how my tired legs would make it. 

But somehow, one step at a time we were at the top of the hill. I looked over my shoulder with sweat on my brow and a burning in my lungs feeling a burst of motivation after the mountain we had climbed. 

Without much time to catch my breath, you waved me on and asked me to do the hard work of climbing yet another hill. And again somehow my weary body kept going. 

Then, as we came around a corner I saw it laid out before me. 

The most beautiful, flat, gently winding path. The sun glistened on the grass that was still wet with dew. I couldn't help but think that this stretch of the journey would be a bit easier, I welcomed a less demanding hike. 

Just about the time I felt giddy and excited for what was up ahead, for what the future holds...You STOPPED! 






Gently taking my hand in yours you led me to a bench just off the trail. Whispering you said, "Let's sit here awhile, we aren't in a hurry, we have time." 

Suddenly the breath left my lungs not because of exhaustion but instead from my plans changing, from a sudden halt in the forward momentum. I smiled and nodded. I muttered the words, "I trust you Jesus" as I sat down next to you on the bench trying so hard to believe that this was all part of the plan. 

As I sat there the disappointment sank in deeper and my newly hopeful heart sank lower. Tears ran down my face as I cried out to you, reminding you that I was reluctant to start this journey in the first place. It took every last bit of hope left in my weary heart and now, I've been benched. I took that first step, the hardest step and found excitement in the future and then just like that, I find myself waiting again.

I dry my tears and look around, surrounding me are miracles, beauty and blessings. You sit humbly beside me offering words of hope (if I will listen). The leaves are falling peacefully from the trees and the birds are chirping on a crisp fall day. I find enjoyment here, there is beauty all around. I will make another difficult choice, I will choose to rest here with you as long as needed. Though I am antsy and anxious I will continue to trust you, I will continue to wait for your leading as we walk to the finish line. 

Waiting In Line

There's this ride at the carnival and I hear it's a really fantastic one. Some people talk about it like it's the scariest, most life changing thing they've ever experienced. 

I had always dreamed of the day and spent years planning. When the time came I bought a ticket and went to the carnival. There was so much anticipation and so much to look forward to. 

The line was long to this famous ride and people were giddy over it. I found my place at the back of the line. I was a little nervous as I fidgeted there, I just didn't know what to expect. People walked by and told me that it can take a really long time but it's worth it. 

They said things like, "Don't worry, you've got time, just relax." And so, I patiently waited. 

As the wait grew longer my feet started getting tired and the sun beat down on my face. I started getting discouraged and questioning if it was worth it. I watched the ride spin 'round and 'round, all the while becoming more anxious. 

I imagined how it would feel. Would I love it or would I be sick the whole time? 

A couple times I got all the way to the front of the line, my turn was so close I could taste it. My stomach started to turn, I even felt all the symptoms and feelings that others described.

I stood in the shadows as girls giggled and shared their experiences about how great the ride was and how much fun they had. I longed to know what they were talking about. 

I stood there watching as it was her turn. She stepped up to be seated, she was about to experience it for the first time. All her friends were cheering for her and planning a huge celebration for afterwards.

I stood there unnoticed as some were able to walk right to the front of the line, not waiting at all.   

As people were getting off the ride they were laughing and sharing their stories. Each one had a slightly different experience but they all had one thing in common, they each had a turn. 

My anticipation grew with each passing hour and I just couldn't wait to experience it for myself.

A passerby stopped to warn me, "You don't want to ride that ride, it will just make you sick. It made me sick... be glad you haven't had a turn." 

"Maybe it will", I said, "but I'd like to decide that for myself even if I am sick." 

Another person stepped off the ride exclaiming, "Oh that's the greatest thing ever! I can't wait to do it all over again!" 

I stood there patiently, STILL standing there hoping that my turn would be soon. I believed their stories but it didn't change the fact that I'd still like to experience it for myself.  

Someone passes back by the line, they are stunned to see me still standing there. They ask, 

"You STILL want to ride this ride?"

"Aren't you getting a little old for this kind of stuff?" 

I reply with what feels like the last stitch of kindness, "Yes, YES in fact I do! Time doesn't erase a desire."    

You see, I've been patiently waiting in line and holding on to God's promises for 12 years. I know some who have been in line longer than me and some much less. But this is my experience and my story, the days are long when the disappointment and frustration is real.

These years have not been wasted, many times I've gotten out of line to experience a lot of amazing rides. Some of the most beautiful, exhilarating times that have changed my life forever and I am so glad I didn't miss them. 

But, this ride, this ride of pregnancy is one that was placed deep in my heart and something I've desired for many years. 

It's something that is effortless to so many and the deepest longing in the hearts of the few that wait. 

And so I wait...

May I wait well, asking God to give me the strength to keep standing when it seems all hope is lost. 

The humility to congratulate and celebrate others as they go ahead of me.

The endurance to not give up and trust God's timing.  

And most importantly the ears to hear His voice when He says it's time to step out of line, but until then, 

I wait here for my turn.  (or until the carnival closes.)   

Still Being Still

"All you need for me to be is Still. And know that you are God. Be still. And trust that you, and trust that you are... parting waters, making a way for me, your'e moving mountains that I can't even see. You've answered my prayers before I even speak. All you need for me to be is Still." 

I sing along to Hilary Scott's beautiful words as I drive home from dropping Rogan off at school. 

I think about what it means to be still and I say to God, "but I am and have been for a really long time". It's as if I don't know what else to do anymore, just simply BE, it's all you can do sometimes when life circles back around and you find yourself in a familiar place.

I am forced to remember the words I wrote over three years ago when I hear the word Still. 

·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·  ·

                                           

"Mama, will you grow me a baby in your tummy?"

I swallow hard fighting back the tears as my stomach flip flops. I knew this day would come, yet I still don't feel ready to answer. I reach down deep, quickly asking that God give me the words and the courage to answer this question that I don't even know the answer to.

"Buddy, Mama can't grow a baby in her tummy."

He so graciously accepts the answer and moves on to another thought, another question. I figure a four year old doesn't need to hear the long drawn out answer of, "Doctors say there's no reason we shouldn't get pregnant and they're baffled as much as we are that it hasn't happened in nine years of trying."

Instead I use this question as a great opportunity to explain to him that a beautiful girl grew him in her belly and gave him to us as a gift. And once again he accepts this as normal and seems content with my answer. If only I could be as resilient as he is and accept the answers of the unkown.

Some time passes, most randomly the question is asked again. Only this time we are driving and he asks me quite specifically if I will grow him a baby brother in my tummy.

I choose to reply this time with "I'm not sure if I can, but I sure would if I could". I proceed to tell him that it's really up to God, not really my decision. He then asks if we can pray...
Who is this kid anyway?! I am pushed to make a choice to do the right thing regardless of how I feel. I've prayed about this countless times, but I know that I can forever take this desire to God.
So I drive and pray (with my eyes open of course). I ask God for me to be able to grow a baby brother or sister in my tummy (such raw and honest words requested by a four year old). I can't say I've ever phrased it quite like this before. He corrected me half way through and said, "No, a baby brother, not a sister!" I guess we better be specific while requesting things, right? We finish and he says, "Ok, great now it will happen."
And my heart drops again. Back to praying we go...

"God, may your will be done. You see our hearts and our desires. But you know what's best and having another baby may not be your will and we accept that. We trust you. We trust you God."

He's content, we drive home. My heart is raw once again. Just about the time I feel closure with all of this something is stirred and my heart is ripped wide open AGAIN!

Have you ever said something (or worse, prayed something) and later you have to eat your words?

Not two hours passed and I was eating those very words as a friend told me of her recent pregnancy. I'm happy for them and their blossoming family. Yet my heart aches to be able to give my child what so many mothers give their children with ease... siblings. The words rang out in my head as I hung up the phone and reality sank in.

 

I'm standing here...STILL. 

Still Standing Here. 

People are passing me by on every side. I have seriously heard of five new pregnancies in just the last month. And with every one I swallow hard, smile and congratulate them. But inside another piece of my heart breaks.

God, I trust you. I TRUST You God. You know what is best for me, for our family.

I write these words not to get sympathy or pity. I risk a lot by typing these words out. I risk people tip toeing around me and sheltering me. Friends trying to protect me. I risk these things for the hope that someone is reading this that is going through a similar situation.

You are not alone friend! Even though it may feel like it, every one around you is NOT pregnant. I have muttered those words many times, (everyone is pregnant!) then I'm quickly reminded of people I love struggling with the same thing.

Regardless of what we are longing for (a spouse, a home, a job) it can be easy to think everyone else is getting what we want when there is nothing but silence from our heartfelt cry and desire.  

I was reading a friend's blog earlier this week. She writes about how she finds comfort in 
Psalm 130

I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope. I wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning. Israel, put your hope in the Lord, for the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. (vs 5-7)

I put my trust in Him. I don't trust myself or my desires. I don't trust people or their opinions on what I should do.

All I have to do is Trust God! Easier said than done. But I will strive a little more each day to trust Him more.

(As these questions and requests still come at me I am reminded that I am not the one in control. My 4 year old is now 7 1/2 and he still asks for a baby brother or sister, in these moments I am challenged on how I will respond. Even though it isn't always easy I am grateful for the opportunity to talk about the gift of adoption and the crazy road of trusting God. Like the song I was singing in the car, He is moving mountains that I can't see and that is what I hold on to.)   

Don't Give Up: (A Letter To The Tired Mama)

Dear tired mama,

Do you ever feel like the world is against you? Or, maybe not the whole world, but your kids, your pets, and your husband? Those days when you’re just worn out, weary, and feeling a little beat up. You strive for a healthier lifestyle, a better marriage, well-behaved children, and yet it seems as if you are running in circles. It may be discouraging, but please don’t lose heart. Don’t give up on the important things you are fighting for. Keep fighting!


The frustrations are real. They seem to come at once, and they wear you down. I understand because I am tired too.

Your intention to exercise was good, but then the kids got sick and your life came screeching to a halt. It’s been over a week since you’ve done anything more strenuous than taking the garbage out. So much for that new workout plan. Instead of a morning spent clearing your head and getting fresh air, you had to take temperatures and give medication. Don’t let this short break discourage you; it’s only temporary. Don’t give up on taking care of your body.

To read the rest of the story, head over to Portland Moms Blog.  

...and if not He is still good.

"Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you." Matt. 7:7

I recently came across this verse in a devotional. It jumped off the page at me and laid a little heavy on my heart. I wrote it down in my journal and I asked God if He really means it for me and my life, I questioned that He did. 

If I am honest, like really truly honest I struggle with Faith. I have a hard time believing that something is going to work out or a prayer will simply be answered. And then when specific prayers aren't answered I wish I'd stayed back in the safe zone where I won't be let down. If I don't put my heart on the line or make my desires known then I can pick myself up and move on a little easier. But crying out to God from the very depths of my heart and then hearing only silence leaves me wrestling and even angry at times. 

The problem is, I don't want to live numb and silent. I want a rich life, one where I come boldly to the throne of the one who made me and pour my heart out (even when I don't hear a reply). This verse stirred something so deep in me and caused me to ask God if it was true because since June of 2005 I have been bringing the same heart desire to Him. God has blessed us so much and I have seen so many miracles in our life, they have built my faith and trust in God over these past 11 years.  

But I would be lying if I said that this one teeny tiny thing (becoming pregnant) was not still a big desire for me. A bit of a barrier between me and God and my faith journey. 

I have told myself and others that it's all good and I enjoy this season we find ourselves in. Some days I believe it. There have been seasons of contentment and overwhelming blessings. No matter what though there is always this aching void, a deep desire that I have surrendered more times than I can count. 

It is easier to convince myself and even those closest to me that I am content and fine. I joke about how terrible those sleepless nights and diapers would be after so many years not having them. I lie to myself hoping that someday maybe I will believe it.

Honesty is scary. Not having an answer or a solution is terrifying. And it makes people uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. I know this because I have experienced it. Friends and well meaning people want to solve it and fix it. They are quick to offer a solution or give advice that maybe I need to surrender. As time has passed, the advice has changed and now there are suggestions to count my blessings, grieve the dying dream and accept the no answer that God has given. 

Yet something remains deep inside my heart and though I feel that everyone has given up and grown weary of this pain I carry, I just can't seem to completely bury this desire. 

So if God says to keep on asking then why should I stop talking to him about what is weighing on my fragile heart? 

Last Summer I was reminded of a story in the Bible, one I learned about in Sunday school but never saw the message of faith like I have as an adult. It's in Daniel, when King Nebuchadnezzar was going to throw Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego into the fire. They replied, "If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God whom we serve is able to save us from your power, Your majesty. But even if he doesn't, we want to make clear to you, Your majesty that we will never serve your gods..." 


They must have sounded crazy stating that God could save them from the fire, but it doesn't stop there. In a way they are saying that no matter the outcome God is good and they will serve Him. Even though it doesn't say these words exactly, there is a popular line that comes from this verse... "and if not He is still good." This has become somewhat of a mantra or reminder to me. A statement of faith and acceptance. 


I believe we all have a desire that we reluctantly whisper to God. One that seems crazy to others. After many years and much silence we think that maybe we shouldn't have asked or convince ourselves that we didn't even want it that bad in the first place. Maybe we feel guilty that we aren't appreciating the blessings He has already given us by asking for something more. But instead of letting it die and letting guilt silence us, what if we shined light on this "thing" and offered it back to God (even if it is for the 100th time)?  



It is terrifying, it is vulnerable and it certainly doesn't feel good. 

We don't shine light into these areas for a guaranteed answer or for security, we simply let God's light shine so the darkness doesn't win. 

Together may we bring our deepest most treasured requests before God, trust Him with our frailty, our doubts, our disbelief. Trust Him despite the answers or the silence, trust Him because this is faith. 

Trust Him because even if He stays silent, He is still good. 

A Different Mountain Top

There have been seasons in my life that have felt much like a mountain top experience. One major time is right after we adopted Rogan, I was tired of my unhealthy way of eating, so Mike and I made some drastic changes to our lifestyle. We began to experience a new way of life together by eating healthy and running. I saw results both physically and mentally from pushing myself hard, gaining sore muscles and a smaller jean size. It felt good, I felt victorious.

And so when I started thinking about my 40th birthday 6 months ago and deciding what I wanted to do to make my birthday memorable and special I immediately thought I should sign up for a race and start running again.

It was the thing that worked for a season in my life and I expected it to recapture that satisfaction... that mountain top experience.

The problem is, it's not what I needed or what direction my life was going. Instead I was experiencing extreme fatigue, depression and feelings of despair. Every time I would try and push myself to go for a run I would spend days recovering and feel even worse.

I started seeing doctors and asking questions, and learned what I really needed was rest and a new way of self care. Rather than pushing harder I was learning (and accepting) that Yoga and walks gave me the exercise I needed without hurting my body and causing stress. I started taking supplements to replenish areas I was extremely deficient in and focusing on eating the right foods to give me energy. I found the importance in setting aside time for rest after a busy weekend though is seems like a minor change it is just the grace I needed to extend to myself.  

So when 40 approached I got sucked in to my old habits momentarily and what this world says I should do. For just a moment I thought, "Oh, I wish I was feeling like a rock star in those jeans or conquering a really hard race (heck, any race). Or maybe I should go get a facial or a new hairstyle to feel younger." But instead, I caught myself and recognized that old way of thinking, the way that leaves me exhausted and never satisfied.


Listening to my body, taking time and being a little more gentle with myself. Being okay to let people down and say no. Admitting that I am weak and I need time to rest.

This is where I am currently and though it's not very glamorous or shiny it is what I'm Choosing.

These things are what have been leading up to this big day... this monumental birthday. 

Most days it doesn't feel victorious or wonderful. But this is what makes me glad for a new decade before me, this is what drives me. Learning to be still and rest is not the same as doing nothing. It is focusing on the best things. It is being available when someone is in need, taking the time to sit and listen to my 94 year old Grandpa's stories and making a meal for a friend. Listening to what God is asking of me and knowing that it IS enough.

The past ten years consisted of some of the greatest blessing I could ask for as well as some of the greatest disappointment and heartache. I look back and realize I spent all of my thirties trying to get pregnant... that's a long time! So much surrender, hoping, trying, striving and disappointment. And though, I'm by no means saying I'm at complete peace with it all or giving up on the dream of having more kids I can say that I am ready to face these next ten years with new perspective.

Forty doesn't look like I had always imagined or what the world says it should be. And truly that doesn't matter. My "top of the mountain" experience is simply one of rest, stillness and letting my body heal. It's a process of learning to leave behind the trying, striving and proving. 

I am okay to be here, right here at this place welcoming the year ahead of me. 

May I be obedient to where God is calling me whether it be on a mountain top or in a valley.