What I learned at church..

...when a few passionate people gather together and sing praises to God, amazing things happen...

...life isn't about us, it's about God...

...we're doing something right when we give up our successes for the success of God...



What I've decided I'm going to do about what I learned..

...I'm offering myself up to God to do amazing things with me...

...all for His glory...

.

Persistence

Saturday night at church was hard for me. I've been struggling since the whole job situation happened. At the end of church, John asked if anyone had a prayer request. I was VERY hesitant to bombard people with my issues and did not plan on saying anything. All of a sudden though, my mouth opened and I spoke.

Like I said, I wasn't planning on saying anything, but it was like something hit me on the back and made me speak (not physically of course). I said, "yeah, I have one. I'm just really struggling..." Honestly, I had a hard time explaining what I was struggling with because I wasn't even exactly sure what was bothering me, but I knew there was something. I feel like I rambled a bit until I actually figured out what it was. It was the fact that the whole job situation hurt me so bad that I turned from God for a bit and the spirit in me was struggling to get back to a deeper relationship with Him. I craved that deep connection I had before, but I couldn't get back there.

As I talked it out with my church family (who just so happens to be my REAL family), my father in law said the most profound thing that rung loudly in my ears. I have to tell you real quick. My father in law is an amazing man of God. Every time I talk to him, he says something that sticks with me, challenges me, or makes me think. He blows me mind with how knowledgeable he is. If you want an edifying, deep conversation about Jesus, call my father in law. He's good for that.

I digress, moving on. As I talked about my struggles, my father in law said something about persistence, and that we can't turn our backs on God and expect to go right back to a deep relationship with Him like before. God wants us to prove our faith by persistence. As soon as he said that word, persistence, I knew it was what God wanted me to hear. That word kept playing over and over and over in my head.

Fast forward a few days to today. As I'm running on the treadmill rocking out to my worship music, God reminded me of something. Bare with me as I try and explain....

A few weeks ago when we had that major storm and the power went out, we all got a taste of what people in third world countries go through day in and day out. Maybe I'm exaggerating, but having no electricity and no water during the dog days of summer was pretty bad.

During the few days without power, I tried to picture life as if this were the new normal. Would I still praise God when I was sweating bullets, with no AC, little food, no TV, no internet, with no relief in sight? I can't answer that and I hope I never have to experience that. But as I was thinking about that, I thought about those people in third world countries where they've been praying for years for God to help them. I started thinking about the Israelites in captivity and how they prayed for years. Would I be able to persist? Would I turn on God because He didn't answer my prayers fast enough? What would I do?

In a weird way, after the power outage, I asked God to teach me persistence. Because what if one day I'm called to the mission field and I get taken hostage (yes, I do think about those things)? Would I be one of those missionaries people talk about that knew they were going to die, but praised God til the end? Or what if we lose power again and we never get it back? Would I still be able to praise God when life took such a drastic turn for the worst? God reminded me of these thoughts today.

Two weeks after the power outage, God gave me exactly what I asked of Him. The job situation was a lesson about persistence. It was a lesson in praising Him anyway, even when things don't go my way. A lesson in trusting Him, no matter what.

Two weeks ago, I never thought I'd say this, but I found myself today thanking God for the trials. It's grown me, grown my faith, and made me a better person for Him.

I have to say, learning persistence is hard for me. I'm not used to waiting. I've always gotten what I wanted when I wanted it. After all, I am the baby of the family. Since the day I was born, I was doted upon by an older brother who thought I was the coolest thing since ice pops and pretzels, and my parents who longed for a baby girl. To this day, I am abundantly spoiled by my family and specifically by my husband. He gives me what I want and showers me with love and affection constantly. I don't need persistence in this human life...

But I need it in my spiritual life. And God knew that. So, here I am...learning persistence....

Only God could turn something bad into something good

So much has happened since I last posted. For awhile I thought my latest post would be about God's awesome power and faithfulness, and although He continues to be both of those things, my post won't be about that. At least I don't think it'll be about that.....

I'm not even sure where this post will go. What I do know is that I will share with you what God has been doing in my life and maybe along the way, I'll find or learn something I didn't see before. So here it goes...

Last week, John and I received some bad news about a job situation. We were pretty distraught, upset, and crushed. I can't speak for John, but I really thought things were going to work out in our favor. When they didn't, both John and I were confused. Why had God allowed this to happen again when we asked Him to close doors if it wasn't His will? Didn't He hear our specific prayers? If He cares about us, how could He do this to us, for the FOURTH time? (By fourth, I mean that three other similar situations happened over the past three years).

I was so angry at God that in my mind I pictured throwing things at Him, but it only made me more mad that I couldn't REALLY throw anything at Him. I said I wouldn't speak to Him for a long time. I told Him I needed some space. I just didn't want to talk to or spend time with a God that hurt me so badly. I couldn't see any good in what happened and I knew better than to ask 'why?' So, I went on with life ignoring God as best as I could.

There was a situation that happened to me three years ago (unrelated to what I referred to in the beginning of this post). I was so drained emotionally and spiritually from it that I needed a break from God. I was so confused and hurt that I wasn't sure I could ever trust God again. So, I ignored Him and pretended He wasn't there. It took me three months to acknowledge God again and even after I acknowledged Him, it took a few more months to get back to where I was spiritually. It took some time before I could really trust Him again.

Fast forward three years to last week. Again, I was in a situation where I was angry with God and felt like it would take some time before I could acknowledge Him or trust Him again. I expected it take a few months, just like last time. However, this time, it was only a few days before I was 'back to normal.'

Nothing was different this time. I was equally as hurt and upset. Maybe my being able to 'recover' more quickly means I've grown and matured in my faith..who knows. Either way, I'm glad I was able to move past  all of it more quickly this time, even though it hasn't been easy. There's still a part of me that's hurt and confused. I still don't understand why God would allow what happened to happen, but I'm able to put it behind me and move forward.

During all of this, someone said to me, "What shows and proves our faith is our ability to move forward and continue to praise God regardless. That's faith." This really stuck with me. It hit a chord inside me. For whatever reason, something in me wanted to prove to God I could handle a 'hard hit.' I wanted to prove I could be faithful even in my darkest hour. So instead of ignoring God and staying angry at Him, I mustered up the ounce of faith I felt I had left and stood firm on trusting Him again. And let me tell you, it's not easy. There are days, where I think I can't or don't want to trust Him because I am reminded of the 'bad' things He's allowed in my life, but I continue to strive even when part of me doubts God.

Like I said, it hasn't exactly been easy trusting God again. Although it took me a few days to trust Him again, it's still taking some time to get back to where I was before. So, I began begging God for a Word, something that will let me know He still cares, He still hears me, and that He still loves me. This was something I needed that would help me trust again. I prayed every time I went out that someone would come up to me with a Word. I would have accepted it from any one...I was so desperate to hear something from God. You might be wondering why I didn't directly ask Him for a Word. Well, I just wasn't ready yet. I needed it to come from somewhere else. I didn't have the energy to pray and I really needed God to prove Himself to me again. I wanted to see His power. I wanted something deep.

Fast forward a few days. I kept getting invited to this Bible Study/Prayer Meeting, but I kept saying no. It was on the night that we host our own Bible Study at our condo and I felt like I needed to be home. Aside from that, I was tired and drained from the day's events. I just couldn't make it. Then, toward the end of our bible study, something happened. Have you ever had a feeling like you were supposed to be some place? Or maybe a feeling that you were supposed to leave a place? Or maybe a feeling inside that told you to take another way home and you found out later you avoided an accident? I guess you could say that I had some feeling inside of me that told me I needed to get to that meeting.

I debated going. I had stayed for our bible study and it was getting late. I wasn't sure anyone would be at the other bible study I was invited to, but the feeling inside me told me to go. So, I went. I got there two hours after it started and everyone was still there, by no mistake, I'm sure.

I talked to several people and it was so refreshing. I felt good just being there. Then, I was prayed for. I didn't really expect anything to come out of being prayed for, to be honest. I just thought, oh, all these awesome people are just going to pray for me and that will be it. But a few seconds into the prayer, God gave someone a Word for me. I listened carefully as this man I just met gave me this Word. At first, I was a little confused on where he was going with this Word, but then it all made sense.

The reason I was confused in the beginning was because I did not expect God to say something so personal. Of all the things that God could have told me, He chose to address something that was so personal and important to me. He really did care about me. He really did love me. And He gave me a Word I needed to hear that would help me love Him and trust Him again. This changed me.

I still can't believe God chose to give me a Word based on something so personal. The people praying for me, were actually praying for something totally unrelated to what the Word was! It just reminds me how I serve such a personal God. A God who wants a personal relationship with me...little ol me. I'm nothing special, but God, the creator of the universe, wants a personal relationship with ME! It's just amazing.

So as awesome as this post would have been if things would have worked out the way I had hoped, I'm kinda glad they didn't. I think this post is even more awesome since things didn't work out like planned. I learned something through it all and God proved Himself to me once again. And to top it off, I received a Word specifically for me from God. That's pretty awesome!

My Baby Boy - Caleb's Birth Story

My EDD was Tuesday, March 29. Since I had been dilated almost 2 cm and effaced 75% for 3 weeks, I assumed Caleb would come early, and I wasn't the only one who thought this. Each week at my doctor's appointments, my midwives assured me that I would not be late, and that I would most likely deliver early. I had no problem with this. In fact at 37 weeks, I was ready to be done being pregnant. Don't get me wrong, being pregnant is the most exciting, beautiful thing in the world, but at 37 weeks, I was uncomfortable, my back ached terribly unless I was lying down, and I desperately wanted my body back. So I mentally, physically, and emotionally prepared to have my first born son earlier than expected.
As my EDD got closer, I was getting more and more anxious. So the weekend before, I made a list of everything I knew that could induce labor. You name it, I tried...except for the castor oil. I heard that makes life 'interesting' when it comes to your bowels and I wasn't down with that. So my darling husband and I walked, jogged, bounced, jumped, squatted, bounced some more, 'did the deed' (if you know what I'm sayin), and walked some more. I had a few Braxton Hicks, but that was it. Nothing else.

My DD came and went and I was distraught. I needed to see a light at the end of this very long tunnel so I begged my midwife to schedule an induction for me. I didn't want or plan for an induction, but I was getting desperate and like I said, I needed to see an end. One was scheduled for me on April 4, a week after my DD.

I was so sure I was having little man before his DD that I actually slept on a pile of towels in anticipation of my water breaking in the middle of the night. Of course my efforts were all in vain because that never happened. I woke up the morning after my EDD at 8am (March 30) and decided there was one last thing I could try to induce labor and that one thing kinda freaked me out. My sister in law had suggested it and although it freaked me out, I was desperate so I tried it. You're wondering what it is, right? I'm gonna keep it real here for a moment and just say, I did the nipple stimulation thing. It was weird and very awkward, but I was by myself so I thought what the hay?!

Well let me tell you, it worked, 10 seconds later I was having contractions. They were 8 minutes apart for about an hour. At first I was in denial that it could actually be time, especially because the 'feelings' I was experiencing were not at all like cramps like some people described. The sensations I was feeling felt like my butt was falling off. Weird, right?

Anyway, once the sensations stopped, I decided to have a light breakfast and then take a nap. If this was the real thing, I wanted to be well rested, so 10 minutes after the contractions stopped, I was back asleep. I slept about an hour and a half only to be woken up by more contractions. They weren't painful, just kept feeling like my butt was falling off. I didn't bother timing them because they didn't hurt, but I made it my plan to just stay home and hang out to see what happened.

The contractions were sporadic and varied in intensity. Some I could barely feel, some made me bend over, but overall, I was fine. At around 2 pm, I had one intense contraction that made me bend over and breath through it. This one contraction made me cancel my chiropractor appointment later that afternoon. I did NOT want to be on the table having contractions and not be able to breath or walk through it.

When I called to cancel, the receptionist that I had become friendly with got really excited when I told her I thought I might be in labor. She yelled into the receiver, "Get walking girl!" Honestly, up until this point, walking was not on my list of things to do. I was tired and just feeling blah, but I figured she was right, so I got out our treadmill and started walking. I walked for an hour, took a break, then walked another hour. Walking was just the thing I needed because as soon as I started walking, the contractions got closer together and were longer. I timed them using the timer on the treadmill and noticed they were about 4-5 minutes apart about 1-1:30 minutes long. Most of them I could barely feel, but I did have a few that made me have to stop and bend over to breath through.

After two hours of walking, I took a shower, and got ready to hopefully go to the hospital. My husband came home from work as I was straightening my hair. He asked me how I was doing and I told him I was alright and that I wasn't convinced this was the real thing. He suggested we time the contractions for an hour and see what happens. So we did just that, and after an hour we noticed they were 4 minutes apart, about 1 and 1/2 minutes long. He told me to call my doctor.

When I called my doc and told her what was going on, she told me to head to the hospital to get checked. So my husband and I packed up a few more things and headed to the hospital. One the way, I was praying for longer, stronger, more intense contractions because I still wasn't convinced I was in real labor. If there was ever a time I regretted praying for something, this was that time. Right after I prayed, I got hit with the hardest contraction yet. I remember looking down at my feet in the car and thinking that my butt was going to somehow come out of them. It hurt and I desperately wanted to walk through it, but we were on a major highway, and there was no shoulder. Walking wasn't an option. Luckily, I didn't have another contraction like that one.

We arrived at the hospital. This is where it gets interesting. As soon as we walked through the doors, I decided I was NOT going home. If they turned me away and told me I was going to be pregnant for a few more days, I would have died right then and there. So in an attempt to make sure I wasn't getting sent home, I decided to 'act' like I was in full on hard labor, even though the contractions were painless up until that point (aside from a few intense ones here and there). I bent over like I was dying. I whispered instead of talking loudly. At one point, I told my husband to talk for me because I was too busy selling the idea of me being in hard labor. I made faces like I was in pain. At another point, I fell to the floor, like I was in agony and I made little moans, even though I was totally fine. Looking back, it had to be pretty funny to see this. I must have been doing a good job though because even my husband was buying it.

Finally, in triage and my midwife came in to check my cervix. I was 5 cm! I remember thinking, dang, I got to 5 cm on my own and it was relatively painless, maybe I can do this naturally! But then I remembered all the horror stories I heard and read and fear took over and I asked for an epidural. Do I regret it? A little bit because I do think I could have done it naturally, but honestly, I was just too scared. Everything was so new to me. This was my first baby and I was scared about every little thing simply because I had never experienced it before.

I actually didn't get the epidural for 2 more hours and had progressed to 6 cm by the time I got it, all with little pain. Once I got the epidural, my labor stalled. That's when things got complicated. Caleb's heart rate dropped with each contraction and since I wasn't progressing I was put on pitocin and oxygen. I hated every bit of this. The oxygen mask made me nauseous and the pitocin made me concerned for Caleb. To top it off, I started feeling pain on my left side pretty badly. The anesthesiologist came to give me something for the pain. Whatever he gave me caused my blood pressure to drop dangerously low (something like 50/40). I felt like I was going to die. I remember looking over at him and thinking 'HELP!' but I couldn't talk and everything was going black. I remember everything around him and his trainee was all blurred and I could only see him and the trainee woman talking. He was telling her he knew that my blood pressure might drop so he came prepared. Once he saw me looking like he death, he walked over with some other needle, placed it in my IV and within 5 seconds, I was feeling golden again.

At that point, I started shaking uncontrollably. It was horrible and it was sucking up what little energy I had left. People started praying for me and I stopped shaking. Then, the nurse came in and told me if I didn't progress soon, I was going to need a C-section. I started crying hysterically. I did NOT want a C-section! Again, people started praying and within 10 minutes I was dilated to 7-8. I praised God over and over.

In an instant, a bunch of nurses came in and started prepping my room for the delivery of my baby boy. My midwife checked me again and I was 9 and a half cm. I needed to start pushing. Caleb was still in distress because the cord was wrapped his neck twice, so he had to come fast. I had no urge to push, but my midwife hoped I could push him down.

At this point, I was drained. From the drugs to the shaking to the drama, I wanted a nap, but here I was in the middle of popping out a baby and there was no time for naps. I started pushing not even knowing if I was doing a good job or not. I just pushed like they did in the movies. My midwife and nurse counted to 10. I remember they were counting REALLY slow and by 4 or 5 I was huffing and puffing. I couldn't hold my breath that long! I remember wondering how other women hold their breath til 10, because if I did that, I would have passed out.

Caleb's heart rate dropped during each contraction and pushing made it worse so I was forced to flop from side to side in between contractions. I hated this. Here I was 9 months pregnant. Flopping from side to side was near impossible on a normal day at nine months pregnant, let alone when your legs are numb. The nurse and my darling husband had to flip me. I just wanted to relax during my breaks, but that wasn't happening.

Then, the midwife asked me to push while I was on my side. I dreaded this and I hoped I wouldn't have to do this. I had seen baby story after baby story on TLC and many women pushed on their side, with their leg up, like they were peeing like a dog. As if spreading your legs for all the world to see wasn't bad enough, here I was holding my one leg up in the air like I was a dog peeing on a fire hydrant. Luckily, I was no good pushing this way and rolled back on my back.

As I continued to push, my midwife informed that a few extra people would be in the room to examine my baby because there was meconium when they broke my water. I said OK, but my real thoughts were please shut up. I pushed some more. Then, my midwife told me I'd need an episiotomy. I said, 'whatever.' My real thoughts? Please shut up.

Thirty minutes had gone by since I started pushing and my midwife could tell I was getting tired. She was an absolute saint because she did let me rest at some points by not flipping me and allowing me to not push during some contractions. I loved her for this. Little did she know though, that I was actually trying to fall asleep. It was 2:30 AM and it had been a long night.

I started praying really hard that Caleb would slide on out without me pushing, but it wasn't happening. I had to push. I started pushing again and did so for 10 minutes. After that, I was done. I couldn't do it anymore. I remember looking up into the big bright light shining down on me and saying, "Jesus, I can't do this anymore, You have to do this for me. I got nothing left." Another push. Nothing. I prayed again. "JESUS! Did you hear me?! I can't do this anymore! Where are you?!" Another push and my son was born.

First came relief as I threw my head back on the pillow and let out the biggest sigh ever. Then, I cried when I heard my son's first cry. It was the most beautiful thing in the world and I remember thinking, "That's MY baby." I held him for a minute before they whisked him away. He was a little white and they needed to check him since the cord had been wrapped around his neck and meconium in my water. Soon after he was back in my arms. It was pure bliss!

Side note: I had no idea until later that Caleb's head was out after I had said my first prayer. No one told me though! So Jesus did in fact answer my prayer.