May I just start my blog by saying one big, giant Thank You! I have received countless emails, phone calls, and texts offering support and kindness and encouragement. I have had busy friends drop everything to sit and talk to me, bring me dinners, or take us out to lunch. The outpouring of kindness on the Meyer Household has been incredible. When I decided to make my struggle with this life altering sickness more public than private, I never imagined how blessed I would be by peoples generosity with their time and resources. I knew God wanted me to share because this is MY story and God will be Glorified in it. Not for a moment did I stop and think about what a blessing it would be to have friends and family praying for me all around the country (and world) in a time where that really is exactly what we need. So, THANK YOU. I know I have been bad about replying to every single email or message but I figured, a general thank you would suffice. Know that your kindness has changed our outlook on this entire process.
To catch you up on the medical side of things...
I started my hormone treatments a week ago today. I get an injection of the devil medicine one time every month. The medication is supposed to literally put my body through menopause instantaneously with the hope that the tumors will begin to die off. The tumors grow off of the estrogen that my body produces. My body is producing too much estrogen which is literally fueling the fire. The injections I am receiving are stopping that production completely and basically starving the tumors for 3 months until my body is strong enough to endure surgery.
Menopause is horrible. I imagine it is unpleasant to slowly go through these changes...but to walk into the doctors office as a 'normal' 25 year old and leave as a menopausal woman experiencing my own personal summers in the middle of November is horrible. I am nauseated by the quick changes, I cry for no good reason, and I just feel off. I sent contracts to my close friends and family making them swear that after 3 months of this they will still love me and not judge my irrational behavior!
I have had several people express their surprise that my surgery was done so quickly...to that I say, "Me too." The doctor felt it was necessary to break my surgery into 2 parts. That decision was made very quickly and within the week I was having the procedure. This first surgery was the 'easy' one in which he removed one of the tumors causing me the most problems. It sat low enough that he was able to go in with minimal damaged and remove parts of it. That should allow space for the rest of my organs to be okay and no longer be pushed out of the way. The next surgery is way more invasive and will require much more recovery time.
I am still exhausted and ready for bed at around 6 pm every night, but everyday I feel a little stronger. I think my determination not to let this run my life helps me get through the pain. I am working extra hours to get ready to take 6 weeks off but honestly, filling up my time helps. The less time I have alone to sit and feel sorry for myself, the better.
That sort of covers the medical side of things...as for the emotional side....
I have spent the past week or so really being convicted of my attitude. Life often is not what we wanted it to be. We are constantly faced with bad news, pink slips, funerals, divorce, rejection letters, miscarriages, painful break ups, or the ending of dear relationships. Those challenges don't go away. I have never met a person who was untouched by these painful experiences. The key in all of this, I am starting to discover is our attitude. I have every reason to be as angry as a hippo with all that is taking place in our lives right now. I feel icky most of the time. I am tired. I have little desire to do anything other than sleep. Yet, I refuse to let that run my life.
I am living in the midst of some really sweet firsts. I am experiencing my first year of marriage to a rock star of a husband. I am a first time home owner trying desperately to find the perfect pictures to hang on the walls. I am experiencing my first year in a new (and wonderful) family. If I let this year be about doctors visits, blood work, IV's, hormone injections, and pain, then the tumors win. I am defeated and for the rest of my life I will remember the pain and not the good. I choose to separate my desire to feel sorry for myself and embrace the joy that God has given me. I choose to go to Grandma's for Halloween the day after my surgery because the tumors will not win. I choose to look at a brand new baby and fight the urge to feel jealous and angry because GOD has a plan, and "my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways." (Isaiah 55:8)
Believe me, it is a challenge. Some days I wake up more willing and ready to fight than other days. But I will win. The tumors will not cast a shadow on all the joyful things this life has to offer me. I refuse to have it any other way.
"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: (in case you didn't hear me the first time...) REJOICE!"
(Philippians 4:4)
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Dragging...
The theme of this blog is dragging...physically, emotionally, and even spiritually.
I had part one of my surgery last week. Friday morning Josh woke me up about an hour before we had to get up. Truthfully, I am sure neither of us were really sleeping, but we played the part. Laying like sausages in our warm and safe home knowing that morning would eventually come and we would eventually be making our way to the hospital and inevitably saying our goodbyes before being separated by doctors and nurses and anesthesiologists. We held hands and cried as he read me promises from God's Word that comforted my fears and reminded me that we serve a God who works miracles- especially for Sarah and Hannah and even the Virgin Mary. He prayed for me, because I could not. It was a beautiful picture of love- from the outside looking in. From the inside, it was what we needed to keep breathing. Oxygen for our suffocating lugs that just wanted to give up and say, "We surrender. We can't do it anymore."
I have never felt so completely loved and so completely alone as I did that day. I missed my parents- dreadfully wished they were there to hold my hands and pray with me and make jokes. I missed my brothers because they have a way of making a girl smile- pushing me around in a wheelchair avoiding disapproving glances from the nurses station. I missed having my friends THERE. Yes, I received plenty of texts and a few phone calls, but I missed the embraces and smiles that lighten up a situation. It was just me and Josh that day. It was sort of a picture of what we had gotten ourselves into. We were there because without the surgery, we would never see our dreams of parenthood coming true; Yet, we were there alone...two kids who weren't quite sure what we had gotten ourselves into, but knew at this point we were a family and we had each other. I vow I will never again allow my sweet husband to sit in a waiting room alone. No one should ever have to go at that alone...and even though he was smiling and laughing as we parted ways, I could see the dread in his eyes. Even if I have to borrow a random stranger in a waiting room, I don't want him sitting alone again.
I have been asked a thousand times over how the surgery 'went'. I am never sure how to answer that question, because often times it feels like people don't really want to hear the details. It is an uncomfortable topic to discuss. I think I am past the need for privacy considering this is not my first round at all of this. I have massive fibroid tumors growing in my uterus, in the walls of my uterus, and on the outside. Huge. Massive. There are a few key players, but they are supported by thousands of little ones coating the entire lining. My doctor said that my insides look like cobble stone....pretty for a neighborhood but bad news in my case. The surgery was considered to be unsuccessful from the stand point that the doctor thought that he would be able to go in and remove the key players to give my blood supply a chance to catch up and my other organs a chance to not be squished by the tumors- this was not the case. He was shocked by what he saw inside of me.
We go back tomorrow for plan C. We have hope. Why else would we allow them to operate for the 5th time if we didn't foresee something good coming at the end of this?
The feelings I had at the very beginning of this are starting to return. I am remembering that people are incredibly awkward and say the wrong thing all the time or worse, don't say anything at all. I am hearing about everyone else's battle with getting pregnant and how adoption is always a good option for 'girls like me'. I sometimes literally have to bite the insides of my cheeks so I don't go off. People mean well. But, at this point, if the doctor doesn't fix me, I will die from this. That is way more our concern than having children- the children part is just the reason we don't throw the towel in...we can literally smell that sweet scent on a babies head...so we go...to the doctor 1-2 times a week...to the lab for blood tests weekly...in for biopsies because my blood counts are dangerously low...for procedures that I am told are more painful than child bearing...I would love to be given the chance to feel that kind of pain.
But we are dragging. Our house could tell you all about that...our carpet hasn't been vacuumed in weeks, our laundry might eat us alive one of these days. But the point is we are still here. We work, we eat, and we sleep, but we are here.
The theme of my blog is about being joyful. I am having an insanely hard time being happy these days- except when I am eating a Popsicle which I am pretty sure are straight from heaven. But I am joyful. I am joyful that Josh and I have never been closer. We are building a friendship, a partnership that could never be so strong without the intense pain and suffering that we go to bed with each night and wake up with in the morning. I am joyful that despite the pain, I know Who to turn to. I know that my Father is holding me in His hands and keeps a tight grip, reminding me that this is all for His Glory- and thank goodness for that because if there weren't a bigger picture for this, I think I would give up.
I am joyful...dragging...but joyful.
I had part one of my surgery last week. Friday morning Josh woke me up about an hour before we had to get up. Truthfully, I am sure neither of us were really sleeping, but we played the part. Laying like sausages in our warm and safe home knowing that morning would eventually come and we would eventually be making our way to the hospital and inevitably saying our goodbyes before being separated by doctors and nurses and anesthesiologists. We held hands and cried as he read me promises from God's Word that comforted my fears and reminded me that we serve a God who works miracles- especially for Sarah and Hannah and even the Virgin Mary. He prayed for me, because I could not. It was a beautiful picture of love- from the outside looking in. From the inside, it was what we needed to keep breathing. Oxygen for our suffocating lugs that just wanted to give up and say, "We surrender. We can't do it anymore."
I have never felt so completely loved and so completely alone as I did that day. I missed my parents- dreadfully wished they were there to hold my hands and pray with me and make jokes. I missed my brothers because they have a way of making a girl smile- pushing me around in a wheelchair avoiding disapproving glances from the nurses station. I missed having my friends THERE. Yes, I received plenty of texts and a few phone calls, but I missed the embraces and smiles that lighten up a situation. It was just me and Josh that day. It was sort of a picture of what we had gotten ourselves into. We were there because without the surgery, we would never see our dreams of parenthood coming true; Yet, we were there alone...two kids who weren't quite sure what we had gotten ourselves into, but knew at this point we were a family and we had each other. I vow I will never again allow my sweet husband to sit in a waiting room alone. No one should ever have to go at that alone...and even though he was smiling and laughing as we parted ways, I could see the dread in his eyes. Even if I have to borrow a random stranger in a waiting room, I don't want him sitting alone again.
I have been asked a thousand times over how the surgery 'went'. I am never sure how to answer that question, because often times it feels like people don't really want to hear the details. It is an uncomfortable topic to discuss. I think I am past the need for privacy considering this is not my first round at all of this. I have massive fibroid tumors growing in my uterus, in the walls of my uterus, and on the outside. Huge. Massive. There are a few key players, but they are supported by thousands of little ones coating the entire lining. My doctor said that my insides look like cobble stone....pretty for a neighborhood but bad news in my case. The surgery was considered to be unsuccessful from the stand point that the doctor thought that he would be able to go in and remove the key players to give my blood supply a chance to catch up and my other organs a chance to not be squished by the tumors- this was not the case. He was shocked by what he saw inside of me.
We go back tomorrow for plan C. We have hope. Why else would we allow them to operate for the 5th time if we didn't foresee something good coming at the end of this?
The feelings I had at the very beginning of this are starting to return. I am remembering that people are incredibly awkward and say the wrong thing all the time or worse, don't say anything at all. I am hearing about everyone else's battle with getting pregnant and how adoption is always a good option for 'girls like me'. I sometimes literally have to bite the insides of my cheeks so I don't go off. People mean well. But, at this point, if the doctor doesn't fix me, I will die from this. That is way more our concern than having children- the children part is just the reason we don't throw the towel in...we can literally smell that sweet scent on a babies head...so we go...to the doctor 1-2 times a week...to the lab for blood tests weekly...in for biopsies because my blood counts are dangerously low...for procedures that I am told are more painful than child bearing...I would love to be given the chance to feel that kind of pain.
But we are dragging. Our house could tell you all about that...our carpet hasn't been vacuumed in weeks, our laundry might eat us alive one of these days. But the point is we are still here. We work, we eat, and we sleep, but we are here.
The theme of my blog is about being joyful. I am having an insanely hard time being happy these days- except when I am eating a Popsicle which I am pretty sure are straight from heaven. But I am joyful. I am joyful that Josh and I have never been closer. We are building a friendship, a partnership that could never be so strong without the intense pain and suffering that we go to bed with each night and wake up with in the morning. I am joyful that despite the pain, I know Who to turn to. I know that my Father is holding me in His hands and keeps a tight grip, reminding me that this is all for His Glory- and thank goodness for that because if there weren't a bigger picture for this, I think I would give up.
I am joyful...dragging...but joyful.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Digging Deeper.
I know that it has been a few a little bit since I have posted- I wish it was because I have been fabulously busy flying all over the world vacationing. I have made a few attempts at posts, but walked away from them because they sounded just as confused as I have been feeling.
This week I met with the specialist who confirmed that I would be needing surgery. The worst part of the news is that my body is not strong enough at this point to have the surgery. I have to wait it out until January- in the process going through all kinds of tests and medications to prepare my body for the surgery. I think I would rather the doctor say, "You need surgery. How does next week sound?" Three months? Three long grueling months of testing, pocking and prodding? Three months of dread each and everyday about what is to come...
The last time I had this surgery, I was given about 1 week to mentally prepare. I was hopeful and optimistic that it wouldn't be so bad and that I would recover in no time. That was not the case. I had a 4 night stay in the 'slammer' that were by far my most painful and horrible memories in my lifetime. I swore I would never have this surgery again...I would never take those dreaded first post-surgery steps...or even worse, that first nature calling. And here I am again...signing up for number 2.
I think that when I dig a little deeper, I am finding myself really questioning God. It has very little to do with the actual surgery (despite the pain) and a lot more to do with the fact that I am afraid of the outcome. To be frank, this surgery stands between having children and not. Because this is my 3rd surgery (2nd MAJOR one) the risks of not being able to have children bust through the roof. My doctor is the very best and has assured me that 99 out of 100 women, "get their happy ending" which is wonderful odds...unless you are that 1.
I have really had to dig deeper this week. I have had to confront some painful memories from the past that I know I will have to face again- including questioning God and his plans for my life, and future family.
I think this is by far my most honest and open blog. I can only see them getting more honest from here on out. I am confronted with feelings of fear and anxiety. Yet, over all these things, God continues to say to me, "Cast all your anxiety on me...because I care for you..." 1 Peter 5:7. Or Psalm 37:4, "Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart..."
It will be a long 3 months of repeating verses like that- confronting fear and anxiety with the Word of the Lord.
What verses do you use when gripped by fear?
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
My Story
I attended a breakfast this weekend where Shauna Niequist introduced her new book Bittersweet. Along with reading a bit from her book, she also gave a compelling challenge that our stories are what impact people for Christ the most. I walked away feeling really empowered, yet, at the same time, sort of confused.
Over the past few weeks, the services at church have all followed this same theme. The idea that what God is doing in your life is "SO THAT" He will receive all the Glory. It has been challenging...and hard to grasp.
Over the past few days I have really been wrestling over why this idea of sharing my story is difficult for me to do. I have decided that my perspective of stories limits me. I love books, but sequels drive me batty. I love movies, but again, slowly releasing parts of a story drive me nuts! I think the reason for this, and the reason behind my issues with 'my story' is because I like a beginning, a middle, and an end! I have been trained to read for clues and to look at foreshadowing. I love to contemplate and guess the ending of stories before I even know that much about the characters. I have even been known to write down what I think the ending of a story is and hide it away so that when I am dead on, I can go to it and say, "AHHA! I was right! I knew it all along!" Yet, my story, is smack in the middle. I am a constant work in progress. I feel like God has to go back over things with me time and time again- rewriting and editing. No one likes to read the same chapter over and over again, but sometimes that's exactly what I feel is happening with my story.
This week I am beginning round 3 with the exact same health battle I have been facing since 2006. Same story...different doctors...different 'lead characters'...but same exact story. When I am at my best, I am able to see this as a chance to continue to lean on the Lord. A chance to let God work in my life and in my body and when it is all said and done, I will be a walking miracle. Yet, on my less than perfect days, I am frustrated with the rerun. I have already battled this feeling of helplessness. I have already learned that I have to trust God...and on and on.
Yet, I am drawn to the Word- the perfect beginning in the Garden of Eden, the fall, God sending His Son to die for my sins...and the incredible ending where Christ will return and make all things new again. 2 Corinthians 5:17 says, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" This brings me an incredible amount of peace. I am a new creation...despite the reruns, the old has gone and the new is HERE!
I guess what I have taken away from this idea that my story is something to be shared- to use what God is doing, has done, and will do as a testimony of his greatness. My story is a lot like my guesses and predictions of good books- I don't really know the details, but I know where my life is going and I know what the end of my story is, because, I am in Christ....
Knowing the ending has freed me to share my story, and to listen to other peoples stories...I am a work in progress, but this story is mine to tell and I cannot keep to myself the things that God has done in me and through me.
Over the past few weeks, the services at church have all followed this same theme. The idea that what God is doing in your life is "SO THAT" He will receive all the Glory. It has been challenging...and hard to grasp.
Over the past few days I have really been wrestling over why this idea of sharing my story is difficult for me to do. I have decided that my perspective of stories limits me. I love books, but sequels drive me batty. I love movies, but again, slowly releasing parts of a story drive me nuts! I think the reason for this, and the reason behind my issues with 'my story' is because I like a beginning, a middle, and an end! I have been trained to read for clues and to look at foreshadowing. I love to contemplate and guess the ending of stories before I even know that much about the characters. I have even been known to write down what I think the ending of a story is and hide it away so that when I am dead on, I can go to it and say, "AHHA! I was right! I knew it all along!" Yet, my story, is smack in the middle. I am a constant work in progress. I feel like God has to go back over things with me time and time again- rewriting and editing. No one likes to read the same chapter over and over again, but sometimes that's exactly what I feel is happening with my story.
This week I am beginning round 3 with the exact same health battle I have been facing since 2006. Same story...different doctors...different 'lead characters'...but same exact story. When I am at my best, I am able to see this as a chance to continue to lean on the Lord. A chance to let God work in my life and in my body and when it is all said and done, I will be a walking miracle. Yet, on my less than perfect days, I am frustrated with the rerun. I have already battled this feeling of helplessness. I have already learned that I have to trust God...and on and on.
Yet, I am drawn to the Word- the perfect beginning in the Garden of Eden, the fall, God sending His Son to die for my sins...and the incredible ending where Christ will return and make all things new again. 2 Corinthians 5:17 says, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" This brings me an incredible amount of peace. I am a new creation...despite the reruns, the old has gone and the new is HERE!
I guess what I have taken away from this idea that my story is something to be shared- to use what God is doing, has done, and will do as a testimony of his greatness. My story is a lot like my guesses and predictions of good books- I don't really know the details, but I know where my life is going and I know what the end of my story is, because, I am in Christ....
Knowing the ending has freed me to share my story, and to listen to other peoples stories...I am a work in progress, but this story is mine to tell and I cannot keep to myself the things that God has done in me and through me.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Afraid of the Dark.
Before I start my post for this week, I wanted to mention my progress on my discipline post from last week. I had a few friends point out areas in my life where I am very disciplined already. For some reason I was really overlooking those aspects in my life. Being able to recognize those commitments for what they are worth and the energy and time I have put into them really helped me. I felt like I am half way to being disciplined already and adding a few more aspects of it to my plate were no longer so daunting. To my friends and family who always have a word of encouragement, I say thank you.
--------Afraid of the Dark--------
Do you have something in your life that keeps you up at night? Something that is so emotionally draining that tends to paralyzing to you? Sometimes the things we are facing in life are so frightening that it is almost like a bad dream. You may be able to keep it all together during the day. Fake it until you make it has been my mantra for years. I am able to slap on a smile and interact with people near flawlessly. But when the lights go out....
I have always been afraid of the night time. I am not afraid of ghosts and huge spiders or the snakes hiding under my bed. I am afraid to be alone with my thoughts and feelings. Alone, without the cover of day and the interactions with other that keep me going. I thought that being married would help that. It has to some extent, but I am married to Mr. A Good Night Sleep Will Fix Anything. Sometimes he is right, but other times, I wake up still feeling the heavy burdens I have gone to sleep with.
I don't really think I need to go into detail about what I am currently facing that makes me 'afraid of the dark'. I think the reality is that we all have things that when left alone with we struggle. Knowing that everyone struggles with something makes me more aware- people are walking around with huge weights on their shoulders. What are we doing to help lighten their load?
I was reminded a few weeks ago of 2 Corinthians 10:5- "We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." Taking every thought captive has been a huge part in my sleeping soundly again at night. I was challenged to stop myself dead in my tracks and say NO. I will not think that...and then to replace my lie or fear with a truth from God. This practice has been something that has changed my life. I am seeing the Bible as a Living Word, active and present in my life.
I love the wording in this verse- "...we take captive every thought and make it obedient to Christ." I think sometimes we like to hid behind phrases like, "I can't help the way I feel" or "I just get overwhelmed with everything." This verse makes it clear that it is not something that comes natural but we have to MAKE our thoughts obedient to Christ. That means that when fear comes in and paralyzes us we take that ugly thought and say, "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33).
This challenge comes with 2 crucial practices- the first is that we need to be in the Word. How can we combat our fears and frustrations with scriptures if we don't know them? God has given us His Word so that we can use it in the Spiritual battles that we face. Not going to the Word for encouragement is like going to battle with a weapon and failing to draw it when in battle! The second part of this is training your mind. Stopping thoughts that have been a part of you your whole life is difficult. But as I have been experiencing for the last couple of weeks, the more I do this, the stronger I feel and the more protected my mind is. I still have my weak moments, but I find that the more rooted in Christ I am, the easier it is to take my thoughts captive and replace the lies with God's Truth.
I would like to leave you with a quote from Raymond Edmond who said, "Never doubt in the dark what God told you in the light." When fear starts to creep in and you find yourself feeling "Afraid of the Dark" remind yourself of the things God showed you in the light...
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Goals and Discipline
Okay, so I have admitted before that I struggle with authority (see Obedience posting) and that a huge part of my life I have spend really bucking at rules. I had a huge realization this week about how much my self-discipline is impacted by this.
I am a second born. Worse, I am the only girl with 4 brothers. My whole life my parents have used words like colorful, bright, creative, outgoing, friendly, bossy, outspoken, opinionated, strong willed, whimsical, and vibrant to describe me. I don't dislike that at all. I love being a colorful person. I say what comes to my mind- to a fault. I value friendships and being honest and open. Being unique is something I have striven for my whole life...
Yet, I am figuring out that the one word that I have never heard or would use to describe myself is disciplined. My brother Josh, the first born, is and always has been disciplined. He wanted to increase his vertical in high school so he mailed away for this ridiculous jumping program. He faithfully got up in each morning and jumped...we could hear the thumps on the wall as he trained his body to jump higher and higher. The pay off for his faithfulness was when he broke the school record in rebounding.
I wanted to jump higher....I got up one morning to do the program...but there must have been a pretty flower to smell or something because my coach could barely slide a piece of paper under my vertical!
My entire life I have wanted to be dedicated to something...to be the girl who was willing to do anything to get what she wanted. Yet time and time again, I give up. I know I want to spend more time with God so I make a weekly chart...commit to getting out of bed early to pray and read the Word. The first day, I am feeling strong...I wake up. Sit at the counter...read 3 verses and decide that, "This will be a prayer day..." crawl back in bed...and before I know it, I am late for work. I have grandiose ideas to start new businesses, or new career paths. I have sent information requests to about 40 grad schools for all sorts of different programs from social work, to education, to cosmetology. Even my diet is a constant battle. I exercise faithfully for a week just to lose sight of my goal and grab a secret bag of gummy bears at the grocery store and eat them before stashing the evidence.
I had a realization this week that really got my attention. Habits are hard to break but new habits aren't any easier to form. For years I have woken up to my mom sitting at our dinning room table reading her Bible. I guess I just kind of figured that's what moms do. But the older I get, the more I realize that habits like that are made from determination and discipline. She isn't aching to leave her warm bed every morning to spend time with God, but she knows the payoff is worth the pain...she is a Martha.
For years I have used my name as a crutch...Mary was the one who valued relationships and sat at the feet of Jesus listening to what he had to say instead of fussing over what needed to be done. Martha was the worker, slaving away for her company. I think it is time to start being more of a Martha.
I am challenging myself to start forming some new habits. To commit to doing things the hard way if necessary because I can see the end goal. I am committing to valuing hard work and dedication despite being uncomfortable and feeling lazy. I know that this will be a painfully hard process, but I like where it is going to take me.
From now on, I will be the colorful, fun, DISCIPLINED girl....here we go!
I had a realization this week that really got my attention. Habits are hard to break but new habits aren't any easier to form. For years I have woken up to my mom sitting at our dinning room table reading her Bible. I guess I just kind of figured that's what moms do. But the older I get, the more I realize that habits like that are made from determination and discipline. She isn't aching to leave her warm bed every morning to spend time with God, but she knows the payoff is worth the pain...she is a Martha.
For years I have used my name as a crutch...Mary was the one who valued relationships and sat at the feet of Jesus listening to what he had to say instead of fussing over what needed to be done. Martha was the worker, slaving away for her company. I think it is time to start being more of a Martha.
I am challenging myself to start forming some new habits. To commit to doing things the hard way if necessary because I can see the end goal. I am committing to valuing hard work and dedication despite being uncomfortable and feeling lazy. I know that this will be a painfully hard process, but I like where it is going to take me.
From now on, I will be the colorful, fun, DISCIPLINED girl....here we go!
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Seasons
I grew up in Arizona. The only season change we have there is hot to hotter, to holy hotness! I knew about season changes from the glorious vacations that my parents took us on. I saw the leaves change when we drove up to Colorado to visit my aunts, the snow falling when we packed up the car and headed up to the mountains to spend time hiking, and flowers springing forth on our trips to California. Oh, and Summer? Well, that was a given. We spent our days out in the pool soaking up the sun and drinking lemonade.
Living in Chicago for the past few years, I am seeing it all through new adult eyes. I am taking part in the summer days turning into fall days as the wind blows through the leaves. I crunched my first leaf this weekend as I took my niece and nephews for a walk. We found our first red leaf on the ground and were able to really just witness the start of fall. Sometimes if feels like a season just creeps up on us and before we know it the snow is all over the ground or tulips in full bloom. Yet, sometimes, there is a definite moment when we are able to stop and witness the changing season.
I love being outside. I am able to really see my life in prospective when I spend time outside. Getting married outside was a no-brainer for me because my experiences with God outside are incredible. I am loving being in our area of town because of that- I am able to go for long walks on country roads and hear the leaves blowing in the wind or see a deer sipping water from the lake.
I have been thinking about the changes in seasons a lot lately. I realized on one of my long walks that the seasons we experience from fall, to winter, to spring, to summer are a lot like my life has been. I have witnessed the death of winter, where all I can do is stay snuggled up and wait it out. I spend my days dealing with life privately feeling each emotion as it comes and really struggling through it. Then the spring comes- a time for new life. I am able to see the new growth in myself as a person and I love the change- even though it might be painful. Then there are summers in my life where I am able to relax and become rejuvenated. Those times are more about being a good friend and spending time with those I care about. And there is fall. The necessary transitions in my life where I am being stripped of the old so that the new is possible. I see my life for what it is and am able to slowly rid myself of things as God reveals them to me. I am like a tree- arms out stretched and exposed allowing God to shake me with his gentle winds. I lose more of myself the more this 'fall' progresses and gain more of the thing God has for me.
I am so grateful for the changes in seasons. I would hate staying the same all the time. I see myself constantly evaluating my life as a sister, daughter, friend, wife, and Christ follower. Even though I have seasons of my life that I like more than others, I am maturing enough to realize that all are necessary...
Living in Chicago for the past few years, I am seeing it all through new adult eyes. I am taking part in the summer days turning into fall days as the wind blows through the leaves. I crunched my first leaf this weekend as I took my niece and nephews for a walk. We found our first red leaf on the ground and were able to really just witness the start of fall. Sometimes if feels like a season just creeps up on us and before we know it the snow is all over the ground or tulips in full bloom. Yet, sometimes, there is a definite moment when we are able to stop and witness the changing season.
I love being outside. I am able to really see my life in prospective when I spend time outside. Getting married outside was a no-brainer for me because my experiences with God outside are incredible. I am loving being in our area of town because of that- I am able to go for long walks on country roads and hear the leaves blowing in the wind or see a deer sipping water from the lake.
I have been thinking about the changes in seasons a lot lately. I realized on one of my long walks that the seasons we experience from fall, to winter, to spring, to summer are a lot like my life has been. I have witnessed the death of winter, where all I can do is stay snuggled up and wait it out. I spend my days dealing with life privately feeling each emotion as it comes and really struggling through it. Then the spring comes- a time for new life. I am able to see the new growth in myself as a person and I love the change- even though it might be painful. Then there are summers in my life where I am able to relax and become rejuvenated. Those times are more about being a good friend and spending time with those I care about. And there is fall. The necessary transitions in my life where I am being stripped of the old so that the new is possible. I see my life for what it is and am able to slowly rid myself of things as God reveals them to me. I am like a tree- arms out stretched and exposed allowing God to shake me with his gentle winds. I lose more of myself the more this 'fall' progresses and gain more of the thing God has for me.
I am so grateful for the changes in seasons. I would hate staying the same all the time. I see myself constantly evaluating my life as a sister, daughter, friend, wife, and Christ follower. Even though I have seasons of my life that I like more than others, I am maturing enough to realize that all are necessary...
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