The Father's Love Lessons

Where we focus our attention determines the attitude we have.

I'm starting to catch on that this is a lesson God really, really wants me to learn. He wants me to understand that even in a heavy, dark place, His light will shine and permeate the dark. That when I feel unable to handle the situation I am in, His presence will carry me.

I believe within the deepest part of me that as our Father, God desires that His children would walk in freedom. That in spite - even because of - our circumstance, we can live each moment of our days in the peace that walking with God provides.

I'm learning that this requires something of us, though. It requires that we fight to focus our attention on Jesus every step of the way. "Fight" may seem like a strong verb to use, but if you've been through a pit of life or are currently in one, you know that it absolutely takes a warrior heart to, yes, fight against each and every circumstance that attempts to steal our attention from God. It is the troubles of life in general - sickness, loss, stress, everyday worries - that so fiercely steal our focus if we let them. The things that aren't fitting into our plans and the situations that hit us hard when we least expect them are what capture our attention in a heartbeat. We can get so bogged down in the trouble that every bit of our attention is placed on those things instead of God, and as a result, our attitude falters.

Maybe we begin to look inward, focusing on how the trouble is negatively impacting us and internally naming all the ways this trouble is messing up our plans. Possibly, our attitude toward others changes, our attention focused on one's shortcomings or struggles. Perhaps our attitude toward God begins to change. We begin to doubt that in the midst of our trouble, He is doing a good thing, our trust in Him momentarily faltering.

I have, without a doubt, struggled in each of these areas. I'm struggling even now, fighting to keep my eyes focused on Jesus in this newest season of life's trouble, trying to understand the enigma that is God's timing.

I'm having to learn how to say goodbye to my mother, watching as her mind slips elsewhere as dementia slowly takes over her brain.

About a month after we found out we were pregnant, we got some heavy news: an MRI showed three new spots in the brain of my mother. Brief history, here. My mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor a little over 20 years ago, when I was just a toddler. She was given months to live but made the decision to endure intense chemo and radiation as well as tricky brain surgery to remove the tumor as well as part of the frontal lobe of her brain. Though doctors said she may not live long, God had other plans entirely: she survived.

Recently, though, following the news the MRI revealed, her health began to rapidly decline. In a matter of months, she went from being mostly independent and living alone to being cared for by Hospice in her new home, an assisted living facility. It is so rapid, in fact, that we are barely beginning to accept her latest decline before she slips further down. To say I don't fully understand God's timing is quite possibly the understatement of the year.

A few months ago, Daniel and I spent a night in the ER with her following a fall and potential head injury at her residence. As she was lying there sleeping in the hospital bed, I sat and just watched her breathe. I let the emotions I hold at bay come out freely, feeling heartbreak in watching my Mother's decline and seeing her in such a condition. Feeling frustration over knowing there is nothing, medically speaking, we can do to heal her. And, feeling a need to understand why this is happening.

Just then, in the midst of that (mostly) inner emotional turmoil, I felt my baby girl move within me. In a way, it jolted me back to reality. The moment before, I was preoccupied in my bubble of frustration: my attention being on me, my attitude being an inwardly focused one. As my little girl moved, it was a perfect reminder of all the GOOD in my life right now. Yes, there is pain in experiencing my mother's decline. Of course there is. Of course this is an incredibly difficult time. But, that pain is not to discredit all the ways God is richly blessing us. I need to look no further than my (quickly) growing midsection to refocus my attention.

He gives us nothing but good gifts. Luke 11:13 says "If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him?" As her imperfect mother, giving Camden something that would bring about destruction in her life is unfathomable to me, so how much more must God, our PERFECT  Father, desire to give us good things? Our Father God giving us good gifts is not up for debate. What is, though, is whether we see the gifts as something good from Him instead of focusing on whether or not we understand His timing in these gifts.

In that moment of feeling Camden move, I thanked God for the perfect gift that she is and began to cry out to Him. I didn't pray anything specific but instead just called out His name. I didn't even know what I needed from Him, but He did. A bit later, I saw a verse, Isaiah 46:4, shared on a social media site. I looked it up in my bible, and it read: "Even to your old age I am he, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you. I will sustain you and I will rescue you."

I read those words and wept. The peace of God in this moment was unmistakable. I wept at the love of God, that as my Father he spoke tenderly to me words that brought comfort to my aching heart. I wept at the reminder that He is holding my Mama's precious life in His hands, and that even when it looks like she has been forsaken by Him, He has done no such thing. He is caring for her and will do so until He decides to bring her home.

This verse has acted as a reminder from the Spirit to fight in the those moments when I am tempted to focus on my lack of understanding above all. A reminder to keep my eyes focused on Jesus and to actively look for His gifts in the midst of everything else going on. Turns out, His gifts have not been hard to spot.

Like the gift of my mom's lucidity two months ago as we shared that we were having a baby girl and the story of how she was named. That in that moment, my mother and I held hands and cried tears of joy over the gift of Camden's life.

Or, the afternoon when my Mom remembered how much I enjoy sweet tea in my pregnancy as she ordered it for me before I arrived for lunch with her.

And then there is getting the gift of speaking God's heart to her as we sat outside today, the warm breeze blowing gently as if God's breath. I got to tell her how much God loves her and that He is taking care of her, and then reading Isaiah 46:4 over her after being prompted by the Spirit.

And, possibly, the best gift of all: My mother, with a weak smile displayed on her beautiful face, stroking my cheek with the tangible love of a mother for her daughter.

These are the things that I desire to fight to focus on. I want my eyes to see all the gifts God is giving here and live in this season with an attitude of thankfulness and trust in His plan instead of focusing on the many negatives here, thus succumbing to an attitude of resentment toward God.

The setbacks here are thick, yes; but God's love is thicker. The pain is real, but so is God's plan for Mama's life. Her physical and mental struggles right now are intense. But, so is God's power to heal. It is not a matter of if God will heal my Mama; it is a matter of when.

Thank you, Jesus, for the work You are doing. We praise You!

Love Stirring Within

I don't mean to start this post in a dreary fashion, but nonetheless, here I go.

In case you have yet to look at the calendar on your phone or computer or some other device within reach, today is February 16, 2014. The symbolism of today is that two years ago exactly, we found out we were losing our first child in miscarriage.

Way to be Debbie Downer, huh?!

Well, for your sake, I can tell you this post will get better.

Unbeknownst to us, we were just taking our first - and unwilling - steps into a very real pit of life where we stayed for nearly two years.

Here is where it gets better:

I feel that it should be easy to spit these words out, but there is just so much tied to them that I couldn't possibly just get straight to the point. I hope at this stage in my blogging journey, you the reader have become fond of my innate ability to talk and talk and talk (or in my case, write and write and write). If you haven't; Welp... all I can say is, be glad you are only reading my words instead of having a face-to-face conversation with me. I feel confident my loved ones would easily tell you I like to talk! But I digress...

I have yearned to speak these words for what feels like much longer than two years. I have hoped these words would come true in our lives. And, I feared I would never be able to attach them to my story. Alas, God is bigger. He is sovereign over my yearning, hopes, and fears. And He is faithful, painfully and overwhelmingly so that thinking of His commitment to the promises spoken over our lives gives me the sensation my heart might explode! He has been faithful in pursuing my heart, begging me to remain focused on His perfected Love in an attempt to keep the desires placed within me pure. He has been faithful to lead us through the pit with patience as we cautiously took most steps, and He has been faithful in honoring our obedience on the rare occasion we stepped forward willingly and excitedly.

Just as quickly as we entered that pit, God held our hands as He led us out of it.

On December 22, 2013, we saw what we have been praying for for over two years: TWO PINK LINES. God's whisper in that moment and the moments following, "I am faithful".

On December 23, bloodwork confirmed more than our pregnancy; it confirmed His faithfulness.

On January 7, 2014, the tiny fluttering of a developing heart rendered us breathless. Tears flowing, we marveled at His love and creation.

Faithful.

On January 17, we heard with our ears the fierceness of life within, strong like the galloping of horses feet.

Faithful.

On February 3, we saw with our eyes the tiny body - 3.15 centimeters from the top of Baby's head to it's bottom - wiggling and moving around with ease in the womb.

Can you see it? Feel it?

Faithful!

So, so faithful.

We are beyond joyful! We are praising God. We are in absolute awe that the hands of our loving Father are in my womb, shaping, molding and leaving fingerprints all over this precious life that we fall deeper in love with every day. This is God's child that He is giving to us to be ours! We are humbled, and incredibly, incredibly thankful to receive His beautiful gift.

It is only fitting that on the second anniversary of a day shrouded in pain and loss would God allow me to reach my third month of pregnancy.

And lest I forget - God has honored our prayers, specifically allowing me to be the Shunammite woman (2 Kings 4:8-17). In just a few months, on Mother's Day, I will be able to hold our child while baby grows within me. It is too much to bear, this love, this goodness, this precious life!

To God be the glory. To God be the praise.

Thank you, Jesus, for the work You are doing. We praise You!