Today my sweet baby boy is one week old. I figured it was time that I write down his birth story so one day I'll be able to share it with him. So here goes...
On Thursday, March 26 at 37 weeks pregnant, we arrived at the hospital for my 6:00 AM induction. Of course it was a slow process of checking in (why they have you pre-register, I do not understand because I'm not sure it sped anything up). I believe it was around 7:45 AM by the time I was all hooked up and officially strapped to the IV pole. It was an extremely calm morning, and I was actually getting frustrated because I didn't feel as if I was making any progress. It showed I was having contractions, but it didn't feel like anything more than Braxton Hicks at the most.
Around 10 something my precious doctor came in and broke my water. I was only at 3 centimeters at this point which only made me more frustrated. However, the kids were there so for the most part I just chilled and took it all in. About 10:30 AM I felt my first contractions and had the kids leave the room with my mom. My sister and hubby stayed with me.
It's amazing how your body works because by 11:00 AM I was hurting so badly! I decided to forgo my natural childbirth plan and begged for an epidural. The nurse checked me at 11:10 AM, and I was at 4 centimeters. I remember looking at the clock and being so frustrated. I was in tears by this point because I was now "in line" for an epidural, but I did not have one. As I was crying and saying bad words through contractions (because I was in total control of myself, of course) I just felt something was wrong. I kept telling the nurse I wanted to push because it felt good, and she was telling me not to. I know she checked me somewhere in there because I remember her saying I was at an 8 and knowing that I wasn't going to get the epidural. This only upset me more realizing I was going to have to do this because I was sure I couldn't. (Not one of my prouder moments that day in the delivery room.)
By 11:30 I was ready to push as my doctor walked in. She got me focused enough to push and reminded me that I didn't really want an epidural anyway. I don't think she cared that I changed my mind in there. I'll never forget how casual it was. There was a room filled with people... most likely due to the fit I was having. Honestly, I have no idea who they were or where they came from, but they were there watching. My doctor just sat at the end of the bed. No crazy stirrups or lights. No blue surgery looking cover up thing. Some gloves and a mask thing that I had to wait for her to put on, and then she let me push. I pushed four times, and she laid my baby boy on stomach.
The mixture of emotions was overwhelming. He was here. He was okay. We had waited what felt like forever to know this. I was okay, too. And I felt such a relief of having him out of my body! (If you've pushed a baby out, you know this instant feeling of relief.)
This was an experience like no other. Not only was it fast and furious and oh so painful, but it was pretty amazing. I've never had a natural birth before so feeling everything was such a different experience. The labor itself, the pushing, all of it. There is something so primal and beautiful about it while in the same moment it's painful and agonizing. The human body is certainly amazing. And I will forever be grateful that God knew I needed that experience... I needed to feel those moments of pain, fear, and failure before He victoriously brought my son into this world and into my arms.
I have had the honor of loving two little boys and being a "mom" to them both. But there has been a longing in my heart to be the mother of a boy that I gave birth to. I had honestly given up that dream, and I was so satisfied with my three precious babies. I wrestled with the reason for this pregnancy, and I questioned God's plan more times than I believed in it.
As I look back, I see all of this was part of His plan. He saw fit that this pregnancy was viable when my heart wasn't in it. He put it on my heart not to find out the sex of this baby, which would have provided the answer to so many "whys" for me. He walked us through a valley of uncertainty with our baby's health. He made sure I felt the struggle. He made sure I had no where to go but to Him, even when He knew I didn't want to. Even when He knew it was the hardest thing for me to do.
On March 26 at 11:34 AM, I became the mother to a little boy weighing 5 lbs. 6 oz. measuring 18 1/2 inches long. A part of me that was missing, is now whole. Cooper Byron is my miracle... my redemption... my precious son. God did THAT!
A side note - Choosing a name for a baby whose sex is unknown was a difficult task for us. Many people have asked me what our name choices were since we kept a lot of things pretty hush hush.
For a girl we had it narrowed down to:
Georgia Rae
Sadie Rae
Clara Rae
(Rae honoring my sister Rachel)
For a boy we had it narrowed down to:
Tripp Byron
Hayes Byron
Cooper Byron
In the end, we chose Cooper Byron. We knew we wanted to honor my father by using his name as the middle name. Then we looked at our family and who we are in this season of life. When we described ourselves we came up with the words: Jesus, Gymnastics, and Baseball. So it only seemed right that we chose Cooper taken from Cooperstown where the Baseball Hall of Fame resides. We love our Mini Coop :)
So Hubs and I decided that we'd have a theme for this year. A key word and a Bible verse to really place our focus on this year. The word part was easy. We chose BRAVE! This word really encompassed all that we wanted to accomplish this year for ourselves and our children.
Brave can really look so many different ways. For our family, who really cherishes our comfort zone, this is a challenge to push us beyond that point of comfort into change, progress, and growth. The kids have come up with great ideas about standing up for what they believe, sharing God's word with others, and being true to who they are. Little do they know, they are brave in so many ways. I am so excited to really point out these moments to them throughout the year and continue to build their confidence in themselves and their abilities. I feel sure they will take the brave theme and soar with it. They really are awesome kids like that!
For the Husband and I this will be harder. If you know us, you know how introverted Hubby is. This in turn makes me appear to be the extrovert. And I guess in the relationship, that would be accurate. The truth is I have many fears. I really don't like talking to people I don't know, I hate unknown situations, I get anxiety at the drop of a hat, I strongly fear rejection and upsetting others... well, you get the idea. I'm really sort of blah and probably should hide in my house forever. However, two people cannot function like that so we compensate and make do. I am hoping by hanging onto this brave thing that we can really embrace stepping out of what's comfortable and making some great strides as individuals and as a couple.
So like I said before, we wanted a word and a Bible verse. Choosing the word was a piece of cake. However, there just wasn't a verse that was really speaking to me. I should have known that walking into church today would be just what I needed. Our verse was right there! And even more astonishing, the message was exactly in line with being brave, only in a capacity we had yet to explore in our conversations. (God is funny like that.)
Today's message was about making 2015 the year you build your life around God instead of God around your life. Sounds good in theory, right?!? I mean, we all know this is what we are supposed to do. But how many of us, if we are truly honest with ourselves, are placing God in the center of our entire lives? Submitting to His will? Releasing control? Abandoning worry for faith? Hold on! Go back! Releasing control?!? Yeah, that's what I said! And then it hit me... having this uninhibited faith is an act of being brave for me! Pursing God in all aspects of my life (time, finances, relationships, the steps I choose to take) takes so much bravery for me! Because if I'm really honest with myself, it's scary to tithe when you aren't sure if there will be enough at the end of the month without giving that 10%. It's scary to branch out to meet new people to walk on this journey with. It's scary to release control in the decisions I make in life, and completely and utterly trust in God to guide me. I thought I was doing some of this... but today I realized I'm really still hanging on to me being in charge in so many ways. Am I brave enough to let go?!?
The last thing I wrote in my notebook today were words from our Pastor John Stickl... "The passion you pursue Him with reveals the value you believe He is worth." We all need an ah-ha moment, and today that was mine! This year, I will be brave enough to let go and pursue God in a way I never have before. And I hope that you, my sweet friends, will not only join me but hold me accountable.
Our Word: Brave
Our Verse: "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart."
- Jeremiah 29:13
The Husband and I have been together for eight years (on New Year's Day). Only two (and some months) of that have we actually been married. Those who know our story, know that we rode a roller coaster that should never be ridden before finally getting off at the marriage stop. We went through things that end friendships, relationships, and marriages. It wasn't always easy. Many days (weeks and months) were touch and go. Needless to say, we survived it, and we haven't killed each other yet.
Knowing the crazy we've been through it always takes me by surprise when couples reach out to us for support and advice. This happens quite often. Part of me wants to shout from the rooftops, "We are the total wrong people to ask! We clearly have no idea what we are doing! Have you watched these last eight years!?!" Then another part of me feels like we have so much to offer because we have survived the world of betrayal, deceit, hurt, and the hardest... forgiveness.
However, our solution is not one everyone is ready and willing to make. It has been one of (painful at times) personal growth, and it has been such an overwhelming spiritual journey for us both. But I have been feeling very called to write this blog lately as so many people in our lives seem to need to hear our journey.
I want to preface this by saying, that not all relationships are "meant to be". I do not condone abuse or mistreatment. If you are not married, and these are issues you are facing then I will always recommend getting out. I also want to say that I believe in marriage. If you have made the commitment to be married, I believe that both parties should be committed to making it work. If they are not, then my experience will not be helpful. My personal experience is of two people who were willing to put in the work, and quite frankly, too prideful to give up. But at no time in our journey have either of us put the other one in any physical danger. This is simply something that requires professional help.
The Husband and I met in a single parents group. We began talking and getting to know each other. It seemed there was some interest on both parts after hanging out. So we kicked our relationship off with a bang. Eight years ago, on New Year's Eve, I went to work and Hubs went out with some of our other single parent friends. He kissed another girl at midnight, and then asked me on a date the next day. There was no real commitment so I ignored the red flags and let it slide. We decided on New Year's Day to be a couple. That same day we both left our date to plans we had already made with our exes. He headed off to ski, and I headed to Oklahoma. So here we are, one day into this "relationship" and we both were not exactly faithful on these trips. What a way to start things off, huh?!?
This set the preface for the next stage in our relationship. A lot of secrets, lies, dating other people, hurting each other, and always always always coming back together for more of the same torture. I wish I had a real answer as to why we continued this pattern, and even more so, I wish I had an answer for why we kept trying. It was so frustrating and confusing at the time. I honestly felt like my heart was betraying me by loving him. In all honesty, I wouldn't recommend that ANYONE stay in a situation like this. It was detrimental to both of us emotionally, and the healing process took a long time. After all, trust is not easily rebuilt.
I know it sounds like this was a complete tortuous time for us. So I hope it goes without saying that in between all of this we had so many good times. It's hard to leave when the good is REALLY GOOD.
To complicate things even more we had children involved that we loved dearly. To walk away would have hurt so many. So one day we decided that leaving wasn't an option. We knew something had to change so we started in the places we knew how. We took leaving off the table. It was no longer an option. However, we couldn't continue to function in the selfish ways we were both so accustomed. It simply wasn't fair to anyone involved. I don't think either of us really knew what we were doing or what we even needed to do. But we sure weren't quitting.
Now, when you get to the point that you are wide open and ready for change but you really aren't sure where to go it's like God gets so giddy up there in Heaven. Both separately and together God took opportunities to reach into our open hearts. And I swear to you the transformation was visible not only to us but to others around us. Through His work we both realized that it was no longer about us. He focused our attention to Him and we began to seek His plan for us and our family.
I'll be honest, we are still new at this whole putting God first thing. We are only a few years in, and it's hard! Old habits aren't easy to kick, and there are times it's so easy to fall back into spewing hateful words or belittling each other. I do have to admit, Hubby is much better than I am at maintaining his focus. I'm always quicker to anger or just become irritated. (Husband has the patience of a saint.) But the complete dynamic of our relationship is different.
I know that not everyone is ready to hand their relationship over to God. I'm a complete control freak so I get it! It's hard to say, "Here God, I know you've got this." But it's really the only answer I have to how Husband and I have become "that couple". There is security in being loved by a man who loves God more than he loves me. There is comfort in being in a marriage where you know you are being prayed for every single day. And there is complete and utter bliss in knowing and believing from the bottom of my heart that when we decided leaving was no longer an option, that it now means for eternity. I literally will spend FOREVER with my husband. That totally blows my mind! (And it's probably a good thing I have so long to get it right.)
I can suggest making your relationship a priority over your kids. I can suggest date nights, love notes, sweet texts, and making sex a priority. Those are all things that I believe in 110%. But those aren't the reason my marriage is what it is. Those are just the bonuses!
So at the end of the day here is my advice... if you are single, establish your relationship with God. Seek a Godly man, and do not waiver in this. (It's much easier to start on the right track.) If you are in a relationship, make a commitment to make God your priority. It can start off as simple as attending church together. Baby steps are still steps. And if you are married... it's hard. Marriage is so hard. So you have to work even harder. Seek help from a trusted friend or counselor who is also a believer. Pray for your marriage and ask others to also. But making this change where your relationship is God centered is an absolute priority. Your marriage is your ministry. Nurture it as such.
Hubby and I are always honored to pray for your relationship or marriage. We hope that we can serve as a Godly couple in your life as these relationships are important to have. If there is something we can do, please let us know.
"Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken." - Ecclesiastes 4:12
The first time I remember wanting to kill myself was in fifth grade. Looking back, this was when I remember my depression beginning. It was not instigated by any life event. It was something I was simply born with. In fact, hearing accounts of how I was as a child, I believe that I always displayed certain characteristics of this. What my parents saw as a strong personality, I believe, was actually mental illness that had not yet manifested into anything identifiable.
I remember writing, "I wish I was dead." I remember nothing else written on that paper, but I remember writing those words and putting it in my desk. I had been placed in a class with none of my "friends" that year. I had the teacher I wanted, but none of my friends were in my class. On top of that my friends were making fun of the kids I was in class with (who are all remarkable people, might I add). It was devastating for me at the time. I felt alone. The jokes, while meant to be harmful, made me feel embarrassed. I hate being embarrassed.
That year was rough for me. I decided to quit gymnastics after my Level 8 season. I knew it was what I wanted to do, but I struggled with the fact that it was really all I knew, it was what people identified me with, and I didn't want to disappoint my dad (a feeling I placed on myself).
I began middle school. For most of us this is a time of ups and downs. It's an awkward stage. I had friends, I had boyfriends, I was liked. Many people who knew me then would probably say that I had no grounds for being "depressed". I wholeheartedly agree. This is how I know that my depression is something deeply engrained in me.
As time went on and the roller coaster of my emotions went with it, my family suffered greatly at my expense. I was angry. Mean angry. I said mean things to my parents and my sister. They were my safe place. The safe place I tried to destroy.
In high school, I once again had the life that most girls would dream of. I had friends. I made varsity cheerleader as a freshman. I got the car I wanted. I had the boyfriend I wanted. My emotions would rise and fall despite these things. My boyfriend would just become another landing place for my ups and downs. He was the rock in my storm.
The summer before my junior year, I found out I would be moving. A an unstable girl who doesn't like change. This was a recipe for disaster.
Like most high school relationships, mine ended. Not because I was moving, but because I was a walking emotional disaster. At 17 and 18 you can only take so much of that before you reach your breaking point. He reached his, rightfully so.
The day the relationship ended I cut my wrists. I was not trying to kill myself. Simply numbing the emotional pain. I had one friend reach out to me at this time because by this point the rest were no longer interested in the mess I was. Again, rightfully so. The next day, I moved to Texas.
If it's possibly to not feel anything yet feel everything in a terrifying intensely way, this was how you would describe how I spent the next several months. I did not want to go to a new school. My parents agreed to homeschool me. I wanted to go back to Oklahoma so I spent a lot of time back and forth between the two places. I replaced the old boyfriend with our mutual best friend. Not to hurt him, but to feel a sense of normalcy and connection. It backfired. It was undoubtedly the most toxic relationship I have been in. I lost one of my dearest friends because of it, and many others along the way.
As I continued to search for a new safe place... a new sense of security... I took down everyone in my path. I cheated on my boyfriend with my friend's boyfriend. I said mean things to people. I acted out. I deliberately hurt others. I was out of control. Not because I wanted to be. I hated who I was. It was like this life was happening around me. My body was participating, but my mind was crying for help... begging for someone to notice what a mess I was. Hoping for one of those friends who used to care to stop and say, "Let me help you. Let me love you." It never happened. And for many years I was angry with the people who used to be my friends. It took me a long time to realize that those expectations were too high to place on teenagers.
I went off to college hoping for a fresh start. I was excited to go through Rush and felt like it was finally my chance to start over and make new friends. I was sure I would do it right this time since I had learned so much from my mistakes. Well, word gets around that you are a hot mess, and no one wanted me in their sorority. In the thirty years I have been alive, I have never felt pain or rejection like that. It was heartbreaking.
So here I was, at this new place, four hours away from home. ALONE. I ate every meal from a deli right by my dorm because I could bring it back up to my room. If I was eating alone, at least I wouldn't have to look pathetic doing so. I kept to myself until low and behold, I got a phone call from a kid who had heard my name be called during the roll in Freshman Comp. We began to hang out, and it wasn't long before we were in a relationship. I was no longer alone, and that felt good. In time, I also made friends with other girls in my dorm. Insanely wonderful and beautiful people. Things were looking up for awhile.
However, when you suffer from depression you have your highs and lows. I still had a past that was haunting me around every corner. And I wasn't really happy with the boy from Freshman Comp. But I liked feeling wanted so I stayed. I stayed just long enough to get pregnant my Sophomore year of college. Devastated, I moved home that summer.
After having Lexie, I did well for a long time. I poured myself into being a mother. I was good at it. I was needed. It allowed me to not have to deal with the emotions and heartaches I'd left behind the years before. But life has a funny way of throwing curve balls at you, and once again I found myself in another toxic relationship.
When that relationship ended, I swallowed 21 Tylenol. There is nothing quite as humbling as having your stomach pumped. I was 23 years old, and I had been a complete disaster since I was 10. I'd like to say that this was rock bottom. And in some ways it was. I have never tried anything so drastic again, but depression continues to haunt me.
I have been on medications. They made me less angry and generally more tolerable to the people around me. But they have never been a permanent fix. The fix that lets me feel like every other person. The type of person who has bad days for a reason, not just because they woke up feeling wrong.
I am proud to say that I have been medication free for a few years now. I know that this is entirely due to my children, my husband, and my gracious and loving God.
My children need me to be whole. And for the most part, this is enough of a reminder to get me back on track on the days that I cannot physically make myself get out of bed. Their unconditional love sparks something in me that literally makes my lows last for shorter periods of time than they ever did before.
My husband has been my saving grace. I've loved two men in my life, and I think I fell in love with them both for the same reason.... they "get" me. Where my husband wins the prize in "getting me" is that he knows how to manage my highs and lows instead of just trying to manage me. Sometimes that is a beautiful picture of him picking up my slack or him drying my tears. Other times, it is a more chaotic scene which would scare small children. Regardless, he knows where I am (usually before I do), and he meets me there. He carries me when I need it, and he loves me through it. His presence is cathartic for me, even when he is the object of my unwarranted rage. It baffles me each and every day that he chooses day after day (and he has for over 6 years) to love me anyway. He says he fell in love with me because he knew it would never get boring... I think he's just slightly crazy!
Forgiveness... something that took me so long to actually understand. Something God had given me before I allowed myself to receive it. Can you believe that over 20 years of hurting myself and others, and it has only been in this last year that I've allowed myself to come to the foot of the cross with my sins?!? All this while, God has been graciously loving me and waiting for me. And when I arrived I was greeted with the most indescribable sense of peace. He believed that I deserved His forgiveness long before I ever could convince myself of that. My relationship with my Heavenly Father provides me constant healing. I see Him work through my children and husband, and I see Him work directly through me. He is my eternal safe place.
I write this all with little emotion. It's choppy and written as it comes to me. That very much resembles my journey with this disease. I think 20 years of pain is enough. I am forever sorry to those whose path crossed mine in a negative way the past 20 years. I have been a complete mess for a lot of it, and no one has deserved the negative effects they received from me. This will forever break my heart. And I repeatedly have to remind myself that I deserve forgiveness for these things.
There is an upside to every story. With my depression, comes deep emotion. While I get my feelings hurt easily, I also love deeply and passionately. I may be quick to anger, but I'm also loyal to a fault and quick to defend those who need defending. While I may not let you know you hurt me, I will no longer hurt you back. I will cover us both in prayer.
I am in a constant battle with myself. I will live the rest of my life this way. It is the way God made me. I am doing it the best I can. I am proud to say that for the past four years, I've been kicking depression's butt. I know many others have their own story with this disease. This is mine. This is my truth. This is ME.
*I apologize for any typos. This is one of those things that I have written and will never read.
... And nothing but the truth!
The past month I have repeatedly crossed paths with people telling lies or half-truths. You know, the kind where they tell part of something that's true, and maybe it goes with the story they are telling, but may be it's not related in any way at all. Or maybe part of what they said happened, but they have exaggerated it to make themselves look better or others look incompetent.
Anyone who knows me, knows that this does not settle well with me. Lies and stealing are my two bugga-boos! Yep, they just make me crazy mad because they are two things I absolutely positively just do not understand!
I'm not talking about little white lies like telling a co-worker, "Oh what a cute new hair cut" when really you don't like it. While I would choose not to say anything at all, I am (ironically) okay with things like this because I believe it builds others up. And building others up is always good!
It's the misrepresentation of ones self or others that absolutely drives me batty, and that is exactly what I have been running across lately. Who knew that would be the case with adults. It was so bad with one adult I knew, I un-friended them on Facebook. (I feel like a 13 year old girl writing that out, but it's the truth!) I could no longer take the half truths or the blatant misinformation they spewed from their lips. It was becoming increasingly hard not to call them out on this so I chose to just "delete". (Yes, big step for me... I'm a girl who does not usually hesitate to confront!)
I think the worst offenders of this are moms. In our constant effort to compete with one another it seems we fall into two extremes. The mom's who want to appear as if they are on top of their game 110% of the time and the mom's who try want to appear as if they are a hot mess. Both types are rather trendy right now! And if we are all being honest, we probably fall somewhere in between that mix on any given day (or from hour to hour). I know I do, and if we are friends on Facebook you watch that crazy cycle of our lives play out! I guess I just find it really upsetting that as adults, we are struggling with honesty. What is so wrong with being who we are and putting that out there for the world to see?
God worked so hard on each and every one of us! When we spread untruths, whether about ourselves or others, we are not glorifying His handiwork. We are not building each other up. We are breaking down the very foundation upon which we stand! We are all His children, we are all part of the same community. We owe it to ourselves to work, share, and encourage in a way that is honest and pure!
The
other day, my nine year old son and I were having a conversation about
someone who was misrepresenting (and lying about) some things. He said
to me, "She just says that stuff so people will like her." Wow! Slap
in the face! He was right! It is so easy to get wrapped up in how people view us that we forget to worry about how we view ourselves, and more important, how God is viewing us!
The truth is not always easy! We all struggle with it from time to time. And sometimes the truth makes us look really bad. But I've found it's always easier to lay your head down at night when you have not misrepresented yourself or others.
"Lying lips are abomination to the LORD: but they that deal truly are his delight." -Proverbs 12:22
"If you don't check your baggage at the foot of the cross, the enemy will deliver it to your doorstep one day." When Vicki Courtney spoke those words at the dotMOM Conference this past February, I knew what my baggage was. I knew it was baggage that had already been delivered and unpacked as if it were here to stay. But hearing her say it out loud was just what I needed to realize it was time to pack my baggage up and send it straight to the foot of the cross.
Throughout the conference a common theme kept rearing it's ugly head. "Share your struggles." "Open up about who YOU are." "Be transparent." I talked to my husband about this when I got back, and we decided that maybe it would help in my process of healing as well as maybe helping someone else out there. (So this will be the first of probably many very personal blog posts.) I knew that at some point the time would come to share my story, and this past week right in my face Single Dad Laughing posted a blog that one again said, "Okay Jessica, it's time to share."
So here I am. Wide open. Transparent. In a place that I really don't feel comfortable being. All in the name of healing and hoping that my words may lead others to accept their imperfections and embrace Jesus.
I have given birth to two children, ages 9 and 3. I have been a wife for 6 months. "What's that you say?!?" "You had children out of wedlock." Not a second thought for many, but a "mistake" in my family which equaled gut wrenching guilt for me. My parents were virgins when they got married. This was common knowledge. So at 16 when I began having sex, I can say without a doubt that my actions were a disappointment.
From these little tid bits of information you can gather on your own that I had sex more times than I "should" have before I was married. For me it started with a first love, carried on through surviving depression (an entire blog will have to be dedicated to that battle), and ended with marrying my husband.
For almost 14 years, I had sex. For almost 14 years, I felt guilt after each and every time. I had not been raised this way. This was not what I believed was okay in my heart. Sure, it made me temporarily feel better... wanted... beautiful... important... successful... you get the idea. (No, I don't have Daddy Issues. I have Mental Illness Issues.) But it always ended in guilt.
Naturally I assumed that when I married my husband these feelings of guilt would go away. Then I would be able to have great sex and not feel guilty about it! I was so excited for this because I couldn't stand the guilt. And I'm sure my husband (then boyfriend/fiance) couldn't stand the conversations of how "we shouldn't be doing this" the morning after what he perceived to be (and what really was) a great night.
When I got married these feelings did not go away. It was awful. Here I was married to the most wonderful man. A man who adores me. And I feel guilty about making love to my husband. I knew then that my issues were bigger than just "needing to be married". I had 14 years of guilt that I had not gotten on my knees and begged for forgiveness for.
As this awakening happened, I began realizing that it was going to take me sucking it up and going to God. It was also going to take me saying a big ol', "I was wrong, God." And well, that was hard for me. The thought of my past and all I had to be forgiven for seemed overwhelming. A lot of sexual immorality can happen in 14 years, and just thinking of it would make my eyes fill with tears and regret. But I knew that a time was coming when I would have to face it. My husband deserved all of me, and my Jesus certainly deserved all of me. Neither one of them was getting 100% from me, and that was all because of a barrier I was creating in those relationships.
I really never expected the dotMOM Conference would be life changing for me. I expected to learn new things, and I did. I expected to be inspired, and I was. But I didn't expect to be a blubbering, crying mess, with my arms in the air, begging Jesus to forgive me. And that's what I was. (And I'm not a pretty crier.) I had heard Vicki Courtney speak, and it was like it all just opened up for me. It all made sense. It was my time for forgiveness. Then I was blessed to hear Blake and Ronique Wilson speak on Sex and Marriage (at the same conference), and I learned so much about who I was created to be as my husband's sexual partner and how that is all blessed by God. Yes, God placed me right where He knew I needed to be that weekend.
I can honestly say, I have never felt so free in my entire life. And that feeling has continued from that day forward. I no longer feel as if I don't belong in a church. I no longer feel that I have nothing to offer my husband, and that I have given the best parts of me away. I no longer feel worthless and shamed. (All feelings I placed on myself.) I now look at myself and feel worthy and proud of who I am. I know that my faith has never been so strong and unwavering. And with my husband... well, I will always wish he was my first and only lover. But our relationship is so much deeper and more intimate now. I no longer keep him at arms length, and this crazy thing has happened... EVERY TIME after we make love, I pray and thank God for allowing us to have that time and that intimacy together. It may sound strange, but words of thankfulness just flow from my heart because I know what a blessing it is.
I still look at people who have casual sex (not in relationships at all) and wonder how it never bothers them. Why was this something that weighed so heavy on my heart and made me feel unworthy of sitting in the church pews when others could do it without a second l thought? That part, I still don't know. Maybe I never will. Lucky them?!? Maybe... But I'm thankful for the heaviness it weighed on my heart because that redemption brought me closer to my Heavenly Father.
Jesus carried my baggage to the cross. I'm not sure why I went and picked it back up. Nor am I sure of why it took me so long to return it. But He's got it from here.
Recently I attended the dotMom conference when it came to Frisco, TX. It was an amazingly powerful weekend that shook my faith to it's core. It challenged me as a mother, a wife, and more importantly as a Christian. I have spent the last few weeks trying to sort through all I learned and apply it in my everyday life because I was that moved... that changed.
One of the many messages that really resonated with me over the weekend of the conference was that the most important ministry I will ever be a part of is the one in my home. Wow! I just hate it when the obvious jumps out at me and slaps me in the face!
I think back to all the places I've volunteered. All the places where I've devoted time in nourishing others souls... other children to be exact. And then I look at what is happening in my home. My children see me read my Bible. We talk about Bible verses and memorize them, but not as often as we should. We listen exclusively to Christian music in the car. I try to deliver discipline with a healthy dose of scripture to back it up. I'm doing a good job, right?!?
Then it hit me. I am not doing a good job. I'm probably not even doing a mediocre job. Tonight as I was sharing the story of Jesus' death with my children I realized that I am completely inadequate for this most important of ministries. I do not know enough about the Bible, I do not even know how to pronounce all the words correctly, I do not know if my words are what my children are needing to hear, I do not know if my chaotic prayers leave them feeling refreshed or throwing up their own little shout out to God with something to the effect of, "Sorry about our Mom, God. She's kind of a hot mess." There is just so much I don't know.
And for me that is a scary place to be. Because I want so badly for my children to know God. I want for them to be in a home where praying is as natural as breathing, where scripture fills their hearts... a place where they follow Jesus with reckless abandon! It's just hard for me to believe that God really thinks I'm the right girl for this job. My children, my husband, they deserve someone so much more qualified than crazy ol' me who is still trying to figure it all out.
Inadequate and unqualified for this job, I certainly am. Filled with desire to do more, know more, understand more, well, I am that as well. God entrusted me with His precious children during their time on earth for a reason. So I'll keep praying my chaotic prayers, and I'll keep opening my Bible with a desperate longing to know more. Something tells me I'll never really be qualified for this important ministry I've been entrusted with. Thank goodness God has my back in case I go and screw it all up!
I always imagined I'd be the girl who would blog about every step of planning my wedding. I'd share the intricate details about choosing the right florist and the struggles of finding a dress. I would capture these moments so they would stay close in my heart forever. Then on bad days, I could look back and remember all the joy that went into planning my wedding and the blissful feelings I had as I prepared to marry Mr. Joshua Marick.
Then we started planning. And it was hard. And it was messy. And in the end it was a beautifully perfect testimony of God's presence in our lives... my life to be more specific. So here is my account of planning the wedding of my dreams to the man of my dreams.
Josh proposed on New Year's Eve. Since our anniversary (dating) was on New Year's Day, it was the perfect way to finish off our 4th year together. We started our 5th year engaged! How super exciting!
Immediately the planning began. I knew right away that I wanted rustic chic feel to the wedding, and thanks to an episode of David Tutera, I wanted the reception to be in a barn. So I googled party barns, and found one I loved. Upon doing research about the place, I found out it was actually the venue used in the episode of David Tutera that had become my wedding inspiration! And that was my sign (because I'm big on signs), that this was meant to be. MD Resort in Aurora, TX would be my wedding venue.
I called and scheduled a meeting for us to go visit. It was a long drive and in the country. I questioned my decision for a split second. But then we arrived and we walked around and talked numbers, and well... it was all fitting together. Then we got to view the rooms at MD Resort. It is a Bed & Breakfast so each room has it's own little theme. We got to the suites and walked into the Western Vista. It was a two story suite that smelled like the Lake House my family had when I was growing up. Another sign. It was meant to be. At that moment, I knew all I had to do was convince Josh that this was what he wanted also. I mean, he couldn't really be set on the church wedding he'd always dreamed of, could he?!?
Because Josh is who he is, he had an opinion on things. And he needed to feel like his opinion was heard and mattered. So I listened and my heart started to slowly break. I didn't want to take away his dream wedding just so mine could happen. After all, I could make anything work. But then in true Josh fashion he goes, "Is this what you really want?" My hopeful eyes screamed "Yes! Yes! Yes!" at him, while I sheepishly said, "Yes. It really is." And he kissed me and agreed that MD Resort was the perfect place for our wedding! I was ecstatic!
MD Resort has a full kitchen and does their own catering. We could bring in all our own vendors except for food. And I had already told them all I wanted to do was rent the venue. I did not want any of their wedding packages because I had my own visions... I was a DIY bride! DIY could easily be replaced with crazy, but we won't go there right now. So back to the food, they were able to provide my rustic meal of brisket, loaded mashed potatoes, green beans, and rolls. We were set. So I thought...
Enter first problem. These people wanted money. Crazy, I know! Well, when you are planning a wedding and your family is on a huge budget (that's another story for another day) then you can't just write check after check without thinking and planning. And these budget problems seemed to be the trend for the remainder of the wedding planning.
So wedding planning started to become more and more stressful. There were wonderfully exciting moments, like finding my dress followed by more frustrating moments... the dress would have to wait. This pattern continued throughout the entire wedding planning process. Numerous nights I spent crying over the frustration I felt about it not coming easy, the way I always imagined. Then I would cry out of the guilt I felt for being so materialistic and wanting so many things that truly didn't matter as long as I married Josh. Then the road blocks began to feel more like signs. Perhaps this was God telling me not to marry Josh. Cue more tears. More confusion. And a lot more guilt.
But every time I wanted to give up and run to the Justice of the Peace something would work out. The pieces would start to fit together. The signs I thought pointed in the direction of running away and leaving Josh far behind me began to point straight to God's goodness.
Throughout this entire process my family and I saw firsthand the work of our good Lord. Sometimes it came in the form of our daily devotionals. Other times it was friends or family members. And for me, it was the constant reassurance from Josh. Never giving up. Never failing to hold me when I needed it. Never belittling my wedding dreams and the importance they held in my mind.
Eventually I began to see God's work for what it was, and I began to quit doubting His plan. Because as silly as it may seem, my wedding was important to God. Because I am important to God. I finally came to the realization one day that God was going to provide all we needed. But I had to stop doubting Him. I had to trust. And amazingly enough, once I did, the wedding planning became the blissful feeling I had hoped it would be from the beginning.
I know God's hand in my wedding was shown through the countless people who love Josh and I. It was shown more often than not through my parents selfless giving and sacrificing. It was shown through my sister, my aunt, my grandparents. All 120 people in attendance (and the others who weren't) had a hand in making it happen... they helped make the dreams of my wedding day come true in ways I never knew possible.
Needless to say, Josh and I are so very blessed. There aren't enough "thank you's" in the world that could possibly express the way we feel about everyone who made our dreams come true. Every single detail was just the way I wanted it. There was nothing in the world that could have made our day more perfect. Not even warmer weather... because that just added to our memory bank of the most spectacular day of our lives!
I am now that wife who thinks she has the most perfectly imperfect husband. I'm more in love with him than I ever knew possible. When I look back on planning our wedding it is not what I thought it would be. I don't see flower arrangements or interviews with vendors. I see love. An overwhelming, out of this world kind of love. And I see lessons... lessons in trusting God. Much needed lessons in patience. Lessons in sacrifice (thanks Mom & Dad).
I will forever be grateful to my parents for all that they did and all the sacrifices they made. The heartache they shared, the tears they wiped, and the absolute joys I was able to share with them. I will always hold close to me the moments of trying on my dress with the people I love right there beside me, praying with my dad on a particularly rough day, endless dress shopping with my mom (for my mom), and cramming crafts and wraps into the most crazy wonderful wedding week a girl could imagine!
This was my story of planning my wedding. My story of love. My story of dreams come true.
I can't wait to share the wedding day details with you!
I can't believe it! I'm getting married in 90 days! It may seem a little obsessive to count the days, but we have been together for over 5 1/2 years. And we've been discussing getting married for the majority of that time. Now that the timing is right to finally take a moment for ourselves, I couldn't be more excited!
You would think that anticipating this day for (literally) years would mean we have everything in order and know just what we want. Well, here we are... 90 days to go... and still so many decisions to be made! It seems overwhelming at times and blissfully fun at other times. I only hope that I can hang on to each and every moment as the process unfolds so that some day down the road as Josh and I sit in our front porch, watching our grandchildren play, we can look back and reminisce on the adventure that started it all!
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| Flower Girl Dress |
We have started our premarital counseling. (For lack of better words.) We have a wonderful mentor couple, and I feel we are well on our journey to a marriage that includes God, Josh, and myself. I am currently praying that I will be able to fulfill my role as an obedient and submissive wife, letting Josh lead our family. These will be true tests for me and will require daily prayer and guidance from God.
We know where the wedding is going to be and what theme we are going with! We have chosen my dress, invitations, flower girl dresses, and food! We have spent countless hours debating cakes, pies, decorations, attire, photographers, etc. Tonight we will tackle the final cake design (after baseball is over, of course). Follow me on Pinterest to see my rather chaotic obsession with pinning wedding ideas. You will also get an idea of the feel that we are taking with things! (Or you can visit our wedding website!)
It's never ceases to amaze me that I can spend hours thinking about wedding details and ideas. However, when I lay down at night all I can think about is how completely and utterly incredible it will be to finally be Mrs. Joshua Marick. The thought of waking up everyday, sharing every moment, and loving each other into eternity brings peace to my soul. And in those moments, I'm able to realize that it doesn't matter what shoes I wear or how I fix my hair... at the end of the day, I will be married to my best friend!
Father's Day is today. A day to celebrate the men, the fathers, in my life (and my children's lives) who make such a difference.
My dad. Byron Gilbert Dunn. A man with integrity and dignity. A man with pride, but the ability to put it aside when necessary. A man with a gracious and loving heart. A man who forgives. A man who loves unconditionally. A man who accepts everyone for who they are. A man who makes you laugh until you cry. A man who is always there to dry your tears. A man, who undoubtedly, has faith in God and is patient with His plans. A man to admire. A man to honor. The only man I'll ever need in my earthly life.
Josh. My love. My heart and soul. My best friend. For 3 years Father's Day was always bittersweet. It was a reminder of all the men in my daughter's life who loved her and supported her, but still lingering were thoughts of the man who was supposed to love her and be there for her that wasn't. And there is no pain quite like knowing your child is not loved in the way she should be by her father. Then came Josh. He loved my daughter. He treated her as his own. Her became her Daddy. And with that comes feelings that words cannot express. Just thinking about what Josh has done for her makes my throat tight and my heart full. Because of him, my sweet girl, has a Daddy. Her very own Daddy. A Daddy that will never leave her. A Daddy that will always love her. A Daddy that is teaching her what type of man she should allow to steal her heart one day. I can without a doubt say that the greatest gift God has given my daughter was bringing Josh into our lives. I have found immeasurable pleasure in seeing the father Josh has become to our three children over the last 5 1/2 years. He continues to grow in this journey of parenting, and there are three beautiful children who have reaped the rewards of his selfless efforts. I could not be more grateful for the front row seat God has given me to witness the relationship between my children and their Daddy.
My Granddaddy. Those who are lucky enough to know my grandfather know the great man that he is. A man of God who has been father, grandfather, mentor, and friend to many. As his favorite granddaughter, I have numerous memories and countless things to say about this great man. But what I want the world to know, is that my Granddaddy is the type of man that you meet and you are forever changed. After knowing him, you carry a piece of him in your heart that is with you always. Two daughters by birth, one who grew in his heart, seven grandchildren, and seven great-grandchildren... and I'm still his favorite. That's enough for me to know he's a darn good man! :)
The other men in my life and my children's lives. There are many men who make a difference in the life of my family. My Pa Bob. He is my dad's step-father, but we've never seen him as a "step" anything. He is our grandfather. He has loved us and our children unconditionally. Our childhood is filled of memories learning to play blackjack and laughing at our Pa Bob. He is a blessing.
Our neighbor who is not only a wonderful father to his boys, but a father figure to any who may need it. He's always ready to help when needed, celebrate our children's accomplishments, or throw a ball to an eager child. He is a blessing.
My step-son's maternal grandfather. While I have no direct connection with this man, I am forever grateful for his presence in my son's life. He has given Jacob a father figure when he is not with us. He has been involved in his life. And he has always been so kind to our family. There are two men that my son speaks about with true admiration, and this man is one of them. He is a blessing.
Day in and day out we are blessed by wonderful father's. Both in our home and in our community. Some of them coach our kids teams, others teach Sunday School, and some a friends who are ready with smiles and high fives whenever we greet them. Each of them is a blessing in our life.
I read an article the other day that stated, "A father's love contributes as much -- and sometimes more -- to a child's development as does a mother's love." Something we so often overlook. So today, I am so thankful to celebrate all of these wonderful men who have made myself and my children the people we are today. And my heart is filled with joy to celebrate the Father who gave us all of these blessings here are earth. Because without a doubt, His love is more than a contribution to our development... it is an absolute necessity.
