In shepherd group we answered the question “Have you ever felt completely alone or afraid?”. The question brought to mind one of the darkest times of my life. It was when I was struggling with what was later diagnosed as bi-polar disorder.
I was at a party, having a horrible time and pretending that everything was just fine. It got late and everyone around me had paired up and fallen asleep. I was left alone staring at a computer screen. I’m pretty sure I typed everyone at the party a cryptic e-mail of some sort while I sat there drowning in my own depression – angry that no one cared enough about me to look through my happy mask and see me slowly dying on the inside. I got up and left. I don’t remember waking anyone or saying goodbye. I didn’t know what I was doing I just knew that I had to leave right then. I walked out the door in the hazy pre-dawn light and got into my car and started to drive. I don’t remember many details of that evening, including where it was I drove to. What I do remember is the bridge... and the desire to turn the wheel and step on the gas so the car would go off the bridge and end my pain. As my hands started to steer the car ever so slightly toward the bridge barrier I found myself thinking that it would be just my luck to survive the crash and be paralyzed because then there really would be no way out. Quicker than thought my hands straightened the wheel and as I drove past the bridge and it’s temptation I began to shake. The tremors raced through my body and released a flood of tears. Frustrated and angry at my cowardice and my helplessness I didn’t know what to do, only that this had to stop.
I went through therapy and it has helped me in so many ways. But I still had times where I felt alone. When I met John I had reached a point where I felt that it was time to stop going to therapy. I had gotten off my medications and learned to handle my bi-polar swings before they became extreme. Still, even with all the wonderful things in my life, I feel alone sometimes and afraid and sad. But now that feeling is not complete because I know that God will always be with me no matter what. That He has a plan for me, even if it isn’t mine – and that He loves me so much He will never leave me or forsake me. And because He is a perfect and loving God, I can trust Him when I am afraid to trust anyone else or even myself.
Thinking about that bridge… I am thankful. I am thankful I am not the same girl I was then and that now I can see how Father was with me and how His hand guided me back to the road He meant me to travel instead of off the bridge I had selected.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Loop/Swoop/Pull!
I tend to be a transparent person. And no, it’s not just because I’m so pale you can basically see through me (although that’s true too). I believe that being honest is important. Even if some of the things I’m truthful about are sometimes embarrassing or painful, I feel like if I’m being asked a question, I should give a full and honest answer. The same goes for blogging. Which leads me to today’s transparency.
I used to have a hard time tying my shoes. I mean, when I was little, I remember getting frustrated because I just didn’t get the Loop/Swoop/Pull, Bunny round the tree through the hole lesson. My fingers just couldn’t seem to get it right. And for a long time I wore those lovely Velcro sneakers (enduring classmate ridicule) because I couldn’t get it together enough to tie a pair of shoelaces. Needless to say, once I did get it together – I was a shoe tying fool. I loved my laces.
But then something happened that made me hate the tying. I found that I couldn’t bring my foot to my knee to tie without hauling my foot in both hands to put it up there... I couldn’t get my fat rolls to smoosh enough in order to get my arms around my thunder thighs and allow my short stubby arms reach my shoes… Heaven forbid a lace come untied while out and about with nowhere to sit because there was no way I could get down on one knee and get back up again without having something solid to cling to when I tried to haul myself back up.
So, when I had to wear shoes that tied, I prayed that the laces would stay in their little bows… and when that prayer was answered with a “no”, and I had to tie them I’d look around for somewhere to sit or to raise my foot on so I wouldn’t have to bend down. When I tried to tie the shoes myself, I found that I couldn’t reach far enough around my fat to tie the laces in the center so I would just pull to the side of my body I could reach best and then double knot the laces once I got it done… which would leave me winded, which of course left me embarrassed. Or, if my husband was with me I would pout and hold my foot out to him making him kneel down and tie it. My mom did this with my dad and I always thought it was adorable… until I realized it was necessary for me to do it. Then, it just became an internal embarrassment that I dressed up in the “awwww, aren’t we cute” clothes of routine.
Then, this past Friday as we were in Baltimore with my cousin Brandi and her husband DJ, my shoe came untied. My husband pointed it out to me – and I didn’t lift it towards him and pout. I didn’t even think to try that old trick. No, I raised my foot up (without the use of my hands to haul it towards me) and while standing on one foot - I tied my laces in the center of my shoe – not on the side. I did it as if it were second nature, as if it had never been a problem. I didn’t think about it twice… until my husband expressed pride in the fact that he didn’t have to tie my shoes for me anymore. Embarrassing, yes… a moment I would imagine is akin to someone exclaiming in public “You went potty all by yourself” to a grown person. Do I wish I had never been at that point where it was necessary for him to be proud of me for tying my own shoes? Of course! But you know what? It’s a struggle that I went through and having it called out like that made me remember how much I love my laces! J
I used to have a hard time tying my shoes. I mean, when I was little, I remember getting frustrated because I just didn’t get the Loop/Swoop/Pull, Bunny round the tree through the hole lesson. My fingers just couldn’t seem to get it right. And for a long time I wore those lovely Velcro sneakers (enduring classmate ridicule) because I couldn’t get it together enough to tie a pair of shoelaces. Needless to say, once I did get it together – I was a shoe tying fool. I loved my laces.
But then something happened that made me hate the tying. I found that I couldn’t bring my foot to my knee to tie without hauling my foot in both hands to put it up there... I couldn’t get my fat rolls to smoosh enough in order to get my arms around my thunder thighs and allow my short stubby arms reach my shoes… Heaven forbid a lace come untied while out and about with nowhere to sit because there was no way I could get down on one knee and get back up again without having something solid to cling to when I tried to haul myself back up.
So, when I had to wear shoes that tied, I prayed that the laces would stay in their little bows… and when that prayer was answered with a “no”, and I had to tie them I’d look around for somewhere to sit or to raise my foot on so I wouldn’t have to bend down. When I tried to tie the shoes myself, I found that I couldn’t reach far enough around my fat to tie the laces in the center so I would just pull to the side of my body I could reach best and then double knot the laces once I got it done… which would leave me winded, which of course left me embarrassed. Or, if my husband was with me I would pout and hold my foot out to him making him kneel down and tie it. My mom did this with my dad and I always thought it was adorable… until I realized it was necessary for me to do it. Then, it just became an internal embarrassment that I dressed up in the “awwww, aren’t we cute” clothes of routine.
Then, this past Friday as we were in Baltimore with my cousin Brandi and her husband DJ, my shoe came untied. My husband pointed it out to me – and I didn’t lift it towards him and pout. I didn’t even think to try that old trick. No, I raised my foot up (without the use of my hands to haul it towards me) and while standing on one foot - I tied my laces in the center of my shoe – not on the side. I did it as if it were second nature, as if it had never been a problem. I didn’t think about it twice… until my husband expressed pride in the fact that he didn’t have to tie my shoes for me anymore. Embarrassing, yes… a moment I would imagine is akin to someone exclaiming in public “You went potty all by yourself” to a grown person. Do I wish I had never been at that point where it was necessary for him to be proud of me for tying my own shoes? Of course! But you know what? It’s a struggle that I went through and having it called out like that made me remember how much I love my laces! J
Friday, September 24, 2010
2 Chronicles 15:7 - Reward for your work
2 Chronicles 15:7 (NASB) says: "But you, be strong and do not lose courage, for there is reward for your work."
Sometimes along my journey I want to give up. Okay, often I want to give up - usually daily - right around the time I'm supposed to get out of bed and go to the gym I want to throw in the proverbial towel and call it a day because (as I used to say when I was very young) it's too hard and I'm too little!
But I get up (mainly because I cannot throw money away) and I keep going. That doesn't mean it isn't a struggle or that it isn't a fight because it is. When doubt creeps in the door I tend to fall into my typical cycle. That would be the one where I feel like nothing will ever change and think to myself "well then, why bother!" I get depressed and I pray and often my prayer or it's answer become a silly little blog post where selfishly I pour out words and sometimes gain some perspective in the process.
But 2 Chronicles 15:7 tells me that for my work there is a reward... and with this weight loss the only reward I have ever expected was to lose weight and have the physical body that God intended for me to have. I admit I feel great when people I love give me compliments or say that I'm motivational, but again, they're people I love - they have to be supportive - so you take it with a grain of salt, right? (although you probably shouldn't because sodium is really bad!)
In any case, I never really expected more reward than what I've already received, but today I was rewarded in my heart by two complete strangers:
Hi Renee,
AWESOME! When the scales aren't moving and I've been good, you'll be my motivation. I've printed your letters for my desk and my co-workers are really enjoying them. You GO GIRL!!!
Renee,
I've been flipping through posts this morning and was totally enthralled when I found your 'Dear John' letters to the last 50. You go, girl.I looked for your other posts and was touched by your humor, warmth and encouragement.I just wanted to say Thank You for making my day.
Jeri
The reward had very little to do with the work I've done physically and was mostly about my posting... which of course has everything to do with God. I am His child and part of what He knit in my mother's womb was a funny, positive, woman who has always hidden behind sarcasm and extra pounds of fat. (Due to the behavior of your dog letters, anyone?)
But, as I have been on my weight loss journey I have also been on a spiritual one. My reward today was the realization that I have shed more than pounds. He is whittling me into the woman He intends me to be, not the one I have tried to make of myself, the one I have tried to hide behind. To know that His design for me is beginning to show and has benefited a complete stranger is an unexpected blessing I was not prepared for - and I am Completely Thankful. (And a little teary, not gonna lie).
Sometimes along my journey I want to give up. Okay, often I want to give up - usually daily - right around the time I'm supposed to get out of bed and go to the gym I want to throw in the proverbial towel and call it a day because (as I used to say when I was very young) it's too hard and I'm too little!
But I get up (mainly because I cannot throw money away) and I keep going. That doesn't mean it isn't a struggle or that it isn't a fight because it is. When doubt creeps in the door I tend to fall into my typical cycle. That would be the one where I feel like nothing will ever change and think to myself "well then, why bother!" I get depressed and I pray and often my prayer or it's answer become a silly little blog post where selfishly I pour out words and sometimes gain some perspective in the process.
But 2 Chronicles 15:7 tells me that for my work there is a reward... and with this weight loss the only reward I have ever expected was to lose weight and have the physical body that God intended for me to have. I admit I feel great when people I love give me compliments or say that I'm motivational, but again, they're people I love - they have to be supportive - so you take it with a grain of salt, right? (although you probably shouldn't because sodium is really bad!)
In any case, I never really expected more reward than what I've already received, but today I was rewarded in my heart by two complete strangers:
Hi Renee,
AWESOME! When the scales aren't moving and I've been good, you'll be my motivation. I've printed your letters for my desk and my co-workers are really enjoying them. You GO GIRL!!!
Renee,
I've been flipping through posts this morning and was totally enthralled when I found your 'Dear John' letters to the last 50. You go, girl.I looked for your other posts and was touched by your humor, warmth and encouragement.I just wanted to say Thank You for making my day.
Jeri
The reward had very little to do with the work I've done physically and was mostly about my posting... which of course has everything to do with God. I am His child and part of what He knit in my mother's womb was a funny, positive, woman who has always hidden behind sarcasm and extra pounds of fat. (Due to the behavior of your dog letters, anyone?)
But, as I have been on my weight loss journey I have also been on a spiritual one. My reward today was the realization that I have shed more than pounds. He is whittling me into the woman He intends me to be, not the one I have tried to make of myself, the one I have tried to hide behind. To know that His design for me is beginning to show and has benefited a complete stranger is an unexpected blessing I was not prepared for - and I am Completely Thankful. (And a little teary, not gonna lie).
Monday, September 20, 2010
Saying Goodbye!
Dear 210’s…
I honestly don’t remember meeting you. Perhaps the ice cream coma I was in blurred our get-together from my mind. Whatever the case may be, I have to admit that I was a little horrified finding you here without my prior knowledge. I mean, I really thought waking up next to someone you don’t recognize only happened to people who completely lost control… In any case, I’m really very glad that you have decided to leave. I’d really appreciate it if you decided not to return.
Sincerely,
Renee
Dear 200’s…
I know we didn’t talk that much – you were only here for about a month before I realized I’d started spending all my time with the 190’s. I’d like to say I’m sorry that we didn’t get to spend more time together, but I have a feeling we’d both know it was a lie. After all, I’m pretty sure I’d spent at least a year with you before the 210’s made that little visit that freaked me out. I really do wish you the best with whoever you move on with. I just know that it won’t be me.
All the best!
Renee
Dear 190’s…
I feel that I need to apologize to you. I know I really made you think I wanted to be with you and I did! When we first met I was so excited to tell people about you… I mean we were together and I was beyond thrilled! By our first month anniversary our relationship had started to lose it’s appeal. I found myself wondering how long we would need to be together. I felt smothered by how you just always wanted to be with me. We had some good times, but I think we were meant to just be friends. I hope that you find someone better suited to you… perhaps a man? Only a suggestion!
Affectionately,
Renee
Dear 180’s…
We began our flirtation in June. Something about you just made me smile. Perhaps it was the way I felt with you while I was wearing that denim dress. I don’t know. But I do know that during our flirtation, I became attracted to the 170’s and I just didn’t know how to tell you. I know that we weren’t committed to each other, still, I felt ashamed. But the heart wants what the heart wants. And my heart wanted better blood flow that could only be found with the 170’s. I’m hopeful that you will understand my desire to end things before anyone gets hurt. You really are great, and I know that there’s someone out there that is perfect for you – she’s just not me.
Fondly,
Renee
Dear 170’s…
We’ve been seeing each other since sometime in July, but I really feel like I need to break it off. It’s not that you weren’t fun – you were! I had a great summer with you. The thing is though, I got caught cheating on you and I wanted to tell you before someone else did. I was at the doctors and the 160’s were there and well… the nurse walked in and saw everything – and since the nurse knows you – well, I’ve been feeling guilty for a while now. I’ve always been attracted to the 160’s but that’s no excuse for stringing you along like this. I don’t want to keep living a lie until day I have to formally announce that you and I aren’t together anymore. I’d really just like for us to part as friends but I completely understand if that can’t happen. So, if we never meet again – you take care of yourself.
Best Wishes,
Renee
Dear 160’s…
I’ve been looking back on letters from the last 6 months and I’ve realized something. While I like you, and I’m happy to spend time with you and get to know you… I’m really not in the position to be in a long term relationship with you or anyone else right now. I’m just trying to figure out what I want. Right now you feel great, but I admit, I’ve been imagining what it might be like to be with the 150’s or 140’s… Sometimes, I catch myself day dreaming about the 130’s and once even with the 120’s… I don’t want to hurt you. I hope we can have fun for as long as it lasts – keep things casual. Still, I need you to know that when we part that will be the end of our relationship. Although, I am happy to introduce you to a couple of tall gals I know that have been daydreaming about you!
TTYL!
Renee
I honestly don’t remember meeting you. Perhaps the ice cream coma I was in blurred our get-together from my mind. Whatever the case may be, I have to admit that I was a little horrified finding you here without my prior knowledge. I mean, I really thought waking up next to someone you don’t recognize only happened to people who completely lost control… In any case, I’m really very glad that you have decided to leave. I’d really appreciate it if you decided not to return.
Sincerely,
Renee
Dear 200’s…
I know we didn’t talk that much – you were only here for about a month before I realized I’d started spending all my time with the 190’s. I’d like to say I’m sorry that we didn’t get to spend more time together, but I have a feeling we’d both know it was a lie. After all, I’m pretty sure I’d spent at least a year with you before the 210’s made that little visit that freaked me out. I really do wish you the best with whoever you move on with. I just know that it won’t be me.
All the best!
Renee
Dear 190’s…
I feel that I need to apologize to you. I know I really made you think I wanted to be with you and I did! When we first met I was so excited to tell people about you… I mean we were together and I was beyond thrilled! By our first month anniversary our relationship had started to lose it’s appeal. I found myself wondering how long we would need to be together. I felt smothered by how you just always wanted to be with me. We had some good times, but I think we were meant to just be friends. I hope that you find someone better suited to you… perhaps a man? Only a suggestion!
Affectionately,
Renee
Dear 180’s…
We began our flirtation in June. Something about you just made me smile. Perhaps it was the way I felt with you while I was wearing that denim dress. I don’t know. But I do know that during our flirtation, I became attracted to the 170’s and I just didn’t know how to tell you. I know that we weren’t committed to each other, still, I felt ashamed. But the heart wants what the heart wants. And my heart wanted better blood flow that could only be found with the 170’s. I’m hopeful that you will understand my desire to end things before anyone gets hurt. You really are great, and I know that there’s someone out there that is perfect for you – she’s just not me.
Fondly,
Renee
Dear 170’s…
We’ve been seeing each other since sometime in July, but I really feel like I need to break it off. It’s not that you weren’t fun – you were! I had a great summer with you. The thing is though, I got caught cheating on you and I wanted to tell you before someone else did. I was at the doctors and the 160’s were there and well… the nurse walked in and saw everything – and since the nurse knows you – well, I’ve been feeling guilty for a while now. I’ve always been attracted to the 160’s but that’s no excuse for stringing you along like this. I don’t want to keep living a lie until day I have to formally announce that you and I aren’t together anymore. I’d really just like for us to part as friends but I completely understand if that can’t happen. So, if we never meet again – you take care of yourself.
Best Wishes,
Renee
Dear 160’s…
I’ve been looking back on letters from the last 6 months and I’ve realized something. While I like you, and I’m happy to spend time with you and get to know you… I’m really not in the position to be in a long term relationship with you or anyone else right now. I’m just trying to figure out what I want. Right now you feel great, but I admit, I’ve been imagining what it might be like to be with the 150’s or 140’s… Sometimes, I catch myself day dreaming about the 130’s and once even with the 120’s… I don’t want to hurt you. I hope we can have fun for as long as it lasts – keep things casual. Still, I need you to know that when we part that will be the end of our relationship. Although, I am happy to introduce you to a couple of tall gals I know that have been daydreaming about you!
TTYL!
Renee
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Six Months
So… it’s been almost 6 months since beginning my weight loss journey… SIX MONTHS! I weigh in next week (which is technically a week shy of the six month mark) and I waffle (mmmmm syrup, how I miss thee!) between being proud of myself to thinking, “is this really all I have to show for everything I’ve done?”. I sometimes have unrealistic expectations and sometimes I look in the mirror and only see how much farther I have to go. Then there’s the knowledge that other people have lost more weight in shorter amounts of time that discourages me. BUT then I remember that I’m not other people. It’s about the journey - not just the destination. So, I’m trying to look at some of the accomplishments of my journey so far. Feel free to read along if you’re so inclined.
I’ve lost at least 33 pounds. I say at least because it’s been several weeks since my last “official” weigh in and I’m pretty sure I’ve lost more than that. I’m hoping I’ve hit my 40 pound loss mark by next week. How sweet would it be to be able to see 170 and finally weigh less than my husband for the first time ever? Better than chocolate sweet people, better than chocolate sweet!
Speaking of my husband… he found my hip bone when cuddling before bed and thought it was the remote. That was a huge high for me. Even though it was a bit bittersweet that my husband has never before felt my hipbone (I mean really, I was THAT big?) it was completely wonderful that he kept pushing on it – amazed by it’s being there. Kind of like other bones I have found on myself – like wrist bones and cheekbones and jaw bones and tail bones (ouch on the tail bone find though!).
Also new is the fact that there are noticeable differences in pictures from before. John told me last night when we were looking at some pictures “You know, when this was taken, I just saw you standing in front of me. But when I see this picture now I don’t see you anymore. You don’t look like this at all!” He looks at me, looks at a picture, shakes his head and looks back at me with this great big beaming look of pride. I cannot express how much that helps. Especially when sometimes I look at them and am just disgusted by how big I had gotten and how I hadn’t seen how big I was or how unhappy I was even when I smiled. Even looking at my sweaty photos I can see a difference, not just in my face but in my happiness. The first picture clearly says “Why am I doing this – I am miserable” and the last one is clearly pleased about being a hot sweaty mess.
In fact, I don’t mind being a hot sweaty mess – which is definitely something new. I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that I have lost my embarrassment chip somewhere along the way. For example: Squats, squat jumps, squat lifts, walking lunges, jumping rope, pull ups, sit ups, reverse sit ups, sit ups done on balance balls, sit ups done with balance balls, every single machine that has a rope or pulley, the elliptical, the treadmill, the stair master, the spin bike and various other things that cause me to grunt and sweat like a pig with exertion in front of the entire gym… have ceased to embarrass me. Don’t get me wrong I still know that I look like an awkward hot mess while doing these things – I know this because of the lovely wall o’ mirrors that encircle the gym that let me see myself from every angle and because I’m not blind to the truth. The point is that I don’t care how I look while doing it – (aside from caring that my form is correct so I don’t injure myself) I do it without first stopping to think what the skinny girl or trainer Matt is thinking as they watch me jiggle away. I’m like Nike now, I just do it!
Another positive takeaway - I’m pretty sure I’m healthier now than I was before – but that’s something I will have to report back on later since next week I’m having my first physical since starting this whole thing. Which brings me to another first – I’m excited to get a physical because I know the doctor probably won’t yell at me for being fat. Granted, I’m still technically fat – but I’m closer to 19% less fat. Seriously, I’ve lost 19% of what I started at! I’m almost halfway to my goal of 40%.
And going through and writing this helps. It reminds me that it’s a journey and that I have made forward progress on it. Yes, I still have a looooong way to go, but I know that I can get there. I have a pretty awesome support system to make sure that if I stumble, I have hands to help me get back up. Plus, since I’m a little lighter, it’s probably easier for them to help me back up now anyway. ;)
I’ve lost at least 33 pounds. I say at least because it’s been several weeks since my last “official” weigh in and I’m pretty sure I’ve lost more than that. I’m hoping I’ve hit my 40 pound loss mark by next week. How sweet would it be to be able to see 170 and finally weigh less than my husband for the first time ever? Better than chocolate sweet people, better than chocolate sweet!
Speaking of my husband… he found my hip bone when cuddling before bed and thought it was the remote. That was a huge high for me. Even though it was a bit bittersweet that my husband has never before felt my hipbone (I mean really, I was THAT big?) it was completely wonderful that he kept pushing on it – amazed by it’s being there. Kind of like other bones I have found on myself – like wrist bones and cheekbones and jaw bones and tail bones (ouch on the tail bone find though!).
Also new is the fact that there are noticeable differences in pictures from before. John told me last night when we were looking at some pictures “You know, when this was taken, I just saw you standing in front of me. But when I see this picture now I don’t see you anymore. You don’t look like this at all!” He looks at me, looks at a picture, shakes his head and looks back at me with this great big beaming look of pride. I cannot express how much that helps. Especially when sometimes I look at them and am just disgusted by how big I had gotten and how I hadn’t seen how big I was or how unhappy I was even when I smiled. Even looking at my sweaty photos I can see a difference, not just in my face but in my happiness. The first picture clearly says “Why am I doing this – I am miserable” and the last one is clearly pleased about being a hot sweaty mess.
In fact, I don’t mind being a hot sweaty mess – which is definitely something new. I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that I have lost my embarrassment chip somewhere along the way. For example: Squats, squat jumps, squat lifts, walking lunges, jumping rope, pull ups, sit ups, reverse sit ups, sit ups done on balance balls, sit ups done with balance balls, every single machine that has a rope or pulley, the elliptical, the treadmill, the stair master, the spin bike and various other things that cause me to grunt and sweat like a pig with exertion in front of the entire gym… have ceased to embarrass me. Don’t get me wrong I still know that I look like an awkward hot mess while doing these things – I know this because of the lovely wall o’ mirrors that encircle the gym that let me see myself from every angle and because I’m not blind to the truth. The point is that I don’t care how I look while doing it – (aside from caring that my form is correct so I don’t injure myself) I do it without first stopping to think what the skinny girl or trainer Matt is thinking as they watch me jiggle away. I’m like Nike now, I just do it!
Another positive takeaway - I’m pretty sure I’m healthier now than I was before – but that’s something I will have to report back on later since next week I’m having my first physical since starting this whole thing. Which brings me to another first – I’m excited to get a physical because I know the doctor probably won’t yell at me for being fat. Granted, I’m still technically fat – but I’m closer to 19% less fat. Seriously, I’ve lost 19% of what I started at! I’m almost halfway to my goal of 40%.
And going through and writing this helps. It reminds me that it’s a journey and that I have made forward progress on it. Yes, I still have a looooong way to go, but I know that I can get there. I have a pretty awesome support system to make sure that if I stumble, I have hands to help me get back up. Plus, since I’m a little lighter, it’s probably easier for them to help me back up now anyway. ;)
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Babies… I’m surrounded by Babies!!!
None of them are mine… and that makes me sad sometimes. Sometimes it makes me more than sad. Sometimes I have to fight against being bitter and wallowing in the fact that more than anything else I want a baby (of my own or store bought, whichever) to raise and love. For those of you not in the know, John and I have been trying for almost 3 years now with no success. We’ve come to the decision that it’ll happen in God’s time and we are trying to be patient. Sometimes I think being patient would be so much easier for me if I weren’t surrounded by kids – that I wouldn’t miss what I don’t have if I didn’t see it all the time.
The thing is – it really feels like this is where God wants me to be – surrounded by babies. I mean, a year ago He put us into a shepherd group where every single couple in it had at least 1 toddler and was pregnant or became pregnant. Other couples that came after us also had multiple little blessings of their own. John and I were the only couple to not have children and it was HARD at first. To be so surrounded by what you want most in the world… oh, the bitterness began to swell at first.
But God is great in all His wisdom. Because these parents we were surrounded by were all so… like us. They got our humor and our pain. They supported us and listened to us as we opened up to them. We forged friendships based on real life and we bonded with them even as we got to watch and listen and learn from their struggles and triumphs. We also got to fall in love with their children along the way.
Each of those bundles of energy and joy and sass have staked out a special place in my heart. When one of the babies giggles or smiles at me – I feel such joy. When I get to rock one of the boys and cuddle and coo at them – I feel such comfort. When one of the girls sees me and runs to hug me, or asks me to pick her up or whispers a giggled secret in my ear – I am overcome with emotion. When two of the little girls randomly told me that they loved me – I went home and cried.
The love of a child is a gift. It is precious. It is wonderful. Does it matter if that child isn’t yours and never will be? No! I might never have children of my own. But God has given me children to love and to love me in return. For love of those precious babies, I wanted to help get the Children’s Ministry at our new church home ready for them. I also wanted to do something to be a part of their Sundays – and still have time to do other things I had committed to.
That is why I volunteered to help before and after each of the services. There’s only one problem… it’s not enough! When I’m with the kids and their little faces light up seeing me there and they want me to stay and check on them or walk them to the clubhouse or stay with them and sing – I don’t want to tell them I can’t. I love being with the kids and watching them learn and grow. I love being able to make them smile and help them solve little disputes. I love being around their joy and excitement. I feel like they love having me there too... not just the little ones who know me, but other children there seem to just come to me – like they know there is a space in my heart that is empty and waiting.
Still, I feel conflicted between “feeding” myself at the adult bible study I go to during second service and “serving” the children (and myself) by staying and helping in the Children’s Ministry. I’ve been praying about it because I almost feel like I’m being selfish wanting to stay with the kids… but then I think – “Why would God give me a heart for children, no children of my own and then NOT want me to be with the children He made sure to place into my life?” In my heart I know that there is nowhere I would rather be than with the kids, even when it stings because I’m reminded of what I want and don’t have. But before I really commit to doing anything on a more permanent basis for the Children’s Ministry I want to make sure it’s where I’m really supposed to be.
I talked to John and he supports me whatever I decide to do. I just have to decide… and we all know how horrible I am at that!
The thing is – it really feels like this is where God wants me to be – surrounded by babies. I mean, a year ago He put us into a shepherd group where every single couple in it had at least 1 toddler and was pregnant or became pregnant. Other couples that came after us also had multiple little blessings of their own. John and I were the only couple to not have children and it was HARD at first. To be so surrounded by what you want most in the world… oh, the bitterness began to swell at first.
But God is great in all His wisdom. Because these parents we were surrounded by were all so… like us. They got our humor and our pain. They supported us and listened to us as we opened up to them. We forged friendships based on real life and we bonded with them even as we got to watch and listen and learn from their struggles and triumphs. We also got to fall in love with their children along the way.
Each of those bundles of energy and joy and sass have staked out a special place in my heart. When one of the babies giggles or smiles at me – I feel such joy. When I get to rock one of the boys and cuddle and coo at them – I feel such comfort. When one of the girls sees me and runs to hug me, or asks me to pick her up or whispers a giggled secret in my ear – I am overcome with emotion. When two of the little girls randomly told me that they loved me – I went home and cried.
The love of a child is a gift. It is precious. It is wonderful. Does it matter if that child isn’t yours and never will be? No! I might never have children of my own. But God has given me children to love and to love me in return. For love of those precious babies, I wanted to help get the Children’s Ministry at our new church home ready for them. I also wanted to do something to be a part of their Sundays – and still have time to do other things I had committed to.
That is why I volunteered to help before and after each of the services. There’s only one problem… it’s not enough! When I’m with the kids and their little faces light up seeing me there and they want me to stay and check on them or walk them to the clubhouse or stay with them and sing – I don’t want to tell them I can’t. I love being with the kids and watching them learn and grow. I love being able to make them smile and help them solve little disputes. I love being around their joy and excitement. I feel like they love having me there too... not just the little ones who know me, but other children there seem to just come to me – like they know there is a space in my heart that is empty and waiting.
Still, I feel conflicted between “feeding” myself at the adult bible study I go to during second service and “serving” the children (and myself) by staying and helping in the Children’s Ministry. I’ve been praying about it because I almost feel like I’m being selfish wanting to stay with the kids… but then I think – “Why would God give me a heart for children, no children of my own and then NOT want me to be with the children He made sure to place into my life?” In my heart I know that there is nowhere I would rather be than with the kids, even when it stings because I’m reminded of what I want and don’t have. But before I really commit to doing anything on a more permanent basis for the Children’s Ministry I want to make sure it’s where I’m really supposed to be.
I talked to John and he supports me whatever I decide to do. I just have to decide… and we all know how horrible I am at that!
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