Yesterday

Yesterday, 2 significant events occurred. One near, and one, at least in physical miles, far from home. Both caused me to lie awake last night, despite my fairly exhausted state, resulting from a 7 week old who refused to go to bed last night. 

Yesterday I texted this to a friend in regards to the protest happening outside NHS, my former place of employment. "It's a difficult situation. I feel one way as a teacher. I feel another way as a mom and even another as just a woman you know?"

A question I struggled with last night was "By teaching Olivia to never put herself in a situation where she isn't in control of her body, am I contributing to rape culture?" 

Then I started thinking about Ferguson. Not too far back I found myself on the receiving end of some pretty heated comments when I mentioned on a local news' social media that I encourage my students to always comply with police officers commands regardless of their perception of the situation because I would rather see them temporarily handcuffed then see them dead. 

I then proceeded to tell myself that I would teach Olivia the same thing. Then, I recalled that recently in Oklahoma a police officer has been accused of sexually assaulting women. What if Olivia were to become a victim because her mother taught her to always listen to police officers?

These are just examples of what I wrestled with as I struggled to ultimately comprehend the "truth". 

And here is what finally allowed me to sleep. I believe the following to be true. MY beliefs:

- We experience pain, loss, injustice, guilt, and fear as a result of living in a fallen world 

(I am hesitant to type this one because I know it will hit a nerve with many of you but I believe it) 

- Today, if I lie or have an impure thought, I am just as imperfect as someone who commits rape or murder 

- God offers forgiveness and hope to EVERYONE regardless of their skin color, their past, their income, their age, etc. 

I will share these beliefs with Olivia. I will also encourage her not to walk alone at night. 

I also hope that she will grow up and form her own beliefs. That she will lie awake at night and wrestle with her conscience. I hope that someday she feels passionately about a cause and brings awareness to it in a way that she can be proud of. 

We may not agree. I don't know how we could, seeing as how I'm not even sure I know where I stand at any given moment on these issues. But I hope we can continue to be friends. 

Good night! 

Confessions From the Chest

This is a post about breastfeeding. Although it's probably not the kind you're thinking of. This isn't a "Breast is Best!" rally cry, or a petition for support because I've experienced a complication and have subsequently had to rely on formula and now feel like a failed mommy as a result. I only say that because I've read those blogs, and my heart breaks for both the women who pass these judgements, and those who fill ridiculed by them. My two cents: Feed your baby.


No, this is a post about what I've learned this past week as a result of breastfeeding.

1. Incredible bladder control. Enough said.

2. How to pick up almost anything with my toes. This includes the ability to type in my passcode with my toes while my dropped phone is on the floor. I'm strongly considering auditioning for America's Got Talent next season.

3. The true meaning of 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.

16 Rejoice always, 17 pray without ceasing, 18 give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

I once went through a phase where I was mad at God. I vowed I would pray for others, "I have a big test next week, pray for me?" "Sure!" but would not petition God for anything on my own behalf. How ignorant was I to think that communing with God about others was some how separate from communion with God?

I feel like I learned that prayer has a defined beginning and ending. It starts with "Dear Heavenly Father" and ends when we say "Amen."

This past week I've truly learned how to pray. Stream of consciousness, worshiping, Word reflecting, prayer. In the wee hours of the morning I've learned to cry out to Jesus in a way that I believe we were always meant to.

The hardest thing has been not sleeping in my own bed. My body, tired and broken, wants nothing more than to be held and comforted. One of my many "mantras" this week  has been "Jesus you are holding me, even when my husband can't." And by the power of prayer, I've truly felt God's arms wrapped around me, loving me through this.

There have been times when I'm at my wits end on how to comfort my baby girl. I've stood over her, hands outstretched, and repeated over and over again "Peace and sleep for my baby girl" I wish I could say that divinely each time she stopped stirring and fell into a tranquil sleep, but my faith is not shaken, for God is still teaching me to give thanks in ALL circumstances.

There are so many of you out there in Facebook land whom I have prayed for this past week. Some of you we have not spoken in years, but you have found your way into my heart as I've burned the midnight oils. I hope, no matter what your beliefs, radical or none at all, that you've felt just a little less burdened and little more loved this week.

Now excuse me...Olivia's ready to eat again :)

Grace

My dearest Olivia,

Let's talk about your middle name for a second: Grace. I once heard grace defined as "receiving something you don't deserve."
You, my love, are grace personified. God looked upon me, with all my inequities, knowing full well that I will fail as your mommy time and time again, yet He gave me you anyways.

Then there's the expression "grace under pressure." Little one I hope and pray your life is full of pressures. For it's these moments that will define you.

As a lady, this world will tell you that you should be "graceful". Please know that this will be some people's way of demanding that you to sit quietly and be neat. Darling girl, be loud. Be messy. Be you.

I love your little personality already. Some of the very same things that excite me, excite you: the sound of your daddy's voice, sweet tea, and cinnamon rolls ;)

We wait, sometimes patiently, other times not so much, for you to "grace us with your presence."

All my love,

Mommy

Men Among Men

My best friend Bekah's grandfather passed away recently. Bekah and I have had many conversations about how blessed she was to have such a close relationship with her grandparent's when so many never get the chance to meet theirs.

I, too, was very blessed, in that not only did I get to meet Abba, but had the chance to develop a relationship with him and his wife Nana.

Abba and Nana were one of the two most in love people I've ever met.

Last night I attended Abba's wake and was honored to sit beside Bekah and amongst her family. Bekah's brother Chris spoke beautifully about Abba and how he appreciated silence.

I distinctly remember the firs time I brought Will to the Scaperlanda house where he met Nana and Abba. They were smitten with him, and Will was smitten with them.

I find that my own William, holds this endearing quality of silence. He is often described as shy, but he, like Abba, knows that sometimes life is to be appreciated in pure reverence.

Abba was faithful to the very end in his relationship with Christ and served others wholeheartedly.
Today I was reflecting on a telephone conversation Will and I had after our first date. Will asked me if I had ever read the book "The Shack". For those of you who don't know, the story is about a man and his faith in Jesus Christ. I had read it and we talked for a long time about the book. At the time, I found it cute and endearing that Will and I had something in common, but looking back now I see that it was the beginning of Will's gentle way of leading our relationship spiritually and sharing with me his humble and simple faith.

Two gentle and beautiful souls, Abba and my William.

The Question on Everybody's Mind

Being pregnant requires great vulnerability. Not only are you LITERALLY sharing your body with another human being, but you're required to tell a LOT of different people a LOT about you. Luckily, for those of you that know me, this isn't really a problem for me.

I do find it interesting that the first question most people ask is "Was this baby planned?" And I think it's important to Will and I that people know what we believe.

We believe this baby was planned before the beginning of time.

We believe, that while we still do not know if he is a he, or if she is a she, that this baby's name is written on the palms of Jesus Christ.

And we believe that when He died on the cross, He was thinking of our baby.

We also know that these beliefs are radical and that many of you do not share these beliefs. And we hope that you know we love you all the same.

For us, this process can not be explained any other way than as a miracle. And for us, this process requires great faith. Faith that is sometimes beyond human understanding.

So, yes this baby was planned and we will continue to make BIG plans for the future. We hope that regardless of what you believe, that you will continue to celebrate, share your wisdom, and love this baby with us.

Faith

There are hard days.

Then there are days that bring you to your knees.

I believe that God is good.

I believe that all things serve a purpose for His glory.

I believe that pain and suffering is a result of sin and does not reflect the nature of God.

But there are hard days.

And there are days that bring you to your knees.

And then there are days when you want to ask God what the hell He's doing.

       I married a man who could be the text book definition of faith. When I think of Will, I think of 2 Corinthians 5:7, "For we live by faith, not sight." I, on the other hand, have always wrestled with God. More like a 2 Corinthians 13:5 kind of girl,  "Examine yourselves to see not whether you are in the faith; test yourselves. Do you not realize that Christ Jesus is in you ---unless, of course, you fail the test?" 

Today, I watched a young man cry over things that no 17 year old boy should ever have to cry over, or even think about. Tonight, that image continues to fill my head, and my heart breaks. And I want to shake my fists at God and ask Him "Why?" 

But I suppose, since this day has already brought me to my knees, that I will just stay there. And I will pray...

An Open Letter to High School Girls

Dear young ladies,

I love your Halloween costumes.

I love how creative your minds must be to come up with something so clever.

I love how tenacious you must be to painstakingly apply glitter eyeliner in such a perfect way.

I love how colorful your personalities must be to teeter so confidently down the hall in those high heels.

But my dears, please understand something, something it has taken me a LONG time to figure out.

You are NOT beautiful because you have bows adorned about your thighs. YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL BECAUSE YOUR BRILLIANT MINDS CAN CALCULATE  THE QUADRATIC FORMULA EFFORTLESSLY.

You are NOT sexy because you squeezed into a corset. YOU ARE SEXY BECAUSE YOUR KIND HEARTS RAN AHEAD TO HOLD THE DOOR FOR A STRANGER.

You are NOT worthy of attention because your skirt falls just below your butt. YOU ARE WORTHY OF ATTENTION BECAUSE YOUR BODIES ARE ABLE TO RUN AND JUMP AND PLAY AND CREATE THINGS.

I hope today, and every day you realize how truly special you are.

Love,

Me