A Beautiful Mess

Hi my name is Gina. At the urge of my beautiful sister in law, I started reading this book called "Carry On, Warrior: The Power of Embracing Your Messy, Beautiful Life." I was hesitant to read it at first because immediately upon receiving this book, I thought, "my life is fine. I don't need this book" I was wrong. After reading only the first few chapters, I decided to share something with you. I'm sharing it because I want you to know you aren't alone in hiding a messy life. We all do it. We all hide our imperfections. And the first step in healing that messy part of your life is realizing what's messy. Sometimes it's something we don't even realize until God reveals it to us.

So, here I go. And please know this is totally and completely uncomfortable for me, but if it helps someone, than it's worth it.

My name is Gina and I'm a mess. My skeletons? I had an eating disorder. And I'm afraid to this day it'll creep back up on me. I battle it daily. I'm like an addict. It's always there. I had sex before I was married and it messed me up. I had sex because it made me feel pretty and I thought it would make the guys I was having sex with like me more. I view sex as everything other than what God intended it for. Because of my sexual past, I feel gross about myself. After six years of marriage, I still don't understand why my husband loves me so much after what I did with guys other than him. I'm still recovering. I drank way too much because I thought it made me look cool and it helped me forget the depression I was battling in college. The morning afters were the worst. I contemplated suicide every time. I've held knives to my wrists. Instead of killing myself, I binge ate and had sex. I smoked pot because my boyfriend dealt it. There were times I tried to smoke and drink myself to death because I didn't want to face the next morning and that horrible, empty feeling.

Those are my skeletons. I've given them over to God and literally said, "here, take this mess, and make it beautiful." He's currently working on it.

Hi, my name is Gina and I am a Beautiful Mess.

Prayer and Raising Boys

You're probably gonna think I'm crazy, but please hear me out.

My son is three. I wouldn't say he's a 'typical boy' in that he eats dirt and shovels everything into his mouth. However, he is ALL boy and he loves to play rough with anyone and anything he comes in contact with. Sometimes it's like a light switch that goes off in him and when it does, move all the babies out of the way. He's not a malicious child and people have made it a point to tell us this. He's not mean spirited or evil (for goodness sake, he's my cuddler), he's just a BOY. He thinks rolling over top of his eight month old brother is hilarious and he does it because he's trying to 'play' with him. He'll run full speed into someone with his hand out and try to 'tag' them 'it' while unknowingly smacking them in the face. In the same step, he'll look behind him to see if that child is chasing after him and run full speed into the little girl in front of him.

I'm not making excuses for him, I promise. I used to drive myself crazy telling him to calm down every five seconds of the day. It caused me so much anxiety and stress. I'd cry at night wondering what the heck was wrong with my child while everyone swore he was 'just a boy,' but that didn't stop the 'you should have your parenting license revoked' stares I'd get at the playground. I'd call my husband at work crying on the way home from the playground completely embarrassed and distraught. I really thought there was something wrong with my son. He didn't understand how to play nice and calm no matter how many times I smacked his hand or put him in time out. I'd pray night and day for wisdom as to how I should raise my son and I still do, but nothing I did worked. I begged God for help and wondered why I was constantly failing. Why were everyone elses kids perfectly behaved and mine couldn't seem to control himself? What was I doing wrong.

Then, one night I had a dream. God revealed to me what was going on with my son. God showed me how Satan was getting to him, while I was completely unaware. And it came from a place I least expected it.

Technology. I'm not one of those 'granola mommies' (although I respect them). I believe in moderation when it comes to a lot of things. As a teacher, I believe technology can be a great learning tool and I allow my son to utilize our Nexus. It has child protection locks and he can't get to anything he's not supposed to, but even with the "child protection lock" on YouTube, the Ads are not child protected. My son was seeing Victoria Secret Ads and previews for movies about people who were demon possessed. That was how Satan was getting to my son.

A lot of people might think I'm crazy for thinking that has anything to do with his behavior, but being with him all day every day, I can see a significant change in his behavior since I deleted the YouTube app. Others have noted his good behavior as well.

This post isn't about bashing YouTube (we still watch it..TOGETHER) or technology. It's not about behavior in little boys. It's about praying, seeking God, and asking Him for wisdom on how to raise our future generation. And it takes perseverance. I can't tell you how many times I cried over his behavior before I had that dream. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to throw in the towel and just accept that my son was just an 'out of control three year old boy." I can't even begin to explain the struggle and frustration I faced as a mom through all of this. But God helped me. He gave me insight and wisdom. And I am so grateful I have Jesus to depend on. Knowing He has my boys in His hands is the most comforting thing in the world, even when those difficult times arise in the season of being a mom.

So if you get anything out of this post get this: don't give up on yourself as a parent. Pray. Ask God for wisdom. Seek Him. Ask Him for help and hand your children over to Him. He has yet to let me down and I know if you trust Him, He won't let you down either. Praying should be our first option as parents, not our last.

Call It A Christmas Miracle - Two Days Late

As many of our friends and family know, 2013 was a tough year for us. As it came to a close, we hoped that we would be able to enjoy what was left of the month of December. Although three houses fell through for us and John's job situation didn't work out (again), we looked forward to enjoying the Christmas season with family and close friends. Despite the rainy weather, we enjoyed my annual birthday dinner in Cape May mid December and we rejoiced in finding amazing renters for our condo.

As we began packing up our condo in anticipation for our big move across a few towns to my parents house, sickness struck the Wilson household. As if 2013 wasn't hard enough, Caleb developed a terrible, double ear infection that sent him to Urgent Care the weekend before Christmas. Although it was awful to see him in pain and not acting like his normal feisty self, I thanked God it was just an ear infection and that he would be back to normal in a few days thanks to some antibiotics.

That was only the beginning.

Caleb visited Urgent Care the Saturday before Christmas. Aaron was there the next day. I prayed and hoped it was also an ear infection (like Caleb had), but it was much worse.

Aaron threw up the week before Christmas. Although it was a lot for a little baby, it was random and only once so we figured maybe he had eaten too much. The following day it happened again and although we were concerned we figured it was just a bug. By Saturday though, he was vomiting more than once a day and it was everything he was eating and more.

I started getting concerned and was praying it was just an ear infection, although deep down I knew it was more serious then that. By Sunday, Aaron was wincing in pain and throwing up constantly. It was scary so I took him to Urgent Care.

Before I left, I changed him and I noticed his stomach was distended. I had a feeling I should take him to the ER, but for whatever reason I went to Urgent Care first. As soon as I got there things got bad. Aaron hadn't eaten in six hours and for a breastfed baby, that was a long time. I tried to feed him, but as soon as I got him in position, he threw up everywhere and all over me. In the midst of all that, I was trying to fill out paper work while catching vomit. I was sweating and held back tears as I tried to help my screaming baby. I literally felt like I was in the middle of a nightmare.

Thankfully, everyone around me noticed and tried to help. All the employees at Urgent Care and a few people waiting did things to help me. I called John and asked him to meet me. I was losing it. I tried talking to the woman next to me to distract myself from all that was going on, but in the midst of our conversation, I could feel tears running down my cheeks. The sleepless nights and having my baby scream in pain and not having a clue how to help him was devastating. All of that frustration came to a head at Urgent Care. I was desperate to help my baby.

It wasn't long after that we got called back to see the doctor. "Randomly," but definitely by an act of God, Aaron and Caleb's pediatrician was at Urgent Care that day. He knew us and our children well and it was a relief to see a familiar face. John arrived as our doctor walked in. Ten thousand pounds were lifted from my shoulders. Hopefully, we could find out what was going on.

The pediatrician took one look at Aaron and told us there was something very wrong. He did an external exam and noticed his distended stomach and told us to head to the hospital right away. The ten thousand pounds that were lifted felt like it all returned. We knew there was something terribly wrong.

John and I made our way to Shore Memorial hospital and were seen right away. Aaron threw up a few times while we were there and continued to wince in pain. The doctors took x-rays and hooked him up to an IV. I almost threw up watching them try and put that IV in his arm. It was the worst thing I feel like I ever witnessed.

We were told the x-rays of his stomach came back fine as did all the tests. They wanted to do an ultrasound of his distended belly, but they told us they didn't have the technology to do it (something I still don't quite understand today). They let him finish the IV and sent us home. Aaron seemed better, although his stomach was still distended.

As I was driving home, I heard him throw up again. I prayed it was just me being paranoid, but when we got home, I was right. He threw up EVERYWHERE. I was so frustrated but hoped it was the last time. I changed Aaron when we got home and started to walk into the living room from Aaron's changing table to settle down for the night. Before I sat down, he threw up all over the place again. Why was this happening?!

We had had such long nights with Aaron and decided that unless it continued, we'd stay home for the night instead of heading back to the hospital. Thankfully, things didn't get worse.

The next few days before Christmas were a blur. I started to get sick and Aaron kept throwing up. It got to the point where I would nurse him and purposely pull him on and off so he didn't projectile vomit right back on me (which happened most of the time anyway). I'd pray so hard every time he nursed for him to hold it down and when he didn't, I'd cry and get upset. Every nursing session was draining both physically and emotionally. But the doctors seemed to think it was a bug, so we just waited for this 'bug' to pass, although it had been five days of almost constant projectile vomit.

In the midst of all this mess, we started packing up our condo in anticipation to move to my parents. We were supposed to move before Christmas, but with the kids being sick and then me feeling under the weather, not much got packed and we pushed the date back. Luckily, our renters were more than accommodating.

Christmas Eve came and the usual festivities took place. I wanted to stay home, but all of the kids' Christmas presents were at my parent's house since we were supposed to be there for Christmas anyway. We went to the annual Christmas Eve party at my moms, but because of how sick Aaron was, I spent a majority of the night upstairs in the nursery with him. I was upset I missed the fun, but was completely distracted by my sick baby. I just wanted him to be well.

Christmas morning came and Aaron still wasn't better. It was difficult to enjoy the day knowing how sick he was. I had a hard time taking pictures of Caleb as I constantly looked back at Aaron wondering if he was okay (my mom held Aaron while John and I tried to focus on Caleb opening his gifts). We spent most of the day at home and didn't travel like we normally do on Christmas. Christmas night, Aaron continued to throw up every time I fed him. It was officially a week since he started throwing up. I was doubtful it was just a 'bug.'

The morning after Christmas Aaron projectile vomited all over me in the midst of nursing. Frustrated and upset, I called the doctor at four in the morning. The doc on call didn't get back to me right away so I decided to head to the ER. I was desperate to see my baby back to normal.

John and I headed to the hospital and Aaron continued to projectile vomit. When we got there, we waited in the back for a bit to see the doctor even though it wasn't busy. While we waited, we searched our phones for answers to why Aaron was vomiting so much. We found a disorder called pyloric stenosis that causes consistent projectile vomiting and Aaron matched the symptoms perfectly. We were convinced this was what he had. Everything that had been happening to Aaron was just a confirmation of this disorder. We knew we wanted an ultrasound to be sure.

As we continued to wait, I asked John when he thought we would be sent home. I was desperate to get home and enjoy at least some of the holiday season and resume life as normal. He looked at me and said, "they are going to admit Aaron and we are going to be here overnight."

Call it a gut feeling or hearing from God, but sometimes John just KNOWS things are going to happen, and this time, he just KNEW we were going to be admitted. As much as I didn't want to believe him, I knew he was right. There we were, the day after Christmas, still trying to pack and move, and we were going to be admitted. I looked at him and burst into tears, "why is this happening to us?!" He looked at me, then looked down and said, "I don't know, but church has been really encouraging lately, although the rest of our lives are shattering to pieces." Clearly, we were being attacked.

A short time after that, the pediatric doctor came in, took one look at Aaron and said, "why is he breathing like that?" "Like what?" I said. "Like that. Has he been breathing like that for awhile?" Huhh? I was so confused. Then, he asked me if I was sick too, in which I brushed off and said, "yeah, I have a cold."

I was so focused on the projectile vomit, that I failed to recognize the fact that Aaron was having trouble breathing. I thought he was dry heaving, not wheezing. Aaron was tested for RSV-pneumonia and it came back positive. John was right, we were going to be admitted. We immediately asked about getting an ultra sound for his belly which was ordered after we were taken to our room.

All the babies on the pediatric unit had RSV. There were about six or seven of us there which was a little encouraging. It was comforting to know there were others facing what we were facing and they seemed to be holding it together. Except Aaron was a little different with the vomiting issue. I asked everyone who came into our room if RSV caused projectile vomit. Over and over again, I was told 'No,' which convinced me even more he had pyloric stenosis.

A few hours after we got to our room, they took Aaron down for an ultrasound to check for pyloric stenosis. I was happy we were finally getting an ultrasound, something we should had gotten several days earlier when we visited the ER the first time. They wheeled him in, stripped him down, squirted jelly on him, and rolled the little wand over his belly. I looked at the screen in search of something, anything, that looked out of sorts, but I had no idea what I was looking at. I looked back and forth from the screen to the Tech and back again. She wasn't saying anything and I couldn't read her facial expressions. I was desperate for some answers.

Finally after about ten minutes she looked at me and said, "It looks like he has pyloric stenosis, but there's a lot of gas bubbles in there so we are going to confirm tomorrow with another ultrasound." "What does that mean?" I asked. "It means he has pyloric stenosis."

I was relieved we had found an answer, but also scared of an impending surgery on my three month old. Also, the surgery would have to be done at CHOP and after all we had been through, the thought of traveling there was daunting.

A short time after the ultrasound, the doctor came in and confirmed Aaron's diagnosis. He called it 'borderline pyloric stenosis' since they wanted to confirm with another ultrasound the next day, but he was pretty sure that's what Aaron had. We immediately asked people to pray.

We were relieved we had an answer, but surgery scared us a bit, especially on a three month old baby. We, without a doubt, felt the prayers going up for us, because both John and I talked about the overwhelming peace we had about the whole thing. God was 110% in control and we knew our baby would be fine.

I wasn't allowed to feed Aaron for 24 hours until his next ultrasound which was upsetting to both of us. And since he was all hooked up to IVs and various machines, I couldn't hold him. Luckily, Aaron was tired enough from everything he'd been through and slept the best he slept since he got sick (which still wasn't great).

Since Aaron was so small and couldn't (and shouldn't) go too long without eating, he was first to get an ultrasound the next day. The nurse wheeled him down to the ultrasound room as I prayed and walked behind them. We got to the room and the same procedures as the day before happened again. As soon as the wand hit his belly, I searched the screen for something that looked out of the ordinary. Again, I had no idea what I was looking at. I looked at the Tech doing the ultrasound and tried to read her facial expressions. She was expressionless. Five minutes later, she was done.

The Tech wiped off the jelly from Aaron's belly and didn't say anything. I was waiting for her to tell me what was going on, but the room remained silent. Finally after what felt like forever, Aaron's nurse spoke up. "So what's going on with this little guy?" she asked. The ultrasound Tech responded, "Well, whatever was there yesterday and whatever they saw, isn't there today." They continued to talk as if this wasn't some sort of miracle! Aaron's nurse said, "Oh, so there's nothing there? No pyloric stenosis?" "No pyloric stenosis. He's fine. It's all clear."

What?! I almost dropped dead. Part of me wanted to shake them. Didn't they realize what just happened?!

I was beyond elated that Aaron's ultrasound was clear and that there would be no impending surgery. The doctor came in a few hours later and confirmed what the Tech had reported. The doctor did an external exam and Aaron seemed to be fine. All symptoms of the disorder we really felt he had, were no longer present. I couldn't believe it. I had fully prepared myself for the diagnosis and yet, he was fine. Both John and I really felt and thought he had this disorder and were completely prepared to face whatever obstacles this disorder presented. I was shocked, but so happy!

We ended up staying in the hospital a few more days because of the RSV which was terribly dreadful, but the prayers going up for us certainly carried us through. When they finally discharged us, we practically ran through the front doors without looking back!

There never was an explanation for the vomiting. No one had any answers. All we know is that we went into the hospital with a very sick baby who was throwing up constantly and we left with a baby that was miraculously healed.

We cannot thank everyone enough for the prayers. It was beyond comforting and we are so appreciative! The private messages and emails were also a huge comfort and encouragement to me as I sat with my sick baby in that awful hospital room. Personally speaking, I would have never made it through without the prayers carrying us through this battle.

And yes, it was made clear to John and I this was clearly an attack. As I mentioned earlier, John had said church was encouraging at the time but the rest of our lives were shattering.

When we planted our church, we knew we'd have a giant target on our back. We knew we'd face trials we never faced before. And we knew we'd struggle. Knowing all of this, I begged God, that in the midst of inevitable attacks, that He spare my children. "Please God," I begged, "don't allow my children to suffer."

I fully expected God to protect my children. And for a long time, I thought He failed me. However, looking back, I realize He did protect my children. Yes, Aaron got sick. Yes, it was hell for a few weeks, but Aaron is perfectly fine. Aaron was miraculously healed and if that's not an amazingly, awesome example of God's protection, I don't know what is.

God was there every step of the way even though I questioned His power and protection over our lives. He has proven to me that He is in control, He is sovereign, and He is most definitely present in my life.

Thank you God for being with me in this trial! Thank you for your peace, presence and Holy Spirit comforting me. Thank you for proving Yourself to me once again!

I write all this to encourage you, to let you know God is out there and is working! Please allow Him to work in Your life! You won't be disappointed!

I never thought I'd share this now

As I stood in my parents kitchen last New Year's Eve surrounded by family having a great time, I thought to myself that 2013 was going to be a good year. I don't know why I felt that way, but I did, and I was certain that God would have His beautiful way with our lives.

I couldn't have been more wrong...well sort of.

2013 started out like normal. Two weeks into the month of January, I found out I was pregnant. We were thrilled since we had planned this baby. We rejoiced and couldn't believe it happened so quickly. We kept it a secret for a week to let it really sink in, then we shared the news with family. Everyone was happy for us and we were so giddy.

Right after we shared our wonderful news with family, the problems started. I was plagued with what felt like every pregnancy symptom out there. I was so confused as to why I was having such a tough beginning because my first pregnancy was a walk in the park. Plus, before I got pregnant, I prayed and asked God to spare me the awful symptoms and expected that He would.

Well, for whatever reason God decided that my pregnancy was going to be anything but easy. After the initial aches and pains of the first trimester, I developed twenty cysts on my ovaries and experienced excruciating pain. It was so bad, I prayed to die.

At that time, it was only February and already the year that I thought was going to go so well was turning out to be pretty bad.

I did get prayed for and the cysts eventually shrunk, but around the same time, a building in our development went up in flames. This scared me to death and I soon became fearful our building was next. I secretly went over scenarios as to how I would get my family out of our condo in the case of a fire. It consumed me and every night I had trouble sleeping.

I thought after my cysts shrunk that things would get better, but with the fire and all that I experienced with my pregnancy so far, I was traumatized. I developed serious anxiety and started seeing a therapist. I wasn't allowed to take any medication because I was pregnant and 'talking' about it all didn't help. There were days I wanted to jump out of my skin because I couldn't handle the stresses of the day. I really felt like I was losing control and I didn't feel like myself at all. My husband shared later on that it was hard to interact with me because I was such a mess. I really wasn't myself.

Finally, in September, Aaron was born and it seemed as if things were getting better. I didn't experience any baby blues or postpartum like I thought I would considering all that I went through. I was completely in love with my new baby. Finally, this year is going to turn out they way I initially thought!

I was wrong.

Shortly after Aaron was born, we found that our condo was closing in on our family of four. We needed a bigger space. We started talking with realtors and mortgage people about selling our place and finding a house. We came to find out that we were so far under water with our mortgage and that condos in our development were going for half of what we paid for it. We bought when the market was still high and we were pretty much stuck. There was no way we were selling our condo.

We explored different options and found that renting our place was the best option and when our neighbors told us they'd rent it from us starting Jan. 1, we were thrilled. We started looking for houses and quickly fell in love with one. It seemed perfect for us. As you can imagine, as we pursued this house, it fell through and we couldn't get a mortgage for it. It just cost too much. We were devastated, but we explored more of our options.

We started looking at cheaper houses and found another house we really liked. Again it seemed perfect for us. As you can imagine, again, it didn't work out. We were sad, but we felt we still had options, so we kept looking.

Again we looked at another house. It seemed perfect for our little family. Everything seemed to be able to work out with this house and we moved forward with a mortgage. Eventually, after our request for a mortgage went to the underwriters, we found that because we had negative equity in our condo, we couldn't qualify. We were devastated. Basically, we were stuck in this condo until we paid it down.

I cried for hours and couldn't even talk about it. Just after it seemed like things were going to get better, our lives were flipped upside down again. The second half of the year was worse than the first.

We decided that even though we couldn't get a house that we would still rent out our condo so we could eventually claim it as income when we went to qualify for a new mortgage in the future.

Eventually, we moved on from the idea of owning a house and just tried to get through the rest of the year in one piece.

Then, there was news at John's job that layoffs were happening, and people would be switched around and shuffled. At first, we weren't concerned about John's job, but as things progressed, we became worried. Two new positions opened up at work and both would have been promotions for John. He interviewed for both and was passed up for a new guy who hadn't even been around for a year. John's boss got shuffled and now John would be working for the new guy, who had plans to change everything in his department.

Luckily, John currently has a job, but the devastation that came with being passed up for a promotion that went to a guy who hadn't been around as long as John, was just terrible. I cried.

This year hasn't been a good one. I've found myself crying more than I think I ever have. I've found myself anxious, fearful, worried, depressed, and simply not myself.

As we continue this year and I look at what's ahead, I've become more depressed. At 31 with two kids and a husband, we are moving into my parents basement until we figure life out. And although many of our friends have done this and there is absolutely nothing wrong with it, it hurts when I look back at my life and think that at 31, I didn't see myself in this situation. The market shouldn't have crashed. We should have a home, a dog, and a white picket fence by now.

I've waited a whole year for this 'testimony' to have a happy ending so I could share it with everyone. But one day, when I was praying for John's job prospect, God revealed that the best testimonies aren't always those with a happy ending. In fact, it's the ones where life got tough and people stood the test of time and remained strong in their faith that were great testimonies. And although I wish this testimony had a happy ending, you can clearly see, by earthly standards it doesn't. But God did have His beautiful way with our lives this year. And although there were so many times I wanted to quit, throw in the towel, give up on God, got mad at God, screamed at God, wondered what in the world God was doing, I can say, despite all of the mess and heartbreak we've experienced, we still love God, we still serve Him, we still know He is faithful, and we still trust and believe in Him.

So although this year didn't turn out according to plan, I can confidently say that I am grateful for these trials because it has brought John and I closer. It has grown us both spiritually and has allowed me to see God in a new way. And I find that those thing are more important than any house or an easy pregnancy.

If you are reading this, you can pray for us. Pray for guidance, acceptance, and peace.

Meeting With Jesus In My Dreams

Whenever I really 'buckle down' and get back on track with Jesus (i.e read more, pray more, worship more) I always end up having these crazy dreams about Jesus. Some of them make total sense and some are just kind of random. Last night I had one of those random dreams.

It saddens me to say that I haven't had a dream where I met with Jesus in awhile. That's because I've been really slacking. I've been so caught up in feeling so terrible with my pregnancy that I couldn't focus on anything else. But after a few good books and a deep conversation with my husband, I was encouraged to get back on track. I've started reading every day, praying more, and making it a point to listen to worship music.

This is the dream I had only after a few days of spending time with Jesus:

There were people, prisoners, pacing around to the right of me. I don't know why there were prisoners or why they were being forced to walk while all shackled together, but they were. In front of me was a line of people waiting to meet with Jesus. When I looked to the front of the line, I saw Jesus. He was glowing, like REALLY glowing. Everything was bright and white around him. I started crying hysterically. No one else in line was crying (except for one girl I didn't know). It was like they couldn't see him, but they all knew He was there. It was weird.

I remember getting in the back of the line and thinking I was glad I was in the back because then no one would see me crying. I waited to see Jesus as others went before me. Then, all of sudden Jesus walked over to the prisoners. People were still moving forward in the line to pray to Jesus. He was still there, facing the front of the line, but physically He was with the prisoners (well kind of like physically). I blinked and I saw Him walking in the midst of the prisoners. They couldn't see Him though, but I saw him (He was transparent). I remember thinking one of the prisoners must have been a Christian and must have been praying and Jesus was going over there to be with that person (or people).

I got to the front of the line while Jesus was still with the prisoners and I remember being happy about that because the overwhelming feeling I was experiencing just standing in His presence at the front of the line was so intense, my knees buckled. I couldn't stand. I knew I couldn't handle Him standing next to me. It would have been too much.

There was a woman I knew (in real life) who was there and she held my hand and she prayed for me. I remember thinking in my dream that I needed to think of a need I had to ask for prayer for, but Jesus' presence was so intense, I couldn't even think and I could barely talk. All I could say was, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus," over and over again. I was crying hysterically.

God's presence was the most intense I ever felt in my life. It was very real even though I was dreaming. It was just so intense, but it was the most AMAZING feeling in the world, like all was right with my life. It was like experiencing perfection in spiritual form. There is definitely nothing on this Earth that can make me feel like that. It was intense, but perfect and amazing.

When I was finally able to open my eyes, Jesus was standing right next to me...and He was smiling....

After that I woke up. I had such an amazing peace at that point. It was awesome. Like everything was perfect...

Now that I think about it, my dream wasn't random at all. It was intended by God, to show me He's still there, He's happy I noticed Him again and to remind me that He's always there even when we can't see Him.

Two Stories

By the title of this post, it sounds like God is doing a lot in my life. Although I am sure He does do a lot, I fail on a daily basis to see it, especially lately. I definitely need to do a better job of paying attention. Currently, I am just so caught up in preparing for baby number two and my growing toddler that I get easily distracted (and tired for that matter). There are moments when I do stop, look around, and listen and when I do, I always see God in my day. Here are two moments recently when I 'saw' Him.

I was telling my husband one day that there are these moments that I have where I'll think of something I REALLY want to get our son. A lot of the time it's silly things like a toy or something he doesn't really need, but something I want to get him because I know it'll make him smile and in turn, make my heart happy. Being a stay at home mommy, money is tight and it's hard to imagine spending what little we have left over on leisurely items.

Well, whenever I have these moments where I think about the thing I want to get our son, it's shortly after that thought that I find exactly what I'm looking for, and it's usually free! For instance, the other day I was thinking about how I wanted to get our son a wagon or one of those little ride on trikes/cars with a big handle to push him with. I was thinking the trike/car with the handle would be a better option for us since we don't have a garage, live on the second floor of a condo, and the trike/car is plastic making it easier to carry down stairs. No, my son doesn't NEED this item, I just though it would be fun to get it for him.

I want to say maybe a day or two later after this thought, John, Caleb, and I decided to 'kill time' before bedtime and go for a drive. As we were driving, we passed a house that had a few items out by the curb. It looked like maybe they had just had a yard sale and those particular items didn't sell. As I looked closer, I noticed that there was a trike with one of those handles! Exactly what I was thinking about! I told John to turn around and grab it! Of course we spent the rest of the night on the trike!

I know some people would call that a coincidence, but this happens to me a lot. There were times I was worried Caleb wouldn't have clothes and we didn't have money to buy much and then a day later someone handed me boxes full of clothes. There was the time I wanted Harvest decorations for our condo, but couldn't justify spending our extra money on something so silly and then a few days later, I found some on the side of the road someone had put by the curb. I often joke with my husband and tell him I'm going to start thinking about how I want a new house and car. LOL I believe this is God, not coincidences, by the way.

Next story.

The other night, I had a bad night. I woke up so sick. Quite a few people in my family have been sick, including my husband, so I'm not sure if it was some illness or all the peanut butter I ate (I think it may have been the peanut butter because I do have an intolerance). Anyway, I woke up and felt terribly nauseous. You know that feeling you get right before you are about to 'toss your cookies?' I had that feeling for about 10 minutes straight. Ugh, it was terrible. It's the worst feeling in the world. I would have rather been dead. I actually tried to make myself get sick just so the feeling would go away. All that ended up happening was I kept dry-heaving, the second worse feeling in the world.

I yelled up to my husband, who woke startled. I think he thought the baby was coming because he rushed downstairs pretty quickly. LOL "I'm so sick.." I said. I think part of him was sort of relieved it wasn't the baby because baby boy #2 has more cookin to do.

I started crying and thinking how I should go to the hospital because the feeling was so horrible. I figured they'd think I was crazy, so all that was left to do was pray. I really believed I was feeling sick from the peanut butter I ate so I kept telling Jesus I was sorry I ate it mid prayer. LOL It's funny looking back, but it certainly wasn't funny then. Oh heck, it was funny then. I'm surprised my husband wasn't laughing.

I paced the bathroom floor just trying to find some relief from the horrible feeling. I finally slowed down a bit because I thought if I focused enough on throwing up, it might actually happen. As soon as I slowed down, my husband put his hand on me and started praying. As soon as he did, the feeling of wanting to 'toss my cookies' disappeared. I still felt pretty horrible, but at least I felt it was safe for me to leave the bathroom and lay down on the couch.

My husband continued praying, as I continued apologizing to Jesus for eating the peanut butter. Within a few minutes of John praying for me, I was pretty much fine. My stomach was still uneasy, but I felt I was able to go back to sleep.

After I started feeling better, I stopped and really thought about what just happened. There I was, in pretty desperate situation and within minutes God healed me. This happened to me before, right before I was headed to the hospital for my cysts (the night before I knew I had them). I see a re-occurring theme going on here. Whenever I am sick and I start praying (or my husband prays), God heals me within minutes.

I underestimate God. A lot of the time I don't even bother praying because I think He won't heal me right away. I usually just suffer until I get better. However, my entire pregnancy, any time I have felt sick and prayed, God healed me quickly.

I don't know why God is choosing to heal me so quickly lately, but I'm not complaining. And I know it's Him because most people don't go from feeling like they are going to die to feeling fine in minutes. Either way, God has been proving Himself to me through these moments and I am grateful. Even as bad as those 10 minutes were, I thanked God for them, because He showed me He is still here with me and I needed that. I just wish He didn't have to go to such extremes, but it's my fault. I should have been paying attention.

The Best Thing I Read in Weeks

"God is near. His eyes are set on you and His heart delights in your very existence as His daughter. If you listen carefully, you just might hear Him applauding that one tiny step of faith you were willing to take as you walked straight through your fear. God is fully aware of where you are and what you need. Heaven is not in a panic. And when you fall, you can rest assured your Father will be there to hold you in His arms of love and strengthen you for every step of your journey."

I read this on a devotional site. I love it. I LOVE it. Did I mention, I LOVE IT? "Heaven is not in a panic." These simple words jumped off the page at me and it was exactly what I needed to read. "Heaven is not in a panic." I love it. 

I spend so much of my day stressing, worrying, being anxious (of all which I know I shouldn't be), but I can't help it. There's a lot to consider! Will my husband EVER get a job closer to home? Is that pain in my left side mean the baby growing inside me is in trouble? Will my two year old ever stop whining? And is that a turd I see in my washer? Better wash those clothes again....

As you can imagine, I find myself often overwhelmed, but reading those words today helped me relax. If the All Mighty Sovereign God, Creator of this universe is not in a panic, then why should I be? After all, He's the one in control. He's got all the systems in place running the way they should be according to HIS plan. Right?

Sometimes I think me being worried, anxious, and stressed is me trying to control things. I betcha I'd be less stressed if I just placed every detail of my day in God's hands and trusted it all happened according to God's will....

Always easier said then done of course, but I have to keep reminding myself.....