Sunday, July 1, 2012

what a month can hold

Months. 30 days alternating with 31. All ways of counting and keeping track of this concept called time. Sweet McKinzie Lynn was born in April and it was around then - that I completely lost the concept of this thing called time. Every day ran into the next. Every evening hour bled into the early morning and then the afternoon and then much to my teary dismay, the cycle started all over again without realizing it. Have you ever felt like that?

Loved ones visited for three months straight to meet #3 and to help in their own way. Each visit was a joy and accepted with much gratitude as three children under the age of 4 (at the time) is quite a bit overwhelming. Each visit exposing more of my sin as we seek to live in close quarters and function while learning a new normal. Leisure time goes out the window. Heck, you have to practically set the timer on your phone to go to the bathroom or you just might forget. My primary mode of communication was through texts and I was secretly hoping the auto-text function would just write for me, as my thoughts weren't so coherent or clear. I stopped knowing how to respond to the question, "How are you?" Have you ever felt like that?

Then, life, already slippery, took a turn and started falling uncontrollably like a rock slide that you can't avoid or stop or move away from - before an entire side of that once beautifully constructed mountain becomes a pile of dust and debris. Have you ever felt like that?

My father-in-law had emergency (successful) open heart surgery and my husband rightfully left to be with him for 7 days. McKinzie was 6 weeks old. That was rough on many levels. As with most times of crisis or trial, though, God gently led me to the end of myself so that I found myself not just crying out for him, but pleading and weeping with Him for help. His promises are true. His Word and His very character are a cornerstone that will not crumble in these desperate times. That is life-saving Truth.

It was during that 7 day period that I not only deeply felt the void of my partner in raising these sweet babes, but I deeply felt the community of faith step into the gap to help carry the intense load. For someone who likes to have it all together and under control, this was a very vulnerable time of letting things go. Letting others step in my kitchen and feed my children so that I could just crawl back into bed for just another 30 minutes. Letting friends clean my toilet and those deep dusty corners. Letting friends do laundry, 7 times over, folding underwear and putting it up without even asking where it goes. Letting friends take my kids to the playground along with their kids for an hour or two, so that I could catch a breathe and ... crawl back into bed for another stint. Welcoming one of my dearest and best as she left her family of three to help me with my family of three. God does not just give grace. He gives it abundantly. Grace upon grace upon grace.

Sacrifice was so evident during this time.
Community cannot exist without sacrifice.
Love is authenticated by sacrifice.
Self-sufficiency leads to loneliness and helplessness and ultimately failure, but humility leads to love and community and the fullest embracing of life.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 5:3

That's funny. Even as we begin to experience just a glimpse of the kingdom of Heaven here and now - Jesus makes it clear that the sweetest experience of what is to be fully realized eternally, comes from the moments when we are depleted, vulnerable, humbled, exhausted, teachable, desperate for Him, poor in Spirit. This Truth makes it possible to turn back and give praise even in the darkest moments because of its sweet Purpose.

Husband returned. My father-in-law is better now than ever before. God continues to lavish grace upon our family.

Husband returned but returned to immense pressure at work. We are feeling as though God may be leading us to a crossroads once again with next steps and change may lie ahead. I have been praying for David but in a pitiful way. I pray for everyone else sometimes before lifting up my life partner, my other half, my shade, my lover, my kindred spirit of friends. I often give thanks for him, but I lack in lifting him up and praying for his best. The pressure continued. A week later, we left for El Paso for my grandmother's memorial service. After 36 hours of travel, multiple cancelled flights, traveling with 3 car seats, 3 carry-ons, 3 backpacks, 3 children, 2 strollers, a surprise overnight stay in dallas to ride out the storm... David started not feeling well. Sore. Chest pain. Fatigue. I excused it with our horrendous travel day. The next day was filled with laughter and memories with family, but David was declining. I could see it and just like the previous rock slide - I couldn't stop it. The last day of our 3 day trip - David hit an all-time low and his body was now showing externally the turmoil and pain he had been feeling internally for the previous few days. After landing back in New Jersey and driving 2 1/2 hours through the Puerto Rican Day parade into the City, he helped us all back up to the apartment and immediately left for the emergency room.

I went into survival mode. Have you ever felt like that?

I was numb. The past few months of having a newborn, sleepless nights, constant visitors, work pressures, travel disasters, a memorial service, and all of the "just getting by's" all took it's toll on David and I. David in the emergency room. I -standing with unpacked suitcases and 3 hungry and tired and crying children. That's an empty, lonely feeling. Have you ever felt like that?

I learned from the last ordeal a few weeks prior that I need to ask for help. Interesting that the Lord graciously led us through that battle to gently lead me to being teachable and confessing my self-sufficiency. David texted that he had come down with the Shingles. He was going to be quarantined for a few hours while they treated him. I couldn't let the kids touch anything. All had to be cleansed thoroughly. He wouldn't be able to pick up or hold the children for weeks. All of these words circling in my head without realization as to the repercussions.

Surely, this same community that had just brought meals because of a new baby and a community that had sacrificially helped with kids and laundry while David was gone - would not be able to continue to fill THIS gap.

Grace upon grace. Sacrifice. Love. Christ-centered community continues.

David is still in pain. His contagious stage has passed, but it has been over a month and I am only able to blog because a friend took my children along with hers to the park for a few hours to allow me to catch my breathe and ... crawl back into bed for a time to rest.

It is a terribly sad, immensely humbling and incredibly frustrating thing to watch your husband suffer. To suffer with no end in sight. To suffer with joy and humility and a prayerful heart. To suffer in a way that is still shepherding our family. To suffer with no expectation. To suffer with love. What a picture of Christ he remains even through the dust and debris.

Oh, what a month ... or two...or three... can hold: a new baby, visitors and family, open-heart surgery, a memorial service and family reunion, potential job changes, and the shingles.

I picked up my journal that I began when I turned 30. On the cover page, I had written this verse just after experiencing a miscarriage.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities.

For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Corinthians 12:9-10


That's funny.

Poor in Spirit = the riches found in the Kingdom of Heaven. Weakness accompanied with God's grace = Strength beyond measure. Victory = Boasting in the saving work of Christ. Suffering = Sanctification.

"If thou shouldst give me choice to live in pleasure and keep my sins, or to have them burnt away with trial, give me sanctified affliction." Valley of Vision

It's that prayer that continues to walk before me in these days.

No rest guaranteed. No entitlement to a life of ease. I want to stop it. I want to slow it down. I want my husband to stop suffering. I want to live near family. I want to have a porch and green grass outside my window. I want to sleep a full night. I want...I want...I want... And, yet - I know it won't satisfy. I know Jesus is immeasurably greater than all of these things. I also know this suffering for David won't last forever, thanks be to God. I know that God has purpose in this time for us as a family, as He does in periods of rest. I know that His love is steadfast and His grace abundant. I have seen it tangibly through our time in New York and with our community here. I have felt it in the love of a husband suffering or well. I have experienced it through the birth of yet another sweet baby that I don't deserve. I have celebrated it during each of my children's sweet birthdays these same past months.

It's in those promises, clinging tightly to His Word despite my experience good or bad, that I trust. Thanks be to God. I am thankful God doesn't change with my experience. He is the foundation and the only sure thing during life's rock slides. He doesn't let us live with our sin. He loves through trials. He lifts our weak and feeble knees. He gives power to the weary. He renews our strength with mercies each and every morning. He is near.

Now, let's see what the month of July holds.

2 comments:

Christine said...

Oh my friend!!!! It's so great to read your words again. Thank you for sharing your struggles in such an honest way. I wish I was there to give you a big hug! I can only say that you are not alone. Shingles is the worst. When Steven had it, I felt so helpless, unable to stop the excruciating pain. Then when LB was 2 months old, he ripped open his achilles and was bedridden for a week. I understand a bit of the frustration and loneliness that comes during these times. I don't pretend to understand what it's like to have 3 kids under four, but I do know that you are one of the most incredible moms I know, and even in your lowest moments, how blessed those children are to have you and David as parents. Soldier on, mama. You are loved.

Kimber-Leigh said...

i am thankful that in the midst of all this, your focus remains Christ. it is so evident through your words.

i love your description of praying for David. so very true...i am guilty of not praying to the fullest for mine as well.

i love you friend...