Living Generously

Let’s live generously, shall we?  Let’s be bighearted with our time, our resources, and dare I say it? Our money.  Let’s not hold on so tight to what we have been blessed with that we turn a blind eye to the needs around us.  Let’s not say, “Someday when I have more money, or more time, or more xxxx, I will give, help, serve.”  Let’s not become so accustomed to our way of living that we call our “wants” “needs,” and allow ungratefulness to sneak in and plant discontentment in our hearts.  Let’s not compare ourselves to our friends, our neighbors, or our coworkers.  Let us absolutely not define our worth in terms of our earthly possessions.

Let’s give until it hurts, with no strings attached.  Let’s think of others before ourselves.  Let’s not look at our day and build our agenda based on what WE think is important.

Instead, let’s wake up and say, “Lord, how can I join you in YOUR agenda for my day?  How can I be a blessing to others?  How can I share what you’ve blessed me with?”  Let’s be quick to listen and to respond to His prompting.  Let’s be observant to the needs around us!

What does this look like practically, you ask?

• Let’s go through the drive through and buy our friend a coffee, instead of one for ourselves.
• Let’s anonymously pay someone’s electric bill who we know is struggling.
• Let’s pay for a random stranger’s dinner bill in a restaurant.  
• Let’s have a yard sale and donate the profits to another family, instead of buying a new electronic device.
• Let’s sell our smartphone, go back to an archaic one, and donate the difference.
• Let’s show up at another mom’s house and watch her kids so she can go out for a little bit alone.
• Let’s give sacrificially.  Let’s think about how much we are “comfortable” giving, and then give twice that amount.
• Let’s ask Jesus how we can use our tax return to bless someone else, instead of using it on ourselves.
• Let’s find JOY IN GIVING!  Let’s not look at it as a chore or a burden, but as a blessing and a privilege!!
• Let’s not wait until we “have more money.” Let’s listen to what God’s asking of us now.

Let’s be slow to form assumptions.  Let’s be slow to accuse, and quick to give the benefit of the doubt.  Let’s try to understand. Let’s remember that God is righteous and just, and He is our defender.

Exodus 14:14 —The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”

Let’s be quick to forgive.  Let’s extend the same grace to others that God continues to give us, though we surely don’t deserve it.  Let’s build others up.  Let’s use our tongues to encourage.  Let us not compete with each other!  For crying out loud, WE ARE ON THE SAME TEAM!

Let’s be real.  Not “Social Media” real, but “Real” real.  Let’s not make ourselves out to be better than we really are.  Let’s not portray our picture perfect family, void of struggles, messes, and challenges.  Let’s be honest.  Let’s tell it like it really is.  And let’s not criticize others along their journey.  Let’s not be afraid of being judged.  Let’s not live bound by perfectionism and fail to realize that others can often identify with us in the midst of our struggles.  

Let’s not grumble and complain when we reach roadblocks in life.  Let’s keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, the author of our faith.  Let’s try to keep eternal perspective.  Let’s allow our trials to build perseverance and character in us.  Let’s remember that all things work together for the good of those who love God: those who are called according to His purpose.  Let’s be quicker to say, “Yes, Lord,” and to trust Him.  Let’s not become discouraged.  Let’s keep our eyes ON Him and OFF of our circumstances!

Praying that everyone who reads this feels edified and encouraged today!

Much love,

Kirsten

Reality

Once again, a year has passed without a blog post.  Life with 6 kids is busy!  I’ve had a lot on my heart about adoption lately, and I have felt prompted to write a post about some of the realities of adoption.

Let me start right out of the gun by admitting: adoption is HARD.  Yes, there are easy moments: sweet snuggles, “I love yous,” the look of accomplishment when she learns how to read, hearing her sing “Deedus Yuvs Me Diss I know” in the backseat while tears of gratitude stream down your face, or the pride of a 3-year-old when he tells someone, “My daddy police man!” And those are the things people love to see.  People of course love feeling warm and fuzzy and like adoption is just so easy but heroic and that the kids just come into your home and you love them and provide security for them and then they just morph into these sweet little angels who are so grateful for the stability you offer,  and your white picket fence and your 2 dogs and your minivan and the smile on your face and your ‘amazing patience’ must just mean that you are living your “happily ever after.”

But oh, how that’s not the case.  If you don’t want the truth, the soul-baring mess of a heart that is breaking, then don’t read on.  I’m about to get real.  REALLY real.

For every smile I put on away from home, there are multiple times I sprawl out flat on the floor of my bedroom in deep sobs after yet another ‘episode’ with one of our adopted kids.   I never knew it was possible for a 6 1/2 year old to be capable of the level of manipulation that we witness in our home so many times a day.

To have an almost first-grader who uses anywhere but the toilet to go to the bathroom is embarrassing.  Disgusting.  Smelly.  And it honestly makes me angry.

To have a daughter who was the answer to your prayers and you try and try to connect with her heart yet that bond still hasn’t come, is heartbreaking.

To beg Jesus for wisdom and guidance and discernment and all of the character traits needed to parent a child diagnosed with Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD), and to still not feel like you have seen any progress, is humiliating.

To see other children in our home cry over one specific child breaking their special toys, acting aggressively towards them, or constantly cutting them down with her words, is exhausting.

To not find any sort of effective consequence for a child’s behavior is frustrating.  Recently I had taken all 6 kids for ice cream cones and everything was peachy keen until one child began telling another that she was ugly.  I told the offending child that her words were hurtful and unkind and I asked her how she would feel if someone said that about her.  Her response? “I don’t care.”  So I told this 6 1/2 year old that if she used those words again she would lose her ice cream.  Immediately following that, her eyes met mine in the rearview mirror and she proceeded to stare directly at me while repeating her unkind words to her sister.  I literally turned around, grabbed her cone and chucked it out the window of the car.  It didn’t phase her.  No remorse.  No being ‘bummed’ that she lost her cone.  No feelings of empathy towards the child who was crying so hard she couldn’t eat her own cone.  I was at such a loss.

As a woman, everything about me screams, “LOVE THE CHILDREN!  Love them!  Nurture them!  Shepherd them!  Teach them!”  But what if your child has been damaged and broken and though she doesn’t understand it, everything about her behavior says, “I hate you!  I hate this family!  I don’t love you!  I won’t let you in!”  And what if you’ve cried out to God 43,722 times for grace, compassion, healing for your daughter, emotional protection for everyone else in the home, for radical transformation of broken child in front of you, and after 4+ years the days are still so long and the nights feel too short and you just can’t get out of bed to face the reality of the hurt that stares you in the face begging you to fix it though her actions push you away?

And meanwhile you have 5 other babies to tend to and a house that needs cleaning and there is never enough money and you THANK THE LORD that your husband is amazing and scoops you up off of the floor yet again when he finds you and sees that you have no more tears to cry and you call yourself a failure of a mother and he speaks truth….and though he is quiet, FOR A MOMENT that truth penetrates deep into your heart and the lies that have been booming loud seem to dissipate and you wipe your face and head back downstairs to make dinner or fold the laundry or push someone “Higher!” on the swing or help with homework.

And once that day is over you crawl into bed and search for blogs from others who have adopted because there aren’t any friends you know of who have had a child diagnosed with RAD who struggle with similar feelings of failure that you do.  And if you don’t fall asleep reading the blog of a stranger, you open your Bible and read a few verses that encourage you and you know you should spend more time in the Word and less time beating yourself up but sometimes it is all you can do to just put one foot in front of the other to make it through the day with the brokenness of a 6 1/2 year old girl who needs nothing more than complete healing from Jesus.


I love this song by Matt Maher:


                                                        "Lord, I Need You"

Lord, I come, I confess
Bowing here I find my rest
Without You I fall apart
You're the One that guides my heart

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

Where sin runs deep Your grace is more
Where grace is found is where You are
And where You are, Lord, I am free
Holiness is Christ in me

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

Teach my song to rise to You
When temptation comes my way
And when I cannot stand I'll fall on You
Jesus, You're my hope and stay

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

You're my one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

Chosen, Wanted, Loved

A year ago today in a rural hospital, a tiny babe was born.  She spent the next 5 weeks struggling to overcome hurdles no human being should ever have to endure.  Her tiny body experienced pain that not even the strongest narcotic could relieve entirely.  By all worldly definitions she was unplanned, unwanted, abandoned, and alone.  For those 5 weeks, doctors and nurses cared for her, but she had no physical presence of a Mama or Daddy there to whisper "Fight, baby girl! Fight!" into her ear.

However, she was definitely not alone.  Though her biological parents did not plan her, GOD DID.  While I poured my heart out to God the entire month of February BEGGING him to protect the child or children who would join our family that year, He was doing exactly that, without my knowledge.
We had no idea of her existence until she was a month old.  But!  God, the King of the Universe and the Father of all creation, had His hand on baby A's life from the moment she was conceived.  HE was there with her the entire time in the hospital.  He saw every blood draw.  He witnessed every injection of medication she needed.  He was right beside her as oxygen pumped into her lungs and heart monitors ensured staff were notified if anything was awry.  And a couple hundred miles across the state, He was preparing our hearts for her arrival.

I clearly remember sharing with a couple of friends how hard it was to wait.  To not have any idea what age, sex, or size the child(ren) would be was difficult.  The last several children in our home had been baby boys, and I had nothing for a baby girl.  (I take that back.  I DID have one little pink puffy winter coat.)  While Caleb and Daddy prayed for a baby boy, Caitlyn, Elianna, and I prayed for a baby girl.  And though many of you know that God answered the prayers of ALL of us last year, baby A would be the first to arrive.

We got the phone call about her placement on a Thursday evening, but she wasn't quite ready to leave the hospital and we arranged to meet her and pick her up on Monday morning.   Our 3 older kids were with us, and we waited in a small office while a nurse explained her discharge instructions and asked if Micah and I had any questions.  After signing a bunch of paperwork, she left the room to get the baby.  We moved into the lobby area and waited only a brief minute before a sweet, very alert, brown eyed girl, swaddled tight in a light pink thermal-knit receiving blanket was brought through the door. We didn't even know her name!  As much as I tried, I could not contain the tears.  My eyes flowed buckets over this amazing little fighter who was entrusted to ME to take care of.  Like many times over the last few years, I was humbled.  This wide-eyed beauty was coming home with ME?

I have a history of disqualifying myself from any sort of blessing.  My thoughts often frequently fall along these lines: We shouldn't take a vacation because we really haven't really worked hard enough to warrant a break.  We shouldn't increase our foster license to take another child because we aren't the most patient parents.  I shouldn't sit down and take a nap today because I should be cleaning the house instead.

You get the point.

Somehow along the line I linked good things in my life to how hard I "do" for Jesus.  And I always come up short.  I constantly feel like I don't do enough, read enough, pray enough, give enough, or sacrifice enough.  To be completely honest, it sucks to feel like I am always playing catch up.

And yet for whatever reason, God chose US as baby A's parents.  And he chose HER to be our daughter.  We have been entrusted with a gift.  Why He chose us?  I do not know.  I do know that I am a regular person.  A plain Jane.  I get angry.  I forget to call people back.  I'm late a lot.  I raise my voice.  My house still has lots of boxes waiting to be unpacked.  I have piles of laundry that I need to do.  My kids don't get baths often enough.  Sometimes I forget to pack their lunches.  But thank God, literally, that His grace fills in all the places I fall short.

The last 11 months with baby A have been an incredible roller coaster.  A not-so-fun game of "she's staying, she's leaving, she's staying, she's leaving."  But she is staying now.  Not going anywhere anytime soon.  :)  We love her dearly.  I do not feel any different about her than I do the children I birthed.  She is God's chosen daughter, a princess of the King!!

Baby A will get older.  She will make mistakes.  She will fall short.  And God will cover her sin with His grace, just like He continues to cover mine.  I cannot tell you how excited I am to teach her this!  To lavish love on her and tell her about the God who created the universe, and about how much more He loves her than I even do!

God is teaching me so much.  Showing me that His blessings are poured out over our lives because He loves us!  Oh, how He loves us all!  We have not earned His blessings.  We cannot "do" something to make His blessings come.  He is good, He is faithful, and He blesses us because He wants to.  He has chosen us as His children.

Baby A, God chose you.  He planned you.  We wanted you.  We waited for you.  We love you.

Bonding

It's been 3 weeks since a little wispy haired, blue eyed, adorable little boy walked through our door into his forever home.  Although I was ecstatic for him to become a part of our family, I had one significant apprehension.

Bonding.

Before foster care, I hadn't really put much thought into that word.  Bonding with my biological children was instant.  The bonds were strong.  They grew even greater over time.  It was completely natural  and took zero effort.  The concept of a child having difficulty "attaching" was nowhere in my frame of reference.

And then we got our first foster placement: a strong-willed, 2-year-old who was broken.  Very, very broken.

The bond was not immediate.  I did not have a warm, fuzzy feeling like "all was right in my world."  But I wanted to feel SOMETHING!  After all, this child had experienced a significant amount of neglect and loss in such a short little life that surely my heart should feel SOMETHING!  Compassion, sympathy, love?  After all, I had been pouring out my heart to God for YEARS over orphans!  I was THRILLED that our journey down this path was finally beginning, so why am I not feeling it?  And after a couple of weeks it hit me:

Surrender.

I was trying to make it feel the same as I felt for my other kids.  I expected that when a child walked through our door the bond would be instant and our love would be enough to heal every wound and we would all live happily ever after.

Funny, God doesn't always work the way we think He will.  In fact, He made it very clear to us in the beginning that this was His story, and we were along to be His hands and feet.  I can see in hindsight that had it worked out the way I envisioned it, I never would have realized my absolute need for Him.   I wouldn't have been desperate.  I would not have cried out to Him for help.  And I never would have seen the beautiful story that arose from the ashes of that first child to enter our home.  And oh, it's a beautiful story.  It's Elliana's story.  A story of surrender.  Of healing.  Of a blossoming 5 year old girl that I love and would die for.  It's the story of my daughter.

We have had 7 other babies in the last 2 1/2 years, and I gave my heart to each and every one of them. But they were just that: babies.  It is easy to love and bond with a tiny, helpless baby that depends on you to meet their needs.   But a toddler?  That could be different.

I knew God would meet me where I was at.  I knew He had asked us to open our home to this precious little boy, but I was afraid.  Scared.   Terrified, to be completely honest with you.  What if he didn't bond with us?  What if he was was too broken and rejected our attempts to love him?  Lord, please.  I can't do this again.  I just can't.  It is exhausting.  It is humbling.  It is heartbreaking.  It is frustrating.  I cannot question, once again, my very integrity.  I HAVE to know that he will bond with us.  That we will bond with him.  And that it won't be such a battle.  Please, Lord, I beg you.

He gave me no promises.  No assurance that it wouldn't be a struggle.  No vision of "happily ever after."  But He continued to remind me over and over that we were welcoming "the least of these" and that our love for this little boy was actually His love for this little boy.

I surrendered.  Again.  :)  THAT, I could live with.

It's been an interesting 3 weeks.  Unfortunately he has been quite sick, and thanks to an incredible pediatrician who wanted us to schedule a hearing test for him, we discovered that he has hearing loss in both ears.  :(  They are doing a medical procedure next week under anesthesia to see if that helps, and then we'll move forward with speech therapy from there.  He has very few words which we think is related to the hearing loss.  But boy, does he have quite the personality!  ;)  He runs around with the other kids, eats like a horse, pushes his trucks around, tries to be a helper, and sleeps like a champ!  (And bites the baby and gets into the dogfood and tries to climb on top of the fridge and screams louder than anything you can imagine, but who's keeping track?)

I said to Micah a couple of nights ago, "It's happening."  He kind of cocked his head and said, "What is happening?"  I said, "I am already noticing a strong bond with him."  When I put him to bed last night and rubbed his little head, I realized afterwards that I said, "I love you sweet boy!  Have a good sleep." And I meant it.  :)   I am sure that bond will continue to grow, but I went to sleep last night thanking God that something on this journey has been easy.

I am so, so grateful for God's grace.  Just a couple of months ago I was really questioning God's goodness to me.  I mean REALLY questioning it.  That's not a great thing to type, and as much as I'd like to deny it, it's the truth.  :(  A friend and I were talking recently about how God can come through and show Himself to us in such amazing ways, but how quickly we forget!  How quickly do our circumstances become our gauge of His faithfulness in our lives!   This should not be the way we live. As much as challenging circumstances should not define His faithfulness to us, easy circumstances should not define His blessing over us!  God is good.  God is faithful.  End. Of. Story.

Party of FIVE!

I finally have big kids at school and little kids napping.....so I can blog the story of how our family just grew again!  :)  

Last December, the same day Elliana's adoption was final, we said goodbye to the baby boy we'd had for the last year.  Little Manny returned home to his mama, and we were blessed when she asked us to be his Godparents.  It was nice to have some time to grow and bond as a new family of 5, and within a couple of months, we were ready to add a baby again.  We technically had 2 openings and thought FOR SURE we would get a call for a sibling group!  Kids almost always come into care in at least pairs, but we were only willing to take a group if both children were 2 or younger.  In early March we got the phone call for the sweet baby girl we have now, and we are hoping to move toward guardianship of her soon.

But someone was still missing.

I couldn't shake the fact that we were missing a little boy.  Caleb prayed many times for a brother, and we DID get multiple calls for potential adoptive placements, but they were all infant boys.  And handling 2 potentially special needs babies simultaneously is, well, not in my skills list.  ;)  So we continued to wait.  And we continued to get calls for babies.  And we continued to say no.  

Labor day weekend, we got a call for what we thought was a 7 month old boy who was available for adoption.  Our social worker was very enthusiastic, told us he had no developmental concerns and no drug exposure.  Though that sounded positive, STILL, he was 7 months old!  How could we do that?!  I told her I would talk to Micah and call her back.  I talked to Micah, and we both agreed it was a no.  But before I had a chance to call our social worker back, the Adoption Supervisor called me to say they had been mistaken, and that he was a YEAR and 7 months old!  "Oh!  That changes things."  :)  We said we would talk (pray) about it overnight and get back to her the next day.  

That night while laying in bed, I was too excited to sleep.  I asked God for direction and He led me to Mark 2.  The passage was titled "The calling of Matthew (Levi)."  It talks about Matthew being a tax collector and Jesus comes along and tells him to get up and follow Him and Matthew becomes one of His disciples.  The next morning when I called the social worker back, I realized I hadn't asked his name.  Her answer?  "Matthew."    I got chills!  Also, 2 years ago this month I was blogging my heart out over losing the very first foster baby we had.  Do you remember what HIS name was?  Matthew!  Talk about a God of redemption!!!

We agreed to move forward and set up a visit to meet him and ask questions.  

The initial visit went great and we kept him overnight the next weekend.  It was an obvious match from the start!  Micah and I prayed about it both individually and as a couple, and the answer was clear:  this was our son.  We asked the social worker what kind of transition would occur between us and his current placement.  Normally we would be looking at anywhere from a 4 to 8 week transition.  Her answer?  "How about you take him full time starting next weekend?"  "Um, sure!"  So last Friday, his very sweet, older foster mom brought him to us, his forever home.   She is a very kind lady and we are excited that she still wants to play a "grandma" role to this sweet little guy.

We are THRILLED.  Elated.  Overjoyed.  Blessed.  Ecstatic.  Shocked!  

The adoption process will still take 6 months to be complete.  In our state, a child has to be in your home for 6 months before an adoption can be finalized.  We are fine with that.  :)  We're just excited he is here!!  :)

And can you believe I have not taken ONE photo of him with my camera?!  I've taken a couple on my Ipad, but that's it.  Let's just say that life as a mom of 5 kids is BUSY.  :)  

Stay tuned for updates!

Breaking Free

It's been 3 weeks since my last post and A LOT has changed in those 3 weeks!  First, baby girl is still with us, and she won't be leaving us anytime soon.  Though our foster/adopt journey has obviously had unpredictable twists and turns, she is here for now and we are thrilled to be her Mommy and Daddy for even one more day.  That is another blog post for another time....but for now.....

I know you are probably wondering if my anxiety is still, in fact, gone.  Guess what?  It is!!!  :)  This is the craziest thing!  Really, you will probably all think I've fallen off the deep end and lost my mind, but but I have been so busy enjoying my newfound freedom that I haven't made time to blog.  ;)

I wish I had adequate words to paint a picture for you of the depth of anxiety I lived in.  Saying it was awful, impairing, tormenting, or even crippling, is not a severe enough description of the prison I lived in.

I had an opportunity to share my story at church a couple of weeks ago!  You can see it here:


http://www.cccog.com/#/media 

(Then click on 8/19/12, "The Resurrection." My part starts around the 26 minute mark, but it's a great sermon if you want to listen to the whole thing!  ;)




Though anxiety has been a lifelong affliction, it's intensity grew to a point of being debilitating only in the past few years.   Simple tasks like going to get groceries or running to the bank were anxiety provoking.  Events that others would view as fun, like taking a day trip to the beach, was stretching and not enjoyable.  Being away from the kids for more than a night was out of the question.

BUT PRAISE THE LORD, I HAVE BEEN SET FREE!!!  Set. Free.  And believe me, I cannot tell you how undeserved this is.  Seriously!!  There is NOTHING I did to deserve this freedom.  I have a nice long list of reasons why I do NOT deserve it!

I said "no" when God asked me to trust Him!  When He asked me to run to Him for peace, I instead kept my mind busy with things like housecleaning or chatting with a friend or reading blogs so I didn't have to face the reality of my shrinking world.  It took me over 5 years to see a even see a counselor because I was too afraid to ask for help and felt like a "good Christian" should just stop being anxious and move forward.

I absolutely CANNOT believe I lived like that for a good 12+ years!  And above all else, I can't believe I reached a point where I actually "made peace" with the fact that anxiety would just be a permanent part of my life.  PSH!  How in the world can you "make peace" with anxiety?!

Today I packed up the kids and drove up to Olympia to take them school clothes shopping.  I GOT ON THE FREEWAY AND DROVE THERE!  With NO anxiety.  Zilch.  None.  Not a second thought.  I drove there like I'd done it a million times.  I didn't have a panic attack.  I didn't wonder if I was going to have a heart attack and die and crash my car.  I didn't take my pulse a thousand times (or even once!). I didn't feel like my throat was swelling shut.  It was the most freeing feeling!  (Girlfriends, who wants to take a trip to Hawaii with me?!  OK, nevermind, if I'm going to take a trip with someone it should probably be Micah since we spent our honeymoon in Oregon instead of Europe like we had hoped because it was the only place acceptable we could drive to.)

I know this may seem silly to someone who has never dealt with anxiety before, but this has been the reality of my life and I hope you've learned by now that I do not pretty things up before I barf them onto the pages of my blog.  This is real life.  My life.  And my hope is that it will somehow, in some way,  encourage someone else in their struggle.

Anywho, I'm off to get some sleep.  Did I mention my insomnia is gone too?  I honestly did not think there was a correlation between the two but I have slept like a rock for the past 3 weeks!  :)

Nighty, night!  :)

The goodness of God

This has been an amazing vacation. Not because of the beautiful surrounding mountain scenery, the pink painted sunset we watched line the sky, the family bike rides we've taken through nature, or the repeated trips to the pool watching our four little ones play for hours. Yes, these things have brought me joy, but they are miniscule in comparison to the unseen work God is doing on my heart.


I have been struck repeatedly on this trip by the basic goodness of God. His hand of protection over my family. His mercy. His grace. His undeserved forgiveness for my lack of faith in Ariana’s life. I have been reminded multiple times over the past few days that God is just plain good. My circumstances do not change His goodness. My broken heart does not change His goodness. My fears, insecurities, doubts and unbelief do not change His goodness. See, God IS good. He doesn't "act" good or "allow" good things to happen. His very character IS goodness, and that will never change.


I have struggled for years with fear. Counseling, medication, different forms of therapy, positive self talk, breathing techniques, and numerous self help books have all been attempted to quell the anxiety that has been present every day of my life for at least the past 15 years. I am not exaggerating when I say that I have been unable to drive on the freeway for several years now. I've missed out on women's retreats, fun weekends away with girlfriends, playdates with friends from out of town and many other events as a result of the fear that has plagued me. I desperately wanted to take an out-of-country trip with Micah to celebrate our 10th anniversary this spring but settled for one night alone in our own house while my parents kept the kids at their house a few blocks away. I have been unable to even run up to Olympia to do errands by myself. Instead I have dragged my husband and 4 kids along for the ride because something as simple as driving 20 minutes to Costco alone was not an option.  


Last fall I had multiple blood tests done, urine tests, a chest x-ray, an ultrasound of my heart and abdomen, thyroid tests, a gallbladder function procedure, and an endoscopy and biopsy under sedation of my stomach. All these procedures were done to discover why I was constantly having digestive issues, stomach pain, shakiness, weakness, dizziness, and fatigue.  Final diagnosis?  Other than a small ulcer that was corrected with an over-the-counter medication in about 6 weeks, NOTHING.  No blood chemistry was off.  My vital organs were all healthy and functioning exactly how they were created to.   My thyroid was normal.  No gallstones.  Normal pee. No signs of cancer or serious disease anywhere in my body.  Ironically, within days of completing the tests and being given the “all clear,” my symptoms dissipated.  Completely.  Can you say, “anxiety?”


I have felt God speaking to me for quite a while regarding this issue.  He has asked me to trust Him.  To give up control (which technically is just the impression of control as we don’t really ‘control’ our lives anyway).  To spend more time seeking HIS desire for my life in regards to living a life bound by fear.  And I have not done what He asked.  Instead I have gripped tighter, attempted to control my circumstances to a greater degree, and practically “get over” my anxious thoughts.  I have not fallen flat on my face in utter desperation to petition God for a miracle.  I felt like if medication and therapy did not work, then I needed to just accept this as part of who I am.  Friends, if you hear nothing else, please hear this: God does not intend for us to live our lives bound by fear!  You probably aren’t as sinful as me.  Seriously. Your fears may be nowhere as intense as mine, but He wants us all to trust Him even in the “little things.”  Two nights ago I was cooking dinner, and I felt the presence of God so strongly.  I don’t want to get all weird on you, but I literally felt anxiety and fear lift off of me.  Gone.  Eradicated.  I wanted to put down the wooden spoon I was stirring the pasta with and drive somewhere, alone, just because I knew I could!  Micah and the kids were in the kitchen too and I was so struck by God’s presence that I was completely oblivious to anything else going on.  I was brought to my knees.  Thankful.  So, so thankful that He was doing a work on my heart.  I am very aware that this is not something I deserve.


The world is SO MUCH BIGGER than just me and my little circumstances.  I look back on times in my life when I was devastated--and believe me, there have been plenty of times—and am appalled by my reactions.  How in the world could I actually be angry with the very One who created me?  Who died on a cross, so that I could be set free from the bondage I live in?  Did you hear that?  Jesus died, NAILED TO A CROSS so that I could be set free from my anxiety.  Continuing to choose to live a life of bondage is discrediting the ultimate sacrifice God made.  That is very, very, humbling.


So what is the secret to this unmerited peace? Genuine thankfulness. A heart of gratitude. I am humbled that God cares enough about my character to allow trials to come in order that my faith may grow. I am clearly in need of greater refinement and sanctification in my life. If difficulties never presented themselves, how would I have a chance to grow? To trust? To submit to the One who sees the big picture?


I don’t anticipate feeling joy on Monday as I say goodbye to the baby I wanted to keep forever.  I can hear her cooing and babbling as I type this blog entry, and my heart is broken over the fact that those adorable baby sounds will not wake me up next week at this time.  My faith is being stretched to a level that is quite uncomfortable, yet I have such peace.

Our salvation is enough.  If God did NOTHING else for us, NOTHING else, we are still blessed!!!  Do you realize what we deserve?  It is not what we have been given!  Every time I fall short, every time I fail to acknowledge His grace in my life, every time I ignore Him and go my own way, I do not deserve that grace that He gives!  Repentance is such a gift.

May I live every day I have on this earth choosing to live set free.  Choosing peace. Choosing to trust God for the grace I need to make it through each day.