Sinking

Back in 2007 (ish) I first heard the song How He Loves. (If you've ever felt really, really angry with God, you should totally check out that link by the way) It was during this song that I prayed to receive Christ for the first time.  I was moved to tears by the lyrics, by the imagery, and by this verse in particular - 

How beautiful a concept is that?  

Todd and I try to make it a priority to see the ocean once a year, and I am never more in awe of God's creation as I am when I stare out at the ocean.  The vastness, the expansiveness, the beauty of it  - it's magnificent and inspiring and awesome.  

Hearing that verse, and imagining God's grace in that way was - and still is - an incredibly powerful way for me to view Him.  To know that He is a God that offers all encompassing love, all encompassing forgiveness, all encompassing compassion.
English theologian Richard Sibbes once said, "There is more mercy in Christ than sin in us."

Don't you just love that?

It's easy to keep score.  In our own lives, in the lives of others - to pull out that invisible little checklist we all secretly keep in our heads.  To record a black mark when we screw up, when our friends screw up, when people we trust screw up.  And if you've been immersed in a religion or culture that pushes works as a value over grace, that's a hard habit or thought process to get past.  

But the truth is we ARE all sinners, each and every one of us.  And the even greater truth is that God knows us intimately and He still offers each one of us that all encompassing, as big as the ocean kind of grace, love and forgiveness.  

One of the things I love most about being a parent is the real life glimpse I get into what God's love must be like.  

I've held, nursed & cared for 3 newborns in my life and here's what I know.  Babies need their mothers. There is something primal about a newborn's need to be held close by a mother.  In the last 10 days of Declan's life, I have observed - again - how he is most easily calmed simply by me stopping what I am doing to nurse him, tuck him inside my shirt for a little skin to skin time, or wear him in a wrap close to my chest.  

In Isaiah 49:15 it says:

       “Can a woman forget her nursing child
           And have no compassion on the son of her womb?
           Even these may forget, but I will not forget you.
16           Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands;
          Your walls are continually before Me."

I love the imagery in this verse - how God compares His love to that of a mother and then takes it a step further by explaining that even if a mother's love fails her child, His love will not. His love never fails, He will never forget us and He will never give up on us.  

How powerful is that?  How incredible a promise to consider.  It's hard for me even comprehend that, because the love I feel for my own children is a crazy big kind of love and God's love is bigger.

There aren't many times in life that 'sinking' could be thought of as a positive.  If you're sinking, it's usually a bad thing.  But sinking into God's grace, into His love can offer you peace and rest.  It can and should calm your fears, your uncertainty and your guilt.  Sink into it and embrace it.  Offer it to those around you.

And remember the promise that God has given you - He knows you more intimately than a nursing mother knows her child and He has inscribed you on the palms of His hands.  He will not forget you.  

  

Declan is here!

It's been awhile!

Things have been kind of crazy round these parts, but we are settling into a new normal and I gotta say, loving it.  There is a quiet peace that has enveloped our house over the past month as we have focused on preparing for Declan's arrival and this week, welcoming him into our home.

As my due date approached, I started to feel a little depressed.  This is par for the course with my pregnancies - I have never suffered from post partum depression, but the weeks leading up to my children's births have always sent me into hibernation mode where I lay around, cry and feel overwhelmed.  There was no exception this time around, and when my due date came and went, I started to feel really sorry for myself.

Although my pregnancy had been easy for the most part, the emotional toll it was taking on me - fearing another loss, worrying about his health and wondering if I would actually get to hold a healthy baby at the end of it all was getting to me.  And carrying an 8 1/2 lb baby inside of me was taking its toll on my physical well being.  I hurt from head to toe. I couldn't sleep, couldn't roll over in bed without tearing up at the pain.

Honestly?  In the effort of full disclosure - I started to get a pathetic little attitude.  I even scheduled an induction on Thursday, October 17th - only 2 days past my due date because I convinced myself that I just couldn't do it anymore.  I was uneasy about inducing though - after all, I let Beckett cook an extra 9 days because I felt so passionate about not putting myself through it.  So after discussion and prayer with my husband, and a toddler who was slightly under the weather, I cancelled my induction first thing Thursday morning.

I'm so glad I did.

Honestly, it amazes me how God has things all worked out without us even knowing.  I had been praying so hard for Declan's arrival, for the timing to work, for the labor to go smoothly but I also knew that praying about it doesn't mean it will happen.  Let's be honest, I've had a lot of requests for things these last few years.  Some of them God says yes to, and some He says no to.  Todd & I joked that with our luck, Declan would pick the most inopportune time to arrive.

After canceling my induction, I decided to just go with the flow.  To wait on God to bring my sweet baby into the world on His terms.  I couldn't sleep that night so I took a hot bath, cleaned my living room and kitchen and bounced on a yoga ball.  (true story)  Around 2am I dozed off on our couch and woke up at 3 to a gush of water.  Never have I had my water break on its own in pregnancy so I laid there in a daze for a second, trying to figure out what was going on.

Would you believe that even with me being overdue, we still weren't ready for the hospital trip?  I assumed this labor would be much like my last two.  Long.  Labor with Logan was 24 hours, and even with Beckett it was 17 hours from the first contractions to his arrival.  I assumed I'd have time to finish packing, get the car seat installed, take a shower...

Not so much!

We rushed off to the hospital and I realized on the way that this baby was going to make a very quick entrance into the world.  Contractions were coming very close together!

Todd and I arrived at the hospital at 4:20 am and he was born at 6:43am, weighing a healthy 8lbs 9oz and blessed us with rosy cheeks and healthy screaming.

The entire experience was - dare I say - enjoyable almost.  At least as enjoyable as labor can be!

The timing was perfect.  Yes, we were hoping for perfect timing with this delivery.  Balancing 4 other kids, family out of town, Todd's writing and work schedule - we were praying for perfect timing.  And God delivered.  Everything fell into place, obligations were all met, and a healthy little boy made his way into our world, our hearts and our family.

We are so grateful for everyone who stopped by the hospital to see us and love on our little one.  When Beckett was born, he went immediately into the NICU and we never got to experience the stream of visitors that come with a new baby.  It was such a fun and amazing few days of sharing our joy with so many of you.

And now that he's here, a week old tomorrow, I am soaking up every second of this newborn phase that I can.  I was created to be a newborn mama.  I love it.  Curling up on the couch with a sleepy little newborn on my chest, scrawny little chicken legs tucked underneath, tiny butt high in the air, I am in my happy place.

The kids have all adjusted well to the littlest.  I knew the older kids would be fine, but even Beckett has taken to his new role with enthusiasm.  He gained an independence in the 2 days I was gone that continues to surprise me.  There will be ups and downs for sure, but I am in awe at how smoothly this entire week has gone.

It was impossible not to feel some sadness in those first few days in the hospital about Lilia.  As can be expected, everyone who found out about our growing basketball team asked if we would try for a girl next.  People told me over and over again how fun it would be to have a closet full of girly, ruffly things.

I don't know why we weren't able to make a place in our home for our daughter.  But, during a nursing session early this morning, I was quietly asking Declan if he knew he was the baby that I prayed for.  I whispered to him that I had prayed for him - specifically for him - and was so grateful to be his mama.  His little eyes locked on my face and a sleepy newborn smile stole my heart.  You can tell me it was gas all you want, but I'll forever believe that in that precious moment Declan was telling me he knew how hard I had prayed to be his mother.

God is good.  Really, really good.

World Changer

My mom posted this video to Facebook.  It's worth a few minutes of your day if you're a woman, know women, have a daughter, a mother, a sister...

But if ain't nobody got time for that - there's a part in the video where he talks about strong and courageous women in the bible.

He says,  "Esther, Ruth, Martha, Mary - These women changed the world forever.  And inside of each and every one of you is a woman with that same power, and that same strength, and that same world changing capability and your responsibility is to find that woman and to set that woman free."

I stopped for a second to consider what it means to be a world changer.

After all, these days, I'm a woman who can barely make it through the day with her emotions intact.  I'm huge and pregnant, tired and sore, achy and exhausted from 9 months of tossing and turning and 3 weeks of a toddler who is on sleep strike.

And it's more than that.  Since the day Todd & I got married, behind every nook and cranny, around every corner of our lives I feel like one or both of us have been putting out fires. Ministry, a blended family, raising children, unexpected pregnancy, pregnancy loss, pregnancy after loss, financial stress, personal tragedy, family tragedy - at times I feel like life will not let up.  Like God will not let up.  I know pretty much anyone reading right now can identify.  We are no different than you.  Ever hear about spiritual warfare?  Some days I feel like Satan has an arrow pointed directly at us.

With all that going on - how can I be a world changer?

And then I remembered two stories - I remembered two moments in my life where I felt God speaking directly to me.

I'm not the kind of person who has those types 'interactions' with God.  I have faith and I work on my relationship with Him - but I'm not having experiences where I HEAR him very often.  So these have stuck with me.  The first involves sitting in a church service and God whispering something to me that told me I was to marry Todd.  It's personal and it's not a story I share often but I knew Todd would be my husband from pretty early on in our dating relationship.  It actually even involves one of those world changing women from the bible that was mentioned earlier.

The other time was one night, not long after we'd gotten married.  Like I said - we've had a rocky go of it.  The beginning was tough.  I never believed in a fairy tale romance or wedding or life - I'm not that kind of girl - but I was not expecting the battle to be raging from the moment we said "I do".  And no lie - family tragedy occurred the night before our wedding.  So one night, I remember lying in bed crying out to God for relief, for understanding, wanting to know why.  (You guys see I do this a lot, right?)

I was confused.

He told me marrying Todd was the right thing to do.  So why were things so hard for us right from day one?

I have since learned that very rarely is doing the right thing the easy thing.

But on that night, God made something very clear to me about marriage.  Anyone reading this that has been married for a long time will probably already know it.  But it was a revelation of sorts to me.

He told me that marriage was not designed to make me happy.  Marriage was given to us because it's one of the most perfect ways to learn to become like Jesus.  My job as a wife and mother would be to mirror Jesus in my day to day dealings with my husband and with my children.  To view these precious gifts from God the way that He does.  Unconditionally loving, patient, understanding, and unbelievably filled with grace.

CS Lewis said, "To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you"

This has been a challenge that I have remembered OFTEN in my marriage.  To look across the dinner table at the faces that join me there and see them just like Jesus does.

I promise I haven't gotten off on a tangent here.  What I'm trying to say is - that right now, in this season of life - my ability to be a world changer happens right here, in my home.  It happens at the dinner table, in the car with my kids, in late night conversations with my husband.  It starts with hugs and kisses and smiles and reassurance that these people who share my life are loved by me, imperfections and all.

Am I perfect at this?  No.  Am I even good at it?  Probably not.  No one ever said being like Jesus was easy.  And it's not.  But it IS something I remember often and try to put into practice as much as possible.  To change MY world - the little world inside my four walls - as best I can.  And as a result, these people that I pour into on a daily basis can take that outside these four walls and start a domino effect that just might change the world.

So if being a 'world changer' overwhelms you, start with a spouse.  A child.  A friend.  Pour into them, see them as Jesus would.  Change your heart and it WILL change the world.

Protection

(Yes, that is me on the bottom left - younger, thinner, tanner, blonder.  Heh.)

 I'm the oldest of four.  I have 2 younger sisters and a younger brother - and my brother was born with multiple medical issues.  I won't get into them all here because they are complicated, and even after 30 years of being his sister I'm not sure I understand them all but I will tell you this - he had brain tumors and has been through multiple brain surgeries.  He dealt with seizures for most of his childhood.  Behavioral and impulse control problems resulted because of the tumors, surgeries and endless medications.

As a child, I remember our house almost always being in a state of emergency.  My brother was, in many ways, a normal highly spirited and impulsive little guy.  But a lot of that impulsivity was exacerbated by his condition.  Sometimes I'm not sure how my parents made it through those years.

We have legendary stories to tell about my brother, but this is one that always strikes me. I think he was maybe 3 or 4 years old and disappeared one afternoon.  This was pretty common - he was a magician at finding ways to sneak out of the house and take off from a very young age.

On this day, my Mother got into our car to head out and look for him.

In the city we lived in at the time, there was a busy intersection at the bottom of a big hill.  And when I say big, I mean BIG hill.  It was a 4 way stop, 2 lanes at each light - heading into a busy shopping center.  She recounts her experience of sitting at the stop light, waiting for the light to turn green so she could head into the shopping center to look for him.  I believe it was around rush hour, because she tells of how busy the intersection was.  Cars whizzing by, constant movement.  As she sat there, she noticed in the rear view mirror a blur coming down the hill that was my little brother.  Perched on his big wheel, and completely oblivious to the absolute danger that awaited him, he went careening down this hill full speed towards a busy intersection during rush hour traffic.

I can't even BEGIN to fathom how her emotions took over at that moment.  I can almost feel the dread in my own stomach as I think of one of my little ones heading full speed ahead towards such obvious danger and destruction.  As she sat in her car, panicked, stuck in traffic and unable to stop the tragedy that she was sure was to unfold, I'm sure she could do nothing but pray.

The second my brother hit the intersection, it was as if time stood still.  The road fell silent and cars seemed to vanish.  No cars whizzing through the lights, no cars turning into the shopping center.  Just a happy, oblivious little 4 year old boy on a big wheel flying through at break neck speed.  He made it through that intersection without a scratch and as soon as he hit the sidewalk on the other side, my Mom will say how almost immediately traffic picked back up and cars began whizzing down the road again.

I think of that story often - the way he was protected as he unknowingly careened towards what should have resulted in certain death or at least severe injury.  I think of our Heavenly Father looking over him at that moment - seeing my Mother in the car, fear grasping her heart.  I think of Him casting a tunnel of protection over my little brother in the moment he flew through that busy intersection, keeping him safe.

I wonder to myself how many times I have been like that oblivious little boy on a big wheel - without knowledge of what certain destruction was waiting for me.  I wonder how many times my Heavenly Father cast a tunnel of protection around me and let me fly gleefully through what should have been a terrifying and devastating moment.

It is easy to focus on the moments we know went wrong.  It's easy to be angry over things we KNOW caused us pain and despair and tragedy.  Those are tangible, in your face experiences.  I, like so many of you, find myself crying out to God demanding to know WHY He put me in this place.  I want to know WHY He wasn't there to protect me from it.

But the truth is, I am sure He has been there countless times before when I had no idea.  Deep down, I know He is always there, always with me. I will probably never know just how many times he paused life around me and let me experience happiness and pure oblivion.

T. D. Jakes once said, “That thing that is not coming to you may seem good. But either the timing is wrong, or from His position He can see that the future of it is bleak. I have always believed that people who thank God only for delivering them from what happened are just scraping the surface of praise. The real praise comes when you start thanking Him for what could have happened but didn’t because of His swift grace!"

Today, I choose to praise God for his unending grace, love and protection.  I have no doubt it has been rained down upon me in moments that I was completely and utterly unaware.  

Measuring Grief

Yesterday, I got a 5:45 am wake up call from Beckett.  It was a long but productive day, ending with a much much needed night out with a friend where we gorged on bad for us food and shared good, encouraging conversation.  These days, I have to all out exhaust my body in order to get more than 2 hours of consecutive sleep.

I woke up only once last night to use the bathroom, a far cry from the standard 5-8 times.  And when Beckett awoke a little after 7, I opened my eyes and felt dread.  A pit in my stomach.  Nauseous.  Something was wrong, I knew it.  I couldn't figure out how I'd slept so hard all night, not noticing the usual Declan kicks.  I laid still in my bed, willing him to move but felt nothing.  I felt very very NOT pregnant.

I actually had to reach down and make sure my belly was still there.  This is ridiculous - if you've seen me in person, there's no denying that belly.  It's growing at a rapid pace and even if something was wrong with Declan, the belly doesn't disappear overnight.

But I woke up with fear in my heart and absolute panic.  After laying there for about 20 minutes, I finally felt him move.  Relief flooded my body and I felt like I could breathe again.

Those of us who have experienced pregnancy loss dance around our grief, almost feeling as though we don't deserve to be sad.  There are those who lost babies early in pregnancy - who apologize for feeling sad over a baby who was lost at 4 or 5 weeks.  And then there's my category - 2nd trimester losses...some of us forced to experience labor, some of us not - and we apologize because we can't imagine going through it in the 3rd trimester.  And then there are the women who give birth to stillborn babies at 35 weeks, at 39 or at 41.  Tragic yes, but there are apologies for sadness because they can't imagine what it must be like to lose an older child.

Why do we measure our grief?  We would never say to someone newly engaged - "Congratulations on your engagement, but try not to be quite so happy ok?  Because Lucy up the street got a much bigger diamond ring than you did.  SHE'S the one who really deserves to celebrate.  Your little ring is ok, and worth some celebration - but move on quickly and let Lucy live it up."

We don't do that, because it would be ridiculous.  Don't get me wrong, I fully believe that there are losses that hurt far worse than others.  I have no doubt that if I'd given birth to my baby girl and lost her at 40 weeks, it would have been a much more devastating experience.  However, it doesn't change the grief I felt and still feel over her not being here now.   When we were at the beach last month, almost a year to the day we found out we were pregnant with her, I thought of how we should be driving in the car with another child in the backseat.

Todd shared this video on his Facebook page a few days ago.  It's the story of friends of his, who lost their baby boy at 18 weeks.  Watch it.  Even if it makes you uncomfortable.  It needs to be watched, their story needs to be told and their baby deserves to be remembered.  Pregnancy loss, miscarriage - it's a subject rarely talked about.  I was shocked at the number of messages I received after our loss from women who have been through it.  Overwhelmed at the number of families who have been affected by this, because I just never knew.  Statistics say 1 in 4 women experience a loss.  I have to wonder if it's even higher than that.

It's easy to think you know what a grieving family or mother might feel or need after the loss of a child.  And each person/situation is different.  But the more we talk about it, the more we allow ourselves to truly grieve ALONGSIDE someone else, the more Christ focused, real and intimate our relationships become.  So again, I encourage you to watch.  Even if you cry, which you probably will.  So much of this story is my story, and the story of so many other women.  I'm grateful to Sarah and her family for being brave enough to share it.


Matthew: The Story Of Sarah Henderson from Renovatus Video on Vimeo.

Beckett's Announcement

Beckett's making the big announcement!

The littlest of brothers will be Declan McKay Hahn.  

Declan means "man of goodness, man of prayer."  McKay is my mother's maiden name and I'm excited to pass it along to one of my children.

We love you little boy!  You are already kicking me so much and with such force, even the doctor remarked about it at today's appointment.  I have a feeling I'm going to have my hands full!  Blessed to be reminded of the healthy and strong life growing inside of me.  Can't wait to meet our little guy in 88(ish!) days.

Highlight Reel

During our recent vacation to Oak Island, I posted this picture on Facebook and Instagram:

My caption was: "We put the kid down early."  I think it was around 6:30.

I mean look at us!  Don't we look like the absolute picture of beachy calmness? Big smiles, beachy waves in my hair.  We got a lot of comments on this picture - a lot of nice, positive comments about how great we look, what a great time we must be having - even some people expressing jealousy that Beckett was in bed so early.

There's a quote floating around from pastor Steven Furtick that I felt compelled to share after reading through the comments on the picture.

“The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else’s highlight reel.” 

So here's my truth telling for the day:

Beckett at the beach was EXHAUSTING.  He never stopped, never sat, never played in the sand.  He ran everywhere.  He runs FAST.  He had no fear of the ocean and was very ticked off to be told he had to hold our hands in the water.  He threw a lot of tantrums.  He didn't nap that day.  I can't fully remember, BUT I imagine the reason we put him to bed early that night was not only because he was overtired but probably because we were snapping at each other.  

If you could walk into the house behind us in the picture, you would hear a screaming toddler none too pleased to be in a Pack n Play bed, in a strange bedroom, in a strange house, in a strange city.  

We were exhausted in this picture.  And crabby.

But it was vacation, and we had saved and planned since last year for this vacation and by gosh, we were going to enjoy it.  And besides, what person has the nerve to get on Facebook and complain about being at the beach?  I certainly wasn't about to.  Because I knew we actually were blessed to be able to be there, despite the overwhelming amount of days that included temper tantrums and exhausting beach outings.  

However, the perception of this picture is completely and utterly different than the reality.

It was a learning lesson for me - not that I felt like I shouldn't have posted the picture, or that I should have posted a picture of Beckett screaming...but it made me realize how easy it is for us to feel badly about ourselves, our lives, and our kids if we just look at pretty social media pictures.  

I believe that social media IS a place for uplifting posts and happy pictures - honestly most of us don't want to see negativity every time we scroll through our news feed.  But it's so easy to get caught up in comparing ourselves to other people's highlight reels.  

We ALL have behind the scenes footage we'd rather not share.

So, next time you see a pretty picture on Facebook and assume the person in the photograph has an easier, better, happier life - remember the picture of my husband and I with the unseen screaming toddler in the background.