Anxiety Rears It’s Ugly Little Head

It’s been a rough week.

It shouldn’t have been.  It should’ve been a great week, because it was my birthday week, but alas, the anxiety monster picked this week to rear it’s ugly little head.

It wasn’t until yesterday that I discovered that the trigger was probably hormonal, but by that time it didn’t matter.  The collateral damage had been done.  I had left a huge trail of destruction in my wake by the time it dawned on me what was causing it all.   I was a complete utter wreck and an emotional basket case.   The real me had been bullied away by anxiety several days before.

This is another bad side effect of not having regular cycles…I never know when the hormones are going to start surging, and by the time I figure it out  I have a hurt husband and even my cats are avoiding me like the plague.  When animals avoid you, you know you’re giving off some seriously bad vibes.

By God’s grace I kept it together for my birthday on Wednesday, but by yesterday afternoon I was done mentally and physically.  I left work two hours’ early, took about an hour to chill at my favorite park then went home and went directly to bed.

Before and after my 3-hour nap I picked up my favorite book on anxiety.  From Panic to Power by Lucinda Bassett.  I read this book last year, and it really helped me get a grip on the anxiety that was plaguing me at the time.  It’s a book I highly recommend.  I have a feeling that I will eventually wear it out and have to buy a new one.  It’s great for folks like me to read and re-read…especially when the anxiety monster attacks.

I know I am more predisposed to anxiety than the average person because 1) I have a strong family history of anxiety disorders, 2) I have been through a major traumatic life-changing event,  and 3) I have an anxiety-prone personality type.

I tend to catastrophize (a hallmark of the anxiety-prone), and as my hubby puts it…see the glass as half empty or even worse…totally empty.  Anxiety disorder is not a mental illness per se it’s more of a perception disorder.   It’s not that I’m anxious over things or events that are not real it’s just I tend to make things worse than they actually are.  When I start traveling down the emotional road of this anxiety it’s like a snowball on a hill…it just gets bigger and bigger until it runs into something.  I either hit my tolerance wall, or I stop it by consciously…with great effort…changing my way of thinking and/or redirecting my anxiety into positive creative activity.   Folks of my personality type are very sensitive and creative, and one way to drain the adrenaline that comes with an anxiety attack is to redirect the energy.  It takes a lot of effort, because when you’re under an anxiety attack it’s really hard to focus,  but it really works to lessen the effects of anxiety.

I really want the anxiety to be gone for good, but I know from time to time it will rear it’s ugly little head.  I always have to be on guard and protect my mind and heart.  It’s a battle that I will fight for the rest of my life.

Do you suffer from anxiety?  Of course, everyone has anxiety from time to time, but do you have times that anxiety threatens to consume your life?  How do you handle life when the anxiety monster rears it’s ugly little head?

Does He Think I Couldn’t Handle It?

Just a small vent.  Last night I watched the “1^st GrandDuggar” episode (where Josh and Anna have their baby).  I really like their show and sort of live vicariously through that show…because having one kid is most likely something I’ll never experience much less nineteen.

Anyway, I know I expose myself to potentially upsetting emotions by watching that show.  I just figure it’s something that goes along with the territory.

Well, last evening I was upset about something that had nothing to do with children…I think it’s a combination of circumstances and raging hormones…but Idecided I was going to watch the show to wind down.

Well, when Josh was asked about how many children he and Anna were planning to have he said something to the effect of (very loosely quoted) “Well, it’s in God’s hands.  God said he would never give us any more than we can handle.  So he won’t give us more children than we can handle.”

I agree with the statement because God does tell us that he will not give us more than we can handle.  I’m assuming Josh Duggar based his statement upon this scripture—1 Corinthians 10:13 (NIV)

“No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.”

You can interchange the word “temptation” for “situation” or “problem”.  The Hebrew word for “temptation” has a broader definition than the English meaning of temptation.

This is the question that is continually in the back of my mind…and I’m sure other folks who have dealt with life-long infertility and/or the closed doors of adoption…”Did God not allow me to have/adopt a child because he thought I couldn’t handle it?”

Josh Duggar’s  innocent and faith-inspired quote was, again, like a dagger to my soul and brought the old nagging question back to the forefront of my mind.  Satan has used it so many times to get me completely down and unsure of myself to the point that I think it’s a character flaw in me that has withheld this blessing that seems to be given freely and in abundance to most people.

Couple this with the fact that I just found out yet another family member is expecting…it’s just more than I can bear in my limited mind today.

The longer I walk down this lonely path of childlessness the more I realize I don’t have any answers.  I can only draw conclusions based on what I know about God.

So, okay, maybe…just maybe God decided I wasn’t cut out to be mother.  If that is true then is it really a condemnation upon me?  The enemy (Satan) constantly throws that interpretation in my face to discourage me.  However, I am God’s child, and if everything I believe is true then I have to believe that everything He does in my life is for my good:

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28 (NIV)

It’s really hard to accept that my condition is the work of God’s love in my life.  However, is there really any other conclusion?  We all know people out there who are not good parents…selfish, irresponsible…etc., etc., but yet, God allowed them to be parents for whatever reason.  The hardest thing for me to accept is that God is a personal God.  Yes, there are absolutes…things that God says, “This applies to everyone across the board”, but the majority of the time God works on a personal level with everyone.  It’s so hard for me to wrap my brain around that…that God can work with every human being on earth on personal, intimate level.  What is good for me in His eyes is not always good for the next person.

See where am I going with this?

When He formed me in my mother’s womb He already had all my days planned.  He knew every decision I would make…every trial I would face…and the fact that I would be childless.  He already knew!  Why would He go to the trouble to make me if my life was not useful in some way?

Again, I don’t know…I don’t know if I’ll ever know why he made me the way I am, but what I do know…and what I cling desperately to…is the fact that I am not a mistake and I’m not defective.  I’m exactly who He designed me to be, and right now and for the rest of my life…that has to be enough.

What Did You Want to Be When You Grew Up?

Pssst…don’t tell my other blog, but I never wanted to have a career.

Was that a collective gasp I heard from the feminist movement?  If there was ever a taboo statement in the last 30 years I’d think the one I just made would be it.

I started thinking about this deeply on Friday.  I was listening to talk radio on Friday (Yes, I’m one of those right-wing nut-jobs that listens to talk radio), and a lady called in after the question was raised as to why modern women as a whole are unhappy.  I mean, a modern Western woman can pretty much do anything she desires to do.  We can take on any role we choose.  So, why is there such collective discontent among career women?  Why are we constantly unhappy with something in our lives especially those of us who are super successful in our chosen profession?

The lady from talk radio said, “It’s pretty much because most women have stepped away from their God-given roles as wives and mothers.” (loosely quoted).

*Crickets… followed by the sound of Gloria Steinheim bursting a vessel.*

Her statement irritated me but for a different reason than it probably irritated Feminist Mother Gloria.

The good Lord allowed me to be a wife but not a mother…and I knew the lady was right.

I’m not irritated at the statement because I feel justified in having a career, because I never wanted a career.  I remember as far back as kindergarten wishing that I could be in 12th grade, because I wanted to be done with school to move on to what I knew (thought) the Lord wanted me to be…a wife and a mother.  I never had daydreams of being a nurse, a doctor, a journalist etc; however, over my growing-up years people tried to implant those desires in me in some subtle and not so subtle ways.  I grew up in the 70s and 80s…the renaissance era of the feminist movement…and even though I grew up in the rural South my educational experience and the good intentions of  feminist influences around me pushed me in the direction of a career.

I remember in middle school being made to go to a middle school version of a job fair.  I couldn’t have been more uninterested.  I don’t know how many people asked me what I wanted to do that day…I just kept telling them “I don’t know”.  I did know, but even at the tender age of 12 or 13 I knew saying that I wanted to be a wife and mother was not the the answer they wanted.  Besides, I thought asking a 6th grader to choose their life’s profession in a stinky school gym was a little too much pressure don’t you think?  I knew 12th graders who were still struggling with that decision.  All I cared about was surviving sixth-grade math and the crush I had on Rick Springfield.

It is my opinion that we put too much pressure on children (including those leaving high school for college) to have their careers chosen early.  It is my opinion that very few people know exactly what they want to do career-wise by the time they leave high school.  The lucky, passionate few do, but most…if they were completely honest…are totally confused about what their career path should be.

I also think women are pressured into careers by expectations forced upon us by the feminist movement  I believe if many women were blatantly honest they would admit that they really never wanted a career.  They wanted to be wives and mothers.  They wanted to build a loving family and home and not feel the immense pressure of having a career first and then maybe…when the time is right…if it ever is right…a home and a family.

I’ve worked for nearly 20 years, and even though I’m not a mother I have observed many career women trying to desperately hold on to a career (either by choice or necessity) while simultaneously trying to be an effective wife and mother.  I have never witnessed a woman doing both well.  Either the career or family suffers…usually both.  I would say that ninety-eight percent of the women end up being stressed out and unhappy with trying to juggle both family and career.  I think in the coming years this expectation upon women will go down as the tipping point in the decline of the American family.

Okay…what does this have to do with me…the childless woman?  Plenty…

I fell in love with my husband back in 1985.  I was a junior in high school.  He was a senior. All I wanted to do was graduate and marry him.  Well, I got plenty of opinions on that.  “You need something fall back on” was the statement made to me when I told people I really didn’t have interest in college just marriage and family.

Don’t get me wrong.  I think education is a wonderful thing.  I wish I had more education than I do, but looking back I would’ve majored in something different even though my career path has been very kind to me.  It was years later that I realized that I had a very deep interest in writing.

After graduation I struggled.  There were several people of the opinion that I should be a nurse since I took Health Occupations in high school (was even the president of our local H.O.S.A. chapter).  While I had a little interest in the medical profession once I did an internship in a hospital during my senior year in school I knew that nursing wasn’t for me.  That realization sent me into a existential crisis during the year the pressure to pick a profession was at its peak.  My answer to the pressure was to not make a decision at all that year regarding my future education.  While my family and friends were mostly supportive I knew many were disappointed that I was not going to become a nurse.

After graduation I went to work, working in a grocery store.   After a year of that I knew that working in a grocery store was not going to be my career.  I then started looking at going to junior college even though I still didn’t know what I wanted to do other than marry Eddie and start a family.   Well-intentioned adults kept saying, “You need skills to fall back on.” Since I didn’t know what I wanted to do, and I still had a lingering…though mild…interest in medicine I decided to go for an associate’s degree in Administrative Medical Assisting just to shut everyone up.  Reality had also set in.  My fiancee, Eddie, had developed a heart condition, and had been encouraged to go to college himself.  It also became apparent that we would not be able to live on love alone.   Because of his weakened state this was the time I took on responsibility that was not mine.  I became totally convinced that I would have to prepare myself to be the family provider in case sometime in the future my intended would be unable to be the provider.  It was a noble decision made completely out of love for him, but it was then I stepped outside my role as his spouse even though I wasn’t even his spouse at the time.

If there’s such a thing of being responsible to a fault (and I think there is) it’s definitely a character flaw of mine.

I finished my associate’s degree in Administrative Medical Assisting in 1990.  The degree gave me essential skills in clinical work or office administration.  Eddie had finished his second year in college and was transferring from a private 2-year college to a state 4-year college.  We married in the Summer of 1990 and moved to Appalachian State University in August of that year.  I quickly found a job as a medical transcriptionist at the local hospital.

While I do not regret our early years of marriage I know I took on some roles that were not mine to take on.  I don’t think there was anything wrong with me working while my husband finished college…it was my mindset that was wrong.  Subconsciously, I began to act like the head of the household.  Even though my husband had a lot to learn about being a Godly husband I also had a lot of learn about being a submissive wife.  There were conflicts…bad decisions…and illness.  All that combined took a toll, and while we never thought of splitting up there were times when I really wondered what I had gotten myself into.  Marriage was not turning out the way I expected.

The consequences of my upside-down thinking on the role of a woman in marriage has had a ripple-effect through our marriage.  It took me years to let go of some of messed-up worldly thinking on marriage.  I still struggle with it from time to time.  With the Lord’s help I eventually was able to surrender most of the roles I had taken on that were never mine in the first place.

The addition of the heartache of infertility amplified the areas where I had been wrong too.  I realized that if I had been obedient when I was 18 or 19 and had not taken on roles that were not mine more avenues might have been open for us as far as adoption etc.

However, God is completely faithful.   He doesn’t leave us to drown in our mistakes.  Like the father of an errant child he will bail us out of jail even when we don’t deserve it.   Even though I have made some bad decisions because of a worldly (feminist) way of thinking he had used those decisions to effect some wonderful things in my life.  He knew that my life would not be full of children.  He gave my husband and I both a love for animals, and we have been able to help rescue and help several animals in need.  He also used my unintended career choice to take me on a 20-year journey that has led to me working for one of the most influential men of our time.

But I do think that most women are at their happiest when they are wives and mothers.  I think it is the most underrated careers of all time.  Believe me, if the good Lord decides you are not to be either He will let you know, and when the time is right he will let you know what your life’s purpose is.  I think too many women jump the gun and sell out for second-best way too soon.

What do you think?

Today is One of Those Days…

This morning, I wrote this Tweet on Twitter:

“Hopelessness is like a dense fog threatening to obstruct the view of anything good in life.”

Hopelessness is the hardest thing to deal with when you deal with long term childlessness.

It seems the more I try to move on the more other people remind me…even if they don’t realize it…of what I can’t do for them. That’s the maddening thing about childlessness…not only do you have to grieve for yourself you live with the reality that your inability to conceive children causes mountains of grief for other people.

Not the best recipe for a healthy self-esteem.

I desperately want to move on. I feel I’m capable of moving on for myself, but I can’t move on for others. I feel like doing so would be turning a deaf ear to their pain, and I just can’t ignore someone in pain. It’s not in my nature.

But on the other hand I can’t do anything to alleviate their pain so what’s the good in dwelling on it?

*Heavy Sigh*

Classic Catch 22 situation…

God, please show me the good in all of this and how best to love those around me who are hurting because of what you have chosen for my/our lives.

Book Review: The Shack

I recently read the book The Shack and posted my personal review over on my other blog.  Pop over there and let me know what you think.

Well, Hello!

Psalm 94:19  When my anxious thoughts multiply within me, Your consolations delight my soul!

I’ve not written much lately, because #1, I’ve been busy, and #2, I’ve struggled a bit with what to write.  To be blatantly honest I’ve struggled with whether or not I want to keep doing this bloggy thing.  I’m getting maybe one or two hits on this site a day, so I really wonder if my blog is contributing anything to the blogosphere.  Of course, I’m like most bloggers, I want to know that people are actually reading my blog and getting something from it.   I feel there are a lot of folks out there who walk the journey of childlessness, but I also get a sense that even the folks who are dealing with this trial try not to think about it as much as possible much less read blogs about it.  I know that because there are times I don’t want to read blogs about it, go to childless forums or even think about that thing I was never allowed to have.

I also wonder just how much writing about it affects me negatively.  I mean, just last week I spent a couple of hours on a VERY BAD DAY writing a lengthy lament about my lot in life.  It was raining.  I was depressed, and I was very frustrated with my husband.  I composed the draft but told myself that I was going to wait until later that evening to post it to give myself some time to decide if it was really how I felt or if I was just blowing off steam for the sake of blowing off steam.

Later, when I re-read the draft the first thought in my mind was “Eh gads!  That makes me want to go grab a gun and blow my head off.  That’s not going on the blog…uh uh!”  See, just a few short hours later I felt much differently about the day and my life.   Then I regretted that I had spent two hours of my life composing that depressing draft.  Emotions are lying, fleeting  little buggers, and the enemy sure knows how to use them to get your whole day off track.

I do want to reach a consistent place of peace with the path God has laid out in front of me.  I don’t want to be reactionary and let my emotions take complete control over me anymore.  I’ve been a slave to my emotions most of my life, and I have allowed them to ruin the quality of my life more times than I can count.

Blogging is essentially journaling for the whole world to see.  Of course, I have complete creative control over what I put on this site, but just because one can doesn’t mean one should.   I have read blogs from people who describe every intimate detail of their life, and honestly, it’s a little…or a lot…off-putting.  I know it human nature to love a train wreck, but I don’t want to be a train wreck.  I want to be a good example of someone who can swim through the muck and mire of life, be real about it, but not shake that muck and mire off on people and just walk away.  I want you and myself to be aware that even though we all walk through some pretty terrible trials in life that we make it through…with scars…but we make it through by the grace and love of God alone.  That’s right…with God alone.  Every day I live the more I realize that without God I would not make it.  Oh, I might live, but I could not live abundantly and healed.  I would be the train wreck that everyone would gawk at with pity.  Without him I would continue to be broken, and the only thing I would be contributing to the world is more brokenness.  That’s the last thing the world needs.

So, I continue to seek God on the direction of my life and this blog.  Does God want me to continue it, and if so what should I write about?  I know that God gave me, however humble, some writing skills.  Having a good grasp of the English language and using those skills via transcription has helped keep food on our table and kibble in our cats’ bowls for almost twenty years.  So, I know I’m supposed to be writing but what?

I’m open to suggestions from God and you, because God can use you to help me!

See, we’re all used by God in some way!

My Fickle Desire to Adopt

Why can I not just be content? Why can’t I just move on and accept my childless life? I want to so badly, but my heart just keeps showing me the void that it seems only a child could fill.

I’m 90-some-percent sure I’ll never be able to have a child of my own, but since I still have my reproductive organs there is a chance. I have moved on to accept there will most likely never be a person who shares mine and my husband’s genes. It’s not okay…it will never be okay…but I have come to accept it for the most part.

On Sunday we sat behind a couple (who were several years older than us) who had adopted what appeared to be a child of Latino heritage. I heard her talking to someone about it. I don’t know if they had been CNBC, but she stated that her and her husband had been married 30 years and now had adopted 2-1/2-year-old (who is just drop-dead adorable by the way).

That old desire to adopt came crashing back on me. Like I’ve said a million times…church is the emotionally hardest place I go all week. I’m frequently overcome by all the sweet families with children. It’s usually worse when there’s a baby dedication. Well, last Sunday I was crying even before the first strains of music began. Seeing that couple with their adopted child combined with some emotionally tough things I encountered last week was the perfect storm. I somehow managed not to let it descend into sob-fest that necessitated that I leave the sanctuary to compose myself, but it was a very close call indeed.

Well, last night I went and picked up a book by a new author I had just discovered. I didn’t pick the book entirely on the story; however, the story intrigued me a bit. It was about three children who were orphaned after their parents were killed in a tenement fire in the late 1800’s. They first went to an orphanage in New York City, but then were sent to Missouri to be adopted.

The adoption process was disturbingly simple in that time period. Orphans would be shipped by train to requesting towns. They would be ushered into a local church or public hall. They would be numbered and stand before the crowds something akin to slave selling or auctioning. Money wasn’t supposed to change hands, but there were no regulations to speak of. The orphanage representatives were known to take bribes from people who wanted to ensure they got first pick…infants, strong farm-hand-able boys etc.

In this novel the three siblings end up separated…the separation narrated in heart-rending detail. The oldest child vows that she will eventually find her two siblings.

That’s as far as I have read so far.

I don’t know if adoption has been planted in my head this week by coincidental happenstance, or if it is God trying to tell me something. After two near misses with adoption several years ago following arduous years of infertility treatments my heart could take no more. We pursued it no further for my mental well being. Our financial situation was also (still isn’t) favorable for adoption. Whether you do it privately, closed, domestic, or internationally adoption is a costly process at best. You don’t just walk into a church, pick out a kid, and leave with your child the same day.  While I’m glad the process has become more stringent it has crossed the line of being too complicated and costly for the normal middle-class person.  That is unless you go the foster/adopt route which is really the only route to adoption state social services allow anymore…also, not for the faint of heart.

Even if we did come up with the cash for the process we’d need another financial miracle for me to be able to stay home with the child which is what I’d feel I’d owe a child…especially if we adopted one who had been in an orphanage or foster situation for any length of time.

So, here I sit not knowing if my renewed desire is something God breathed or just a “desire” that I harbor because it’s really the only thing left we can do to obtain a child of our own.  Maybe the desire will be gone again tomorrow?

I do believe adoption is a calling and something that you shouldn’t do for primarily selfish reasons. It should be done for the child’s benefit. Any joy or fulfillment that you get as a parent should be seen as collateral benefit.

I guess all I can do is pray. In the past this desire has waxed and waned. If it were to happen God would first have to put my husband and I on the same page, and then He would have to do some major door opening. If I look at it practically it’s certainly a no-go circumstantially, but the side of me that contains the faith of a  mustard seed (and believe me, it’s a very small mustard seed) says I should be open and listen to what my heart is telling me.

My main desire is to be obedient to God. I don’t want to miss His best for me, or the best for a potential child He might place in our life.

Julie and Julia

I went to see the movie Julie and Julia yesterday.  LOVED IT!   In fact I wrote a big review over at my other blog if you’re interested in reading that.  I did not discuss the childless-not-by-choice aspect of it on that blog, since that is my more public blog. I try to keep all my CNBC “issuahs” over here.   While most of my readers there know I’m childless experience has taught me that I should guard my CNBC thoughts and not cast my pearls before swine…not that my readers are swine…definitely not, but you know what I mean.  Not everybody gets what we go through.

Going in I did not know that Julia Child was CNBC.  So, when the subtle (but extremely poignant) scenes showing her deep pain (childlessness) played out I was completely blown away, and my admiration for her grew immensely.  She was a joyous and headstrong woman, but facing her childless state could bring her to her knees faster than anything.  I mean, she took her cooking setbacks with great stride, but she could see a baby carriage and her countenance would fall like poorly baked souffle.   She made me feel less like a wuss.

The great thing was that she never let it get her down for long.  She focused on the wonderful things in her life…her husband, her love of Paris, and her love of cooking.   She would channel all of her love and energy into those things, and most of all…she SAVORED life.   Here’s the link to the trailer.

So, if you haven’t seen the movie do youself a BIG FAVOR and go.  Even a day later this movie is still on my mind.  I didn’t expect for it to affect me like it did, but it did!

Bon Appetit!

What I Truly Need…

A few months ago I think I eluded to the fact that for a while church had been difficult for me.  I really couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why.  I thought it was because (especially during the holidays) all the sweet little families…complete with children and grandchildren…that surrounded me there.  I also reasoned it was because my extended family was not with me at church which in retrospect I realized was a pretty lame excuse.  Even before we moved to Charlotte we had left my home church and had found a wonderful church nearer to our home in Hendersonville.  We were happy as larks there even though we were not related to one soul in that church.

In the last few months I came to realize the reason I was having such a hard time at church…it was the condition of my heart.  I have been disappointed in God, and I have been bitter towards Him and towards people who had received things from God I didn’t think they deserved.  I have also been disappointed in Him because He had not fixed things that I thought He should fix.

Mind you, not all of this centers around my childlessness.  There are also other areas in which my pride has been rearing it’s big ugly head.  I have  been envious, jealous, indignant, profane, and judgmental…I could go on.

I’ve also been a whole lot of self-righteous.  I’m a rule follower, and I think everyone else should be too.  I tend to get really out of joint when people don’t follow the rules and don’t play nice.  While it’s good to play by the rules and expect others to do the same when you let that tendency overtake you to the point that you’re angry about something constantly then something’s wrong…very wrong.  I knew I had to get to the root of my problem and work through the things that were making me so bitter.  I know some bitter people, and it scares me that I could end up like them if I don’t make some drastic changes.  So, I asked God to start dredging out the black bile of bitterness in my heart, and He’s begun the process,  I won’t lie to you and say it’s anything less than painful.  Bitterness is like the Bermudagrass that I pulled out of my flower garden last night.  It wraps it’s tentacles around everything good and chokes it out.  Just like I had let that Bermudagrass take over my beautiful flowers I had let bitterness over my childlessness (and other issues) wrap it’s tentacles around my heart, and I did not weed it out before it did great damage.

I have thought for years upon years that what I needed to complete me and our family was a child.  It was an understandable misconception, because it’s normal and natural for a woman to have a child…we’re biologically wired for it.  When it didn’t happen to me but happened to other people…some of whom I didn’t believe deserved it…that’s when the bitterness started taking root.  I let that bitter weed have it’s way for years, and it became so prevalent that it choked out many of the good things in my life.

However, after I had prayed that prayer for God to start weeding out the bitterness I had sort of an “ah-ha” moment last weekend as I cuddled my 2-month-old nephew.  He was being super-snuggly and looking at me with those innocent blue eyes and charming me as only a baby boy can do.  In the past that would make my baby-want meter go into the red zone, but at that moment something odd happened to me.  I felt an odd sort of contentment that I was Aunt Vicki and not momma.  I was going to eat that moment up and then hand him off to his mother to change the diaper he had filled while I was cuddling him.  I suddenly realized that a baby isn’t everything.  Seventeen years ago I held my other nephew, and now he’s gone, and not only is he gone…he’s on a dangerous path; one we’re desperately praying that he’ll turn from.  I couldn’t imagine what life would be like right now if we were his parents.  It would definitely be harder than the life we have now. It’s painful enough walking through this as aunt and uncle.

Getting back to my main point…God planned this life for me.  My pastor said it this morning.  I have to stop whining about the life he planned for me.  I have to give up these hopes and dreams and get to the point to where nothing matters but Jesus.  He was talking to a large congregation…many of whom have lost jobs, homes, cars, possessions, and status this year.  He was telling them to quit longing to get those things back and just start focusing on Jesus and seeing that everything that comes our way…seemingly good or bad…is always ultimately for our good.

So, I have to start seeing my childlessness as good…the distance from my family as good…my husband’s chronic illness as good and so on and so on. I have to get to the point to where all I need is Jesus, and I’m going to be working on that.  I know it’s not going to be an easy or pain-free journey.

If you would like to hear the message I heard this morning go here and click on the sermon from  Sunday Morning, August 9, 2009.   Loran Livingston is the real deal.  Strap on your seatbelt, because he’s an old-fashioned fiery preacher (I love that!), and he gives it to you straight.  My toes have chronic bruises from where he’s stepped on them, but by golly, I’ve deserved each and every bruise!

As Anne Graham Lotz says, “Just give me Jesus!”

One of Those Weeks…

It’s been one of those difficult weeks…not for any major reason, but just one of those weeks when just the drudgery of living sort of gets you down.  I’ve always been a girl that needs something to look forward to.  While I love the comfort and predictable-ness of routine it can also be my arch nemesis.  When days pass and it’s just get up, get ready, go to work, come home, eat some dinner, do some chores, and go to bed I start to get bored with life.

My life is full contrasts.  While I love adventure I also love the comfort of what’s familiar…what’s safe.  Those two different sides of my personality are almost always in conflict.  My husband is adventurous and and is not afraid to try new things.  Over the years he’s become my safe-place in new adventures, and honestly, if it wasn’t for him I probably  would’ve never worked up the courage to do the things I have.  Honestly, there have been times he’s dragged me kicking and screaming. He’s my great motivator…the one who pulls me out of my shell and into new things.  Once I’m there I’m usually very grateful that he did.  God really knew what I needed in a partner.

Over the last several months I’ve been restless.  It happens every few years in my life, especially in my career.  If I’m not somewhat challenged in my work I become bored.  This is not a good time for one to become bored in their job given the current economic crisis, but I am dealing with that and will not deny it.  I’m so fortunate to have a job, and honestly, it’s a great job.  There are the inevitable office politics that come into play…which I hate…but for the most part it’s a wonderful, pinch-me-I-think-I’m-dreaming type of job as I’m working for one of the most influential men of the 20th-21st century!

However, It has been difficult being one of the survivors of the lay-offs that happened earlier in the year.  While those of us who remain are thankful to be there you live with the realization that you’re just another sum on a spreadsheet somewhere, and your worth is now dictated more by the bottom line than by your actual job performance.  That’s doubly difficult when you work in a ministry and feel at least somewhat of a calling to do what you do.  You feel that you are working for God, but at the same time you are also working in the corporate world.  It’s really hard to mesh those two realities into one identity and resolve it in your mind.

I’ve also had a really down week about my childlessness.  Grief has reared it’s ugly head again and combine that with anger and resentment over things happening in the family which seem to never get resolved  it sets up a real funk for me.

I’m also actively grieving over the loss of something very deep and intimate within our marriage, which like infertility, is sometimes fixable but many times is not.  In our case it is marginally fixable, but it will never be what it used to be.  I won’t go into details…many of you may have already guessed what this is…but there is a great sense of loss for both of us.

What that added loss I keep fighting the pervasive feeling that we’re always going to be losing something…our youth, our loved ones, our health, our vitality etc. etc.  While we are blessed beyond measure at forty we’ve seemed to have started going downhill…or at the very least we’ve plateaued.  I know it’s all a state of mind, but circumstances also tend to point that way.  I don’t swallow that well.  I want to keep moving forward not backward, but I find myself swimming upstream now and really feeling my age.

I apologize for this downer post.  I hesitate writing the bad stuff, but again, it’s a part of life.  If I wrote as if everything was happiness and rainbows all the time then it wouldn’t be honest of me.  I’d almost made the decision to stop blogging when a certain encourager (you know who you are) wrote me this week at the height of my discouragement and encouraged me to keep going.  She had no idea that I was really struggling with everything…including blogging.  What a God thing!

And that’s Who I have to keep leaning on…God.  While my adult life has not been easy I can see God’s hand all the way through it.  I’ll admit I still don’t understand a lot of what He’s doing in my life, but I know He’s there, and He hasn’t let me go yet.  So, I push on…through the good weeks and the bad…the adventurous and ho-hum…because I know HE’s walking beside me and when need be He picks me up and carries me.