Tag: trials

On Grief & Beauty

Flowers from the garden at our house.

In the midst of grief, it seems odd that there is still beauty in the world. Sometimes blue skies and the sun and flowers and laughter all seem to exist in vain. How can the world keep turning when it feels like it stopped? How can beauty exist amongst so much pain? I’ve grappled with this more than I care to think about. We live in a broken world, one full of sorrow and pain. God doesn’t promise us a life free from these things, but He does promise two things: 1) He’s right there with us in the midst, He never leaves our side, and 2) For those whose hope is in Jesus, we can look forward to a Heaven where there is no more sorrow and pain.

I’ve learned that grief, while incredibly difficult, is the result of love. And love is the greatest thing that will remain, now and forever. I’d rather be found in love.

“The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade on your right hand. The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night.”
Psalm 121:5&6

God is with us every second of every day and knows our hearts. He will never, ever leave our side. And therein lies our hope.

Emotions.

This year, Easter has looked a bit different. We didn’t have the big  family dinner or the egg hunts with cousins like we normally do. We didn’t have the traditional Easter ham or dessert table. With illness, medical procedures, appointments, and the general busyness of life, we just couldn’t make it work this year.

Last night, it all caught up with me: The heaviness of what we’ve been going through over the last month and a half and what we still face, of the feeling of not being able to catch my breath as I move from one thing to the next every day, of the feeling of failure as certain things get put on the back burner, of the disappointment I’ve been feeling as things aren’t working out how I had hoped, of the Easter season and what God’s sacrifice means for me. I lost it last night. Tears flowed as I washed dishes that had been neglected for entirely too long. Anger flew out of me as I bent down to get a ziploc bag out of the drawer and I slammed it shut. Frustration with myself welled up inside as I surveyed our messy, dirty house. I felt responsible for everything all at once and guilt over having dropped so many balls, over not being able to carry it all, not only physically, but emotionally as well. I broke down.

The good thing about knowing Jesus is that you can trust Him to hold your stuff. He’s not only strong enough to do so, but He wants to. We were never meant to do all this alone. And knowing Him means that while I may lose my *crap* for a few minutes on a Saturday night, my emotions aren’t me. They don’t have the final say. I can take my messy, tangled, raw emotions and lay them at His feet. He can handle them. He can sort them out. He can guide my steps in the way I should go, and He can help me carry the things that are too heavy for me to shoulder on my own.

My sweet seven year old fell asleep on me today.

So, I’m thankful for our non-traditional Easter – for my mom coming to church with us this morning, for going out to eat with my mom and sister, for the snuggles I got because our daughter isn’t feeling well (she NAPPED on me!) Because, in the end, it’s not about the way you celebrate Easter. It’s about WHO you are celebrating ✝️❤️

Orchestrated.

I’m still coming back down to normal from last week, but as I continue to look back, I am simply in awe of how God provides for us. It’s not my medical story to tell, but I can’t help but praise Him for how it all played out. It was so very obviously orchestrated that I can’t help but get chills every time I talk about it.

Basically, my mom got really sick two Sunday ago, but we thought it was strep and we would go to the ER to get some antibiotics and be on our way. Through a series of things and people and decisions that were obviously put there by God, a scary diagnosis and a stay at the hospital in Lexington happened exactly the way they were supposed to. An ER doctor who happen to know that her voice sounded a certain way and ordered a CT scan. The same ER doctor who was humble enough to know that he couldn’t treat her and she needed a specialist. Sweet nurses, jovial EMTs who lightened the otherwise very dark mood and ambulance ride to Lexington. A room at UKs ER when so many others lined the hallways. The fact that pediatric ENT was on rotation that weekend and my mom ended up seeing the same doctor who did our daughter’s ear tubes. A nurse who fell in love with my momma and claimed her as her own since she didn’t have a good relationship with her own parents, and who even asked if it was okay to hug her as her shift ended. You all, the situation was scary, but I FULLY believe it happened exactly the way it was supposed to. God was watching out for my momma and working it out in the best way with every step.

I had a realization after all of this was over – I just kept thinking about how bad it could have been if this decision hadn’t been made or that person hadn’t been there at that time… and I realized why God allows us to think of the what-ifs. So often, my what-ifs spiral me into anxiety. I so often think about all the bad things that could happen and spend my time worrying about every possible outcome. But God taught me such a beautiful lesson through this whole ordeal – sometimes the what-ifs allow us to see God working. If mom had made a different decision, we might not have seen that doctor who knew what to look for, we might have not met people we were supposed to, we might have caught it too late, honestly, the outcome could have been really bad. In times like these, I now understand why we have the ability to think of the what-ifs, because it makes us realize what all God has done for us, and how He’s working even when we don’t see it.

My sweet people.

Also, I need to talk about my absolute gem of a husband. While I was off at the hospital, he held down the fort. He did the bedtime things, made meals, took sweet girl to VBS, took her to her ENT appointment (literally the day mom was admitted, sweet girl had an ear tube checkup AT THE SAME HOSPITAL), brought me fresh clothes and coffee, did the dishes, and all the parenting things. He was wonderful. The picture in the post is when we were leaving the hospital after I had been up for almost 48 hours straight and after sweet girl’s ear tube appointment. My sister had come to stay with mom and these favorite people of mine came to get me for some lunch and a nap. Those few days were rough and scary and exhausting, but I had my people and my God with me every step of the way. I’m glad it’s over and we’re getting back to normal. And it’s weird, but all I am able to feel about it is thankfulness.

Still blessed.

I wrote this Friday, mostly so that I could look back and remember this chaos. But, I’m sure we’re not the only ones going through craziness, so hopefully this makes someone else feel a little less like life is attacking just them.
It has been A DAY. I knew I was going to have to take our puppy to the vet today, so I gave him a bath this morning. That’s always an event because he really hates it. My bathroom and I were completely soaked by the end of it. No big deal, I expected it. I took him to the vet, which is all still very no contact and my phone kept doing weird things when they tried to call me about him. But, he did good and we went and picked up my lunch from one of my favorite local restaurants and headed home. He was kind of upset and threw up in the car on the way home… not on the towel I had put down for him in the passenger seat. He laid his head over the console and puked right between it and the driver’s seat. I got home and tried to clean it, but I absolutely cannot reach it. My daughter wasn’t laying down for nap like she was supposed to be when I got home. She was procrastinating and being extra difficult. She had a meltdown over something ridiculous and this stubborn mama was not about to let her win that fight, so it escalated pretty quickly and before you know it we’re screaming at each other… (she is so much like me it’s scary sometimes, so we butt heads a lot.) Anyway, that happened. When she finally got to sleep, I calmed down, read some scripture, and decided that the first half of my day would not dictate the rest of it. When she woke up she was much more pleasant, and we ended up going to a small birthday gathering for some family. She had fun. When we got home, I was going to show my husband the dog puke in the car, and he told me that the garage door broke and wouldn’t go down. He looked at what was wrong with it and decided to tackle it after dinner. We went in and I started chopping garlic for our famous filet and brown butter (I don’t want to talk about how much my husband paid for steak the other day. We HAVE to eat it.) I was halfway through chopping the second clove when he looked at me and said, “We don’t have any salted butter.” Okay, plan B. We would have steak frites instead. He pulled out the brand new bag of potatoes that had never been opened… they were gross. Okay, plan C – we’re eating out. So, he put in a mobile order at Texas Roadhouse and went to pick it up. While he was gone, I let the dog out and he ran around the house. I went after him, because he’s notorious for pooping in the neighbors’ yard and finding the stinkiest thing he can find and rolling in it. My daughter came running out the front door and I yelled at her to go put some shoes on if she was coming outside. I go around to the dog, and after a few minutes I wondered where my daughter was. Just then, she came around the house barefoot screaming because she couldn’t find me. I decided to just let the whole “no shoes” thing slide, I was over arguing for the day. We have a few potted herbs out back and they looked kind of sad, so I offered to let her help water them. I got the hose and we sprayed them down, and the dog tried to eat the water, so he was soaked. I went to turn off the water and roll up the hose and I noticed a wasp on the hose reel. I backed up and waited a minute until I didn’t see it anymore, then went over and turned off the water. As I started to roll up the hose, the wasp flew at me and bumped into my arm. I started freaking out (I know… the opposite of what you’re supposed to do.) My daughter came over to see what was going on and that wasp stung her on the arm. So I’m holding a hysterical three year old trying to wrangle a wet puppy into the house. We finally made it in and we washed the sting and then put ice on it. She was a trooper, and I was so proud of how she handled it. Dinner was delicious and ended up being kind of like a special treat since we don’t eat that kind of thing all the time. After we got our daughter in bed, I went outside with my husband and offered moral support while he fixed the garage door (I tried to actually help at one point, but my arms are about as strong as a wet noodle, so I was no help.) We came in at like 10 PM just absolutely exhausted from the day. Now I’m drinking some sleepy time tea listening to him play on the acoustic guitar and all I can think of is how blessed we are.
Yes, today was crazy and exhausting and a ton of stuff went wrong. But you know what? A ton of stuff went right, too. Our dog is healthy and has had his first round of vaccinations. I had a really delicious lunch. Our daughter is healthy and growing and becoming her own person. We have a great, reliable car that gets us where we need to go. The dog puke didn’t really smell bad, haha 😆. My daughter and I got to spend some time with family we haven’t seen in so long. We had a delicious dinner and were blessed enough to have the money to buy it. My husband is a genius and knows how to fix garage doors, so we didn’t have to call someone and have them come out. So many blessings sprouted from all the craziness.


There were so many days, weeks, months last year that I longed for these kinds of things to be the only sort of thing I had to worry about. In the midst of despair, mourning, and helplessness, dog puke would have seemed like a minor inconvenience – nothing at all. And that’s kind of been my point of view today. It’s alright. God is still good. We are still infinitely blessed.

The days.

Motherhood is the absolute weirdest thing. When I first became a mama, I swear I really couldn’t see an end to the constant nursing sessions, the worry over the duration and frequency of my baby’s sleep, the continual state of fatigue. I thought I was miserable. I thought I wanted my life back. I’ve briefly mentioned before that I probably had some PPD for a few months after my daughter was born. I was not a nice person. My emotions were all over the place, the lack of sleep was just making me mean, and I felt like a milk-making shell of my former self. I vividly remember looking at myself in the bathroom mirror the day we came home from the hospital and literally jumping with fright because I did not recognize the person looking back at me. I thought I physically looked like a different person. It was probably a combination of post natal weight loss (I lost like 19 pounds that first couple of weeks after only gaining 14 with the baby), hormones, and residual drug hangover from the almost full-body anesthesia I received during my c-section. Whatever it was, it was the weirdest feeling in the world. I just felt like I wasn’t me. Those first few months were a whirlwind, but they also seemed to drag on forever.
I was thinking about this the other day, how each week was a milestone with a new baby, and seven more days felt like an eternity. Each week seemed like it brought so much change with her, and she grew so fast. Every week, every month, felt like a birthday. In the span of her short life on earth so far, a month was pretty much her whole life. It was like time was soooo slow those first few months while I was in them, but now looking back, they felt fast. It’s funny how we remember things differently after the fact than how they felt at the time. Is this some sort of God-given gift (curse?) so that we won’t remember how horrible it was and do it again? I’ve heard many women talk about this phenomenon. In John 16:21, Jesus says, “When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.” It’s always been a thing. When I got to the hospital after my water broke, the nurses were working on me and talking to me, and I looked at my husband, terrified, and said, “I don’t want to do this anymore. I changed my mind.” It was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. No amount of reading, talking with people, learning, could have really prepared me for what I was getting ready to experience. I was terrified. And yet, women have been doing the exact same thing since the beginning. And they’ve had sorrow because their hour has come, just like I did. And then they forgot all about that when their tiny, precious human life is in their hands.

Not the photo that prompted this post, but I still look happy in this one too!

Anyway, this whole post started because I recently saw a picture of myself holding my sweet girl, who was only a few months old. If you had asked me at the time that picture was taken, I would have told you I had never been more miserable in my life. I was tired, I was constantly worried about everything, I hated breastfeeding (which made me feel terrible, persistent guilt), I had no clue who I was outside of feeding, changing, and sleeping. Sure, I loved my sweet girl more than anything, but I was miserable. But looking at myself in that picture, I’ve never looked happier. Now that I look back, I long for that feeling of being needed every second of every day. I miss being able to fully nourish my child with my own body. I was so happy and I didn’t even know it. I know that makes zero sense, and to someone who’s not a mama, it may be incomprehensible. But that’s what motherhood is. And I suspect it’s still happening. I said the other day that I know these are the “good old days.” I know I’ll long for these days again, just as I long for those first miserable moments of motherhood. Even though right now it feels like I’m dredging through the days, I’ll realize I was happy. Ugh, it’s so hard. Really living in the moment is so hard. Appreciating what we have right now is sometimes so hard. But if we want to live a joyful life, it’s exactly what we need to do. Choosing joy is the hard thing, but the best thing.

Edited to add that as I reread this post to publish it tonight, I needed the reminder. Sweet girl has had some especially rough days recently – she’s been obstinate, rude, forgotten her manners, yelled, skipped naps, gone to bed late… all the things. These are the days, even when they are hard.

Year.

I’ve been trying to figure out what to write about, I haven’t posted anything to my blog since early November. For some reason, I just don’t have the words right now. I’ve been trying to live in the moment, even if these are not the moments I pictured myself having this year. I know this year has taken a toll on everyone’s souls. I know everyone feels heavy. And I’d like to say good riddance to this year as much as anybody out there. But, I can’t help but think that a number on the calendar is not going to change anything. Yes, we will be entering another year, but what will change from the last day of 2020 to the first day of 2021? What will change literally overnight? Nothing really. Just some number that we assigned to a specific amount of time. Maybe it’s a refresh that we need mentally. Maybe I’ll feel better than I think I will. But, one thing is constant and I’m so very thankful – God’s love for us never changes.

How precious is your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They feast on the abundance of your house, and you give them drink from the river of your delights. For with you is the fountain of life; in your light do we see light.
Psalm 36:7-9

Ugh. It’s been almost two weeks since I went to God’s word and wrote in my journal, and probably even longer since I actually talked to God. I don’t know what my deal is – this whole year has been a spiritual struggle. I think that’s why I was drawn to this passage as I read today.

I looked up the word steadfast: “resolutely or dutifully firm and unwavering,” “not subject to change,” “loyal,” “firmly fixed in place; immovable.” That describes God’s love for us. It is PRECIOUS. And the fact that time and time again I let distractions, lies, and apathy make me look away from this perfect love – that makes me angry. I’m angry at satan for attacking me, but that’s just what he does. I’m even more angry at myself for falling for the same old things over and over again; I’m mad at myself for not being steadfast, even when God is. I’m angry that I can’t stay focused enough on His perfect love to fully appreciate it. Thank God that His love is perfected in my weakness, because man am I weak.
God gives us everything we need and then more because he loves us. I love my daughter and I want to show her that love. Sure, I could cater to her basic physical and emotional needs and she would be fine. But, I want to love her abundantly. I want her to know that I would do anything for her. I want to make life beautiful for her. And that’s exactly what God wants for us. He gives us food, shelter, clothing, sure, but He wants us to live and love abundantly too. He didn’t have to give us the amazing amount of flavors and textures of food for us to subsist. He didn’t have to make colors or seasons or different hair types for us to live. But He did those things because He wanted us to see His beauty, His love for us. But, if we lose our focus, it’s easy to overlook these things, these “everyday miracles.” Only when we seek Him can we fully recognize His beauty.

In other “news,” if you’ve been following my blog, you know that a while back I put out into the world that I had been feeling kind of creative, but apprehensive about getting started. My sweetheart of a husband is the best. For Christmas, he got me a new sketchbook with pens and a tablet with a stylus. I made the pink graphic above using an app on my tablet and transferring my handwriting from there into an image I created on Canva.com. I’m excited to see what else I can do with my new toys. I’ve drawn more in the last few days than I have probably in my whole life.

Fires.

You all, I went into panic mode major yesterday. I got on the good ole Instagram to post this photo, and couldn’t find it. Ever since I had put an SD card into my phone, Instagram has had some issues pulling things from my phone’s gallery, so at first I didn’t think anything of it. But I went in and searched for it like I normally do in the SD card memory and it wasn’t there. I got to looking and a ton of my pictures were missing, like THOUSANDS of pictures. The SD card that had been about half full now said that almost all the memory was empty. I was FREAKING OUT. I was trying to stay calm hoping that somehow my husband could save the day when he got home from work. I then remembered that we had downloaded the Amazon photos app just a few weeks ago and had backed up our photos to that. The day was saved, right? Not quite. When I opened the app, all it was showing me were the same photos my phone said I had… just a couple hundred, not the thousands we had backed up. Well, I was totally freaked out then, and noticed that my phone was getting really hot. So, I took out the SD card and put it into my computer… it still said there was hardly anything on it. At this point, I was really trying to come to terms with the fact that I may had lost all my pictures of our life from the last year and a half (I had backed up earlier ones before this on a physical hard drive). All I had were the ones I had posted on Facebook. But, after removing the SD card from my phone, I closed all the apps, prayed, then opened the Amazon photo app again. They were all there except the ones taken after September 10th of this year. I was so ecstatic. I guess something happened that day, and I’m glad I caught it when I did.

When hubby got home he found a program online to scan the SD card and found (I think, I’m kind of afraid to look) all of my photos and videos hidden in the “free space” of the card. Yeah, I’m not using that anymore. Ugh.

A few days ago, I saw two different instances where local families’ houses had burned down and they had lost everything. I had already been thinking about the people affected by the wildfires out west, how horrible it would be to literally lose everything I own. Then, I saw some pictures from Rachael Ray’s [the TV chef. I sort of love her a lot!] home. Her house burned down several months ago from a fireplace fire, and she shared photos of the devastation as the new season of her show started. I cried. I can’t imagine losing everything. I mean, I know that everyone says, “as long as everyone is okay, it’s just stuff, it can be replaced.” And that’s true. People are far more important than any earthly thing. However, family heirlooms are not replaceable; your kids’ artwork and handmade gifts are not replaceable; your favorite book you’ve read a million times over the years that is worn in just the right way is not replaceable. These things are just lost. It got me thinking about life and how sometimes we need spiritual fires to make us move. Sometimes we have to be shaken and our world has to be turned upside down for us to wake up, to see things with fresh eyes, and to get up and move. When I’m really comfy on the couch, I don’t want to move; I’m perfectly content to be where I am and have no intention of moving until I absolutely have to. I’ve found out the hard way lately that life isn’t comfortable, and when we start to think we might be comfortable, change comes charging in before we ever know what hit us. It turns over the couch and throws us into the floor. Life is hard. I’ll say that again because it’s so stinking true: LIFE. IS. HARD.

All these “sayings” that you hear about life being about more than stuff, about how time goes so quickly, about how we’re never guaranteed tomorrow… those came from wise people. Those came from people who have lived it and know what they’re talking about. Those came from a place of love, trying to spare us from making the same mistakes and taking the same things for granted that they did. But for whatever reason, we humans seem to be inherently stubborn, and we think we know better. We have to find out for ourselves what we’ve heard all along. And it hurts. It’s so painful. And some people never realize it until it’s too late.

I know pictures are also just things, but they are more than that: they are irreplaceable reminders of memories that might otherwise fade. I’m so, so thankful that my hubby seemingly was able to recover them. My heart breaks for people who have lost tangible pieces of their lives and memories in fires or by other natural disasters.

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith- more precious than gold that perishes in fire – may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

1 Peter 1:6&7

I feel like in reference to this passage, “a little while” could be considered most of our earthly lives, because compared to eternity, it is in fact just a little while. This is our refining time, and being refined is often hard and painful. But, we can still rejoice in our grieving because of who God is and what He’s done for us, and is still doing for us every day. We can walk through hardships giving praise and honor and glory to Christ, because He has already overcome everything that we are facing. And I’m not saying that this life is all terrible by any means, because it’s not. God gives us daily, minute to minute reminders of how much He loves us and cares for us in the people we love, the beautiful sky, the wonder of nature, and so much more. We just have to slow down to really appreciate them.

Iniquity.

According to Merriam-Webster, the definition of the word “iniquity” is a “gross injustice, a wicked act or thing, sin.” As I researched, some of the more “Christian-based” definitions went as far as saying that it was a deliberate choice to go against God and his laws.

When iniquities prevail against me, you atone for our transgressions.

Psalm 65:3

I have an abundance of iniquities – more lately than my usual amount, which is more than plenty. I’ve been unfocused and easily distracted, avoiding my Bible and prayer time all together, cranky, selfish, and lazy – just to name a few. I have not been in a good place emotionally or spiritually. I just haven’t.

It is so comforting for me to know that the God who made gorgeous mountains and roaring seas also made me. Not only that, but knowing I was going to be the way I am right now, knowing the sin in my heart, He also still forgave me; He still made a way for me to be saved. He has already atoned for my transgressions. The other amazing part, to me, is that long before Jesus physically came to Earth to be hung on a cross, David already knew the forgiveness of God; he already knew that God saves His children because He loves us so much.

I’ve been letting my “iniquities prevail” lately. Life is hard, and instead of hitting the floor with my knees and handing it over to God, I’ve been putting my head down, glazing over, and just floating through each moment to get it over with. This is a hard time in my life, the hardest I’ve faced yet, but it is still part of my life. I can’t just close myself off and wait until the storm passes; I might be waiting for years. And I can’t get those years back, I can’t do them over. They will be wasted. Yeah, life really sucks, it’s hard, and satan seems to have a new surprise around every corner. Everyone goes through hard times. What we do with it is what makes us ourselves. Do we let our iniquities keep prevailing, or do we start living like we know a God who has already atoned for our transgressions because He loves us so much?

That second thing? That’s living abundantly, and it’s exactly what God wants for us.

Refining.

So, those of you who read my last blog post know that satan was testing us after we made a commitment to tithe regularly. Well, just as He promised, God was faithful. My husband gets a commission check on top of his regular salary, which is already amazing. It allows me to only work part-time and still stay home with baby girl. Well, his last commission check was SEVERAL HUNDRED dollars more than usual. Don’t tell me for a second that wasn’t orchestrated. We are never without what we need. We are abundantly blessed. Anyway, the following is from a few weeks ago, but God laid it on my heart to talk about it tonight.

(6) In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, (7) so that the tested genuineness of your faith – more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire – may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Christ. (8) Though you have not seen Him, you love Him. Though you do not now see Him, you believe in Him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, (9) obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.

1 Peter 1:6-9

Sunday night I was looking for a verse to help motivate me for the upcoming week and stumbled upon this passage. I wrote myself a note to look specifically at verse 8 again, but when I opened my bible this whole passage really spoke to me. If we’re looking for a reason for all the bad things that happen to us, this is it. “Getting through” the trials of our lives is usually all we strive for because it’s miserable and we can’t wait for whatever it is to go away. What if instead we looked at trials as a chance to put our faith into action? What if instead of focusing on how bad our life is and feeling sorry for ourselves, we looked for opportunities to use it for God’s purpose, to show God’s love, and to strengthen our own faith? I had never thought of my faith in God as more precious and stronger than gold.

And then there’s verse 8. Only when you have truly experienced Christ can you understand this verse, I believe. I think this is what the world has so much trouble understanding about Christians. No, I haven’t physically seen Jesus, but man have I seen Him at work in my life. Yeah, some days (okay, actually, every day) it would be so much easier to follow Him if He were physically standing next to me giving me a play-by-play on what to do and say next. I would LOVE that. But, that’s just not how He operates. He loves us enough to give us freedom, and with that freedom comes lots and lots of choices. The inexpressible joy comes from following Him and seeing that His way is the best way; it comes from knowing that we are free, but we are not alone – He’s holding us every step of the way.Verse 9 didn’t speak to me much at first, but as I read it again I began to better understand. Our faith is just that – it’s our own. Jesus died for every single one of us, but it’s our own faith that determines the outcome. That’s why our faith is more precious than gold and why it has to be tested and refined. Seeking God is always important, but it is especially important in times when it seems hardest. Those are the times when God is really working on our hearts. If we’re just “getting by”, we will miss it.