There have been a good number of, let's just say it - sudden, changes for me recently. It's been a hard but good season, and while I want to just say "peace out y'all" and log off, I know that would literally be running away from what is going on in my heart, so I figured that the only thing I really knew how to do would be to write about it.
This feels so good.
It's been so long since I've sat down to this blog screen and started typing, started letting my thoughts and my fingers take me down the page and out of my heart and onto a screen and somehow that makes it feel more doable, more real.
I was reading through my past blog posts the other day, and realized over the past year there has been some pretty massive change in my life. Last year at this time, we were excitedly living smack in the middle of the U-District, praying through what it would look like to actually be missionaries there, and praying for doors to open to moving to LA to help with a friend's church plant, or to India to live as missionaries. We wanted to be "all in" so we sold our only car and took the bus or walked everywhere, getting to know the homeless around the area and having dinner with them. (I say this not to boast, but to just give a picture of how different things have been).
Then I got sick. Really sick.
In short, my body couldn't handle the sheer amount of mold that I was being exposed to and went into shut down in some ways. We canceled our idea (which to be so honest was actually what we thought the Lord was calling us to do) to move to Birmingham, AL in August to be a part of The Church at Brook Hills, and begrudgingly bought a car. We hastily moved out of our beloved (but deteriorating) home we were renting, and found an incredibly awesome place to live about 10 minutes from where we were. I got better, and I started Noonday.
Oh, and during the course of that time, we left our church, the most brutally painful and utterly devastating thing that has ever happened to us in our short marriage (but that will be another post later...).
I felt totally alone.
Being so sick that I couldn't even take care of Owen for nearly 4 months left me alone. I mean, I guess it happens when you can't make playdates or coffee dates or anything, the invites just sort of stop because they know you can't make it. But I ached for friends. Leaving our church was like ripping away literally everything and everyone we had built our lives around, and so I wanting community, wanted friendship so badly.
I found it in Noonday.
The second I logged onto the Noonday Ambassador Facebook group, I felt instantly welcomed, instantly a part of this incredible community made up of women around the country who loved social justice, hope, redemption, adoption, and Noonday. I got more "likes" on my posts than I ever dreamed possible, and I felt immediately free to be completely open and honest with any and all of them. I posted about my sinful lust for more sales so that I could be one of "those" top sellers that I wanted to be, but wasn't. I posted about my fear of flying to a conference I couldn't afford to attend, and probably wouldn't. I posted about insane grace from trunk shows hosted by friends that had $42 in sales, but that opened my eyes to how much I adored the women I was meeting and reconnecting with.
I feel like I was on that page all the time. Probably because I was. My sweet husband started pointing this out to me, and I bristled and roared. I was a free woman, thank you. I am a working woman, and I can do what I need to do for my business, thank you. I became even more attached to my phone and laptop, even more so than I have been leading up to Noonday and while I listened to trainings about how to set aside time for Noonday so it wouldn't interfere with family I couldn't get it straight.
Every minute of every day was work for me. I answered customers emails immediately, even on date night. I checked the sample sale page when I saw a notification buzz, even during dinner. I read posts and checked FAQs and randomly scrolled all the time. But I felt empowered. And known. And accepted. And worth something.
I could write a hundred more pages, but there's really no need. I could talk about how amazing it was to meet 300 women who I had only "seen" online before at conference less than two weeks ago. How I was overwhelmed with how many ladies came up to me and said: "you're Ashley Titus!! I wanted to meet you!!" and how I ran out of the dance party the last night sobbing and sat in a bathroom stall with mascara streaming down my face because I had flashbacks to high school and an anxiety attack when I wanted to dance but stood there in extreme fear without knowing what to do next. I could talk about how I came back to Seattle recharged and super excited for the upcoming Spring season and how I talked to my husband non stop about what samples I was going to invest in and why and which ladies I thought would be insanely awesome at hosting a trunk show and how I wanted to know my hostesses better so what I would be changing to love on them instead of "coach" them as I had in the past.
But none of that really matters. What matters is that while Andrew and I were given Owen his bath on Wednesday night he turned to me and asked if I would take the next day as a fast of sorts and seek the Lord before buying samples and new displays.
To say that I bristled would be an understatement. I full on freaked out.
I was harsh and mean and angry and pointedly asked him if he was telling me backhandedly that I should quit. Typical of Andrew (which, anyone who knows him will attest to), he calmly said no, and that he wanted me to do with Noonday and the Spring Line what he wanted me to do with every part of my life - seek the Lord. He reminded me that if I didn't purchase the bundle the moment it was posted, life would still go on and I yelled. I was so pissed that he would be telling me to calm down and pray. How dare he?
Typing this sucks. I know my husband, and I know his heart for me. I know that above all else he wants me to walk with Jesus and submit everything to the Lord who loves me and wants good for me, even when it isn't the good I wanted, or wrote down in my planner. I know that Andrew knew me so well that he could see me sitting in the whirling of my mind and of samples and of launch shows and of Noonday conference "high" and wanted me to take it all to Jesus and have peace and clarity as I walked into the Spring season, so that I could work to His glory, and not burn out through my own strength. I know all this.
But the Lord had to stop me and show me. And oh did He.
As Andrew and I talked about that topic once Owen was asleep, I began to run away from the thought that was becoming bigger and more pronounced in my mind - the thought "I'm not supposed to order a bundle. Because I'm not supposed to continue Noonday". I pushed it down without even speaking it aloud and argued back to myself that I would just order the samples and become better at time management and it would be ok, give me just one more season to make it work, I only have been doing this a few months, how would it be right to stop now? But as the conversation went on, the Lord was sweet in His conviction and clear in His words - stop. Stop.
So I uttered them aloud to the shock of my husband. "I'm not supposed to do Noonday anymore". We sat there and I started sobbing, and while he tried to convince me that I didn't need to make such a big decision that very moment, I can't tell you how specifically it felt as though the Lord was confirming that very idea. I really was supposed to quit.
So I did, and I am.
Even thought it sucks, I have such a peace about it, and know that without a shadow of a doubt, this is where the Lord is calling me. I'm not sure what lays ahead for me, but I do know that when I told Owen mama wouldn't be working anymore he smiled and said "now mama play me!!" and I smiled and said "yes" joyfully. I know I will meal plan more (ok, let's be honest, I'll actually meal plan) which I love doing surprisingly enough and haven't done in months. And I want to blog again. And just be open to wherever the Lord calls me, however that looks.
And the plugging from social media thing? I'm addicted. Plain and simple. If I told you I was addicted to alcohol you'd immediately advise me to stop drinking and going to bars, so that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to stop posting and looking at posts. Social media isn't bad. Just like working for Noonday isn't bad. In fact, they are both things that have a ton of good in and because of them. But for me, being on Facebook and Instagram is a sin. I've always known it, and I've pretended that I didn't because I am so scared of loosing out, of missing out, of being alone. But I want to trust the Lord that even when I feel alone, I won't be. That when I feel like I have to check my phone because I'm slightly bored or slightly anxious, or that's just when the pathways in my brain say I'm supposed to look at my phone, that I can actually not.
I'm not sure when I'll plug back in. But honestly? I hope I either never do. Or at the very least, that when I do again I can do it for the right reasons, and not for numbing out, distracting myself, comparing myself, gossiping, coveting, or sinning. I know it's possible, but right now it's not where I am.
Anyhow, props for whoever is actually still reading this insanely long post :) I am excited to just BE and be present and hopefully not distracted enough that the still quiet voice of the Lord is loud enough to hear clearly. I'm scared but I'm excited. I'm wanting to walk closer with Jesus, what should I fear??
Showing posts with label Andrew. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Andrew. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Monday, May 19, 2014
A Letter To My Son
Dear Owen,
I don't know if you will ever read this letter, or if it will make smallest bit of sense when you do. Either way, I just wanted to get my thoughts down and free them from their prison, from my heart where they have been for weeks now. Nine and a half weeks now, to be exact.
First and foremost my sweet Owen, I love you.
You were the baby that I had prayed for for years. I made some incredibly unwise decisions with my life and my body before I met your Dada and was not positive that I would be able to have any children at all. You are my miracle baby. From the moment I found out that I was pregnant with you, I loved you. From that blurry and tear-filled moment when you first laid in my arms on a cold December afternoon, I praised the Lord for you. There is absolutely nothing you can say or do or be that will change the depth of my love for you Owen. I will always, fully, completely, to the best of my fallen heart's ability, love you.
Right now you are playing with your friends at their house for the afternoon. I'm getting picture updates from Ms. Morgan, so I know that you are sleeping well, and I am quite positive you are enjoying hanging out with your little buddies. God is awesome like that, isn't he? He provides people like Ms. Morgan and the other friends and our families who have brought us meals and taken care of you during these last nine and a half weeks. They have served our little family of three tenderly and sacrificially, and shown us the love of God practically and in more ways than I think they even have realized.
I miss you though Owen.
I miss waking up and snuggling you before you go and eat your Cheerios for breakfast. I miss tucking you in for all of your naps, and being the one to go into your room and get you when you are up from those (sometimes incredibly short...) naps. I miss cleaning the house with you, you following me around each room excitedly as I use our vacuum and Swiffer. I miss you cupping my head in your wee little hands and making me look into your eyes when, in some incredibly intuitive way, you knew I was having an OCD attack and I needed to stop cleaning and just be with you.
My buddy Owen, I miss your excitement as we walked to the park together. Your quick hands trying to grab every single DVD off of the shelves in the children's section of the library next door, and snuggling together with you in my Ergo while we walked to church, or Trader Joe's or to the bus stop.
It's been too long since we have done any of those things my sweet son. Months in fact. My heart grows lonely and, sadly, more downcast with each day I am sitting here on the couch while you are playing with a grandma or a friend. I feel like I have lost out on so many little moments with you.
If I'm honest with you Owen, I am scared that I am going to lose you.
I'm terrified that you will love your grandmas more than me, because they do fun things with you and I just sit here. I'm afraid that you will think I don't want to be on my hands and knees chasing you around the house and playing peek-a-boo, that I am bored of you.
Oh, my sweet Owen, I am not. Oh, my sweet, sweet baby, I am not.
I long to be able to spend the day with just you, like how we used to, but with a lot less of Mama cleaning the house frantically, and a lot more of laying on the grass in the park and giggling together.
You see Owen, Mama's sick. I'm not sure with what, or why, or for how long, but I'm sick. Your Dada and I are trying to figure out why, with my doctors and lots of other people that the Lord has blessed with incredible knowledge about how our bodies should work, and what needs to be done if they aren't working properly. We are praying that we figure something out soon, but right now it seems as if it just has to be a "wait and see" time. During this time, I want you to know that I love you and I miss you. I know we've talked about it many times, but I'm pretty sure you don't know what I mean when I hold you close and explain the situation, and that's okay. I'm praying that Jesus would comfort you when I cannot, and that he will give you joy that surpasses anything that I could give you or do with you.
Owen, I love you.
It's not your fault if Mama starts crying randomly, or if I just sort of stare off into space thinking about things I pray you never need to worry about in your life. You didn't cause any of this, and nothing you do will make me feel worse or better. If I depended on you to make me feel better, it would crush you and let me down brutally all in one fell swoop. No, Mama just needs Jesus right now. Like she always does. I just need Jesus.
I do want to apologize to you though, Owen. I haven't been willing to tell Jesus that I need him as much as I really do lately. Mama has been trying to do this, and fix this, on her own. It doesn't work, in fact, it will never work that way. But your Mama is prideful and stubborn, and rebellious (so don't let me ever tell you I can't believe you did or said so and so, because I'm a sinner just like you) and resting in Jesus has never come easily to me. But somehow I know that he has me, and is leading me beside still waters and restoring my soul right now (Psalm 23:2,3). Yes, even in this pain and loneliness and missing you, and longing for a present that is different than the present I have now. Even now.
So buddy, I know things just aren't the same as they used to be. And it's okay if that makes your heart sad, because it makes Mama's heart sad too. But please, oh my dear, please know that how Mama loves you right now has not lessened, it has only just changed how it's seen on the outside. I am not bored of being your Mama, nor will I ever be. I am not wanting to take a break or let someone else raise you. It's just that right now, Mama needs more help than she ever has before, and we get to let God help our family in some crazy awesome ways right now.
I can't wait to hear about your fun day with your friends. I can't wait to meet you and your Dada at the door in a few hours and give you a big hug and a snuggle and then read you some books before kissing you goodnight. I love you, so, so much Owen.
And Owen, one day, these tears that Mama's shedding, Jesus will wipe them all away. Sometimes you see Dada doing that - tenderly wiping my cheeks as tears stream down them, warm and salty, but one day I won't even cry again at all. It will be amazing.
Heavenly, in fact. Absolutely perfect.
Love you always and forever,
Your Mama
I don't know if you will ever read this letter, or if it will make smallest bit of sense when you do. Either way, I just wanted to get my thoughts down and free them from their prison, from my heart where they have been for weeks now. Nine and a half weeks now, to be exact.
First and foremost my sweet Owen, I love you.
You were the baby that I had prayed for for years. I made some incredibly unwise decisions with my life and my body before I met your Dada and was not positive that I would be able to have any children at all. You are my miracle baby. From the moment I found out that I was pregnant with you, I loved you. From that blurry and tear-filled moment when you first laid in my arms on a cold December afternoon, I praised the Lord for you. There is absolutely nothing you can say or do or be that will change the depth of my love for you Owen. I will always, fully, completely, to the best of my fallen heart's ability, love you.
Right now you are playing with your friends at their house for the afternoon. I'm getting picture updates from Ms. Morgan, so I know that you are sleeping well, and I am quite positive you are enjoying hanging out with your little buddies. God is awesome like that, isn't he? He provides people like Ms. Morgan and the other friends and our families who have brought us meals and taken care of you during these last nine and a half weeks. They have served our little family of three tenderly and sacrificially, and shown us the love of God practically and in more ways than I think they even have realized.
I miss you though Owen.
I miss waking up and snuggling you before you go and eat your Cheerios for breakfast. I miss tucking you in for all of your naps, and being the one to go into your room and get you when you are up from those (sometimes incredibly short...) naps. I miss cleaning the house with you, you following me around each room excitedly as I use our vacuum and Swiffer. I miss you cupping my head in your wee little hands and making me look into your eyes when, in some incredibly intuitive way, you knew I was having an OCD attack and I needed to stop cleaning and just be with you.
My buddy Owen, I miss your excitement as we walked to the park together. Your quick hands trying to grab every single DVD off of the shelves in the children's section of the library next door, and snuggling together with you in my Ergo while we walked to church, or Trader Joe's or to the bus stop.
It's been too long since we have done any of those things my sweet son. Months in fact. My heart grows lonely and, sadly, more downcast with each day I am sitting here on the couch while you are playing with a grandma or a friend. I feel like I have lost out on so many little moments with you.
If I'm honest with you Owen, I am scared that I am going to lose you.
I'm terrified that you will love your grandmas more than me, because they do fun things with you and I just sit here. I'm afraid that you will think I don't want to be on my hands and knees chasing you around the house and playing peek-a-boo, that I am bored of you.
Oh, my sweet Owen, I am not. Oh, my sweet, sweet baby, I am not.
I long to be able to spend the day with just you, like how we used to, but with a lot less of Mama cleaning the house frantically, and a lot more of laying on the grass in the park and giggling together.
You see Owen, Mama's sick. I'm not sure with what, or why, or for how long, but I'm sick. Your Dada and I are trying to figure out why, with my doctors and lots of other people that the Lord has blessed with incredible knowledge about how our bodies should work, and what needs to be done if they aren't working properly. We are praying that we figure something out soon, but right now it seems as if it just has to be a "wait and see" time. During this time, I want you to know that I love you and I miss you. I know we've talked about it many times, but I'm pretty sure you don't know what I mean when I hold you close and explain the situation, and that's okay. I'm praying that Jesus would comfort you when I cannot, and that he will give you joy that surpasses anything that I could give you or do with you.
Owen, I love you.
It's not your fault if Mama starts crying randomly, or if I just sort of stare off into space thinking about things I pray you never need to worry about in your life. You didn't cause any of this, and nothing you do will make me feel worse or better. If I depended on you to make me feel better, it would crush you and let me down brutally all in one fell swoop. No, Mama just needs Jesus right now. Like she always does. I just need Jesus.
I do want to apologize to you though, Owen. I haven't been willing to tell Jesus that I need him as much as I really do lately. Mama has been trying to do this, and fix this, on her own. It doesn't work, in fact, it will never work that way. But your Mama is prideful and stubborn, and rebellious (so don't let me ever tell you I can't believe you did or said so and so, because I'm a sinner just like you) and resting in Jesus has never come easily to me. But somehow I know that he has me, and is leading me beside still waters and restoring my soul right now (Psalm 23:2,3). Yes, even in this pain and loneliness and missing you, and longing for a present that is different than the present I have now. Even now.
So buddy, I know things just aren't the same as they used to be. And it's okay if that makes your heart sad, because it makes Mama's heart sad too. But please, oh my dear, please know that how Mama loves you right now has not lessened, it has only just changed how it's seen on the outside. I am not bored of being your Mama, nor will I ever be. I am not wanting to take a break or let someone else raise you. It's just that right now, Mama needs more help than she ever has before, and we get to let God help our family in some crazy awesome ways right now.
I can't wait to hear about your fun day with your friends. I can't wait to meet you and your Dada at the door in a few hours and give you a big hug and a snuggle and then read you some books before kissing you goodnight. I love you, so, so much Owen.
And Owen, one day, these tears that Mama's shedding, Jesus will wipe them all away. Sometimes you see Dada doing that - tenderly wiping my cheeks as tears stream down them, warm and salty, but one day I won't even cry again at all. It will be amazing.
Heavenly, in fact. Absolutely perfect.
Love you always and forever,
Your Mama
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Be Still My Soul
I think I have been waiting to write another blog post until something changed. Either I was suddenly better, getting gradually better, or had a word to describe what has been my life these past two months (as of tomorrow). None of these three apply to me today, but I guess I need to keep writing about what's on my heart, no matter if it's the same thing over and over again.
I'm finding myself saying more often "I can't wait to get back to a normal life" or some rendition of that sentence. Sitting here this afternoon, I literally cannot even remember how a normal daily routine was for me before all of this. Did I really hang out with Owen the entire day by ourselves? Did we really just randomly walk to the park or the library or to get froyo on the Ave? The thought of doing any of these things is something like how I used to think of Christmas or a vacation; my heart skips a beat at how exciting it would be and I am eager to look at my calendar and see the day circled and to count down until said exciting event.
But what happens when there's no count down? What happens when the event, or in this case, the life you're longing for, may or may not happen next week, or in a month, or in a year? How do you couple the longing for what's possibly ahead with the reality of the right now without living completely in a fantasy world or giving into the pain and spiraling into hopelessness?
I'm not sure.
It's this weird tension that I think more often than not I try to ignore and barrel through. And I have been able to barrel through pretty much each time I've been faced with a tension like this, an 'in between' I guess you could call it, because I've found something else to rest my eyes upon.
Unfortunately, most of these things I've found are reactionary and pointless at best. During pregnancy I researched constantly, filling the 'in between' tension with statistics and cribs and recalls and Thomas the Tank Engine onsies. During the years I longed to be married, I filled the 'in between' time with elaborate fantasies of my Prince Charming and a constant comparison and evaluation of nearly every man I came in contact with.
Today I'm in a new 'in between' time. The time between life as I knew it and life as I long for it to be. It's a time of loneliness, of depression, of darkness, of excitement of the possibility of feeling better and then the crash of over exerting myself. It is also a time of snuggles on the couch with my sweet baby, of top-of-the-head kisses from my best friend as he wheels me around in a wheelchair, of having the time to actually watch a book-crazy 16 month-old giggle his way through a pile of books, and of seeing how people around us embody care and encouragement and hope through their sacrifices and generosity and love and prayers.
But even as all of these things describe this 'in between' time, I can't seem to articulate what's really going on in my heart. That longing, no, desperation for answers and for change. The letdown of doctors appointments that confirm nothing but lead to more questions. The fear of nothing changing and of missing out on my life, my marriage, my son. The fear of this not being an 'in between' time.
The idea that this is actually a new normal petrifies me. But then again, at least I would know something, right? It's the not knowing of the 'in between' time that rattles me the most.
In the hours that I have had these last two months to sit and think, I've tried to set my eyes on so many things to distract me. I've pinned a ridiculous amount of pins to boards I may never even look at again. I've checked Facebook far too much and too often and I've posted way too many pictures of random things (and some adorable ones of Owen...) to Instagram. But I've honestly been so scared to just sit. To acknowledge before myself and, more importantly, before Jesus that I am impatient and anxious and scared and frustrated.
I don't want this anymore though.
I want to actually say how this is affecting my heart. I want to not try to cover up my fear with pins about cross stitching necklaces. I want to honestly tell Jesus what he already knows; that I don't want to pick between blowing bubbles with Owen and a lunch out with my mother-in-law because I just want to be able to do both in one day. I want to say aloud that I don't want to have to explain my symptoms one more time to another specialist, because I want them to be gone already. I want to no longer overthink whether or not I am actually sick as much as I think I am, or Andrew thinks I am, or if I am just overreacting.
I want to set my eyes on something other than distractions. Something other than my fears. Something other than myself.
I want to set my eyes on Jesus.
This doesn't mean this 'in between' season gets perfect and I'm all better and totally upbeat and positive about being sick or not being sick or whatever. It just means that I resist the urge to always be put together, to cry when things hurt, and to be vulnerable enough to admit my fears and frustrations. Honestly, all I actually need to do is rest. Rest in Jesus and his already totally finished work on the cross. Rest in the fact hat he was perfect so I don't have to be. Rest in the fact that he is interceding for me right now as I type. That he is my strength when my emotional and physical strength is completely gone and that he understands even when the people I cancel plans on last minute don't.
I'm not sure how to end this post, nothing seems quite sufficient. I know I posted some of the lyrics to a hymn I've been repeating over and over in my mind and soul lately in the previous post, but it seems apropos to end by including them in their entirety.
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
I'm finding myself saying more often "I can't wait to get back to a normal life" or some rendition of that sentence. Sitting here this afternoon, I literally cannot even remember how a normal daily routine was for me before all of this. Did I really hang out with Owen the entire day by ourselves? Did we really just randomly walk to the park or the library or to get froyo on the Ave? The thought of doing any of these things is something like how I used to think of Christmas or a vacation; my heart skips a beat at how exciting it would be and I am eager to look at my calendar and see the day circled and to count down until said exciting event.
But what happens when there's no count down? What happens when the event, or in this case, the life you're longing for, may or may not happen next week, or in a month, or in a year? How do you couple the longing for what's possibly ahead with the reality of the right now without living completely in a fantasy world or giving into the pain and spiraling into hopelessness?
I'm not sure.
It's this weird tension that I think more often than not I try to ignore and barrel through. And I have been able to barrel through pretty much each time I've been faced with a tension like this, an 'in between' I guess you could call it, because I've found something else to rest my eyes upon.
Unfortunately, most of these things I've found are reactionary and pointless at best. During pregnancy I researched constantly, filling the 'in between' tension with statistics and cribs and recalls and Thomas the Tank Engine onsies. During the years I longed to be married, I filled the 'in between' time with elaborate fantasies of my Prince Charming and a constant comparison and evaluation of nearly every man I came in contact with.
Today I'm in a new 'in between' time. The time between life as I knew it and life as I long for it to be. It's a time of loneliness, of depression, of darkness, of excitement of the possibility of feeling better and then the crash of over exerting myself. It is also a time of snuggles on the couch with my sweet baby, of top-of-the-head kisses from my best friend as he wheels me around in a wheelchair, of having the time to actually watch a book-crazy 16 month-old giggle his way through a pile of books, and of seeing how people around us embody care and encouragement and hope through their sacrifices and generosity and love and prayers.
But even as all of these things describe this 'in between' time, I can't seem to articulate what's really going on in my heart. That longing, no, desperation for answers and for change. The letdown of doctors appointments that confirm nothing but lead to more questions. The fear of nothing changing and of missing out on my life, my marriage, my son. The fear of this not being an 'in between' time.
The idea that this is actually a new normal petrifies me. But then again, at least I would know something, right? It's the not knowing of the 'in between' time that rattles me the most.
In the hours that I have had these last two months to sit and think, I've tried to set my eyes on so many things to distract me. I've pinned a ridiculous amount of pins to boards I may never even look at again. I've checked Facebook far too much and too often and I've posted way too many pictures of random things (and some adorable ones of Owen...) to Instagram. But I've honestly been so scared to just sit. To acknowledge before myself and, more importantly, before Jesus that I am impatient and anxious and scared and frustrated.
I don't want this anymore though.
I want to actually say how this is affecting my heart. I want to not try to cover up my fear with pins about cross stitching necklaces. I want to honestly tell Jesus what he already knows; that I don't want to pick between blowing bubbles with Owen and a lunch out with my mother-in-law because I just want to be able to do both in one day. I want to say aloud that I don't want to have to explain my symptoms one more time to another specialist, because I want them to be gone already. I want to no longer overthink whether or not I am actually sick as much as I think I am, or Andrew thinks I am, or if I am just overreacting.
I want to set my eyes on something other than distractions. Something other than my fears. Something other than myself.
I want to set my eyes on Jesus.
This doesn't mean this 'in between' season gets perfect and I'm all better and totally upbeat and positive about being sick or not being sick or whatever. It just means that I resist the urge to always be put together, to cry when things hurt, and to be vulnerable enough to admit my fears and frustrations. Honestly, all I actually need to do is rest. Rest in Jesus and his already totally finished work on the cross. Rest in the fact hat he was perfect so I don't have to be. Rest in the fact that he is interceding for me right now as I type. That he is my strength when my emotional and physical strength is completely gone and that he understands even when the people I cancel plans on last minute don't.
I'm not sure how to end this post, nothing seems quite sufficient. I know I posted some of the lyrics to a hymn I've been repeating over and over in my mind and soul lately in the previous post, but it seems apropos to end by including them in their entirety.
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.
Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice Who ruled them while He dwelt below.
Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears,
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.
Be still, my soul: thy Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all He takes away.
Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord.
When disappointment, grief and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past
All safe and blessèd we shall meet at last.
Friday, April 25, 2014
More Waiting.
Usually, I like to wait for a day or two after getting an idea for a post before I actually sit down and type it up and write about it. Today though, I am just too tired to think through it that much. The frustration that was surging through my veins this morning has quelled to apathy and my body feels as if I ran a marathon.
As most of you know, this morning I had my first appointment with the neurology department at UW Medicine. I was walking into the appointment with a "POTS, likely" diagnosis from the on-call neurologist in the previous weeks, and a completed Tilt Table test and hoping that a formal diagnosis would be made.
Unfortunately, I am more confused now than I was at 9am this morning.
The good and bad is that my testing last Friday showed near-normal results. I had a drop in blood pressure after several minutes of the standing part of the test, but nothing massive and nothing to suggest my autonomic system is out of whack. They did see that it is working much harder than it should be for a healthy 27 year old though. But, other than that, there wasn't anything conclusive.
So, the "POTS, likely" route was actually a dead end. The neurologist said that he isn't totally ruling it out, but at the moment, he doesn't see evidence that it is something like that - especially with the variety of symptoms I am experiencing.
What does this mean? I'm not really sure to be honest. It means that I underwent another type of testing (an EMG test, which good grief was about the lest fun test I've ever done...) before I left their office and an hour later was told that another issue (myasthenia gravis) was now officially off of the table. Testing results in hand, and a very shaky body wheeled to the car, I am now home waiting for an appointment next week with my primary care physician to discuss next steps.
At first I felt terrible - I weaned Owen without needing to. But, honestly, he is doing totally fine, and 16 months of nursing is more than okay. It's less of a hassle now that I am able to care for him even less than before, and he doesn't even show a hint of wanting to nurse anymore which is awesome.
Throughout all of this, I have struggled intensely with the fear that I am over reacting to whatever this is. That I am faking it. That I am being a drama queen. I was so desperately hoping and praying that I would have a clear diagnosis today that would silence these fears and lies, and that prayer was not answered. Interestingly enough though, I do believe it is God's grace that I do not have a diagnosis right now. As frustrating and long as this process has been, and all signs point to will be in the future, having a definitive diagnosis would have let me rest in that, rather than in God's love and mercy and sovereignty. Yes, I want an answer to all of this pain and exhaustion and debilitating illness. But I want to fully trust the Lord, and be drawn close to him much more than that.
So... now I wait. I make the hard decision to do less and trust that the people who the Lord has provided to care for Owen and our house are in my life for a reason, and that I am where I am supposed to be, even when it isn't where I want to be. I will update more, hopefully in the coming days, as I am less exhausted and more able to think and write through all of this.
Continued prayers and texts and wishes would be amazing. So would meals, if you so feel inclined. A gal from church is setting up a meal registry and I will post that when it's finalized. We are now in the process of looking for a car (we don't have one right now), and that will add more to the already climbing expenses list. We have been absolutely taken aback by the sheer amount of support both personally and financially we have received already, and if you do wish to help us in that way, our GoFundMe site is linked to this blog.
Love you all!
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
As most of you know, this morning I had my first appointment with the neurology department at UW Medicine. I was walking into the appointment with a "POTS, likely" diagnosis from the on-call neurologist in the previous weeks, and a completed Tilt Table test and hoping that a formal diagnosis would be made.
Unfortunately, I am more confused now than I was at 9am this morning.
The good and bad is that my testing last Friday showed near-normal results. I had a drop in blood pressure after several minutes of the standing part of the test, but nothing massive and nothing to suggest my autonomic system is out of whack. They did see that it is working much harder than it should be for a healthy 27 year old though. But, other than that, there wasn't anything conclusive.
So, the "POTS, likely" route was actually a dead end. The neurologist said that he isn't totally ruling it out, but at the moment, he doesn't see evidence that it is something like that - especially with the variety of symptoms I am experiencing.
What does this mean? I'm not really sure to be honest. It means that I underwent another type of testing (an EMG test, which good grief was about the lest fun test I've ever done...) before I left their office and an hour later was told that another issue (myasthenia gravis) was now officially off of the table. Testing results in hand, and a very shaky body wheeled to the car, I am now home waiting for an appointment next week with my primary care physician to discuss next steps.
At first I felt terrible - I weaned Owen without needing to. But, honestly, he is doing totally fine, and 16 months of nursing is more than okay. It's less of a hassle now that I am able to care for him even less than before, and he doesn't even show a hint of wanting to nurse anymore which is awesome.
Throughout all of this, I have struggled intensely with the fear that I am over reacting to whatever this is. That I am faking it. That I am being a drama queen. I was so desperately hoping and praying that I would have a clear diagnosis today that would silence these fears and lies, and that prayer was not answered. Interestingly enough though, I do believe it is God's grace that I do not have a diagnosis right now. As frustrating and long as this process has been, and all signs point to will be in the future, having a definitive diagnosis would have let me rest in that, rather than in God's love and mercy and sovereignty. Yes, I want an answer to all of this pain and exhaustion and debilitating illness. But I want to fully trust the Lord, and be drawn close to him much more than that.
So... now I wait. I make the hard decision to do less and trust that the people who the Lord has provided to care for Owen and our house are in my life for a reason, and that I am where I am supposed to be, even when it isn't where I want to be. I will update more, hopefully in the coming days, as I am less exhausted and more able to think and write through all of this.
Continued prayers and texts and wishes would be amazing. So would meals, if you so feel inclined. A gal from church is setting up a meal registry and I will post that when it's finalized. We are now in the process of looking for a car (we don't have one right now), and that will add more to the already climbing expenses list. We have been absolutely taken aback by the sheer amount of support both personally and financially we have received already, and if you do wish to help us in that way, our GoFundMe site is linked to this blog.
Love you all!
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Friday, April 11, 2014
What's Been Going On...
For starters, please forgive the incompleteness of this blog, but I wanted to make sure that I at least put down into a post some semblance of an update. It's been awhile since I've posted, and am not quite sure if I am ready to get back into a 'rhythm' of posting quite yet, but I do intend to update a bit more than I have been.
Four weeks ago, today actually, I was grabbing Andrew's lunch from the counter and suddenly was overcome with dizziness. I've had bouts of vertigo before, and assumed it was that and called my mom to have her come over and watch Owen since I knew I wouldn't be able to. By the time she got here though, a million other reasons were swirling in my head as to why I could be dizzy, one of which was a hopeful excitement - maybe baby Titus #2 was on the way! I called for a doctor's appointment and was seen later that morning.
I had a pregnancy test done at the doctors and lo and behold... it was negative. It was a long shot, but I was a bit sad - I really wanted this to be something good! Looking back, it was simply God's grace that it was not what I had been hoping for, or at least that it wasn't baby Titus #2 along with the real cause of the dizziness.
In brief overview of the following four weeks, my dizziness continued to become more and more debilitating. My mom and mother-in-law, as well as a couple of friends from church took shifts of watching Owen from the time Andrew left for work until he came home. I was slowly becoming even more exhausted, and even doing simple things like the laundry would wipe me out for the rest of the day. "Just pushing myself a little further" was not an option.
Throughout all of this I have felt certain that I was faking this and being a drama queen. Growing up, I was a complete hypochondriac and faked so many illnesses. No one would believe me, and they had good reason - I lied a lot. That being said, although I knew I was not the same girl as I was in elementary school, the fear of not being taken seriously or over dramatizing the situation plagued me.
What also plagued me was the feeling of being a terrible mama to my sweet baby. I sat on the couch 90% of the day and didn't play with Owen at all. Reading a board book to him winded me, and doing an airplane ride on my legs was nearly impossible. I've always struggled with believing I was a "good enough" mama and as the days progressed the condemnation and guilt piled higher and higher.
Fast forward to Tuesday. After weeks of doctors appointments, Ear Nose and Throat specialist appointments, hearing tests, CT scans and an insane amount of blood work, we don't have any idea what's going on. In God's amazing providence, I met with a gal who I met this year through a Bible study and she asked me about my symptoms. After I listed off a seemingly random assortment of what I had been experiencing she looked at me and said: "Oh girl, I think you have what I have: POTS."
I looked up the symptoms and realized she may actually be right.
Wednesday afternoon, after the two worst days of dizziness and racing heart and exhaustion yet, I called my doctor and she asked me to go to the ER. I hesitated. We just paid off my medical bills from last years trial of Post-Pardum Depression and there is no way we have it in the budget to pay more bills. Andrew gently assured me though, that God had been faithful to provide and would remain faithful. Eventually I agreed to go, and seven hours later the on-call neurologist was sitting at the end of my hospital bed.
"Well, I can't tell you with 100% assurance because we have one more test to confirm it, but my first, second, and third on the list of probabilities is that you have what's called Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. POTS for short."
So there it was.
I hadn't been faking. I wasn't being a drama queen. There was a reason.
I was ill.
Honestly I am not sure how much more I can type out right now, both because I am already completely exhausted from reading Owen two books this morning and singing him a song and typing this, but also emotionally drained and on edge.
There is not a cure for POTS. There are types of POTS that improve and go away over the course of several years. As it stands, the type I have seems to be the kind that doesn't. What does that mean? Aside from the hand of God moving either miraculously or through medical breakthroughs, I will be walking through the rest of my life with POTS. Until I see Jesus face to face in all of his glory, I will never be the same as I was a month and a half ago.
There are medications that will help me continue to function as close to normal as possible though. One problem - I cannot nurse Owen while on them.
So, with heavy pain and an ache I can't even begin to express, yesterday started cold-turkey weaning my sweet, sweet son. Praise Jesus that we had already started weaning gradually over the past couple of months, so instead of 5-8 times a day of nursing he was already down to 2-3 times. But these past 4 weeks have taken a toll on him. God's grace is that he loves playing with tons of people, but nursing was the one semblance of normal for him and I. It was our time to snuggle and to be close when everything else was topsy turvy.
Suffice it to say, I've been a wreck.
Through all of this though, I have no question in my mind that God was and is not shocked at the fact that I most likely have a chronic illness in which my Autonomic Nervous System misfires and functions abnormally.
My sobs of heartache for the confused child at my breast do not fall on deaf ears, but on ears that wept for Jerusalem.
My very slow process of beginning to mourn the idea of what I "should be" as a mama and wife, the idea of having another baby soon, and even going through my day without having someone else care for my child, make my meals, and clean my house is happening as my faithful Savior holds me close and wipes my tears and reminds me I am only defined by the Cross.
I would love prayers. Not only for myself but for my incredible husband who has been through hell and back with me and still loves me as tenderly as he did the day we were married. Also for Owen, that he would know without a shadow of a doubt my love for him, and that my ability to be able to run after him does not indicate my level of desire to be his mama. Also that the doctors would be able to move forward with treatment after my final test is complete.
I know that God is using this to draw me closer to him and I am so grateful for that assurance. I'm not okay with everything though, and I'm not sure I have to be quite yet. I'm not mad at God for allowing this to happen, but am grieved that it is happening. I am hopeful that things will get better, but I ache more for heaven than I ever have before.
I will try to update after I do the final test, but until then,
Sola Dei Gloria
Four weeks ago, today actually, I was grabbing Andrew's lunch from the counter and suddenly was overcome with dizziness. I've had bouts of vertigo before, and assumed it was that and called my mom to have her come over and watch Owen since I knew I wouldn't be able to. By the time she got here though, a million other reasons were swirling in my head as to why I could be dizzy, one of which was a hopeful excitement - maybe baby Titus #2 was on the way! I called for a doctor's appointment and was seen later that morning.
I had a pregnancy test done at the doctors and lo and behold... it was negative. It was a long shot, but I was a bit sad - I really wanted this to be something good! Looking back, it was simply God's grace that it was not what I had been hoping for, or at least that it wasn't baby Titus #2 along with the real cause of the dizziness.
In brief overview of the following four weeks, my dizziness continued to become more and more debilitating. My mom and mother-in-law, as well as a couple of friends from church took shifts of watching Owen from the time Andrew left for work until he came home. I was slowly becoming even more exhausted, and even doing simple things like the laundry would wipe me out for the rest of the day. "Just pushing myself a little further" was not an option.
Throughout all of this I have felt certain that I was faking this and being a drama queen. Growing up, I was a complete hypochondriac and faked so many illnesses. No one would believe me, and they had good reason - I lied a lot. That being said, although I knew I was not the same girl as I was in elementary school, the fear of not being taken seriously or over dramatizing the situation plagued me.
What also plagued me was the feeling of being a terrible mama to my sweet baby. I sat on the couch 90% of the day and didn't play with Owen at all. Reading a board book to him winded me, and doing an airplane ride on my legs was nearly impossible. I've always struggled with believing I was a "good enough" mama and as the days progressed the condemnation and guilt piled higher and higher.
Fast forward to Tuesday. After weeks of doctors appointments, Ear Nose and Throat specialist appointments, hearing tests, CT scans and an insane amount of blood work, we don't have any idea what's going on. In God's amazing providence, I met with a gal who I met this year through a Bible study and she asked me about my symptoms. After I listed off a seemingly random assortment of what I had been experiencing she looked at me and said: "Oh girl, I think you have what I have: POTS."
I looked up the symptoms and realized she may actually be right.
Wednesday afternoon, after the two worst days of dizziness and racing heart and exhaustion yet, I called my doctor and she asked me to go to the ER. I hesitated. We just paid off my medical bills from last years trial of Post-Pardum Depression and there is no way we have it in the budget to pay more bills. Andrew gently assured me though, that God had been faithful to provide and would remain faithful. Eventually I agreed to go, and seven hours later the on-call neurologist was sitting at the end of my hospital bed.
"Well, I can't tell you with 100% assurance because we have one more test to confirm it, but my first, second, and third on the list of probabilities is that you have what's called Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. POTS for short."
So there it was.
I hadn't been faking. I wasn't being a drama queen. There was a reason.
I was ill.
Honestly I am not sure how much more I can type out right now, both because I am already completely exhausted from reading Owen two books this morning and singing him a song and typing this, but also emotionally drained and on edge.
There is not a cure for POTS. There are types of POTS that improve and go away over the course of several years. As it stands, the type I have seems to be the kind that doesn't. What does that mean? Aside from the hand of God moving either miraculously or through medical breakthroughs, I will be walking through the rest of my life with POTS. Until I see Jesus face to face in all of his glory, I will never be the same as I was a month and a half ago.
There are medications that will help me continue to function as close to normal as possible though. One problem - I cannot nurse Owen while on them.
So, with heavy pain and an ache I can't even begin to express, yesterday started cold-turkey weaning my sweet, sweet son. Praise Jesus that we had already started weaning gradually over the past couple of months, so instead of 5-8 times a day of nursing he was already down to 2-3 times. But these past 4 weeks have taken a toll on him. God's grace is that he loves playing with tons of people, but nursing was the one semblance of normal for him and I. It was our time to snuggle and to be close when everything else was topsy turvy.
Suffice it to say, I've been a wreck.
Through all of this though, I have no question in my mind that God was and is not shocked at the fact that I most likely have a chronic illness in which my Autonomic Nervous System misfires and functions abnormally.
My sobs of heartache for the confused child at my breast do not fall on deaf ears, but on ears that wept for Jerusalem.
My very slow process of beginning to mourn the idea of what I "should be" as a mama and wife, the idea of having another baby soon, and even going through my day without having someone else care for my child, make my meals, and clean my house is happening as my faithful Savior holds me close and wipes my tears and reminds me I am only defined by the Cross.
I would love prayers. Not only for myself but for my incredible husband who has been through hell and back with me and still loves me as tenderly as he did the day we were married. Also for Owen, that he would know without a shadow of a doubt my love for him, and that my ability to be able to run after him does not indicate my level of desire to be his mama. Also that the doctors would be able to move forward with treatment after my final test is complete.
I know that God is using this to draw me closer to him and I am so grateful for that assurance. I'm not okay with everything though, and I'm not sure I have to be quite yet. I'm not mad at God for allowing this to happen, but am grieved that it is happening. I am hopeful that things will get better, but I ache more for heaven than I ever have before.
I will try to update after I do the final test, but until then,
Sola Dei Gloria
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
If I'm Honest, I Don't Agree With Jesus.
That's a bold statement if I've ever written one. That I don't agree with Jesus? What am I thinking? Isn't he my Savior and the Lord of my life? Well, yes, of course. But recently I have been grappling with the concept of whether or not I actually agree with, and want to follow, all that Jesus said and did through scripture.
These thoughts somewhat began with Andrew and I watching a clip from a 2010 "The Colbert Report" regarding the poor and Christmas. Now, while I do not even pretend to agree with all that is said in this clip, towards the end of it he says something that cut me to my heart. I laughed, but days later I am still sitting in the pain of how true his statement was:
"If we are going to be a Christian nation that doesn't help the poor, either we've got to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we've got to acknowledge the fact that he commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition, and then it meant that we just don't want to do it."
I want to scoff at it and roll my eyes at how political the clip makes Jesus. I don't care for discussions regarding what political candidate Jesus would have voted for, and I initially wanted to dismiss this for what it was - political humor. But I fully believe that whether Colbert intended to or not, God used his words to reveal a hidden section of my heart and my unbelief in Jesus that I never wanted to look at.
I don't want to look at it, because when I look at it I have to look Jesus in the eyes and honestly say that I don't agree with what he is asking me to do. Bluntly stated: I don't want to. Caring for and loving on people who don't deserve it feels tortuous. I want to love those who love me and spout gossip and lies and bitter judgement on those people who hurt, mock, and abuse me. I want to keep my possessions, my security, my comfort and my family. I don't want to be asked to give up anything that I believe is "rightfully mine".
Am I the only one?
We don't talk about the parts of scripture that seem too difficult and too "out there", we just end up not doing them. But, just because we don't speak honestly about what we are struggling to walk out doesn't mean that God doesn't know intimately the unbelief and the hardness of our hearts. I read verses like Matthew 15:8 - "This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me", and want to quickly pass over it, to name a few names in my head of people who fit this description and shake my head in disapproval of their sins. I point the finger quickly to others who live hypocritically in my eyes, but am desperate for no one to find out how hypocritical I really am.
So what's the point? Where do I go from here? It's easy to write a blog about how terrible saying Jesus is wrong and ridiculously demanding, but hard to actually admit to him that I am in sin. That it's not Jesus or the Bible that need to change, but my hardened and selfish heart. And, although I wan to think that I can do that myself, there is no way I could white knuckle it enough to change on my own.
I so desperately need Jesus.
I need him to forgive my unbelief and strengthen my faith to fully believe what he says is good and true and holy. Even if that means I need to give up comfort, entitlement or safety. I need him to wash me clean from my self-righteous hypocrisy that threatens to swallow me whole. To mold my heart to deeply desire to love my enemies and to do good to those who hate me (Luke 6:27). I want my initial reaction to being hurt to be forgiveness and not bitterness, that I have eyes to see the poor and needy around me as Jesus sees them, and not as society does. I need to be transformed.
A friend of mine described repentance recently in a way that really resonated with me. That repentance isn't just changing or confessing sin. It's literally turning our back on sin and Satan and turning to face the Lord. However silly it may sound, I am so grateful that the Lord showed me through political satire the depth of sin that I have held in secret for so long. I don't have the strength to change, but I fully believe the Holy Spirit will do a change in me, and I am excited to see what that looks like.
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
These thoughts somewhat began with Andrew and I watching a clip from a 2010 "The Colbert Report" regarding the poor and Christmas. Now, while I do not even pretend to agree with all that is said in this clip, towards the end of it he says something that cut me to my heart. I laughed, but days later I am still sitting in the pain of how true his statement was:
"If we are going to be a Christian nation that doesn't help the poor, either we've got to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we've got to acknowledge the fact that he commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition, and then it meant that we just don't want to do it."
I want to scoff at it and roll my eyes at how political the clip makes Jesus. I don't care for discussions regarding what political candidate Jesus would have voted for, and I initially wanted to dismiss this for what it was - political humor. But I fully believe that whether Colbert intended to or not, God used his words to reveal a hidden section of my heart and my unbelief in Jesus that I never wanted to look at.
I don't want to look at it, because when I look at it I have to look Jesus in the eyes and honestly say that I don't agree with what he is asking me to do. Bluntly stated: I don't want to. Caring for and loving on people who don't deserve it feels tortuous. I want to love those who love me and spout gossip and lies and bitter judgement on those people who hurt, mock, and abuse me. I want to keep my possessions, my security, my comfort and my family. I don't want to be asked to give up anything that I believe is "rightfully mine".
Am I the only one?
We don't talk about the parts of scripture that seem too difficult and too "out there", we just end up not doing them. But, just because we don't speak honestly about what we are struggling to walk out doesn't mean that God doesn't know intimately the unbelief and the hardness of our hearts. I read verses like Matthew 15:8 - "This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me", and want to quickly pass over it, to name a few names in my head of people who fit this description and shake my head in disapproval of their sins. I point the finger quickly to others who live hypocritically in my eyes, but am desperate for no one to find out how hypocritical I really am.
So what's the point? Where do I go from here? It's easy to write a blog about how terrible saying Jesus is wrong and ridiculously demanding, but hard to actually admit to him that I am in sin. That it's not Jesus or the Bible that need to change, but my hardened and selfish heart. And, although I wan to think that I can do that myself, there is no way I could white knuckle it enough to change on my own.
I so desperately need Jesus.
I need him to forgive my unbelief and strengthen my faith to fully believe what he says is good and true and holy. Even if that means I need to give up comfort, entitlement or safety. I need him to wash me clean from my self-righteous hypocrisy that threatens to swallow me whole. To mold my heart to deeply desire to love my enemies and to do good to those who hate me (Luke 6:27). I want my initial reaction to being hurt to be forgiveness and not bitterness, that I have eyes to see the poor and needy around me as Jesus sees them, and not as society does. I need to be transformed.
A friend of mine described repentance recently in a way that really resonated with me. That repentance isn't just changing or confessing sin. It's literally turning our back on sin and Satan and turning to face the Lord. However silly it may sound, I am so grateful that the Lord showed me through political satire the depth of sin that I have held in secret for so long. I don't have the strength to change, but I fully believe the Holy Spirit will do a change in me, and I am excited to see what that looks like.
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Friday, January 31, 2014
U-District Mission: January Update
So much has happened since November when I first wrote about our family taking up the call to be all-in and on mission to the University District. What was initially filled with passion and exuberance was met with daily struggles to see the hope of what God can do here, and a battle minute by minute to not hide away from the pain and suffering around us but willingly walk straight into the thick of it.
That being said, God has worked so much these last few weeks! Things that we never, EVER thought would happen actually did, and connections we only thought about making are actually real rather than theory.
Here's what has been happening:
Goodbye Car!
After much praying and increasing mechanic bills, Andrew and I decided to sell our car. This means that we bus and walk everywhere. While it sounds crazy, living in the UD makes it quite simple to be car-less. We live within a couple of blocks of dozens of bus lines, grocery stores, pharmacies and incredible restaurants. When we need a car, there have been families who have generously given us theirs to use for the day, and Zipcar is always another option.
I have learned a great deal about my entitlement and pride through going car-less. I like my schedule to stay what I have planned, and bussing does not allow for this. Instead of knowing exactly how my day will look, I have to be flexible - busses are early and missed and that's how it goes. I also am learning how scared I am of how people will view me through how Owen behaves on the bus rides. My pride wants to think that I have a perfect child who sleeps on the bus rides and plays quietly on my nap when he is awake. Reality is that my precious toddler is a toddler. He wants to move around and see people and isn't always wanting to remain quiet. This will take a while for me, but I know that God is molding my heart to only desire His will and the best for Owen, even when that means my pride is shattered and I receive disapproving looks from fellow passengers.
Community Group
We switched community groups around Thanksgiving, and God has grown that community in these couple of months more than I ever thought possible. We adored the old group we were a part of, and it was painful to leave such a godly group of people. Our new group though is an easy walk or bus ride from our house, and is led by a couple who have also made the UD their home and mission field. Being able to open up once again and be vulnerable with the women of the group has been a challenge, but has been met with love and support which I am so grateful for. We also are so excited to be able to serve together at the UD YMCA every other month. This opportunity gives us the chance to interact personally with youth in the area who are homeless and struggling, and not only give them food, but a friendly interaction and, I pray, hope. I am so looking forward to March when we serve again, and it has been such an awesome thing to see the youth we served around the UD and make connections while just doing life.
U-District Library
The UD branch of the Seattle Public Library system is just a couple of steps away from our house, and we have started to take advantage of this more and more over the last month. I joined their monthly book club and our first meeting was this Monday - I was not only one of the youngest people there, but very obviously the one who has the least knowledge of discussing classic works of fiction! It showed me that I have a lot to learn, and the diversity of the participants is exactly what I was hoping for - I really need out of my little bubble, and this makes it happen. Andrew and I have also started taking Owen to the preschool pajama story time on Tuesdays. He adores the children's librarian and is even beginning to get more comfortable playing along with others - not just sitting within arms reach of us.
Neighbors
One of the frequently overlooked gems in the U-District is the park on 50th. When we first moved into the UD, I swore that I would never take Owen to that park, I thought it was "sketchy" and gross. While it is sometimes less-than-ideal, it is also a great way that we have interacted with some of the other families living in the area. Owen has taken to wanting to swing and slide down the slide, and often points and grunts at the park when we walk past it.
Another way that we have been interacting and trying to build better connections and relationships with our neighbors is through actually stopping to talk with some of the homeless who live around us. One gentleman in particular has been placed on Andrew's and my heart and we are excited to learn more about him and his story, and hopefully be able to love and serve him well.
That being said, God has worked so much these last few weeks! Things that we never, EVER thought would happen actually did, and connections we only thought about making are actually real rather than theory.
Here's what has been happening:
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| Happily trekking to Trader Joe's with "Giraffey" and Daddy. |
Goodbye Car!
After much praying and increasing mechanic bills, Andrew and I decided to sell our car. This means that we bus and walk everywhere. While it sounds crazy, living in the UD makes it quite simple to be car-less. We live within a couple of blocks of dozens of bus lines, grocery stores, pharmacies and incredible restaurants. When we need a car, there have been families who have generously given us theirs to use for the day, and Zipcar is always another option.
I have learned a great deal about my entitlement and pride through going car-less. I like my schedule to stay what I have planned, and bussing does not allow for this. Instead of knowing exactly how my day will look, I have to be flexible - busses are early and missed and that's how it goes. I also am learning how scared I am of how people will view me through how Owen behaves on the bus rides. My pride wants to think that I have a perfect child who sleeps on the bus rides and plays quietly on my nap when he is awake. Reality is that my precious toddler is a toddler. He wants to move around and see people and isn't always wanting to remain quiet. This will take a while for me, but I know that God is molding my heart to only desire His will and the best for Owen, even when that means my pride is shattered and I receive disapproving looks from fellow passengers.
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| Awesome Indian food at Shalimar for a Date Night on the Ave. |
We switched community groups around Thanksgiving, and God has grown that community in these couple of months more than I ever thought possible. We adored the old group we were a part of, and it was painful to leave such a godly group of people. Our new group though is an easy walk or bus ride from our house, and is led by a couple who have also made the UD their home and mission field. Being able to open up once again and be vulnerable with the women of the group has been a challenge, but has been met with love and support which I am so grateful for. We also are so excited to be able to serve together at the UD YMCA every other month. This opportunity gives us the chance to interact personally with youth in the area who are homeless and struggling, and not only give them food, but a friendly interaction and, I pray, hope. I am so looking forward to March when we serve again, and it has been such an awesome thing to see the youth we served around the UD and make connections while just doing life.
U-District Library
The UD branch of the Seattle Public Library system is just a couple of steps away from our house, and we have started to take advantage of this more and more over the last month. I joined their monthly book club and our first meeting was this Monday - I was not only one of the youngest people there, but very obviously the one who has the least knowledge of discussing classic works of fiction! It showed me that I have a lot to learn, and the diversity of the participants is exactly what I was hoping for - I really need out of my little bubble, and this makes it happen. Andrew and I have also started taking Owen to the preschool pajama story time on Tuesdays. He adores the children's librarian and is even beginning to get more comfortable playing along with others - not just sitting within arms reach of us.
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| Owen colored a mitten for the display! (his is bottom right) |
Neighbors
One of the frequently overlooked gems in the U-District is the park on 50th. When we first moved into the UD, I swore that I would never take Owen to that park, I thought it was "sketchy" and gross. While it is sometimes less-than-ideal, it is also a great way that we have interacted with some of the other families living in the area. Owen has taken to wanting to swing and slide down the slide, and often points and grunts at the park when we walk past it.
Another way that we have been interacting and trying to build better connections and relationships with our neighbors is through actually stopping to talk with some of the homeless who live around us. One gentleman in particular has been placed on Andrew's and my heart and we are excited to learn more about him and his story, and hopefully be able to love and serve him well.
_________________________
Needless to say, God has been moving in our hearts and lives and daily routines here in the Titus Homestead. I wish that I could talk more about the individual interactions and lessons I am learning, but for the sake of time, I will try to condense everything into a once-monthly update. I will also be posting pictures and quick prayer requests and praises throughout the month, so look for them as well!
Here are some ways you can be praying for us this month:
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| On one of our bus riding adventures. |
For connections at the pajama story time - it's not common to be in a room with just UD families outside of church, and we would love to be able to get to know the parents who call the UD home, or at least desire to bring their kiddos to the UD library for this story time.
For opportunities in the RNA - this month we are joining the Roosevelt Neighborhood Alliance which is a group of neighbors in our area who care passionately for the neighborhood and work alongside the city doing various advocacy work and volunteer opportunities. Andrew would love to get more involved with things like zoning and building development planning, so this would be the place to start for sure.
For continued favor with bussing - Owen and I use the bus quite frequently now, and it is tricky but totally doable and sometimes quite fun. Prayers that we would continue to enjoy our bus rides and that somehow I can make connections with those on the buses we take on a regular basis would be awesome. It's so hard to talk through iPods and headphones, but having toddler who wants to play peek-a-boo does help :)
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Becoming Missionaries
The Titus family has decided to become missionaries.
It is not as though God spoke audibly "your family will be missionaries" but rather this has been something on our hearts for quite some time. God has brought us to a point where we are no longer satisfied with just saying that we want to be missionaries. We actually want to be missionaries. To live as missionaries. To (if God so wills) die as missionaries.
We want to see people reached for Jesus. We want to see the neighborhood where we are on mission be changed, and the city radically transformed through the power of the Holy Spirit. We want to build relationships with the people in the area, work with those who are already serving through providing meals and clothing to the homeless for example, and build friendships with those around us. Honestly, we want to see a Gospel explosion - something like Ephesus when Paul preached and the Holy Spirit moved and the city was transformed 180 degrees (Acts 19).
So, yeah. We are going to begin missions work.
The place where we feel we want to be missionaries to is quite diverse. It's a place that has a high turnover of people throughout the year, and yet there are also residents who have called it home for decades. During the summer and warmer months, it has quite a large homeless population, even though it is also home to incredibly wealthy pockets of homes and schools. To say that it is economically diverse is an understatement.
It also is undergoing massive changes. There is new infrastructure being built and planning to be built soon that is changing the landscape of the area greatly. Although some of the people want the changes, others are fighting it fiercely and there is a hotbed of bitterness and anger towards each other building rapidly. We long to see the various sides come together for the betterment of the area, but honestly, that will have to be a work of the Holy Spirit at this point. Tensions run deep, and run passionately.
There is a local church about 6 blocks from our home that we are partnering with. In fact, there are several people on mission to this area already and we are excited to join with them. One family lives within walking distance and has a son close to Owen's age - little buddies!! Their hearts are for the area as well, and Andrew and I are so encouraged by their obedience to God, even when it means inconvenience and a life far from where they thought they would be living and raising their family. To know that others have a heart for the same area and are this close to us is incredible. Truly and honestly a Godsend.
We know that this is not going to be easy. In fact, it's already been met with resistance, both by our sinful self-seeking, prideful natures, and others who think we are totally nuts. It is far from the safest area, but compared to most other places around the world is totally safe. Many bus routes come in and out of the area, which is awesome because we are likely to not have a car for too much longer. There are grocery stores nearby that we can walk to, as well as doctors offices and other necessities that are quite easy to get to, even with a stroller.
The living situation is both comfortable and rough. The house doesn't heat incredibly well and has a couple other issues, but it's big enough to host meals (which we are praying will include many neighbors and non-Christians) as well as playdates and prayer nights to build community and focus our eyes on Jesus - there's no other way this is going to work at all. We are super blessed to have been able to find it, as there are not too many like it within the price range we can afford.
Andrew will still be working full-time as an accountant, and I will still be staying at home full-time. While from the outside world it seems more profitable to have me working also, God has and will provide, there's no question in our minds about that. Many things will be the same about our family, but we are praying that many more will be radically different.
What can you do? Pray! Please pray for God to continue to change our hearts and place within us a deeper desire than even now to serve and love and reach the area we feel drawn to. Please pray for financial provision - with medical bills from earlier this year and other things it is going to continue to be a struggle. Like I said before though, there has never been a time in which God has not provided our daily bread though, both spiritually and literally. God has used our financial issues to draw us to him in the past and through this all we know he will continue to do so. Please also partner with us in prayer for the area - that God would move mightily and many would meet Jesus. That we would be bold in our actions and not fear persecution in any form. That we would raise Owen to love the people around him and not be in a Christian bubble, but rather in the world but not of it. Also prayer that Andrew and I would continue to be united would be amazing - that through this next season of our lives that God would grow us closer to him and each other and keep our marriage strong.
We are super excited. Incredibly nervous. And without a doubt certain we can no longer sit in our house and think about how much we want to partner with the Lord to reach people. We are all-in. It will be a fight to stay all-in every day, I know it. It already has been. My mind doubts that this is really that big of a deal, and that perhaps I am being too out there in my thinking. But then I read Acts and I realize God invites us into such a deeper relationship with him, such a more radical life than morning quiet times and Sunday services. I'm so looking forward to it.
I'll be updating frequently with prayer requests and evidences of God's grace in this journey. We will post pictures of the area and hopefully events that we can use to build community and open doors to relationships with those around us, particularly our neighbors. I will label this all under a new tab on this blog so that it will be easier to find.
The tab will be: "U-District Mission".
Our heart is to be all-in in the U-District. To see the place where we live be reached for Jesus. To live without reservation, without fear, and with our eyes on Jesus. Whether that be India or exactly where we currently are.
:)
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
It is not as though God spoke audibly "your family will be missionaries" but rather this has been something on our hearts for quite some time. God has brought us to a point where we are no longer satisfied with just saying that we want to be missionaries. We actually want to be missionaries. To live as missionaries. To (if God so wills) die as missionaries.
We want to see people reached for Jesus. We want to see the neighborhood where we are on mission be changed, and the city radically transformed through the power of the Holy Spirit. We want to build relationships with the people in the area, work with those who are already serving through providing meals and clothing to the homeless for example, and build friendships with those around us. Honestly, we want to see a Gospel explosion - something like Ephesus when Paul preached and the Holy Spirit moved and the city was transformed 180 degrees (Acts 19).
So, yeah. We are going to begin missions work.
The place where we feel we want to be missionaries to is quite diverse. It's a place that has a high turnover of people throughout the year, and yet there are also residents who have called it home for decades. During the summer and warmer months, it has quite a large homeless population, even though it is also home to incredibly wealthy pockets of homes and schools. To say that it is economically diverse is an understatement.
It also is undergoing massive changes. There is new infrastructure being built and planning to be built soon that is changing the landscape of the area greatly. Although some of the people want the changes, others are fighting it fiercely and there is a hotbed of bitterness and anger towards each other building rapidly. We long to see the various sides come together for the betterment of the area, but honestly, that will have to be a work of the Holy Spirit at this point. Tensions run deep, and run passionately.
There is a local church about 6 blocks from our home that we are partnering with. In fact, there are several people on mission to this area already and we are excited to join with them. One family lives within walking distance and has a son close to Owen's age - little buddies!! Their hearts are for the area as well, and Andrew and I are so encouraged by their obedience to God, even when it means inconvenience and a life far from where they thought they would be living and raising their family. To know that others have a heart for the same area and are this close to us is incredible. Truly and honestly a Godsend.
We know that this is not going to be easy. In fact, it's already been met with resistance, both by our sinful self-seeking, prideful natures, and others who think we are totally nuts. It is far from the safest area, but compared to most other places around the world is totally safe. Many bus routes come in and out of the area, which is awesome because we are likely to not have a car for too much longer. There are grocery stores nearby that we can walk to, as well as doctors offices and other necessities that are quite easy to get to, even with a stroller.
The living situation is both comfortable and rough. The house doesn't heat incredibly well and has a couple other issues, but it's big enough to host meals (which we are praying will include many neighbors and non-Christians) as well as playdates and prayer nights to build community and focus our eyes on Jesus - there's no other way this is going to work at all. We are super blessed to have been able to find it, as there are not too many like it within the price range we can afford.
Andrew will still be working full-time as an accountant, and I will still be staying at home full-time. While from the outside world it seems more profitable to have me working also, God has and will provide, there's no question in our minds about that. Many things will be the same about our family, but we are praying that many more will be radically different.
What can you do? Pray! Please pray for God to continue to change our hearts and place within us a deeper desire than even now to serve and love and reach the area we feel drawn to. Please pray for financial provision - with medical bills from earlier this year and other things it is going to continue to be a struggle. Like I said before though, there has never been a time in which God has not provided our daily bread though, both spiritually and literally. God has used our financial issues to draw us to him in the past and through this all we know he will continue to do so. Please also partner with us in prayer for the area - that God would move mightily and many would meet Jesus. That we would be bold in our actions and not fear persecution in any form. That we would raise Owen to love the people around him and not be in a Christian bubble, but rather in the world but not of it. Also prayer that Andrew and I would continue to be united would be amazing - that through this next season of our lives that God would grow us closer to him and each other and keep our marriage strong.
We are super excited. Incredibly nervous. And without a doubt certain we can no longer sit in our house and think about how much we want to partner with the Lord to reach people. We are all-in. It will be a fight to stay all-in every day, I know it. It already has been. My mind doubts that this is really that big of a deal, and that perhaps I am being too out there in my thinking. But then I read Acts and I realize God invites us into such a deeper relationship with him, such a more radical life than morning quiet times and Sunday services. I'm so looking forward to it.
I'll be updating frequently with prayer requests and evidences of God's grace in this journey. We will post pictures of the area and hopefully events that we can use to build community and open doors to relationships with those around us, particularly our neighbors. I will label this all under a new tab on this blog so that it will be easier to find.
The tab will be: "U-District Mission".
Our heart is to be all-in in the U-District. To see the place where we live be reached for Jesus. To live without reservation, without fear, and with our eyes on Jesus. Whether that be India or exactly where we currently are.
:)
Until next post,
Sola Dei Gloria
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Pumpkin Patch 2013
Last year, Andrew and I visited
Bob's Corn Maze and Pumpkin Patch for the first time. We had such a great
experience, and knew we wanted to go back with Owen for sure! If you've never
been, Bob's is a great place whether or not you end up actually buying any
pumpkins. With an assortment of tasty fall treats (pumpkin donuts, apple cider,
roasted corn…), hayrides, and a field of pumpkins there is plenty to do and see
without spending much or any money at all.
Andrew and I
both love the idea of making traditions as a family, and a visit to a pumpkin
patch to pick out a pumpkin and spend the afternoon with family and friends is
one we are excited for Owen to grow up with. While we went last year by
ourselves, this year two families from our community group joined us. It was so
fun to see what Owen will be like next year, as some of the kiddos are about a
year older than him. The farm animals, food, and hay ride to the patch were all
enjoyed and while Owen snuggled in the Ergo the entire time, he took everything
in analytically in true Owen fashion.
Here are
some of the pictures from the day
Thursday, June 7, 2012
We shouldn't be having this baby.
We shouldn’t be having this baby.
It sounds surprising and shocking. Why joyously announce a pregnancy when you think you shouldn’t be having a child? To tell you the truth, it is shocking, but not in the way you’re thinking.
I grew up wanting to be a stay at home mom. Oh, I wanted to be a singer, an actress, a marine biologist and a teacher, but deep in my heart, I desperately wanted to be a mom. Late in elementary school through undergrad I battled anorexia. I always had irregular cycles, but lost my period altogether for nearly a year after many years of starvation. It scared me. I told myself that something had to change or I would never be able to have kids. Once it returned, things did change, but in a terrible way.
Five years later I found myself deeper into my eating disorder than I ever imagined was possible. By “found myself” I mean I willingly walked into a sinful relationship, and instead of heeding the gentle warnings of my Savior and God I turned my back on him. This relationship, I thought, had “saved me” from anorexia. Like Gomer though, I thought my lover had saved me, when all the while God had provided and saved me with his own hand and provision (Hosea 2:8). In reality, the relationship turned more and more unhealthy, and was characterized by manipulation, control, abuse, and sexual assault. I wanted out. I wanted to feel numb. I wanted to die. I cut, I starved, I purged, and I continued to run from the God who had saved me.
Through the grace of God alone, I left that relationship. I had physical and emotional scars, but God had broken in and broke my heart to him once again - I was the prodigal daughter. God lifted the depression, the cutting, the purging, and the starvation. I struggled to believe a man who loved Jesus would ever want something as tarnished as I, but God continued to walk with me. I found him redeeming every part of my heart, especially my sinfully false beliefs about his forgiveness and goodness. The following year, a man who loved Jesus began to pursue me. I didn’t know a lot about him other than he had been redeemed from much, and that he loved God more deeply than I ever thought was possible. He worshiped Jesus, he loved me well, and 3 1/2 months later he asked me to marry him. As we walked through dating and engagement we walked through our pasts, and it became time for me to face a dark reality with my future husband - I may never be able to have children. The years of abuse I wrecked my body with had stopped my cycle completely. A round of hormone therapy had been tried, but was unsuccessful. My sin had deep consequences. My godly fiancé stayed. He comforted me, lead my back to the truth of Jesus, and prayed for me.
One month before our wedding I decided to try one last round of hormonal treatment. Only hours before I picked up the prescription, Andrew called me. He had a “weird” feeling and wanted to know how long the drug could be active in my system, and if there were any warnings about it. I called the pharmacist, who informed me it had a small precautionary warning - due to the drug forcing a menstrual cycle, if in the unlikely chance I became pregnant during the treatment, it could become abortive. It would stay in my system three weeks, which meant 3-4 days into our marriage. Through tears streaming, we knew I could not risk it, and cried out to God. I felt as though I looked like Hannah (in 1 Samuel 1:12,13) but God comforted me in the truth that he, and he alone, opened and closed wombs. We prayed for my womb to be opened by God, and cried, and prayed some more.
Two weeks before our wedding, I started my period.
After our wedding, and after my hopes of conceiving on our honeymoon were gone (I thought for sure that was God's plan - how perfect right?), WebMD said that my periods were still too off for conception. They had their red warnings signs up saying that they calculated I was not ovulating, and should seek medical help. I was angry. I was hurt. My "perfect plan" might not happen. But, in those weeks, and through many tears, God brought me to a place where I could honestly say I deeply wanted a baby, but without hesitation I wanted God’s will for my womb above a child.
The end of April though... I saw a pink "+".
We’re now ending our first trimester, and are still in awe of God’s hand in our lives and this pregnancy. A few weeks ago my OBGYN’s jaw dropped when she heard about my medical history and irregularity/absence of periods. She commented about how it was unusual that I could have gotten pregnant under those circumstances, or actually at all. All we could do was shrug and smile.
So, we really shouldn’t be having this baby. But God’s plan was different than our “should’s” and “should not’s”. This baby, who God is knitting together in my womb, has been prayed for, and prayed over, and longed for so deeply. Falling in love with my child causes me to stand more in awe of God’s grace and power and love than I ever have in my life.
Baby Titus truly is a miracle.
For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
(Psalm 139:13-16 ESV)
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