There is a Time for Everything Under the Sun

Our third child didn’t get a baby shower.  Not because historically it’s improper in the book of manners, but because I just didn’t think my heart could handle it.  The last time I had been pregnant with a boy, my friends gathered around me as we ate chocolate and vegetables and artichoke dip, all the while cooing over adorable blue polka dot blankets and all things tender and tiny.  It had been almost four years since I had first become a mom, and with that bit of experience, this time around was a bit sweeter and much more relaxing.  With almost four years of practice under my belt, this was going to be a lot easier, a piece of cake.  I more or less knew how to prepare and what to expect.

I had let my guard down and was burned.  That wasn’t going to happen this time.

My friend recently posted how she had taken almost 1000 pictures of her nephew’s birth, and prior to that, she shared pictures of the shower she hosted for her sister, a celebration of the anticipation of their third child.

I am not one to weep over regrets, but my heart sunk a little.  Why hadn’t I allowed the many who offered to host me a baby shower just do what their hearts wanted to do?  Receiving help is difficult for me.  Pride gets in the way of receiving, because I am a damn strong woman and can do a hell of a lot on my own.  However, I’ve found over time how strength is beautiful in numbers, how relying on God and others is not weakness shown but rather confidence revealed.  Real trust, to the core…an ability to recognize most great masterpieces are made up of more than one color, a brick is solely a brick on its own, and a tree will never grow if the seed isn’t ever planted.

No orchestra is made up on solely one instrument.

And only now, after just having loosely celebrated Ryan’s 3rd birthday (Em was sick, he didn’t know it was his birthday or what that meant, really, and Jason and I were just home from Spain), am I able to understand it wasn’t out of guilt or feeling sorry for me that my friends, old and new, wanted to host me a shower. 

I realize now that a shower is to celebrate the anticipation of the little life about to enter the world, an opportunity to celebrate the woman carrying that life, the waiting parents, and a space for everyone to rejoice.  

There is a time for everything under the sun.  Pregnancy and the anticipation of a child is a time of celebration.  Only when news otherwise is relayed should the celebration turn into mourning.

There is a time for everything under the sun.

We don’t skip bridal showers because we think the poor couple won’t last past the infamous 7-year itch.  We don’t forgo weddings for the same reason.  There is no guarantee, on any given day, we will all make it to the 89 year old mark, so should we all skip cake and ice cream, all the years leading up to our day?   There is no guarantee, only hope and hard work, if our marriages will, indeed, continue happily ever after.  Just because a woman is pregnant does not mean the baby inside of her is meant for this side of Heaven.

And just because my heart was raw, carrying another son in my womb, unsure of the days to come, jaded a bit from loving and losing, doesn’t mean I should have denied my family and friends the opportunity to anticipate and celebrate the life growing in me and the arrival of our newest family member.

I’m not saying it was right or wrong to deny my friends and family a chance to host a shower for me years ago.  What I am saying is, in my selfish attempt to protect my heart from further heartache and disappointment, I shut down and didn’t even allow those who loved me to show their love faithfully as they had in the past.  They had celebrated with us, and also mourned when it was time.  

Birthdays, showers, anniversaries, holidays.  All of these celebrations, though marked with loss and memories, no matter how distant, are indeed, celebrations.

I'm not sure why I'm writing this 4 years from when my friends offered to throw me a shower, but I felt strongly to share my heart.  Maybe you are fearful to celebrate the anticipation of a child on the way, perhaps you have had adoptions fall through and it's scary to let your head and heart go there again.  Maybe fear is gripping you as you allow your heart to fall deeply in love again after the loss of a spouse?  I don't know.

I do know for several months I was fearful Ryan would die, just like his big brother.  And I had really, really, really, really, really fallen in love with Noah.  But I knew Noah was dying, and at the same time, I knew he deserved all my love and I loved him with all of my mommy heart.  I don't live in fear anymore that Ryan is going to die like his brother.  He will die.  I don't know when.  God knows the number of our days.  I do know this, however...I have jumped in with both feet in loving Ryan.  The ache and grief of losing his brother does not hang over me as I flip his curls through my fingers, rub noses, snuggle in our favorite chair while reading, and play choo-choo's in the basement.  I'm in love and it feels really amazing.

Every Single Day is a celebration of the lives around us, even our very own.  Is there someone in your life who needs celebrating today?

The only loss in loving is to look back and realize we never gave it our all.

Knee-Jerk Reaction

I'm nauseous. 

Sick to my stomach.

There's a pit deep in my guts that hurts and aches.

Part of it aches and mourns for the families of the sweet Kindies and staff in Connecticut who were brutally shot down by a guy who was really just another kid, only taller.  

20 years old.  What were you doing when you were 20?  I was studying Spanish III, Humanities, and Major World Religions.  I was laughing with friends, in the dorms, at the cafeteria, over at the gym.  Every Thursday night I was leading a small group of girls in Bible study and prayer, just trying to figure out how to navigate college and life.  I was heading out on date nights with my then boyfriend, now husband, and having girls’ night out with my 30 closest "BFF's".  I was "being" 20.

Another part of my heart aches for all the "leftovers."  I hate that fear and despair and nightmares and only memories and empty places at kitchen tables are now reality for some families on the East Coast.  I hate that kids just lost their playground playmates.  

Planning a funeral for your kid is a heart wrenching thing.  

I also know what it's like to be in 3rd and 4th grade and lose friends.  It sucks.

Our Country needs a priority check.

Last month people left and right were warring with words and signs and sentiments about how our Country needs change.  I was physically sick some days in my guts, deep in the pit of my stomach, at how much hope and hopelessness was being placed, or not placed, in political figures and laws and policies, in humans.  Really?  

As if ONE MAN or WOMAN has that much power or influence...

Our World needs a priority check.

Tragedies happen like tsunamis and earthquakes and fires and floods and hurricanes, and shootings, and people join together to help for a time.  Hug a little tighter, share possessions, wipe tears.  And, from my observation and personal experience, fear then sets in.  For some it is crippling to the point of isolation, for others it produces paranoia, still others violence as a protective measure.  I’ve literally stared at my son for 2 years.  I get it.

But the only knee-jerk reaction that we as a Country and as individuals need to take is the kind that bends our knees and bows our heads and hearts.

Because ONE MAN or WOMAN does have that much power and influence...to literally change the world.  But it has to happen in our hearts first.  It must happen with our knees physically bent, heads bowed, hearts laid bare before God, the ONLY ONE WHO CAN BRING HEALING IN THIS BROKEN WORLD.

We need a priority check that places God back as the number One priority.

I'm sick of the political "correctness" and spiritual "correctness" in our attempts to "build" bridges.  

So far, the attempts have done nothing but bring out our ugliness.  People are fighting for their right for this or that, freedom to do what they want, say what they will.  The choice to do whatever, whenever, wherever, with whomever.

Me, me, me, me, me, me, me.  But that's fine for you, you, you, you, you.

YES!  ONE MAN or WOMAN does have that much power and influence, and we've seen it can be for either good or evil. 

I think the words were, "Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven."

None of this is God's will.  None of it is His wrath.  Stop being pissed at Him.  He has never stopped being good.

The shit hits the fan because we think we want to be in charge.

I know in my own life, it's not working for me...the part of me being in charge.

Our Country needs a knee-jerk reaction, that's for sure.  But it's not for or against guns and it's not in a mass exodus towards homeschooling.

Every.  Single.  Knee.  All of them.  Both of mine.  

Bending.  Bowing.  One man, one woman changing the world, two knees at a time.

We need revival.