Servanthood

There are many things in my life that have brought me to my low low point right now... I am not going to discuss them right now, nor do I feel the need to justify how aweful my life has been this past season. But I am suddenly and joyfully content in my low position. And this, I will tell you about. 

Last night as I sat in Starbucks all alone on date night (could be my fault or ours or his... Who knows), I wrote out some prayers to God. I was at rock bottom. I couldn't even promise him my full surrender my attention or any kind of commitment because I was fully aware of how utterly useless and in-capable I am. This wasn't just what some would consider spiritual humility... I felt like I had no value or worth, no purpose, like the mere sight of me was offensive to those around me, and like I am just a weight on everyone's shoulders... I didn't hear much from God that night. He lead me to a few good passages in Lamentations and psalms.

Today Kayla invited me to Harvest (her church) where they were doing an all-worship service. This was much different from a riverwood worship night, let me tell you. 3 or 4 electric guitars, drums in a full blown 360 degree cage with a lid, too many monitors messing up the house balance (I married a sound man), barely able to hear vocalists to know what we were supposed to sing, and multiple moments of mic feedback.... 

The church they were in they were borrowing from another church (clearly an older congregation) which is why the service started at 1:30-1:45 instead of in the morning. The pews were crammed, the misc. 90's worship-themed nick nacks on the walls were un-coordinated and strangely placed... 

But God was there... 

Riverwood has been doing some sermons about "it". Some people have "it" and some people don't. Todd seems to be saying riverwood had it and has lost it. But this Sunday it almost sounded like he thinks we can BUILD "it"... "It" can't be built... 

Harvest has "it" and I know I am not the only riverwoodian who has seen this...

Anyway, during the worship, God finally spoke to me on my issues. And you know what? It wasn't what I expected. As I was looking around, I saw someone writing out a prophetic poem to be read aloud later. In my mind I was exalting this gift of prophecy in this fella, when the Holy Spirit chimed in "why? He's just my scribe."

Good point spirit... Do we know anything about Paul's scribes? What about john? Or king David's scribes? Nope, no one cares... What about the messengers that brought letters to the Galatians and Ephesians for Paul? Well some of them were also teachers, but some letters just delivered, were done so by simple messengers... People long forgotten or never acknowledged in the first place.  Then God began to speak and put me in my place, commanding me to be content in my humble lowly place right now, because truly that is all I am genuinely worth. Absolutely nothing. I AM a useless burden... But God has grace enough to allow me to serve him...

I realize this may sound negative and like a bondage type experience but it was incredibly freeing. You see, no one thinks worse of me than I do, and God is allowing me to accept these thoughts as the ugly truth of things, and to then realize my place. Then I can freely serve him because truly I am dead. There is nothing glorious about me at all. I was then honoured to even be able to SERVE God! 

And you know what? Then I am free to do whatever he calls me to... Because who is held accountable for the words in a letter? The scribe or the author?  The writer and recipient, or delivery person? Do you get mad at the mail man for delivering your MasterCard statement? Exactly... So as God's servant:

1) it's not my reputation at stake 

2) it's not my job to decide which messages get delivered

3) it's not my job to re-word the message 

As a servant it is my job to obey. 

It is my job to worship his perfection in the midst of my deadness. 

And with that thought, He commanded me to start flagging. Yup! Stand at the front with whispy flags and twirl-em round! I am not quordinated at all, nor do I think I am a particularly pretty image for people to see dancing...but that didn't matter. My master and God commanded me to wave a flag to honor and obey him. To show him glory. How dare I think about myself in that moment besides, I already consider myself dead, so what is there to think about? May as well obey the only master worth having. 

...riverwood ought to get flags I think...

I dropped my baby today...

Okay not really, but just as bad (maybe worse)...

I let him fall off the bed onto the basement floor. This is a taller bed, and a concrete floor. A good three foot drop onto carpeted concrete (not like a fluffy carpet..) with a big bump on his head. I can't believe I let it happen. Now it's 11:30 at night and everyone's in bed and I just need to process things. Most people wouldn't blog about this, since it is a farely shaming experience and there is a lot of fear about judgement... but I am kind of an open book, and quite frankly I don't think any of you could possibly judge me as much as I am judging myself right now. So bring it on, judge away, I don't really care.

Josiah has been getting more and more mobile every day it seems the last two weeks. Yesterday I sat him down in the middle of the bed, turned around to grab my pumping gear and he was on his stomach RIGHT at the edge of the bed! This should have been enough of a wake up call for me you'd think. Close call!

Today was Curtis's "calm before the storm" so-to-speak... Tuesday we are demolishing our house from the main floor up. Curtis says it will be easier and faster to renovate that way rather than trying to save the small parts that will remain the same, and try to work around them. That tedious working combined with trying to tear things out by hand would cost more in labor and time. So Tuesday a big tractor will come and eat my house... (if your free or have little boys, feel free to come by and watch. It's free entertainment. Just e-mail, Facebook or text me for my address).

Anyway! So today was a no-priority day. We started off by actually making it to church (second week in a row!!), lunch at my parents (which was delicious!), and then we went home so Josiah could nap. The plan was I would feed him at 4:00 and then we would go to Frasier's Grove park and take some pictures together before all the chaos starts (and Curtis loses all his hair from stress ;).  Curtis left to go to Rona for a few things, and I proceeded to get ready for Josiah's feed like I usually do. I put Josiah in the very middle of the bed, sitting up. Then I measure out the water for his bottle warmer. I check to make sure he's still sitting happily (which he was), and then I quickly run and grab his bottle from the fridge (a 8 second vacancy max)... Came back, still sitting perfectly. I get his bottle warming, and go fill a small vase with hot water to keep the bottle warm (cause I have a fussy baby like that)... I hear him chatting away.

I am litterally steps outside the bedroom door, when I hear a thump. ... 1, 2 seconds and suddenly crying like I've only heard a few times. I rush in and see him on the floor beside the bed. He was crying like he did when he got an IV. Not his normal crying. It was sort of a grunt/cry that he does when he is in a lot of pain. He looked a bit drowsy too.

Oh my goodness... my world crashed right there...

I called Curtis right away and he agreed I should call 911. The fire dept came first and made sure it was safe for me to pick him up. (I had picked him up to console him, but the 911 lady got me to put him down on the ground again until the emergency workers arrived). When the paramedics came, they checked his vitals and he didn't appear to have a concussion. They advised us to go in because any head injury to such a small child should be checked out. (Josiah was still crying inconsolably this whole time...very unlike him)

I rode in the ambulance and Curtis took our car. Probably a good hour after this whole thing started, Josiah started to calm down in the waiting room, and just have spurts of this painful crying grunting. I did get him fed and myself pumped before we saw a doctor.

Thankfully the doctor didn't seem too concerned. He was concerned about the height of the bed, but said that they are more concerned about 3 feet and up falls. So he was right on the cusp. Because he wasn't presenting with any symptoms (he was his charming self by now), and didn't  seem to be in pain when the doctor pressed on the goose egg on his forehead, they sent us home and said to come back if he changes (gets inconsolable, starts vomiting, unusually drowsy, etc...). I asked about fluid around the brain (cause I'm a paranoid first time mom who reads everyone's facebook posts and articles....) and he said that one jolt shouldn't do that. It's the back-and-forth motion of being shaken that causes a fluid build up around the brain. This was a huge relief to me....

Home we went... He woke up in pain after he went to bed but otherwise has been fine. I gave him a bit of tylenol and he seems to be sleeping okay...

How do I work past this? I don't think I will ever forgive myself.... "being dropped on your head as a baby" is a "thing" for a reason. It's a very serious situation, and it's not dieing in my mind. Every time I re-play the "thud...cry" and rush into the room scenario, I get nauseated with guilt... Have I just caused my child to have brain dammage? Have I changed his life forever? WHY didn't I carry him? why didn't I put him on the floor? Or in his playpen which was RIGHT THERE!!... why? why? why?

How could I have been so stupid!? (my mother-in-law told me "don't call the mother of your child stupid... It was careless, not stupid" and she's right)... hard not to feel stupid though. Especially with the close call yesterday.
 
you know what I would have done if I was my own CFS client? I would have apprehended Josiah I bet... That is what I think of myself right now. Not fit to parent... what kind of mother leaves her baby un-attended on a high-up bed?


I definitely turned to God tonight... Read some Word... did some praying... It's in his hands now. I guess it always was. Hard to imagine God knew this would happen all along, and has this all worked into his plans. That is the only thing that brings me peace in all of this. Knowing that God's will is sovereign over everything. He is bigger than my carelessness. He can heal Josiah if there is any injury, or he can change Josiah forever, because that is part of His plan for Josiah's life...

All I can do is let go,give it to Him, learn my lesson, and be the best mom I can be.

Wake up

All Sons and Daughters concert this Friday. My sister in law invited me to go a while back. Josiah still doesn't really eat for anyone else so it will be an interesting evening... But I am going either way! Haha... I feel guilty... But I can suppress it I think. Don't worry! (Poor Curtis)

Anyway I was thinking I should listen to some of their music before going since its more of a worship event than a concert. 

Lets just say I am not too familiar with them. And this is one of the first songs that is playing while I am in the kitchen putting dishes away

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PoPWqi0W2DA

Well I am a bit sheltered when it comes to worship. I don't know why I don't play more around the house, but I usually get to church every 2-4 weeks because of Josiah's schedule. 

Oh my word... All that "wake up wake up all you dreamers" Ecclesiastes dry bones business... Gets me every time! I am a dry bone... Lol that's what part of the Body I am right now... A dry bone. Sorry church, I don't have much to throw your way. 

I know God has grace for moms, but why does it seem like some mom's faith is strengthened by becoming a parent, while others struggle? I apparently am really struggling. Call it a spiritual post-partum depression if you want. I can visualize and feel what a want my faith to be. I long and thirst for more of him but can't be bothered to reach out. I am surrounded by spiritual encouragers on every side (people, books, bible, music, apps, nature etc...) but don't utilize any of it. 

And naturally, it affects the rest of me too. I have been very stressed about our family situation lately and kind of bottling it up (especially since it is FAR more stressful for Curtis... What right do I have to feel overwhelmed?). 

It affects how much patience I have for Josiah, and how much intentional quality time I give him. It affects whether I eat healthy or exercise. It affects if the house is clean (or I am clean for that matter)... Lol kinda sounds like regular post-partum a bit... Guess that's not impossible either, but I kinda doubt that because I have generally high spirits despite these things. 

Anyway, Sunday we move back in with Curtis's parents, and October first our house is being demolished from the main floor up... Oh my oh my. It's one of those situations where (even though I have the best possible in-laws for this situation) I think any mom can understand why I am feeling a little stressed... Especially with no specific end in sight. 

 I don't really get to vent though cause given that Curtis is doing all the work on our house on top of running a business, his stress level is a trump card.  He prefers not to talk about stressful things (weird I know;). 

So here I am two days from moving day and not a thing packed... Maybe two or three boxes in the house to pack in. I am just kinda frozen. (And of course Josiah hasn't been sleeping well so neither have I). Man these things move slower with a baby. I am glad I have a week after we move to clear out the house. 

Anyway, prayers would be appreciated. Josiah's eating has been generally better.   I pump while feeding him now so a good feed only takes 20 minutes. He still has some really rough days and that gets me discouraged and aggravated, especially if I haven't slept, but if I look at the past month, things have gotten better overall so I can't really complain. And at least with this whole situation, I will have other people around and a couple extra sets of hands if I need to step away. 

I guess God knows what he's doing. 

From grief to joy

No idea what I am about to write... It's ten after eleven and I need to sterilize dishes so I can go to bed... Naturally that seems like the right time to blog!!

Ever feel like everyone else has things together except you? I kinda feel that way. Not like everyone else is perfect, but like everyone else is leading a respectable honourable life. Like everyone else is living a life of purpose and contribution to the world and I am somehow freeloading. 

I know, I know... I highly doubt this is a rare feeling for a new mom. It seems like everyone I see is helping me out. I love it and appreciate it. It's just hard sometimes not to feel guilty for being always at the receiving end of things. 

Sometimes when I see a mom with a toddler and a baby, my heart races a bit. Yikes! That just seems impossible. I mean, Josiah has his issues (very frustrating at times) but overall has an excellent temperament. And every baby has their issues... I can't imagine parenting a baby AND toddler together. How do you deal with a toddler on that little sleep!? How do you keep that little person growing and learning when I am JUST reaching the stage where I get dressed EVERY day! Wow... Moms of more than one, you have my respect. 

Some of my clients have more of my respect too. If I was going back to CFS my practice would look very different now. It's true that kids change you. 

... One thing no one prepared me for, was for that "instant bonding feeling" that I didn't get. When Josiah was born, I had gone through two days of inductions, plus an emergency c section plus he was taken to nicu. I saw him for 2 minutes then slept all night. (Yes I know, glorious). But in the morning it was like "do we really have a baby?" And then when I could see him, he was all covered in tubes and wires. I could do some skin on skin but not much. And he was far too weak to breastfeed. So it felt more like meeting my nephew or niece at times... (Only this baby is the cutest baby alive). 

Don't get me wrong, I love my son. He changed my world. I don't know what I would do without him, but there's something to be said for grieving the missed experiences... I read about that when we struggled with breastfeeding. You go onto your birth with this plan of how things will work. When things go differently and you lose out on certain expectations, you need to allow yourself time to grieve those losses so you can move on and accept the here and now. 

I grieve the loss of having ANY maternity leave time to relax before Josiah came. 

I grieve the loss of that "nesting" phase I never got to reach. 

I greive the three weeks of awful stressful bed rest, lack of sleep, hospital nightmares we went through

I grieve the four weeks I couldn't give Josiah to incubate inside of me, because my body was too weak... (I will never complain of an over-due baby)

I grieve the losses I talked about above, not even really getting an opportunity to bond with my baby when he was born. I only got to see him upside down in Curtiss arms for 15-20 seconds before they took him away to nicu, then not till the next morning...

I grieve not being able to have a vaginal delivery. I feel like less of a woman sometimes because of it. 

I greive not being able to breastfeed my baby. And I re-live this every time I feed my baby a bottle in public and get looks from other moms (like I am somehow being selfish. They don't know I pump).

I greive not being able to enjoy Josiah's first four months cause they were basically hell for me... So much more lack of sleep because of pumping, and reflux, so much anxiety at every feed. He was so fragile...

It was really only at around six months that I can honestly say "I enjoy having a baby". Feeds are still anxiety provoking and others don't see that part. Even if he has a good feed, my mind is always racing and thinking "I hope he gets enough" and "please please don't throw up this time" (even though my little fatty is doing just fine!). But overall I am starting to really enjoy my boy. He laughs at me and when I feed him his bottle had he looks me in the eyes, I now have a stronger bonding experience than before with him. 

Some days I do absolutely nothing other than care for Josiah. And you know what? That's okay. I deserve it. I am glad to be moving on to this next season of Josiah's life. He is truly a little blessing... Surely he will make a big impact on our world. I am sure he will break stereotypes and expectations just like he did with his entrance into the world.

Kids... Gotta love'em!

This is my father's world.

So my little world is prettymuch captured in this photo. (cute aint he?). I have to admit. When I found out we were having a baby boy a year ago, I was pretty excited and releived. I thought to myself "boys are easier than girls, especially during puberty!"...

This past sunday I listened to a Mark Driscol sermon (cause with Josiah's weird feeding schedule, it doesn't always work for us to go to church, especially since I have to pump with every feed...makes things tricky). Anyway! The sermon was about Mark's upcoming book "the resurgence"... it actually sounds pretty interesting. In this particular sermon, Mark was calling a challenge to all the men as fathers, in a world where men don't have to be men. Many men are just boys, with a man's freedom of choice and speech... which is a very dangerous concept. That wasn't the whole sermon, but that's what stuck out to me.

I don't want to raise a full grown adult boy. I want to raise a man of God. That is a scary thought. In today's society, boys dont need to grow up. In today's feminist society, men don't have a clearly defined role anymore, and it's easy to see why many men struggle even in their own families to be... well, to be the man! The women have become the men. They work, they call the shots, they handle the books, they raise the kids, and then complain to the men that they aren't helping out...

WELL EXCUSE ME BUT WHO IS SUPPOSED TO BE THE HELPER??? I believe God assigned the helping role to women if I am not mistaken. I can't help but feel that the way things are going, is a result of the fall, when God said that A woman's desire will be for her husband (as in, her desire is to lord over him, not like a longing loving desire...). It would seem that woman is winning right now...but it is at the expense of men it would seem...

So many men don't have an identity. It's like "why go to college? women do that now"... why get a career? we'll both work,  and it'll all be fine. And then Men (boys) continue to live like boys, pursuing boy-ish pleasures, and not growing up to be men... Providing for their families, earning the respect of their wives, through their actions, love and servanthood. Being a real father, not just a live-in sperm donor.

I am honestly a bit scared to raise a son in today's world. I don't think all the parenting books in the world could prepare today's christian parents for this one... let alone how to tackle the whole issue of lust, and respecting women in todays world of un-respectable women...

Well, Josiah's awake so this entry is done for now... Just a bit of venting! It's God's world, and I am having faith that he will play a role in the solution to these worries on my heart.

Getting back into things.

I am starting to discipline myself to get into the word more and fellowship more... It's a slow but positive journey so far. It's been tricky with Josiah's feeding issues combined with my (sometimes silly) decision to pump for him, because that keeps us rather isolated. What has been neat is that this week alone, as I have been connecting with God, he has connected me to two other moms who are going through the same thing! It's a nice gesture from God, because sometimes I think I must just be the laziest mom on the planet... Especially when I sense judgement from others about my situation/our lifestyle right now. God has reminded me that this scenario (reflux plus pumping BM every three hrs) is pretty close to impossible, and IS impossible without a lot of assistance (thanks mom) and encouragement. 

As I spend more time with God, he is exposing my life to me... And so I share it with you! I am realizing more and more that I struggle with faith. I like to pray very specific requests... Like "dear god, I would like at least --- number of hrs of sleep tonight". I intentionally avoid praying for God's will cause I don't trust him... So now, I am praying more for his will.... And I kinda hate it but so far he has blessed me!

The other thing I am contemplating are spiritual gifts. The more I age, the more hind-sight I have. And in hindsight, it's pretty clear that I have always been more in tune to the spiritual world than average. My parents would chalk it up to imagination or bad dreams (and I think I would too if I wasn't in my own shoes) but when I look back, I see that things were visions, conversations with God and direct oppression.  Then in my teen years, God directly told me I was a profit (but I quickly learned everyone can be... So I just thought I was "unique like everyone else" and dismissed this). Even so, God gave me vision after vision, word after word for people. Prophetic encouragements (way too accurate for people than I should be able to encourage). Sometimes big words, sometimes little. Sometimes seemingly unimportant. But as I see it, I see God preparing me, and making me familiar with his voice and his heart. 

In my college years I learned to suppress this somewhat so as not to appear insane to my not-so-Christian placements and jobs and classmates... But behind closed doors in a house on mountain and salter, with a bunch of recovering folks of all walks of life, God tore my per-conceived notions of him apart. Prophecy was sharpened, there was anointing and hey! Why not throw tongues into the mix? (Silly God... Doesn't he know Mennonites don't believe in fairie tales like that?). 

Here's what I discovered today... (For the second time I admit, but re-discovery is part of grace)... I have a cycle in my intimacy with God. We get close. So close it's like "is that chick schizophrenic" close. Just an on-going conversation in my head with the big guy. He gives me words, encouragements and all of them prophetic, tested and proven. 

... But then the "creep" (AKA satan) steps in as a wolf in Sheeps clothing and tries to sound like God... Casting doubts, and making it all about works and having to prove myself to God and earn my salvation.

The next step in. My cycle is realizing the creep's presence... And my logical safe solution is to shut him out. Shut him and God out all together. Then at least I am not being lead by the creep. (I bury my gift from the master instead of taking a risk and using it)...we all know how that story ends. "Even what he has will be taken from him..."

Well God has placed some wise people in my life and I am making a choice today for His will. I won't shut out the spiritual world. I will trust him to take care of his sheep, guide, correct and teach me. It's okay if I look crazy to some, because the amount of good God can do far outweighs that...

Trying to get healthier, in more ways than one

So a couple things... Well a bunch really, that I have come to realize since bring a mom

1) I am a very selfish person

2) I love food way too much

3) I suck at Christianity 

4) kids are a lot of work (at least the cute ones are)

1) ... It's coming out more now it seems because with the sheer exhaustion of motherhood, there's no burying your bad personality traits. They just come full force. One of the biggest ways I am selfish is about sleep. If I don't get enough I act like my whole world is caving in around me. I mean, sleep is healthy, but clearly women have survived on no sleep for centuries. I need to get over it!  I am selfish in many other ways. Having your first kid, and making the transition from "it's all about me" to "it's all about this baby" has been very slow and gradual. In fact, I am not 100% there I am embarrassed to say. It's still something I am working on. But being able to admit that this is a problem is already a step in the right direction. I will just keep on working at it. 

2) part of that selfishness is in food. Man, no one prepared me for the ferocious cravings of lactation, or all the emotional eating that accompanies a hard-to-feed baby... (If its a rough feed I deserve a consolation prize... If he pukes, automatic cheat snack time... If he does well then I deserve a reward)... I also love cooking and baking, but that leaves me with a lot of excess food laying around... I want to start seeing food as fuel instead of as my therapist. In fact, God should be my therapist. 

3) I don't seem to trust the big guy anymore after what I have been through. (Not gonna type it out again, go see blog posts from jan/feb if you want to know). And then this reflux thing (which, in my reading and research, has lead to significant suicidal ideation in several moms) plus he just hated latching (which I obviously took personally). The decision to pump after every fees left me with even less sleep, and hey! God couldn't have dispersed these issues among several babies/pregnancies? Come on now!!! So ya... I haven't exactly been reading the bible or prayer journaling. And you know what? That sucks. I am falling apart without him. I have every reason not to trust him and yet I am nothing without him. So this is something I am working on now... I crack open the word at least once a week (mind blowing I know) and a couple times a month hear a sermon (either at church if God allows us sleep and times Josiah's feeds right) or on podcast... Still, I miss real Christian fellowship... Spontaneous prayer outbursts, encouraging rebuke, prophecy...

Anyway, I haven't written in a while and I thought I would update the world. Sorry it isn't more positive, I don't get out much because Josiah is hard to feed out and about (and I have to pump every three waking hrs to keep up my supply... Never again I say...) so I am sure the isolation gets to me too... I don't think it is post partum cause I am also easily encouraged and I don't feel hopeless or depressed. I am just in a frustrating season and I wish it would change soon.