Back to school, back to school...

Between work, friends, family, and anniversaries, I've been learning some things recently. Are you seated? Ok, good, because it's a long one.

Quick Background

In case you didn't know, I'm an extravert, which means that I like people. I like spending time with people and talking to people, a lot! Then there's Danny. He's an introvert, which means that he likes being by himself. I love this man dearly but he will be the first person to tell you that people are not what makes his world go round.

Community

After Jonathan passed, Danny and I stepped out of church and community group because we needed space to grieve and just be. We spent some much needed time together and it was glorious. In those following days and weeks I found myself experiencing emotions, which isn't really normal for me. You see, I've always been the strong one emotionally, the one everyone comes to for help, the one everyone relies on to carry them through. That really didn't leave me a lot of space for my emotions and I was good with my role. Losing my son helped me to see that I needed to experience anger and hurt and pain and sorrow, that I needed to share these emotions and have them validated.

Instead of turning to others, I turned to my husband. He really provided the space for me to be open, to be honest, and to actually feel. The first time I cried he smiled at me and told me how good it was that I was experiencing emotions. He was even more excited when I shared my anger because it meant I was real! It was so good for us to focus on each other. It built an even greater foundation than the one we already had, and I gained a much deeper respect for introverts.

After a year, my extroverted tendencies started to return. I started realizing that I do need some other people in my life. As we're not in church on Sunday mornings I've realized I need opportunities to intentionally talk about Jesus. There are questions that I still wrestle with, like how in the world prayer works and how I know who God is and yet still have moments where I feel like I don't get it. Church for me is now having these discussions with friends, talking freely and being able to share opinions without being judged.

In the process of spending more time with people outside of my husband, I'm learning that boundaries are important. There was something beautiful that we built in the last year and it's not something either of us wants to lose. I see how easily I can go back to busy tendencies and it's still hard for me to say no to people. I'm learning that friendships are important, but our marriage is worth building boundaries for our protection.

Fitness. Exercise. Healthy eating.

This section is frustrating. Weight has always been something I've been keenly aware of in my life. I was an athletic kid and played two sports in high school, but I never felt confident with my body. Then there was Texas and the internship, where I had no self-control and ate everything that I was given. Did I mention I also sat on my butt for 6-8 hours every day? Yeah, recipe for disaster. Hello freshman 15! I was super excited when I came home for college and walked everywhere, had the ability to watch my portions, and was able to eat fresh vegetables and salads. I was excited to have time to exercise and returned to my high school weight.

Fast forward 7 years. I got sick before a friends wedding and hit the smallest number on the scale I've ever seen. It was fabulous! And it didn't last. I went back to holding steady at my high school weight. Not a number that I love and one that I'm always interested in improving.

Then there's this amazing season where I got pregnant and had these gross feelings where food was the only thing that made me feel better. I wasn't trying to eat everything in sight, but man, there were days when I was so hungry. I wasn't really concerned about gaining weight. That's just what happens when you get pregnant, right?!

The crappy part about having a child that dies is dealing with the weight that sticks around because it's a constant reminder of what I lost. A few pounds came off within a couple months but not what I was hoping for. Even though Danny bought me a FitBit for my birthday almost a year ago, I still struggle with my weight. I recognize that I haven't been the most disciplined or motivated person when it comes to eating right and moving my body. I'm back to sitting behind a desk again, which definitely doesn't help the situation. I've seen smaller numbers, but most days it's a number I really don't like.

I question this weight a lot. Am I unable to lose it because it's connected to Jonathan, or because I don't like myself, or just because it's a normal part of a post-pregnancy body? I'm starting to think through the emotions that are part of weight loss and learning about how I'm affected by them.

Writing

Once upon a time... that's how I should start, right? Fore score and seven years ago... a little more formal? How about we sit down over a cup of coffee and share life? There's a part of my heart, bigger than I'm comfortable sharing these days, that would be overjoyed to do that. There's this project that I've been working on for longer than I care to share (months... oh fine, years), and it's ready to be completed. There's so, so much that I don't know, so much that I have to learn in order to make it worthwhile. Part of it is continually learning how to write and how to make it real. This probably includes being a little more emotional and vulnerable than I'm ready for at times but I see the greatness that real life brings and I want to be part of it. So learning about this journey of writing and self-publishing (yep, there it is) is part of this season.

What about you? What are you learning?

Happy Birthday Jonathan

I remember being so happy when you born. In the midst of you not being alive, not breathing, I remember such a peace and joy about your birth. It was this long awaited thing and there was so much wrapped up in it because of your birth defects and diagnosis. But you were absolutely beautiful. This perfect little person. And there was great joy in who you were. Nothing else mattered except that you were with us. 

Happy Birthday little man. You are loved beyond words. We wish we had more time with you and can't wait for heaven.

The promise

Suffering sucks. It's not nice or fun. It hurts.

A wise man helped me this week to understand that Jonathan is my first real tragedy. There have been other troubles in my life, hard times, but his life is the one that has rocked me to the core. I've been resting for the past 9 months, and that has been so good. As I keep living though, there was the realization that there is work that needs to be done. There is discontentment with the outcome that changes the relationship. This friend talked about the grief wall, hitting that place that rocks our core. The choice we make about whether we process and walk through it, or back away from it, affects our lives forever.

As I'm processing this morning I thought about how we're promised suffering in the Bible. God doesn't ever paint a world for us that doesn't involve suffering. He's straightforward with us. What I find so lovely though is the end of the sentence.

"I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world." John 16:33

Learning how to trust again means going back to His truth. It means looking at the black and white that I knew and figuring out what it looks like in the midst of gray. It's not a place of clear cut answers. It's a place of wrestling. I'm thankful that God is ok with my wrestling, probably really likes it actually because it means time with Him and that's really what He's excited about.

Are you wrestling? Do you know someone who's wrestling? I encourage you to be real, to be honest, to question things, and to respect the answers of those you don't agree with. We can't be afraid of open discourse where we might end up at different places.

Honest wrestling

I've struggled with knowing how to pray for a while now. I've come to this new understanding of the Lord, and it's pretty great because his love has been magnified. I get him now more than ever in my life. That changes the way I pray because I know that I'm His daughter and He wants my best more than I do.

So today I'm journaling (read processing and/or praying) and thinking about how we're not content and don't have these things we desire and wondering about how to pray for them. That's when I realize that part of why I don't know how to pray anymore is because as much as I know this God of mine and His amazing goodness, I may not actually trust Him as much as I used to. There's this whole problem with my son dying that I have to come to terms with.

We prayed for his healing, for all the defects in his little body to be complete and whole. But it didn't happen. The weirdest part is that I don't blame God because I know the truth about living in a fallen world and I believe that God wanted Jonathan with us more than we did. But more than ever before I realize how it has affected my faith and my prayer life. I don't trust Him to answer like I used to.

I have been blessed with the gift of faith, but I'm not sure where it's at right now. So that affects how I pray, what I ask for, or whether I ask at all. I'm able to say thank you but there's a lack of faith that I'm not sure how to fix right now.

Funny enough, I'd rather be in this place of wrestling to figure it out than without Him. I can't deny Him. He's still rooted deep within my soul, but this is an effect I haven't dealt with yet.

I can only encourage you to be real about your faith and your questions. It may not be fun, but I'm believing that it's worth it.

Forever

He's still part of me. He still affects my emotions, my feelings, and my actions. What I'm able to do, able to give, has changed. I think it's for a season, but I'm not positive. I recognize my limitations now more than ever before. Today I had to acknowledge my inabilities. I kind of hate them, but I have to recognize that they are real. 

I can't be at a friends baby shower. 

I can't meet a friends new baby. 

I can't attend a camp and give fully of myself. 

I can trust The Lord for restoration. I can rely on Him for hope when I feel like mine get smashed against the rocks. Like this week when I thought there was a chance, but a test told me there was no such thing. 

I'm learning to be honest with myself, with my emotions, and with others. I'm still learning how to trust others to care enough, how to be vulnerable. I'm learning how to not protect everyone else and to care about myself a little bit more. I'm learning what I need, what my heart truly desires. I'm also learning to do the things my heart beats for. 

Jonathan is in my subconscious all of the time and I'm thankful for the moments when he's allowed in the conscious. I am ony strong because I find my strength in The Lord, because I am allowing Him to touch and mold this horrible loss. 

Safe place

A woman gave her testimony at church this week, one of brokenness. My story is not like hers, but she brought hope. Jesus is hope. 

I'm different. The way I live is different. The way I interact with others is different. The way I interact with Jesus is different. I haven't known exactly what to do with all of that, especially as we figure out church. Being in this place on Sunday though, with this body of believers who were surrounding this woman with love and grace: I was safe. I cried. And cried. And cried. I cried like I haven't in months. I cried like I didn't know I needed to. I cried because I felt safe to cry, safe to let it all out. I didn't talk to anyone. I didn't receive any hugs or prayer. I just met Jesus. 

Jesus is hope. Though my faith has not waivered, though I stand firm in what I believe, how I interact with that truth has changed. And yet Jesus met me there. He is my hope. He heals the brokenhearted. Psalm 56:8 says that he keeps track of every sorrow and collects all my tears. Isaiah 53:4 says that he has borne our grief and carried our sorrow. Matthew 5:4 says blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted. 

Jesus is hope, my hope. He will restore me. He will heal my broken heart. He will walk with me and carry me. He will not fail me. He will not forget me. Though I may have forgotten these words, He never left me. 

Do not give up. There is hope for restoration, for your future. Your mourning will turn into laughter, your sorrow into joy. Mine hasn't yet, not completely, but I know in whom my hope resides. I know I am safe in His arms, and so are you. I praise God today for time to weep and time to worship. 

Be

Do you have ever have that feeling where you need to vent your feelings? And it's not enough to vent them to a journal? I have this nagging feeling that I need to put out there for the world some of what's going on within me.

It seems strange, even to me, that the most recent things I have written still revolve around grief. Then I remember that it's only been 6 months and I don't feel so odd.

My experience. That's the only one I can share fully. I'm sure it's different, but maybe for someone it's similar. Maybe it provides hope to someone. Maybe it helps someone to see that they're not cracked. I know I feel it sometimes.

If you know me, you know that I am a shell of the person I used to be. My life before this time consisted of people. My nights, my weekends, my every waking moment was lived planning and scheduling people into my life. My husband was affected by this, but I didn't realize it. I was living the life I'd always lived, feeding off the relationships I was pouring into. I felt needed and probably didn't know the word "no." I didn't see any problem with this. I enjoyed it.

Today my world is drastically different, and I couldn't be happier. I find myself still speaking truth into people's lives, but only on occasion. It is no longer my desire to be surrounded by others. I enjoy nights like the one I'm currently in, where I sit with my husband and have a chat on the balcony listening to the Blues station my dad shared. I find peace in just being. I need rest after time with people, especially those who do not know the story. I am not myself in groups. I hold back, disengaging when I used to thrive.

I can't tell you the exact reason for the change though I have an idea. I do know the timing of the change. I'm thankful for the time, for the ability to process and feel in ways I never have before. As I see lives move on around me though, sometimes I feel stuck. I desire the things I'm missing. I listen to parents. I see babies. I experience greater joy upon birth than ever before, and yet the deepest sadness.

Some people get mad at God, or frustrated. I have no anger toward the one who created me. I know who He is. I know He's good and faithful. Even though my life looks nothing like what it used to, and there are things I greatly desire, He is not at fault for not having them. We live in a sinful, fallen world and there are crazy effects of that. They suck. They make life difficult at times. That doesn't change my Father though. And even though my relationship with Him looks drastically different than ever before, I'm so thankful that He hasn't changed.

Know that you're not alone. Know that He's got great plans for you. He loves you ever so dearly and wants your absolute best. He wants to hold you, walk with you, and take your worries. There is nothing in this life that will fulfill you like Him, and there is no place that will provide rest like Him. You are not crazy. You are not strange. Know Him, and be.