An Answer for the Guilt of Motherhood

March 28, 2016March 28, 2016 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 1 Comment

I think most mothers feel some level of guilt every single day. I know that I do. I have heard it said that guilt is just part of the job description. Should it be? Surely God doesn’t intend for us to carry this heavy load. Wouldn’t we be much better mothers if we were free from guilt?

But I have so many opportunities to feel remorse!

When my third grader can’t read. (I am a horrible homeschool teacher!)

When my baby wakes up and I can’t calm him. (Surely I should understand a baby’s needs by this time!)

When I yell at my eight year old and he hides in the linen closet and cries. (I am so mean.)

When my teenager yells at ME for outlawing the indiscriminate consumption of sugar. (I am so unreasonable and extreme.)

When my oldest daughter is stressed out because of the amount of house work she has to do. (I should be doing more of the work myself.)

When my special needs girl is crying because I am forcing her to do therapy (what kind of monster am I?)

When my two year old screams so the entire grocery store can hear. (I have failed at disciplining him and instilling a sweet and joyful personality.)

I have realized that all moms have times like these. So if we are all universally dealing with the guilt of our motherhood failures, THERE MUST BE AN ANSWER!!!!

Let me take you on a journey of extreme guilt and perhaps you will recognize your own journey. I have a daughter who was born after a more difficult birth requiring Pitocin. I wrote all about it in my article, “Birth Story, Part 3.” She looked perfect and beautiful to me, but the hospital staff was convinced that there was something wrong with her. She had unusual facial features and two toes on each foot were partially webbed. They continued to “find” more and more abnormalities in her internal organs that could have had serious consequences. Yet in just two days, she went home with me; a healthy, happy and totally normal baby!

Or so I thought…until I received a call when Ashlyn was 6 weeks old. The chromosome analyses revealed that she was missing a piece of her 6^th chromosome. No one had ever heard of such a thing and no one knew what this might mean.

Chris and I were convinced that our daughter would be just fine. She could grow up without physical or mental handicaps because God would show us exactly what to do. I read and researched and read and researched some more. Other children like her had been able to maintain higher than average intelligence when put on an intensive therapy program developed by the Institute for the Achievement of Human Potential. I opted to enroll Ashlyn in a similar program at the Family Hope Center.

It required taking Ashlyn to the center every six months for an evaluation and to learn the home treatment plan. Each trip would cost $5,000. We weren’t able to take her until she was three or four years old. I felt terrible about losing those valuable first years, even though I tried to institute the therapies at home that I had taught myself by reading their books. We were able to raise and save the money to go to the Family Hope Center a total of three times in the 12 years of her life. Each time the Family Hope Center infused me with great ideas and many wonderful therapies.

But there was a problem. How could I possibly accomplish 6 hours of therapy with Ashlyn each day? I found it a struggle to devote even two hours to her with all the needs of my other children, the house, and my husband. Many times Ashlyn would be very uncooperative or sick, and we got nothing accomplished at all. I watched the years pass by and her developmental delays became more and more pronounced. The gap between her actual age and her neurological age grew wider and wider.

I took some comfort in the fact that all the crawling around on the floor she was doing was organizing her brain, and that someday she would eventually walk. When that day came, her intelligence would be much higher because of the abundance of cross pattern crawling she had done.

What I didn’t know was that she was developing a progressive club foot deformity. Perhaps it was because of her chromosomes, perhaps it was because of the lack of weight bearing on her feet, perhaps it was because of the poor position of her legs and feet while crawling. Her large shoes created a crawling form never taken by a normal baby. The handicap crept up on me and all of her healthcare providers until…her muscles and bones formed abnormally.

She became unable to stand up or walk normally and may never be able to.

I felt like this, along with all of her other physical and emotional issues, were my fault. Whenever I looked at her twisted and painful feet, I would feel deep sorrow and crushing guilt. God had given her to me, and surely he had given me the tools to help her, but I had failed. Failed not just in a little thing but in something that will greatly impact the quality of her life…her entire life.

Everyone who saw Ashlyn would always comment on how well she was doing, how much progress she was making, and what an amazing job I was doing.

But I never believed them.

Chris was always saying that Ashlyn WAS doing so well because of all the time I spent with her and all the good things I have done with her. Without my intervention, he said, she would still be lying like a blob on the floor.

But I never believed him.

I continued to blame myself for her every deficiency. Therapy was a chore, and Ashlyn was very often unhappy. How happy could you be when the sight of you reminded your mother of her guilt?

OK, this is an extreme case of guilt, but I am sure all of you mothers (and fathers) out there can relate to some degree. Does my guilt sound reasonable and rational to you? Have I been a horrible mother? Does God want me to carry this burden?

Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!

And he doesn’t want you to carry it either!

So let’s clear up a few things, mothers and fathers out there. I am going to tell you some truth, and I want to open up your ears and hearts and BELIEVE ME!

When something goes wrong…it is not your fault!

When your child is not perfect…it is not your fault!

When the world around you is not perfect…it is not your fault!

When you are not perfect…well, that may be your fault, but it is ok!

God, in his infinite wisdom, knew that you would not be perfect, yet he gave you that child anyway. He knew that you were the very best parent for that child.

You cannot save your child from their sin, their bad habits, or their circumstances.

You cannot heal your child; not their bodies or their souls or their spirits.

You cannot mold them and shape them into the person you think they should be.

ONLY GOD CAN DO THAT!

Sometimes God does those things THROUGH you in his time and his way and you may be totally unaware that he is doing it. The closer we are to God, the more our minds are filled with his wisdom, the more attuned we are to his voice, the more he can flow through us to our children.

The vague feeling of failure that most of us moms carry around is not from God! The thought that if we were better parents our children wouldn’t be so….whatever it is that they are…doesn’t come from God. It comes from the Enemy of our souls. He knows that we are the perfect parent for our child and that God is using us in amazing ways. He wants to make us ineffective in this most important calling.

It is true that sometimes we do things wrong and we need to ask forgiveness from God and our children. If we are listening to the Holy Spirit, he will show us when these times occur. He will convict us in a very specific way and give us hope that there is forgiveness and healing through him.

Here is an example:

Condemnation from the Enemy: If you were smarter, more organized, and more loving, your daughter would have walked years ago.

Conviction from the Holy Spirit: When Ashlyn was crying during her walking therapy today, you continued to push her. You should have slowed down, looked her in the eyes, and talked to her gently. You could have showed her that you saw and acknowledged her pain. You could have investigated the specific location of her pain and asked me for wisdom as to whether she was just whining out of childish self-pity, or whether she had a real injury.

Condemnation must be answered with the truth. Conviction must be answered with saying you are sorry and changing your behavior.

What is the truth? You can find it in the pages of your Bible. You can find it in the eyes of your Savior. You can find it in the voice of your Father. In his presence there is fullness of joy. Joy because in his presence he tells you how beloved you are. He shows you how in control he is, and how your little mistakes can’t derail his plan. I have found that conviction is a rather small part of what the Father does. The large part is lavishing his praises and love and encouragement on us! Being in his presence makes me a much better mother than guilt and self-criticism ever did. I wrote about how I try to get into his presence during a hectic mommy day in my article, “Grumpy Mommy Morning.”

Have you ever had this experience in worship? Your heart is bursting with love for God. Your gratitude is so deep that you can’t express it in words. You have so many things to thank God for that you are glad you have an eternity, because that is how long it will take! You wish you could do something worthy of your wonderful God; singing, dancing, painting a beautiful picture, writing a 300 page masterpiece…yet all you can do is just stand there and let the overwhelming joy wash over you. Wouldn’t it be awesome to feel that way all the time? To mother our children out of that kind of joy? Someday, maybe we will.

Have you ever thought that maybe God feels that way about you? That being with you brings him overflowing joy that will last forever. That he is so thankful for you and your life!

Blows your mind!!! That’s what happens when you start listening to God’s voice. He blows your mind with a new perspective that sends the guilt and shame packing.

Once I was sitting on my sofa, miserable with morning sickness and feeling like an awful mom. God broke into my despair and said to me, “Thank you! Thank you for being available to carry this child. Without you, I couldn’t have brought this child of destiny into the world.”

THAT is the truth.

You may feel very imperfect. You may be sure that you are messing up your sweet innocent child, and that they will need inner healing as a result of your poor parenting techniques. But without you, they would never have been born. They would have never had the chance to experience life, love, laughter, and sorrow. They would never get to see the sights of this earth or heard the sounds. They would never have gotten the chance to choose right from wrong. They would never have the opportunity to try and fail and try again. They would have never had the opportunity to be messed up and then healed!

So thank you mom! Let me say a big “thank you” to you from God, your child, and the world! Thank you for giving your child life. Thank you for doing your best. Your best is a wondrous reality full of deeply textured experiences. It is not all sunshine and roses, but even the chance to experience sadness and suffering is a gift. Thank you mom for that gift.

Did you know that God uses motherhood as a picture of abundant prosperity? Is 66:10-12 compares the prosperity of Jerusalem to nursing and being satisfied at a mother’s breast and drinking deeply in her overflowing abundance. Then verses 12-13 says, “I will extend prosperity to her like a river, and the wealth of the nations like an overflowing stream; and you will nurse and be carried on her arm, and dandled on her knees. As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you.”

God compares himself to a mother! God is going to comfort us like a mother! Ahhhh, what a wonderful, peaceful image that is. Mothers – God is using you to show himself to your children. Your nursing and cuddling and soothing is revealing to your child what God is like. You may not do it 100% perfect all the time, but there you are, doing it and giving your child a frame of reference for the love of God!

This world is not perfect. You may think you are doing a very poor job of protecting your child from the toxins in our food, the poisons on TV, and the bullies at school. Let me remind you that this world is not our home. It is a hostile warzone, full of danger. It is hard to see the warzone because it is disguised by the white picket fences and flower boxes of suburbia, but it is a warzone, nonetheless. We are living here as missionaries, trying to show the love of God to those who will violently oppose us even as we love them. We were created for a place much more beautiful and holy and perfect than this. But we are here because God has a wondrous plan. To raise children in the muddy trenches of this harsh environment is difficult.

No, it is downright COUREGEOUS!

Mother, you are a mighty and strong warrior! If you and your family are splattered with grime, fight bravely on! Your Champion has already won this war, and soon his victory will be evident to all. He is able to keep your children safe.

All of these pictures were taken on a trip to the Family Hope Center we took with Ashlyn in 2010. Here is an old cemetery seeming to encroach into the sacred boundary of a park for children. Yet joy and sorrow, life and death dwell together in surreal beauty. Joy that Ashlyn is alive and healthy. Sorrow because of the realization that all my best efforts cannot heal her.

And in the midst of this war zone, God gives us a little piece of heaven, our own paradise… if we can learn to abide in him and open our eyes to the beauty in the brokenness.

A few months ago I was talking with a woman whose sister was a teacher for 35 years. She taught at an institution for severely handicapped and damaged children. She told me that most of the children had been abandoned by their parents. She would prepare classes for the children, because they were eligible for free education until the age of 21. She would stand at the front of the class room and teach letters, numbers, days of the week, etc. to a room full of wheelchair bound children who couldn’t talk. Some would never interact or show any evidence of learning anything at all. She would try to organize fun activities and field trips for them since they rarely had visitors. She would put on a parent’s nights to highlight what their children had been learning and usually, no parent came.

I marveled at the love and special grace this woman had to continually pour into these children and young adults with very little encouraging results. It took me months of pondering this before I realized…this could have been Ashlyn. If she had never had me as her mother or Chris as her father, if she had been taken care of by a collection of paid state workers, what would she be like right now? Was Chris right in saying what he had said many times before?

“Without all that you have done for her, Anne, she would still be laying like a blob on the floor.”

Ashlyn is a unique treasure that God has given me. And I am a gift to her; a loving mother who shows her how much God loves her.

A new perspective sure does a lot. In fact, that is the answer to the guilt of motherhood. Get your eyes off of yourself and onto Jesus.

Why don’t you put on some worship music like David Leach Worship or Bethel Music and seek God for his perspective on your mothering career. Let that guilt just walk out the door!

Special note to mothers who may have legitimate guilt over huge mistake that you have made in the past. You may have killed your child, mistreated him badly, or abandoned him. These are serious offenses, but not unforgivable. Most of the major players in the Bible had grievous sins and were very bad parents! Yet God forgave them and loved them and used them to bring untold numbers of people to himself. Guilt is God’s mercy to bring you to him. Seek God for that kind of forgiveness and transformation in your life. Once you lay your guilt down at the cross, don’t ever let the Devil convince to pick it up again. Jesus signed his name to your sin and died as the punishment for it. It is finished! You are loved and you have a future full of hope.

I Found the Words of God on a Coffee Sleeve

December 18, 2015December 18, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

I had just written the rough draft of my last article about the passing of my neighbor, Sandy. I had a heavy heart, feeling that I had failed God and failed Sandy. Writing the article had evoked deep emotions in me, and I was still trying to sort them all out. It was a dark Wednesday night, and I was attending a meeting for those helping with the annual Women’s Breakfast at my church.

The women’s ministry at Life Center is always planning lovely events. The goal is that every woman who attends would experience a special touch from God and hear his voice personally. Each time there is a creative way to give a personalized, encouraging word to every woman. There have been ribbons, medals, bracelets, necklaces, compasses, mugs, purses, and book marks given out. The item contains some sort of message (such as a scripture verse, a single word, or phrase) and has been prayed over. Every one of the gifts that I have received over the years has been special to me. The scripture that I received at the Women’s Conference last March sustained my faith through the events of the past year.

At the meeting, each of us got to pick a coffee sleeve with something special written on it. I randomly picked a sleeve that had “Matthew 10:42” nicely hand written in black pen. I looked up the scripture on my phone and it read:

“And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward.”

I thought, “Oh that is nice. I certainly give out lots of cups of water to my children.”

But then a new thought broke into my own, with a brilliance that I have come to recognize as the Holy Spirit.

It was a thought of Sandy and the times I brought her soup. God was telling me that I would have a reward for the small acts of kindness I had done for her! I felt so humbled and in awe of a God that would reward me even though I had fallen short of my goal of introducing Sandy to Jesus.

What a good and generous God I have!!!!

The next day I got into my van to drive to the grocery store. I turned on the New Testament CD that was already in the CD player. And guess where the CD started that day?

Matthew 10:42

That Saturday was the day of the Women’s Breakfast. I arrived early to welcome women to the table I was hosting. I was praying that everyone would feel loved and blessed. I encouraged each woman to pick a coffee sleeve when they went to get their coffee or hot cocoa. I had the opportunity to pick a second one for myself. When I read the words, again I wanted to cry! My heart was so full of the goodness of God.

“Writing a New Chapter”

I love to write and have been working on this blog for a year and a half now. I would love to write a book someday…lots of books in fact! But I tell myself that it doesn’t matter if anyone else notices or even likes my writing. I am doing it for myself and my children, so we never forget the marvelous things God has done for us. Sometimes I feel rather silly, spending so much time writing down the little details of my life. Yet I feel the words are like fire in my bones that won’t let me go until I write them down.

Here God was telling me that the writing was from him! And that I would be writing about a new chapter. Our lives could sure use a new beginning!

This “word from God” was confirmed a few weeks later in a most unusual way. Each year I choose a foreign country to study at Christmas time. When all of my children were homeschooled, we would take a break from the normal school and learn about this country. Then we would incorporate the Christmas traditions and food of this country into our own holiday celebration. We have studied Sweden, Germany, Russia, Spain, and Italy. Each year, one of the resources we used was the World Book series on Christmas around the World. The books always contained interesting facts but were very dry reading.

This year, even though I am only homeschooling my special needs daughter, I chose Ireland. I just love to learn about other countries so much, I couldn’t give up the tradition. As I read the first few pages of the World Book called Christmas on the Emerald Isle, I was struck by the emotion and passion in the writing.

“On Christmas night, there is another custom – the telling of stories. The oldest member of the family gathers everyone around the hearth or table and recounts the story of Mary and Joseph. The tales, of course, don’t stop at Bethlehem. There are yarns about the family, about the famine, about the great heroes and villains of Irish history…While the Swedes have 25 versions of the Cinderella story, the Irish have 311 and are still counting. Christmas night is not, or course, the only appropriate time for storytelling. Any occasion will do, and the Irish have a story for any and every occasion, for every event of life…By extracting the meaning from every event of life and turning that understanding into a parable, the Irish preserved their culture and taught their children a sense of history, justice, and identity.”

My heart burned within me as I read these words. That is what I wanted to do! I felt that God was saying that my passion to write was there for a reason…because he had put it there.

It went on to say, “If life was short and bitter, the memory of that life was not. Filled with victory and joy, the memory became a living thread that passed through the consciousness of generations of Irish men and women. As long as the stories survived, the lives and events that inspired them survived and had meaning.”

I must have a bit of the Irish in me… and in the midst of trouble and sorrow, the goodness of God keeps overwhelming me…and giving me stories that I just have to tell!

A Grumpy Mommy Morning

November 20, 2015November 20, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

We have all had them. Grumpy mornings when we wish we were still under the covers. Grumpy mornings when everything seems to be going wrong.

I used to have grumpy mornings on a regular basis, when I was rudely awakened way too early with the knowledge that I had a very long day of caring for little people ahead of me.

In recent years, however, I felt more confident, more capable. With the help of my older children, I was able to face each morning with a level head and even some joy. I became too confident and let my two most helpful children (Areli and Cadin) volunteer to help with Kidz Kamp at our church. They were gone early in the morning, my husband was at work, and that left me…alone…with a three month baby, a loud and demanding two year old, a special needs girl who acts like a quirky three year old, three wild and crazy boys, and a teenager asleep in his bed. This teenager who used to be an early riser and the instigator of most of my grumpy mommy mornings, now seemed to be able to sleep indefinitely.

I tried to take care of the needs of the younger children while enlisting the wild boys to help me prepare breakfast. The younger children were all uncooperative and whiney, and the wild boys were…wild! They seemed to ignore all that I said to them. Instead of helping, they were tearing around the house creating messes and conflicts.

Before I knew it, I was in the midst of a Grumpy Mommy morning unlike I had experienced in years! I ended up yelling and fuming, ranting and raving. I didn’t understand why my children didn’t understand…I was doing all of this for them. The diapering and nursing and dressing and cleaning and cooking! All of this effort was for them! Why couldn’t they help me just a little bit?

Later in the day I had the peace and quiet to think. Why did I have such a horrible morning? Was it really my children? Were they really so awful?

Or was it my attitude? If I was really doing everything I did to serve them, why was I so angry with them?

I realized that the work I was doing and getting stressed out about was not really for them. They didn’t really care if their faces were clean or that their clothes matched or that they had a super healthy breakfast. I was doing all of those things to make myself feel better. I was doing everything I thought a good mother should do, trying to get it all done so that I could feel accomplished and satisfied with my mothering. Then I could get on to the things that I really wanted to do.

I was angry because their childish behavior was interfering with MY plans. They were messing up MY schedule. I hadn’t thought about the emotions or thoughts of each child that morning. Maybe one child had woken up with a scary dream. Maybe another child was so excited about Kidz Kamp that he couldn’t calm down. Maybe the other child was so nervous about Kidz Kamp that he was trying to forget his worries. Perhaps another child was feeling overlooked and was just trying to get my attention. I hadn’t even considered what was going on in their hearts.

I stopped to contemplate what each one of them might want most in the morning upon waking. I concluded that their deepest heart’s desire, even if they couldn’t articulate it, would be to have a mommy who would greet them with joy. A mommy who would listen and not just give orders. A mommy who speaks kind words instead of yelling.

How could I possibly be that kind of mommy? How could I even begin to meet each child’s unexpressed needs each morning?

All I could come up with was the fact that I definitely could not. Only if I was abiding in Christ and had His love and thoughts towards my children could I be that kind of mommy.

How could abide in Christ when I got woken up before I could have a quiet time? How could my mind be full of His thoughts when I couldn’t crack my Bible to read a single scripture? How could I have His love for my children when I hadn’t even stopped to notice His love for me?

This has become the question that I MUST HAVE an answer to.

“LORD, just how do I seek you in the midst of this life that you have given me?”

I am not totally sure how to get time by myself on a daily basis. I am not sure how to meet with other Christians and get to church meetings more often for encouragement. But here is what I have come up with so far.

Whenever grumpy thoughts start to invade my mind, I make a huge effort to replace them with a thankful thought and find something to praise God for.

I write scriptures on notecards and post them on my bathroom mirror. Whenever I see them, I read them and memorize them. As I read them, I feel hope returning to my soul. I try to meditate on them throughout the day.

I recite memorized scriptures while I am nursing. I used to be able to read the Bible or other encouraging books while I nursed but now Annalise nurses too fast and is too active for that. As I speak the truth out loud, I feel my heart taking courage.

I listen for His voice in the midst of the noise. Sometimes I hear it in the voice of my six year old. Sometimes I hear it in my baby’s cries.

Instead of begging Him to help me through this crazy day, I THANK Him for the help He most certainly IS giving me and WILL give me.

I listen to worship music while I am preparing meals and sing along. I am caught up in His goodness as I chop vegetables. I smile when my children tell me that I should have been a singer, and I try to be loving when they interrupt me for some silly reason.

I listen to the Bible on CD while I am driving. It transforms the time I spend running errands into an encounter with truth and love. I have noticed things about Jesus and the Bible I have never noticed before. I have cried and repented and praised Him for His mercy while running to the grocery store.

When I get the chance, usually on a Saturday or Sunday morning, I write down what He has been speaking to me throughout the week. Then I read my journal over and over again while I eat breakfast the next week. I am reminded of the earth-shaking revelations that have so easily slipped my mind.

I fall asleep recounting all the good things God did for me throughout the day. I surrender all that I am, and all that I am not. I rest in the arms of Jesus until some little person needs me.

Being a good mom is not made up of things that I do or the schedule that I keep, but who I am. Only an active, growing relationship with Jesus will make me like Him and banish the Grumpy Mommy Mornings. So let us all seek Him, no matter what.

How Does God Define Success?

November 2, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

One day I was driving home from church and passed a big, shiny, brand new pick-up truck. It was a beauty…and it was grey. Oh, did I mention that it was really shiny with lots of chrome and cool lights. Did I tell you that it was impressive like the trucks on the commercials that are driving haphazardly through large mud puddles and hauling tons of important, manly looking items? That is about all of the technical details I can recall about this truck. If my husband had seen it, he could tell you the make, the model, the year and several important facts about it. Then he would say with a frustrated but wistful longing, “I would love to have a truck like that!”

I would love for my husband to be able to have a truck like that! He has owned at least 4 different pick-up trucks, all of them used. All of them needed a lot of repairs and were more trouble than what they were worth, in my opinion. But Chris does do a lot of hauling and hard work, and loves pick-up trucks. As I passed this particular grey truck, I wondered to myself, “What would it feel like to be able to own a truck like that? What would it feel like to be successful enough to turn Chris’ dream into a reality?”

God used that grey truck to shine a light on the inner workings of my heart. I realized that my definition of success was this: having enough money to buy an expensive new truck. Then I thought about my vision for our future, a future where Chris and I had been successful. I saw our family living in our dream house we had found on the internet. The one that has seven bedrooms, six bathrooms and ten acres. We were able to pay all our bills on time. We were able to buy a new camper. We were able to take time off from work to use that great new camper on vacations with all the children. We had enough space and time and money to open our home to missionaries needing some R &R, and maybe we even developed a ministry to special needs children on our lovely property.

In my vision, our future was so beautiful and we were so prosperous…and comfortable. My idea of success is the American dream: to work hard to earn a good life and then be able to enjoy that good life. Dictionary.reference.com defines the American dream as: a life of personal happiness and material comfort as traditionally sought by individuals in the U.S.

Exactly! That is what I wanted! Isn’t that what we all want?

But is that what God wants for us? Is that His best for us? What is God’s definition of success?

Jesus said that we should seek his kingdom first. Isn’t his kingdom all about…well, HIM?? Isn’t it all about knowing Jesus and having relationship with him and becoming like him? Anything that distracts us from knowing him is no success at all.

I realized that my definition of success was infinitely too small. A shiny grey truck could make me happy when the most beautiful, powerful, captivating treasure was waiting in the wings…waiting to be sought out, to be discovered, to be experienced, and to be loved. And that treasure was waiting to show me his love, to blow apart my mindsets and wreck my American dream if necessary to bring me to himself.

“You will not measure true spiritual fruit rightly while you are in the earth. You can only measure your true success by how much more clearly you are able to behold the LORD, by how much better you know His Voice, and by how much more you love the brethren.

“You must not try to judge by the fruit that you see on earth, but do what you must because it is right.

“Even so, more that bearing fruit, your call must be to know the LORD. If you seek Him you will always find Him. He is always near to those who draw near. ..There is no higher purpose. Your victory will be measured by your seeking. You will always be as close to Him as you want to be. Your victory in life will be according to your desire for him” – The Call

A new idea of success was forming in my mind. To know Jesus more each day. To look into his eyes every moment and see his great love for me. To live in that love. To be able to see the face of God clearly enough to make out when he is smiling. To desire to make him smile with my every thought and word and deed. What joy and peace that would bring to any circumstance of life that I might find myself in.

That, my friends, is true success!

Breaking Through to Prosperity

September 29, 2015November 18, 2016 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” Isaiah 43:2

I had always found great comfort in this verse during times of trial, knowing that no matter how hard my life got, God would not let the troubles overwhelm me. Most of these trials have had to do with finances. How many times can you drive around the same block of “not enough in my bank account” before you realize that you are in the wrong neighborhood and hightail it out of there? Seemed to me that we had tried a million different paths to a million different locations and always ended up in the same place – that run down, ugly part of town called “Lack”

otherwise known as “Hope Deferred”

or “Too many Big Dreams and Not Enough Money.”

I was praying again for some insight on how to conduct our lives in a way that would lead us to that abundant peace and prosperity that the Bible is always talking about. Again God gave me Isaiah 43. But this time I understood it in a very different way.

Perhaps the most dangerous and powerful rivers in this life were not hardships as I had supposed. Perhaps success, wealth, and the praises of man were far more perilous. Perhaps the fiercest flames were not that of failure and rejection but that of acceptance and comfort.

My husband, Chris, loves music and had gotten in the habit of watching the TV show “Behind the Music.” I don’t know very many popular bands, but I could predict the basic story line of almost every show. A few guys had some talent and big dreams to become rich and famous. They achieved their dream after varying degrees of time and effort. They were worshiped by fans. They had enough money to make every desire and whim become a reality. They had everything they ever wanted…and it just wasn’t enough. They would spiral out of control with excess; drinking, women, and drugs. Many of them ruined their families and careers. Some even lost their lives. The blessed few humbled themselves and got their lives back on track.

What I learned is that quick and easy success is no blessing! The adoration of fans is no blessing! Abundant wealth is no blessing…if you do not have the character to handle it…it will destroy you.

If all our dreams came true tomorrow, I wouldn’t become a drug addict. Chris wouldn’t become a womanizer. Yet we could become prideful without even realizing it. We could rejoice in our own wisdom and power. We might be tempted to lead others to our most excellent way rather than point them to THE WAY. We might become too comfortable to seek His kingdom first.

I began to read Isiah 43 in a new light. Chris and I had learned so much through our 19 years of marriage. How to better budget our money. How to work as a team. How to pray and trust God more. How to leave behind generational curses. We had made so much progress, yet we still did not see the prosperity that God had promised us.

Then I heard His still, small voice.

“What is left is for you to do is to seek me and know me more. Every moment of everyday, take the opportunity to sink your roots deeper into the soil of my love and truth. I am withholding the mighty river of overwhelming blessing simply because you are not yet ready to handle it. Until your roots are firmly anchored in me, it could sweep you away.”

I am so thankful that God is keeping me safe from myself. I am so thankful that his promises mean that someday I will be like Jesus; able to steward great power and responsibility without letting it control me. Being able to humbly accept both abundance and lack and be content. I will be able to follow the advice of Rudyard Kipling.

“If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;

If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same.”

Triumph and Disaster and are powerful forces that could consume all that is good in our lives. Yet if we are already completely consumed by the Lover of Our Souls, those two impostors have no chance at moving us… except deeper into his embrace.

God’s Goodness is Hunting Me Down

September 5, 2015September 5, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment

Most if the time, most of us just want to be happy and comfortable. That is what we look for and strive for and pray for. That is how we define “being blessed.” Comfortable and happy.

Life is very rarely a comfortable and happy affair. When the journey leads us to trial after trial, we begin to wonder what is wrong. Are we on the wrong track? Why isn’t God answering our prayers? Does God really love us as much as he says that he does? Will we ever see our dreams come true?

I love the book, Hind’s Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard. I have read it many times and each time, I relate to it more and more. I find great comfort in realizing that Hannah Hurnard experienced her Christian walk much the same way that I have. Much the same as every Christian, I suspect.

When Much-Afraid started her trek to the High Places, she knew that the journey would be difficult. She had to climb the mountains with her twisted, lame feet. She knew that to ever achieve the Shepard’s goal for her; it would take a bit of the supernatural. But she never guessed what was in store for her.

The Shepard chose two companions to help her since she was lame and very fearful. They never left her side and assisted her every step of the way. They were Sorrow and Suffering. Instead of climbing into the mountains, the path led the three travelers to the Desert, then the Shores of Loneliness, the Precipice of Injury, the Forest of Danger and Tribulation, the Mist, the Valley of Loss, the Floods, and the Grave. By the time Much-Afraid had reached the Grave, she was no longer the same girl who had started at the foot of the mountains. She had suffered much, but she had also spent much time with the good Shepard. She laid herself and her dreams on the alter. She could see that she would never reach the high places, but she was happy to obey her beloved Shepard.

She did not anticipate the glorious resurrection that would occur, healing her lame feet and changing her from Much-Afraid to Grace and Glory! Though it was the Shepard who was her prize, the High Places became hers as well, and it was more glorious than she ever imagined!

I hope I make it to the High Places someday. I hope that all the dreams that I have carried in my heart come to pass, yet I have laid them down to say that God is enough.

I could lose everything and suffer great tragedy, yet there is only one thing that I can never afford to lose…my faith. My faith is my life and my hope. Without my faith in a good Father, I would be dead while I still lived…and then be a dead shell for all eternity. My faith, which is worth more than gold (1 Peter 1:7), is what God in his infinite wisdom is after.

The trials that purify my faith make it feel as though his goodness and mercy are far away. Yet his Goodness and Mercy are always following me! God’s goodness and mercy will follow me all of the days of my life. (Psalm 23:6) Follow means to aggressively pursue, run after, chase. God’s goodness is hunting me down. At times I wish his goodness would leave me alone and let me be comfortable and happy for a little while. It is chasing me like a massive hunting dog; pouncing on me, knocking me down, and licking me all over with messy, wet doggy kisses. I may struggle and mourn and wail. But it is God’s irresistible Goodness that won’t let me go. It will not let me stay the way I am now because God loves me too much.

“Love is beautiful, but it is also terrible – terrible in its determination to allow nothing blemishing or unworthy to remain in the beloved.” –Hinds Feet on High Places

Being comfortable and happy would be great…for a short while. But the purification of my faith is worth so much more. To become like Jesus and to enjoy a closer walk with him is worth any trial it takes to get me there. To know his great love for me is my prize and great reward, and it brings a deep and abiding joy.

“Multiplied” is a great worship song for those of us who are being hunted down by his love!

How to Let Go of the Pain

August 12, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 4 Comments

Usually the weeks and months after I give birth, I am so happy! I love caring for a newborn, nursing, snuggling, and looking into that precious little face. That face contains all of the wonders of the world, and I bask in the glory of it. Even in the midst of sleep deprivation, I feel the bliss of motherhood. This time I experienced something unusual for me. Amazing joy and deep sadness side by side. Sometimes in those rare moments of peace and quiet while nursing Annalise, I would begin to cry. I was so happy about my little girl, yet so sad about how she had to come into the world. The sorrowful thoughts kept coming, even though my life was so good. I had seen many women go through a C-section with strength and grace and never complain. Why was I having such a hard time?

My recovery was much slower than with my natural births. When I returned home from the hospital, I couldn’t walk and hold my baby at the same time. I would sleep any spare moment of the day and night and still feel dog tired. Yet that was not why I was so sad.

During the difficult days of pregnancy, I would envision my lovely birth and the ecstasy that would follow. That birth would make all the suffering worthwhile. Yet this C-section birth had not produced that bliss. In fact, as soon as Annalise was born and whisked away to the recovery room, I was left alone with a hollow feeling that went deep into my heart. To read the whole birth story read, “The Heartbreak and Joy of having a C-section.”

Having to give up my dream of a beautiful, natural homebirth had challenged many things that I had held to be true. It had shaken my faith in what I thought about life, what I thought about God, what I thought about my own body. It had challenged my ability to hear God’s voice. I thought that God had told me that natural, easy labor was my inheritance as his daughter, yet mysteriously I was denied access this time. I couldn’t figure out why. Scriptures God had given me during my pregnancy told me not to fear disaster. To me, having a C-section was a disaster. God didn’t design my body to give birth through an incision in my abdomen. If this thing could happen to me, this disaster that I couldn’t control or predict; what else would God allow to come into my life? What other catastrophic events were on their way? Maybe something could happen to steal the health and life of my precious baby. If I had so misinterpreted God’s voice concerning this birth, how could I ever be sure of hearing him again?

These thoughts are similar to the thoughts that any person has after a trauma, whether it is small or life altering. It occurred to me that this is a small part of what causes post-traumatic stress syndrome. A person lives through events that destroy their assumption that life is good, safe, enjoyable, and fair. They have to come to faith all over again. They have to find their way back into the arms of a loving father. It is a tragedy that once the horrible events are over and they are truly safe, they may never feel safe again.

I have lived through many such traumas. They don’t seem like much compared to what other people have had to endure, but they were earth shattering to me at the time. Each time I had to seek God again for the truth that would set me free and the love that would cast out my fear. Each time God would draw so near to my broken heart and bring healing. I would love to share what he has taught me, using my recent C-section as an example.

Pain demands to be felt. Don’t shove it down or pretend it isn’t real. Don’t deny it because you think you should be strong enough to be happy in all circumstances. Suppressed emotions always surface in one way or another. Feel what you feel. Grieving is an important step to healing. God is close to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Revel in his closeness through your nights of sorrow.

Don’t stay in your pain forever! What caused your pain may be the reality you are living in right now. Seek God for a higher reality, a reality that goes beyond what you can see. A reality that is forever.

My body was scarred and bruised from a surgery I had done everything to avoid. God had not answered my prayers for him to move my placenta out of the way. I felt betrayed. I had offered him my body as a living sacrifice, and I thought he would protect me from this.

I thought about my God, and realized that he could never betray me. It goes against his loving nature. Jesus was betrayed, yet he would never betray. He was scarred and bruised for my sake. He had proven his love for me. He COULD NOT EVER betray me. If he didn’t answer my prayers, it was because he had something better in mind. He would bring good out of this situation, even if I couldn’t see it.

Ask Jesus to show you where he was and what he was doing before, during, and after the traumatic event. Read through your journal entries during that time or look at pictures taken during that time and ask Jesus to speak to you about them.

I read through my journal that I kept during Annalise’s pregnancy. I saw God calming my fears again and again, promising to protect the life of my child. He did that when I had spotting around week 15. He did that when I was having signs of preterm labor around week 34. He did that when the marginal placenta was diagnosed at 38 weeks. My little girl was safe in his hands the entire time. He told me not to FEAR disaster, not that a “disaster” would never happen. He was simply telling me that there was no disaster that I needed to fear because he was with me.

I also had a dream toward the end of the pregnancy. Annalise came out through my belly and she looked up at me with ice blue eyes. She was a serene as could be. This dream turned out to be very accurate. God had been preparing me.

Talk about it with trusted friends. Many times they can see things with a clarity that isn’t clouded by overpowering emotions.

A week after Annalise was born; I was able to attend a birthday dinner for a friend. During the meal, I confided to the ladies that I still felt sad about the C-section. I was sharing about how I love to minister to other pregnant women, to pray for them and give them peace and confidence about labor. Now I wasn’t confident about anything anymore.

One of the women said, “Do you think you have more empathy now for women who have had a C-section?”

I most certainly did! She continued to say, “There are so many women out there who are feeling inadequate about some part of their mothering. Perhaps they couldn’t give birth naturally; perhaps they were unable to nurse. You are able to understand and minister to them.”

“Yes,” another friend chimed in, “God has just extended your authority.”

I had never thought about it that way, but it was really true. There was meaning to my suffering.

Another friend sent me a text before the procedure, because she knew I was very distraught. She said that God was increasing my trust in him. That has been true as well! I trust him more because he brought Annalise and I through beautifully. If a circumstance brings me closer to God, then it was worth it!

Give Jesus the pain and receive his joy in return. He gives us the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. He already carried the weight of all of our pain. Let him carry your pain right now and every day. (If it was another person who caused the pain; forgive, forgive, forgive.)

I kept giving him my sorrow, every time it resurfaced, even if I didn’t totally understand why I was feeling so sad. It became less and less. He already carried the weight of my pain so there was no reason for me to try and carry it. One of my favorite songs remind me to “Turn my eyes Upon Jesus.”

Take care of your body. Your body, soul, and spirit are so interconnected; one affects the other. Eat good food. Take probiotics. Get some exercise.

Once Annalise and I were both able to sleep through the night, it was amazing how much better the whole world looked to me! For help with that, read “How to Help Your Baby Sleep Through the Night.”

Thank God for everything you can think of, every morning, every evening, every day, now and forever. When you realize all he has given you, all he has already done for you; gratitude begins to eclipse the sorrow. Fill your mind with all the good things, and the disappointment doesn’t have room.

When I shared with my friends and family that I was going to have a C-section, I was overwhelmed by all the love and support and prayers I received. I would think of each person and feel so thankful for their love.

My homebirth midwives spent 7 hours at the hospital with me even though they couldn’t attend the birth.

My mother-in-law drove all the way from Florida to help.

My mom was so excited about the new little girl and brought me a rose and blueberries in the hospital.

My other children were amazing and took care of each other at home.

My husband Chris was a hero in the hospital. After the surgery, I felt uglier, weaker, and more pitiful than I ever had before. Yet I never felt more cherished! My husband tenderly helped me to walk, to go to the bathroom, to take a shower. He slept on that horrible hospital chair night after night and never complained about a thing!

Annalise has been one of my easiest, happiest babies. She is worth any pain I had to endure. Now when I see my scar, I don’t think about my disappointment. I think about my little bitty pretty one and I am so THANKFUL that she is here!

Looking back over my life, I can say that the worst of times were always transformed into the best of times because of God’s voice. When I am desperate, God always meets me and shows me his love. He always speaks words that impact me deeply. His words and his close presence during my times of sorrow have changed the way I see the world for the better. They have shaped the person I am today. Even though I still have to walk through hard times, I know that amazing joy is waiting for me on the other side. And I know that the journey is worth it!

Should You Be Afraid to Let Your Baby Sleep on Her Belly?

August 4, 2015August 5, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment

When I was pregnant with my first baby, I read every parenting magazine I could get my hands on. Each one contained an article about SIDS, the silent and mysterious killer of babies. What could be more terrifying to a new mother than a condition that she could neither predict nor understand? What was a concerned parent to do to protect her child? Simple. Place the baby on her back to sleep.

The doctors and nurses in the hospital had me so paranoid about sudden infant death syndrome, that I religiously complied with their back to sleep recommendation. If I couldn’t hear Areli while she slept, I would check on her. The first few times she slept through the night, I would wake up almost in a panic, wondering if she was still alive. When she was a few months old and sleeping in her own room, I would wake up in the middle of the night and worry about whether she was ok. I would slip out of bed to check on her, because if I waited until morning, it might be too late. Finally, after this happened several times, I decided that I was being ridiculous. I could not worry constantly about her safety! I would drive myself insane! I decided to pray a simple prayer instead.

“Please, Holy Spirit, protect my baby. Wake me up and tell me if there is something wrong with her. Make sure I am there if she needs me.”

The Holy Spirit did wake me up one night. It was still and quiet and I found myself in the hallway. I don’t even know why I was there. I became aware of a strange odor and followed it into Areli’s room. Areli, the sweet baby that she was, must have felt sick, quietly vomited in her crib, and then curled up in the only clean spot left. She was fast asleep! I cleaned everything and put her back to bed, so thankful that she didn’t have to stay in that state until morning.

I still put Areli on her back to sleep, but as soon as she learned how to roll over, she would choose to sleep on her belly every time.

When my second baby was born, I also put him on his back to sleep. I was a bit more relaxed, having seen one baby safely to toddlerhood. Cole just was not a good sleeper. He was restless and fitful. Friends of ours returned from a class they had just attended at the Institute for the Achievement of Human Potential in Philadelphia. They shared with us what the Institute thought about the Back to Sleep Campaign. The entire campaign had been based on a fairly small study that they considered to be very flawed (grouping infants who had been crushed under sleeping parents with the belly sleepers). Sure, a baby sleeping in a bed surrounded by blankets and pillows and other people may be in danger of suffocation, but what did that have to do with belly sleeping?

The Institute noted how there is not a single animal that sleeps on its back. Why is that? Because there is no protection and no function. All animals naturally prefer the belly down position and babies are no different. They feel more secure, more comfortable, and what’s more, they develop faster. They build their muscles and achieve their developmental milestones faster. The Institute not only suggested that all babies sleep on their bellies, but that they also spend most of their waking hours that way as well. In fact, if you wanted a physically and intellectually superior child, you could build him a crawling track and allow him to sleep in it (and be awake in it as well) to encourage crawling which stimulates the brain. Babies are able to start belly crawling immediately after birth and should be allowed to do so. We observed this first hand when we put Cadin on the floor to sunbathe when he was just a few days old. We let him sleep there for a few hours and he crawled halfway across the room!

“A floor equals civilization,” they would say. This means that any culture that has floors safe enough to place their babies on, would develop a written language and higher math skills. Cultures that could not allow their babies time on the floor, such as some American Indians and primitive tribes in Africa and South America, stayed more…well…primitive. In these cultures, mom would carry her baby tightly wrapped up on her back because it wasn’t safe or efficient to put them down. This allowed the babies little opportunity to move, roll over, scoot, or crawl. They became brilliant craftsman and hunters but never developed a written language or higher math skills. We need to be careful that we don’t adopt a more modern version of this method of child rearing; restricting our baby’s movements and development using baby slings, baby swings, exer-saucers, and car seats.

To learn more about the amazing programs and results of the Institute, read How to Multiply your Baby’s Intelligence and How to Teach Your Baby to be Physically Superb (or the updated version Fit Baby, Smart Baby, Your Baby). I love these books and have used many of their techniques with most of my babies. The old pictures in the Physically Superb book are Matthew and Carol Newell with their young child. I worked with Matthew and Carol when I took Ashlyn (my special needs daughter) to the Family Hope Center, which they started. By that time their son had graduated from college, and they reported that he had amazing grades, was a Shakespearian actor and a triathlete. I know that this is a bit off topic, but I find brain development to be fascinating.

Once I heard the viewpoint of the Institute, I decided to try it. As soon as I turned Cole on his belly to sleep, he immediately slept better. His sleep was longer and more peaceful. He was also able to get rid of gas by pulling his knees up and let out little baby toots. My fear of belly sleeping was officially gone. Since then, I have laid all of my babies on their bellies to sleep, and they all have been very happy that way. Of course I made sure that there was nothing else in the bed with them and that their sheets were fitted tight around the mattress.

My opinion of the Back to Sleep Campaign is that it is very similar to most of the campaigns launched by the medical community – propaganda based more in emotions (usually fear) that in real science. If you would like to read more in depth about this subject with specific studies, Click here. I was notified of an excellent article that offers real answers to crib death and real prevention that has been 100% effective in preventing crib death in New Zealand; Has the Cause of Crib Death Been Found?

Parents, you do not have to live in fear that SIDS might claim the life of your precious child! Only God knows the plans he has for your child, only God knows the number of his days. Yes, some babies do die unexpectedly, and it is always sad. The number is really very small, only around .06% of all babies. I believe that there is a reason for those deaths; theories include vaccinations, second hand smoke, toxins in the mattress, bacteria, or a toxic overload of many things at once. I do not believe it is caused by a baby sleeping on his belly. I am not saying that you SHOULD put your baby on his belly to sleep. I am simply giving you the FREEDOM to do so if you want to. (I also hope you have the freedom to question what health care professionals and the media tell you.)

So parents everywhere, pray over your little ones. Put their lives into God’s loving hands. Ask him for the wisdom to eliminate dangers and bring peace into your home. And enjoy a good night’s sleep, free from fear!

Adjusting to Life with a Newborn…Again

June 25, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in three months. I know that it is going to be any night now, yet every early morning I am awakened by her sweet snuffles and cries for milk. I feel like I am on the brink of total exhaustion and my brain is mush. I haven’t written much lately because I am not sure whether I can put coherent thoughts together.

I have done this before, eight times! You would think that I would have it down. Yet somehow it is all new, with this new little, bitty, pretty one.

I don’t know much for sure, except that there is nothing like motherhood to reveal your weaknesses. Motherhood is able to bring even the most confident woman to the realization that she knows almost nothing at all. But what a gift that revelation is!

To meet this new person that I have felt wiggling inside of me is pure magic!

Her skin is soft as silk.

Her eyes are big blueberries.

Her lashes are so long and curly, just like a little girl’s lashes should be.

She sleeps a bit more than the boys did, and her cry is softer. She begins to smile and I see that she has dimples around her mouth like I do, and a big dimple in her cheek like Daddy does.

She seems very peaceful, thank you Jesus! But the next week she is awake for hours at a time and doesn’t seem to want to sleep, oh no! By the next week she has settled into a predictable three hour feeding pattern. But the next week after that is totally different! Finally I think I have her figured out; she will sleep until 5am and pretty soon be sleeping the entire night! Yes!! I can get my life back! I can regain my energy, plan my day, exercise, and fit back into my normal clothes again.

But then I find myself sitting in the chair again at 3am, nursing the little bundle in the dark. I am so tired. My eyelids are heavy. So…hard…to…stay…awake. My head sinks to my chest. WAIT! My head snaps back up. My eyes are open. I must…stay…awake! I have fallen asleep in this chair night after night and now my neck has a kink in it and my back is sore. I must feed her quickly and get back into bed! I must be strong!

Little Bitty One is totally unaware of my concern. She nurses lazily and takes almost an hour. I hear the very first bird song at 3:45am. Why are those crazy birds awake so early? The sun won’t be up for hours. How I wish I didn’t know when the first bird starts singing. How I wish I was sound asleep, blissfully unaware of the secret life of birds!

I guess I could be enjoying this quiet time when no one else is awake. I suppose I could spend this time praying. Alright God, here goes. God, please help me to not fall asleep in this chair. Please, please, please let Annalise sleep through the night tomorrow night! I feel like I can’t do this one more night! Please, please, please let her get into a predictable schedule. Then I can start getting up before the rest of the children. I can start to have a quiet time each morning. Then I can start to pursue you more, God.

Suddenly it hits me. God’s grace is for me RIGHT NOW! Not at some point in the future, but right now. It is always RIGHT NOW.

Joseph Garlington shared this definition of grace – “God’s enabling presence that empowers us to accomplish our created purpose.” God’s presence is with me right now, in the middle of the night. His voice is whispering words of love and truth right now to my sleepy brain. He is wooing my worried heart. If I spend every moment thanking Him instead of wishing for something else, I can bring His presence closer. I can cultivate my awareness of Him and accept His power to do what He wants me to do…RIGHT NOW.

And what could possibly be a better time? His power is perfected in weakness, and I am so weak. He says that His grace is sufficient for me in times like these. Not just enough to survive. No, this is an overflowing, abundant grace that is more than enough for me…RIGHT NOW!

Nursing this baby 6 to 8 times a day for an hour each time means I can’t accomplish very much. Trying to figure out how to do my normal grocery shopping and errands and therapy appointments each week in the two hours between each feeding makes my brain hurt. Thinking about having to give up my afternoon nap just to get important things done sends me into a panic! No, I don’t have much time to check off items on my to-do list. But I do have plenty of time to sit and nurse, admire my Pretty One and snuggle.

Time to pray and read and think.

As I think back over my life, I can see some things very clearly. I see that most things I have attempted to accomplish I have done because I felt like I SHOULD. Because I would feel guilty if I didn’t. Because I wouldn’t be as good of a mother as someone else. I did those things out of my own strength, my own ability, my own effort. And I failed at most of them.

I think about Solomon’s words in Ecc 3:14, “Everything God does will endure forever. Nothing can be added to it and nothing taken away from it.”

I think about Jesus’ words in John 15:5, “Apart from me you can do nothing.” Nothing of eternal significance that will endure that is. I have done a lot of things! I have spent a lot of energy and time and have gotten grumpy and stressed out to do a lot of things. But those things WILL NOT ENDURE.

Now that I am in a position where I feel like I can’t get anything done, it dawns on me. That is the point! That is what God is trying to teach me…RIGHT NOW! His grace is sufficient and when I rest in Him, He is accomplishing things through me that are significant beyond my imagination. Like growing this little girl, one feeding at a time.

Someday my life might get easier. Someday I might have it down and be able to coast effortlessly through the day. Maybe. So I must make the most of this season…this wonderful and difficult season. Because this season of weakness is how God is showing me His amazing grace.

RIGHT NOW!

The Heartbreak and Joy of a C-section

June 1, 2015 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 6 Comments

As a young girl, I read that one out of every ten babies in the United States was born by C-section. I remember thinking, “If I have ten children, I will probably have a C-section in my lifetime.” But who really has ten children anyway? So I dismissed it as a very unlikely possibility. Despite the fact that cesareans have become more and more common (one out of every three births), I estimated that my chances were dropping. I was healthy and strong, educated in natural childbirth. I had beautiful, easy deliveries…eight of them! Although theoretically, I knew that anything can happen in this life, and I was not exempt from the risks of childbearing, I never thought it would happen to me.

I was so excited to be pregnant with my ninth child. I became even more excited when I found out that it was a girl! I had longed for a girl for so long, that I had almost given up. I felt the overwhelming joy of a dream come true. Yet along with it came a suffocating fear.

I had never before worried about the life of any my unborn babies. I just loved them, prepared a room for them, and anticipated a future for them. Yet this time I began to wonder if my preparations were in vain. What if I never got to hold my baby girl in my arms? What if I never got to dress her in all the pretty clothes? What if the sweetness and the tenderness of who she was, left my life forever?

I didn’t speak of these thoughts. If I uttered them out loud, they might become more real. Finally one night I tried to explain it to my husband, and I began to cry. Why was I crying? The baby was healthy and moving around in my belly. This had been my easiest pregnancy yet. There was no reason to worry.

“I think you have fear with this baby because she is so connected to the promises of God,” Chris said. At that instant I realized that it was true. We had already named her Annalise Promise which means “Oath of God” and “Graced with God’s Bounty.” Her name was a sign to us that we would be entering a season of promises fulfilled, promises for abundance. We had always prayed for that season. We had been looking for it ever since we had gotten married, straining our eyes across the horizon for any sign that the prosperity might be on its way. We felt deep in our bones that God meant for us to have more than enough of everything we needed, everything our children needed. Yet we hadn’t been able to live in that prosperity, cycling between the highs of great opportunities and the lows of dashed dreams.

Now we were having a girl whose very name meant the Boundless Generosity of God, and I was terrified that I would never be able to keep her or God’s Goodness, that both would slip through my fingers no matter how hard I tried to grasp them.

Of course I realized that God does not work that way. This fear was not from Him, yet He would take it from me, I was sure. I laid my fear at His feet and He gave me hope and joy and promises! He had me read Zephanaiah 3:14-20 over and over again. I could almost hear Him rejoicing over me with happy songs. I could feel Him hold me in his strong arms. I could sit back and watch him fight for me and gain the victory! I did not have to fear disaster! He was holding my little girl in His hands and she was safe!

My other babies were always head down in my womb, settling into a familiar position that I knew so well. But this little girl would not do that no matter how much we talked to her, coaxed her, and prayed for her. She would flip and turn and end up in all sorts of positions.

I was becoming quite nervous about her position as I headed into week 37. Our whole family had been hoping for an Easter baby which was only days away, yet Annalise was still not head down. I would lay in bed at night, tired yet unable to sleep. My belly was so big, I found it hard to breath. I could feel her do flips inside of me.

“I think we need to get another ultrasound to check on your placenta. If it is too low, that may be why the baby is not able to descend.” Mary, my midwife said as I was getting close to 38 weeks.

I had no intention of getting another ultrasound, but the night before Chris had expressed concern about the same issue. I felt peaceful that Annalise was safe and sound in God’s hands, but for Chris’ peace of mind, I agreed to go in and get checked. I prayed that if all was well, I would go into labor before the ultrasound. A peaceful homebirth was my heart’s desire. I would rehearse the wonder and beauty of it in my mind to cheer my weary bones. Yet I also prayed, “Don’t let me give birth at home if you want me in the hospital.”

Labor did not come and I found myself lying on a table in a darkened room. It only took the ultrasound tech a few minutes to see that placenta was covering the cervix.

“I am so sorry!” Mary said, “I know how much you wanted a home birth, but we just can’t deliver you at home. If the placenta is born first, your baby could die. You will need to choose a hospital and I suggest you go in tomorrow. It would be better to get a C-section as soon as possible so you don’t go into labor.”

I was in shock. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Yet, I knew that it was what God wanted. Otherwise He could have easily moved that placenta and brought labor on the week before. When I returned home from the ultrasound, all I could manage to do was cry. Most of my other eight children were around the house playing or doing homework after school. My oldest daughter hugged me and said, “It will be ok, Mama.”

I tried to believe her. I cried and grieved the loss of my perfect homebirth. I had wanted to be close to my other children. I had wanted a fast and easy recovery that would allow me to continue taking care of the needs of the home and homeschooling. I tried to wrap my brain around the fact that I had offered my body to God as a living sacrifice, to carry this child of promise, and He was going allow doctors to cut into me tomorrow.

The next day Chris and I began the work of getting ready to go to the hospital. As soon as Chris’ mom had heard about the situation, she had started driving to Pennsylvania from Florida. She would be able to get to our house by the evening to take care of the other children. How that eased my mind!

I sent a prayer request to all the ladies who had been to my baby shower a few weeks earlier. I also called my mom to explain the situation. She had been hoping to be at the birth, but I told her that I had to get surgery and she probably wouldn’t be able to see the baby until hours afterward. Mom happened to be at the ladies meeting at church. She stopped the meeting right then and there and asked for prayer for me!

A lovely thing began to happen. As I was trying to get ready, rushing around the house, up the stairs and down the stairs again, I started to receive emails and texts and calls from loving friends. They were praying for me and speaking encouraging words and offering help! One dear friend even prayed out loud for Annalise while I turned on the speaker phone so Annalise listen.

I was feeling an overwhelming sadness about having to endure a C-section, but I didn’t want Annalise to feel sad. I didn’t want her to feel like she was being torn from her safe haven too early or experience anguish on the day of her birth. The prayer I heard coming from the other end of my phone brought peace to my body and soul.

“Annalise will be so peaceful. It will be a sign to you.” I heard my friend pray.

Chris and I arrived at the hospital in the early afternoon. Mary was already there. It took hours for the staff to assess me and determine that the placenta was not actually covering the cervix but was dangerously close, only .9 cm away. Studies had shown that 90% of women with a marginal placenta like mine bled during labor and required an emergency C-section to save the life of the baby. Thankfully, I had not yet gone into labor and we could have a planned C-section.

It took several more hours to prep me for the C-section. During this time I felt oddly peaceful. God was in control and it was going to be ok. Finally at 8pm I was taken into the operating room where the anesthesiologist started the spinal.

“No pain. You will feel no pain, only pressure. No pain,” he kept saying over and over again.

I must admit that I didn’t believe him. How could I feel no pain at all during such a major surgery? Yet almost immediately, I started to lose feeling in my lower body. I started feeling woozy. My body felt so heavy. I was so tired, that I could hardly respond to the questions the nurses would ask from time to time. Before I knew it, Chris was next to me.

I heard the voice of a doctor instruct the intern on how to begin. I had never seen the doctor’s face. The intern had introduced himself and explained the entire procedure beforehand. He said he had done at least 50 to 60 C-sections in the past. He was friendly and I liked him a lot. The doctor, however, was gruff and rude to this nice intern, acting like the intern had never done a C-section before.

“NO, not like that! Not like that! Here, let me do it!” I heard from the other side of the blue curtain. I really experienced no pain at all! It was amazing to me. It almost felt like this procedure was happening to someone else. Even the abrasive voice of the doctor and the extreme pressure on my pelvic bone couldn’t bring me out of my medicated haze. But more than that, I felt the peace that surpasses understanding. I knew that God had every detail of this birth planned out for the best.

“She is almost here.” I heard Chris say with joy and excitement. I just couldn’t muster up excitement myself. I felt pushing and then a weight was lifted. I was lighter!

“She is here!” Chris said. Quickly the little bundle was taken to a table just a few yards behind me. I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her. She was crying for all she was worth! A good sound. I wanted to call out to her. I wanted her to know that I was close by, that I was so excited that she was here, but I didn’t have the energy. Someone brought her to me and placed her on my chest. She was little and perfect. I was too numb to hold her, so she was whisked away again, this time out of the operating room. Chris went with her and suddenly I was alone…so alone.

I was lying on the operation table in the middle of the large room. I was vaguely aware of nurses and doctors working to stitch me up. They were talking among themselves, but not acknowledging me. I knew that the bright lights were highlighting my nakedness and my gaping wound.

“My baby is here! She has been born!” I thought to myself. “Yet how could this really be considered her birth? I didn’t give birth. Is today really her birthday? I didn’t push her out. The doctors pulled her out. It didn’t feel like a birth.”

As these thoughts floated around in my clouded mind, sadness descended. Instead of feeling the overwhelming relief and bliss that enveloped me after the birth of my other eight children, I felt a stark and cold loneliness. I wouldn’t allow the weeping to begin. I knew it would overwhelm my consciousness. I didn’t want to meet Annalise in the recovery room with tears.

Soon I was being wheeled to where my baby was. She was placed into my arms and I got my first really good look at her. Her face was tiny and beautiful, and she was looking up at me with open eyes. So serene. So peaceful.

She was a sign to me that everything was going to be ok. I would heal. The sadness would fade. I had suffered loss, but it hadn’t been the disaster I had most feared. My little girl was safe. Safe too were all of God’s promises. Our finances were still in an unstable place. But I was certain that we would see His goodness. I was sure that Annalise would live a life marked by God’s generosity.