Bless the Lord

Whatever may pass and whatever lies before meLet me be singing when the evening comesBless the Lord, oh my soulOh my soulWorship His holy name

Dear God,  
I did things I shouldn't have yesterday. I acted ways I shouldn't have. I have a tendency to try bargaining with You and I'm sorry. I should want to have a relationship with You just because of who You are, not because of anything You could do for me.
Please see past my inadequacy and use me. I want to impact people, I want to change other people showing them how You've taken what You could out of me and helped me. Help me to love like You love and see people as You do.
No matter what happens with Ben's new job or with this season in our lives, I will bless Your name because You have shown Your Words to be true in my life. You have never failed me.
I love you... Thank You for perfecting me and believing the best for me.
Amen. 

Hello, again.

Hello, again. Just a little contemplation for the day... about prayer. And I'm going to be real with you.

I've always had a hard time praying.

I know you're supposed to talk to God like a friend. I know that He hears me when I pray. I know that He desires a relationship with me. I know all that... but do I believe it?

Sometimes I do. Sometimes I feel God's presence so real and powerful in my life, it's undeniable. Other times, I feel like I do right now. Like God is a million miles away and just watching me go through my every day motions. Like my prayers don't go beyond the confines of my thoughts.

I desire to have a closer relationship with God because I know that's the only way I'm going to find His will and be able to walk in it. I know it's the only way I'm going to be a better wife and mother. I know it's the only way. 

So, for today....

Dear Lord, You know the desires of my heart. You know that I'm not perfect, nor do I claim to be, but God, I want You to refine me and help me to better understand Your heart and Your purposes. Father, please guide me and lead me to where You would have me go. Please develop in me a spirit of love and patience, not one of judgment or hypocrisy. I want to be a light in the darkness. I want to break the silence between us. I want to feel You working in my life as powerfully as You once did. And I know you can do this, because it says in Your Word that You can. And, so I ask, in accordance with Your Word that You would show Yourself in my life and my family's lives. That You would help me during this next month grow in a deeper understanding of You, who You are, and what that means in my life.

I ask all these things in Your name. Amen. 

Amen.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is despair, hope.

Where there is darkness, light.

Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Introspection

So many times I look at others from the outside in. Analyze why they make the decisions they make. Try to figure out what exactly in their lives or their background would lay the groundwork for such a choice... but I rarely turn that critical eye to myself-- so here goes.

I didn't want to spread myself too thin. I didn't want to strain my relationship with my husband. I wanted to spend more time with my son. I was burnt out from last season...

But

It's not fair that I don't get any credit for where they are now. It's not fair that someone else (who truly is an awful person... I think that makes this worse) gets to steal my work and claim it as their own. It's not fair that any recourse I have sounds petty.

Also

It's not fair of me to be jealous of something I willingly turned away from. It's not. It's not fair for me to criticize and demean someone who filled the spot I left. (... did I really want it in the first place?) It's not fair of me to wish anything but good things on them; the group I helped for four years to grow.

I was a good teacher. I am a good wife. I am a good mother. I'm an okay Christian. I wasn't a good student. I try to be a good worker. None of these things are absolutions or excuses; just musings to try to reason why I feel the way I do.

... That's it for now, I suppose.

On Birth, Part 4...

Everything is a blur. A moment. I can feel sensations again and they hurt. A splash of color in a wilderness of pain.

The nurse came in, I started holding my breath and the baby's heart rate increased. They gave me oxygen and it went down. Then we got the news, bad news... He was face up; he had to turn before he could come out. The nurse told me that many people with babies in similar positions have to have C-sections. I started panicking. I look to Mom, to Ben, to Jessica. I pray. I turn myself inside out with the want for a child I've never seen. We pray. They lay hands on my stomach and we pray for the baby, for me, for a healthy delivery. I push and push and push and we lose his heartbeat. All the sound is sucked out of the room and I can't speak or think until I hear that familiar wooshing sound once more. He's moved lower; he's turned himself! He's coming out and, suddenly, the excavator of my bone and flesh slides out and I am empty.

I wait and look and I hear him before I see his face. They place him in my arms. I feel his slippery soft head, look into his blue eyes and wonder if any child has ever been this perfect. I am delivered unto him. I am his and he is mine... ours.

They take him away and my arms feel empty in a way they have never experienced. When they bring him back he is much cleaner, and they lay him on my chest. He looks at me and we look at each other, overwhelmed by the sense of-- everything. But, he is here.

Gabriel.

On Birth, Part 3

Continuing on...

I decided to get the epidural. I was informed that once I had gotten said epidural I would be confined to my bed... which really was okay with me because by this point I was unbelievably exhausted. Mom held my hand and we waited, and I rocked in a rocking chair and we waited, and finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the man who shall henceforth be known as the "faux anesthesiologist" (the FA) came in. He explained the procedure to me and set up his equipment. The nurse had me sit up on the edge of the bed and put my feet on mom's knees and rest my elbows on a pillow in my lap. I stayed perfectly still as the FA proceeded to jab my spine... only to feel like my left leg was falling asleep. Awesome. Not only did I have a 6 inch needle in my back, but now I couldn't feel my leg.

Something was wrong. Mom's face tensed up, as did the nurse's. I didn't really notice anything other than that because I was terrified that I would make one wrong move and end up paralyzed so I stayed as still as I possibly could while the real anesthesiologist proceeded to correctly put in the epidural.

After the epidural, they decided that they would help things along by giving me Pitocin. I didn't care because I couldn't feel anything anyways so with epidural and Pitocin drip in place, I tried to nod off. At this point I hadn't slept in almost 24 hours and I was so ready for a nap. I got as comfortable as a huge pregnant woman, swollen 5 times her size, could and flashed between dreams and sleep and Gone with the Wind (still on...) and mom and Ben and nurses and monitors. Until finally, they woke me up.

"Bethany... You're fully dilated. 10 centimeters. It's time to push."

In my mind this was, perhaps the most pivotal moment of the past 14 hours. There was no stopping it, no turning back. I couldn't help but think of how intricately God designed my body to do exactly what it was about to do, but at the same time I was scared. So many things could go wrong. I looked in the faces of mom, Jessica, and Ben. They were all so reassuring, when I myself was unsure. I had regained some feeling and could feel the urge to push. It was time to meet our baby.

thoughts for today

Psalm 31:14-24 from The Message...

14-18 Desperate, I throw myself on you: you are my God!
Hour by hour I place my days in your hand,
safe from the hands out to get me.
Warm me, your servant, with a smile;
save me because you love me.
Don't embarrass me by not showing up;
I've given you plenty of notice.
Embarrass the wicked, stand them up,
leave them stupidly shaking their heads
as they drift down to hell.
Gag those loudmouthed liars
who heckle me, your follower,
with jeers and catcalls.

19-22 What a stack of blessing you have piled up
for those who worship you,
Ready and waiting for all who run to you
to escape an unkind world.
You hide them safely away from the opposition.
As you slam the door on those oily, mocking faces,
you silence the poisonous gossip.
Blessed God! His love is the wonder of the world.
Trapped by a siege, I panicked.
"Out of sight, out of mind," I said.
But you heard me say it,
you heard and listened.

23 Love God, all you saints;
God takes care of all who stay close to him,
But he pays back in full
those arrogant enough to go it alone.

24 Be brave. Be strong. Don't give up.
Expect God to get here soon.

Expect God. What are my expectations of God?

The expectation that God will do something is different than asking Him. When someone has shown you they will do something, regularly and on-time, you come to expect that of them. You trust that they will do as they always have done. You expect it. You don't need to ask because you trust that thing is already completed or in the works of completion.

There's so much that I desire right now that I can't accomplish on my own. To grow closer with God and to Ben (and deepening our spiritual relationship with one another), to find a church where Ben, Gabe, and I can grow, to get a new job so I can experience the special, mundane everyday with my precious baby, to be a better person.

But I can't do all those things by myself... and even if I did, how good would it be if God wasn't in it? I could try to go it alone, but I don't want to. I'm sick of trying to make things happen on my own. I'm spiritually tired of trying to sustain myself.

Drawing on my recent experience of becoming a mother, I'm able to see some interesting parallels. Just as I was expecting a son and he was given to Ben and I, I'm expecting God to birth something new in my spirit and in my life. I'm expecting it because that's what He's always done. I've asked Him for the aforementioned things, but I expect that He will do what He has done before-- answer in His timing. And whatever happens... my expectation is that His will for me will be perfect.

I just need to be brave and strong and not give up that God will show Himself... and He will show up soon.

On Birth, Part 2

Now where was I? Oh yes.

... Ben had actually been looking forward to breaking the land speed record on the way to the hospital, but since it was around 1 o'clock and we weren't on the interstate there was zero traffic. And since Mom was riding with us in the car so she could man the contraction timer I doubt he wanted to push his luck. He did run a red light at the hospital though... just because he could. When we arrived at the hospital, I was sat down in a wheelchair and carted up to Labor & Delivery. The nurses wheeled me into a room, hooked me up to the monitor and asked me about 5,000 questions. Was I doing drugs? Was Ben abusing me? Was that really amniotic fluid or had I just peed? (Just kidding on that last one, but at first I think they thought I was bluffing.)

After they decided that I wasn't faking and that I was truly in the throes of labor, I was already 2cm dilated and having contractions that were about 3 minutes apart and getting stronger. I had decided (and talked to Ben about) my hesitation to have an epidural right away, but as far as pain medication goes I wasn't really strongly leaning one way or another. I know some women are very anti-drug during labor and some women want it as soon as they feel their first contraction. I was somewhere in between. So they hooked me up to an IV and gave me so much fluid that my wrists and ankles started to resemble flesh-like balloons. I got to the point where laying down wasn't comfortable, so Mom and Jessica and I started walking the halls. I had to stop every once and a while for a strong contraction or to have a nurse check my progress, but I walked the halls of L&D about every hour from 2 o'clock in the morning until about 9.

And that's when the pains really started to get bad. I thought I had prepared myself for it, but I don't think it's something you can really prepare yourself for. It was an onslaught. I broke my resolve and got some morphine through my IV and Gone with the Wind was on the television and Mom was sitting down beside me and I would watch the monitor religiously because it made me feel better to know when a contraction peaked, because once it peaked it usually went down... Usually. That's what I remember. Glimpses of memories through a wilderness of pain. I lost all charm, all wit, most of my intelligible motor functions. I tried to pray and lost my place. I kept thinking two words and repeated them over and over again in my head like a broken record: Ben, baby, Ben, baby, Ben, baby. Over and over again. I wondered how much longer it would be. The nurse came in and checked me around 11 and I thought that surely with all this pain I must be almost done and ready to push, right? Right?

Nope. Only 6cm. I still had 4 to go. The nurse asked me if I wanted an epidural and after talking to Mom and Ben, weighing the options of taking the medicine and worrying about the complications of the drugs (a possible C-section... which I definitely didn't want to happen) or keeping on with this excruciating pain. I had a tough decision to make. But with every contraction I knew it was bringing me closer to seeing my son. It was pain with a purpose, but pain nonetheless. He was barreling down, excavating my flesh and bone, whether I was ready or not.

I decided on the epidural.

To be continued...

On Birth, Part 1

A little over a month after having Gabe, I finally feel like I've processed what happened enough to write about all my experiences... So from what I can remember, here is Gabriel's birth story:

Black Friday, November 25, 2011 was just that-- black. And bleak and sad. I was a week overdue and I was mentally and physically exhausted. My Sister-in-Law had just had her baby and I was happy for her, but I was jealous. I wanted to see mine. So, that evening I was sitting on the computer, pouring over every website I could find, drinking tea made out of cumin seeds (I cringe at the thought) and waiting and hoping and praying.

Earlier that day Mom and Jessica forced me out of the house so we could shop and walk around (even though I knew at that point walking wasn't going to help, I indulged them). I endured endless questions about the contractions that I hadn't experienced and had to keep giving the same answer, "No." It tore at me a little each time and I began to wonder if something was wrong with Gabriel or with me... Either way, I had resigned myself to Monday when I was scheduled for a C-section, a route I didn't want to go, but I was so desperate to see my baby I would've done anything at that point. Literally anything.

On the way home from walking aimlessly, we stopped by CVS and picked up a small thing of Castor Oil, a strong laxative that is supposed to stimulate contractions by messing up your stomach like nothing else. So when I got home I drank some in orange juice (worst.decision.ever.) and nothing happened. After an hour or so, I drank another dose straight (did I mention worst.decision.ever?). Then my stomach was a little upset, but nothing like I had read would happen, so Ben and I went to bed around 10 o'clock tired disappointed. Around 11:30, however, I woke up with the worst stomach cramps I had ever experienced. I quite literally thought I was going to die on the toilet that night. Fast forward half an hour (I'll spare you the gruesome details) and I finally made it back to bed... Only to be awoken with the sensation that I was peeing. But I couldn't stop it.

I jumped out of bed (because who wants a bed covered in amniotic fluid? Not me. Ugh.) and turned on the light and all this fluid came out and I was so excited and yelled at Ben (who, I will never forget, promptly sat up in bed and said, "It's GO TIME!") and and we called mom and my contractions started and they hurt and we were timing them and getting everything ready to go.

Mom, Dad, and Jessica met us at the house and we got in the car around 1 o'clock in the morning and headed down the road to the hospital... What I'll never get over is how quickly it happened. This was the moment we had been building up to for 9 months. We were going to be bringing home a son. Our son. But now, it was hurry up and wait-- and wait we did.

To be continued...

For you, my son...

Dearest Gabriel Riley,

Today is Thanksgiving Day, November 24th, 2011. You are officially 6 days overdue... so I thought I would take these moments when you're not in my arms to write a letter to you.

Son, (it feels so surreal to think that you're my son) on a day where "thanks" is celebrated, I want you to know how thankful I am for you. You have enriched my life so much already... and you're not even here yet! Son, there are many things I want to tell you. That I love you so much already that it's unbelievable. That I can't wait to meet you. That I often imagine what you look like, whether you'll have daddy's eyes and smile or be a wonderful combination of the two of us. I wonder who you're going to be, whether you'll grow up and love reading and learning, like me... or inherit your dad's amazing musical talents.

These are the things I wonder when you're moving around in my stomach. Like you are right now.

As far as my pregnancy with you is concerned, you really gave me an easy time. I didn't get very sick, I didn't have any complications-- being pregnant with you was a complete joy. It's only been these past few days that have been frustrating. Your daddy and I want you to be here so badly it's been hard to see these days pass without seeing you, darling.

As much as your daddy and I love you, you need to know that there are so many people who love you just as much already as well. You have a great, great grandmother (which is unheard of nowadays), two sets of great grandparents and grandparents, an amazing auntie, another aunt, uncle, and two cousins, as well as many, many second cousins and other people who are dying to meet you. Daddy and I have tried everything we can to coax you out, but nothing has worked. So now we're on God's timing and yours, sweet boy.

It's so strange to think that God already knows you and that He already has your whole life planned out. No doubt He has amazing plans for you, little one. Before the beginning of time He knew when you would be born, who you would be, and that you would be ours. That you would be mine. My only prayer is that you always love Him and put Him first in your life. If nothing else I hope for you comes true, if you love God and love people your life will be full and your daddy and I will be incredibly proud of you.

Gabriel, I can't promise that I'll always be the best mom. Honestly, the thought of being a mom scares me to death. Not because of you, sweet one, but because I see so many deficiencies in myself. But I do promise, in spite of my shortcomings, that I will love you unconditionally and, when I make them, (which I'm sure I will) to learn from my mistakes. Your Grandma and Grandpa have been great examples to me, so hopefully I will be able to emulate them in how I raise you.

Sweetheart, I will end this letter with hope, because every good thing ends with hope. I hope you know how much your daddy and I love you. And I hope to see you soon.

All my love,
Mama.