A Struggle with Grace: Part 4

What if the point of grace is so we can go straight to the feet of Jesus with our sin stains smeared across our face and dripping from our hands? What if the biggest heart change happens if we go to the foot of the cross when we feel the LEAST WORTHY?

This is the real life me. I knew Jesus, I was trying to live like what I thought the Bible says, yet with the stench of death and defeat on everything I touch in life it was bound to infect me--destined to try and over take my better judgement and best hopes. I was STILL doubting and pouting because my life wasn't ideal. I was still ME FIRST in so so many sad ways.

When we moved, and the dust began to settle, I discovered I was HUNGRY. I needed way more for my heart and soul than I had ever been given or ever thought to ask for. While I confessed to know Christ, I didn't know ENOUGH--do we ever?

I was finally humble enough to ask for help and seek accountability. I saw that I am so sadly weak and wretched.

So I started to dig. I knew I needed people around me for accountability, and I needed to do some homework. I found the Genesis Process. It is a really beautiful tool to identify pain points in your life and get freedom from things that keep us in unhealthy cycles. I know there are ways to quit having babies, *har har*, but I needed to find something that would REALLY change me. This was a great start.

Jonathan and I agreed that before we thought about any more babies, we NEEDED marriage counseling. Not long after that conversation, we were invited to attend a 3 month class called, "Covenant Marriage" that totally reset our relationship and gave us healthy tools for communication. We announced to our class in the second month that baby #3 would be joining us later that year.

I started to panic again. What emotional terrors awaited me this time? What ugly side of myself would I have to face with this pregnancy?

God assured me that Pierce would be
a witness to the good work Christ is doing

I felt inspired to change my diet.I began feasting on the bread of life daily. I couldn't get enough, because I couldn't lose my junk fast enough. I did a big Beth Moore bible study that involved A LOT of homework (Thank you, Jesus, for women that speak truth!), and I met weekly with a few ladies to keep me accountable. I'm so thankful that I had that group to be connected to, it was literally a life line when I felt like I might drown.

It wasn't all smooth sailing, but I felt a difference in my response to situations. Ever heard of "putting on the full armor of God?" I'm laughing because it sounds so cliche, but I actually saw what happens when I did...

Pierce was born on September 27, 2017, and I was SOOO glad to not be pregnant anymore.

A Struggle with Grace: Part 3

We watched the cycle of abuse from the top floor of our house roll through a few times. We were scared, and felt totally out of control and out of options. Gradually the storm that was permanently brewing began to pull us in. They aimed their dysfunction towards us and both became more hostile as the weeks went by.

I'm leaving a lot of details out here, because frankly, this story isn't about them-- thought they certainly caused a lot of stress.

I aimed my anger towards God. I still hadn't healed from my past wounds, and now God was letting us be in harms way, with TWO kids in the picture!

"God, has abandoned me!" I hoarsely whispered at Jonathan hot tears burning down my face. "He is NOWHERE to be found in this!" The laptop screen I was gripping cracked as I emphasized the word "nowhere."

I was such a mess, I felt so hopeless, and I couldn't even switch the laundry without fearing what would happen!

There were new stresses in my relationship with Jonathan that were brought out in this period. Things I never thought would even be a "thing," but pregnancy plus life stress does CRAZY things to people.

Publicly, I'm think I'm great at putting on a happy face. But it's really Jonathan that gets to see my junk fall out. I can't say I completely lost faith through any of these times, but I'd say I was definitely running on fumes. Imagine driving a truck up a mountain on fumes... not recommended.

Things escalated to the point we had to leave our house. They had crossed a line of safety, and if you and I were in person, I'd tell what exactly what happened... but because this is internet and I haven't consulted a lawyer, I'm keeping it offline.

We had to leave, and they couldn't know where were going.

I was relieved, but now we were homeless, it was Christmas time, and I was going to have a baby any day.

Some dear friends opened up a place for us to stay indefinitely until we could find a new rental. I guess we'd do better homework on the neighbors next time...

Verity was born December 17, in a hospital in the North part of the island, a week after we had left our house. She was beautiful and absolutely perfect; the most peaceful and content baby I've ever met. She was an actual miracle.

Our church hosted an event call "Journey to Bethlehem" that year. I attended with 2 day old Verity and very energetic almost 2 year old. The story of Mary and Joseph needing a place to stay with their not-born-yet baby hit me RIGHT between the eyes. They weren't abandoned, that was clear to see! God had a master plan that they were walking out in spite of the uncertainty!

Maybe I could find a reason to connect with God one more time. I HAD to! I knew I couldn't do this mom thing on my own! God, I just need to heal, I feel so sore!

After a month staying at our temporary home, a place opened up that would fit us well. We did our homework, asked A LOT of questions and felt peace about moving forward.

Verity was 1 month old when we moved in.

A Struggle with Grace: Part 2

Newborn life with Micah was absolute joy. He was so precious, and I was so relieved to be at home full time away from all the stress and drama I had experienced at school while I was teaching. We quickly saw as he approached his first year, he was the center of our family’s universe. He was the first grandchild on my side, and with Grandmama and Papa close by, we knew he needed another little person to share all this joy with. So we prayed for a little sibling.

Not long after his 1^st birthday, we discovered a little sister was soon to join us! We were elated! As we were staying in a 1 bedroom condo, we realized we had better start our search for a larger place sooner rather than later due to the difficulty finding god housing can be on a small island.

We found a place on craigslist that was just the right price. Three bedrooms, and a view of the ocean, this HAD to be the one. Not wanting to miss the opportunity, we started making it happen. We had to meet a few timelines with leaving the other place that caused some stress and inconvenience to everyone involved, but we had a mission—to get ready for baby #2!

In hindsight, we really didn’t use much grace, and I see our anxiety paving the way for the trouble that was coming, instead of letting faith and patience guide us.

We had to move 2 times to get into our new place. Some church friends let us crash for couple nights with ALL our boxes at their house while we waited for the official move in date, because we had to leave the old place in time for the new renters month to begin. We didn’t care, we were thrilled to start fresh at a new place and leave bad memories behind.

Everything seemed wonderful when we arrived. Our shared house was an “Ohana” so we shared one house with 2 separate living spaces. The downstairs neighbors, Lucy and Larry (names changed for this story), were acting as the building managers for the landlord that was out of the country.

We left for a few weeks to take a missions trip with our youth group to Paris and enjoyed a wonderful experience sharing joy and praying with people we met on the streets. It was the first time I ever cried leaving a place, I didn’t want to go back home.

When we settled back into life, strange things started happening. Doors started slamming downstairs more often. Our neighbors started smoking next to our screen only windows, and being pregnant and a bit paranoid, I started complaining to Jonathan about the constant annoyance. A complaint was sent to the landlord that the building managers were breaking the rental rules. Honestly, I can’t remember if we talked to them directly or not.. that may or may not have helped.

Late One night, Lucy knocked on our door. We answered and were worried for her when we saw she had been crying. She unloaded her horrifying story of abuse and heartache with the man that had been living with her in the same building as all of us. This was the most horrible, bloody and violent story I’ve ever had anyone personally confide in me, and of course we were very upset for her. We prayed with her that night and strongly advised her to seek shelter and safety from the man that was causing this.

Larry never left.

A Struggle with Grace: Part 1

Mom asked me the other day about the mental breakdown I had during my first pregnancy. I had never thought of it like that, but I could only imagine what it looked like and sounded like from the other side of things.

For some reason, my mind seems to take the brunt of the pregnancy tolls, and my emotions run EVERYWHERE. Some people get bed rest all 9 months, I get the hormones of a fire crazy female dragon. Things that I normally could reason through become unbearable burdens and punch holes in my will power, self control, and self image.

We were in a delicate place when we discovered the exciting news that we would be parents. We were living with my parents as we were getting our finances prepared after being full time volunteer missionaries for the past 6 month. I had waited all summer to hear back from the HI Department of Education to find out if I would have a job as a teacher, and the day after my job offer came, I found out everything else about our world would be changing as well with the arrival of a baby in the next year.

One Sunday morning, I screamed, howled, and wailed at my husband. I WOULD NOT be going to church that day, "You HAVE to tell me what your plans are for our lives!"

 Morning turned into evening and my tears turned to pouting. I was SO angry that God would dare let us live in this uncertainty. My anger left unresolved, grudges were inconvenient, so I just chose to ignore that day and live on.

Months later, we were living in our first place in Hawaii away from my parents. Thankful for some space to call our own (though we shared very close proximity to the neighbors), my hormones continued to swell and overwhelm me in a cocktail of fear and anxiety. I continued to work as a rookie Kindergarten teacher, trying to measure up to the ideals I had in my head from college days, but felt the crushing weight of exhaustion and the almost 50 pounds I had gained thanks to pregnancy.

One day near the very end of my 3rd trimester, Jonathan had come home later than I anticipated from a job he was working on. Our financial situation weighed HEAVILY on me, in spite of the fact that  miracles were happening for us with new legislation that made it possible for me to receive an entire year's salary even though I was missing the last 2 months of school. But I couldn't see past my red hot anger, and I allowed myself ride my hormonal roller coaster slotting myself to spew another round of insults, blame, yelling, and embarrassment that lead to the building manager knocking on our door to see if police needed to be called.

They weren't called.

I was mortified, horrified to find myself in this lonely place. Not even my husband could comfort me. I felt SO alone and so sat in a pit of self pity.

I had NO ONE to talk to... not even God, I was so bitter that he had placed us in this pot of misery.

FINALLY,  the baby was born and my angry hormones left. Surely joy could return again, and it did, for a while.

A Struggle with Grace: The Introduction

This is the beginning of a long story. It’s nothing very special, but it’s my story. If life is like a patch work quilt,random bits of yarn and fabric sew together in random places, this is how I see the parts of my life attached.

I've been blessed over and over by the lives of my three beautiful children. My pregnancies were medically uneventful and very smooth. Deliveries of each of them were quick, requiring little to no interventions. My firstborn's birth story is actually right here on this blog.

I've had people tell me how strong they see me to be, "What a supermom!" They might be just being kind or trying to be sincerely encouraging, but I need to tell the truth, and get the dirt out from under the rug.

Each pregnancy has brought out my worst and weakest parts. Parts of me that are broken, deceived, not even able to be properly filtered, and better left cropped out of the picture of who I am. I am absolutely pathetic, if I didn't have CONSTANT, NEVER ENDING reminders of who my God is, and how GREATLY he loves me.

Each experience has changed me. I couldn’t know the things I would know the next day, but with each event I’ve experienced, my hope has been that I’ve become wiser and more graceful as time goes on.

Here is the first part.

That One Time I tried carrying Santa's Toy Bag

Have you ever written a list of everything you’d ever want?

Last year, I was challenged to write out a list of 50 dreams I have for my life. I had never done anything like this, and ended up being able to clearly see some priorities I had to help to me make some important decisions.

But something funny happened to this list. It turned into my imaginary Santa’s Toy Bag, but instead of him carrying it, I started dragging it with me everywhere I went, and into every conversation I had. Worse yet, I didn’t even REALIZE I had this clunky thing with me!

As we press into a life of bravery, we have to be aware of the baggage we are carrying. Do you ever see the hero(ine) in a movie running to the rescue while carrying a monstrous load with them or trying to juggle it while they deal with the “bad guy?”  NO! To experience our life to the fullest, our minds must be clear and our arms empty so we can be ready for whatever comes!

I felt challenged to write out the things I had in my bag, and then give it to someone who can carry it.

Are you carrying anything? Friend, please take time to write it out, and join me by praying the prayer I did.

Jesus, I give you this list of stuff. It’s been a really heavy burden to bear and it’s made me feel so inadequate. It’s defeated me. I don’t want to carry it around anymore, so I’ going to let you have it. Please, give me your good and perfect gifts. Give me strength to be gentle, Give me patience to be living. Give me joy so I can fully live.

Ain't nobody got time fo' baggage!

I felt a tangible lightening of my load when I gave it away. Oh the joy! I can be sure that my heavenly father has good things for me. 

I Corinthians 2:9 says, ‘What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him,” and there’s no way I wanna miss all that for a bag of junk! 

Conscious Scrolling

Imagine-- a colorless dirty concrete wall, stretching as far as the eye can see. Smoothly slabbed making climbing impossible even for spiderman. Now, you notice there is a tiny hole, rectangular in shape, just at eye level, giving just enough space to peer through and possibly even hear noise from on the opposite side.

Now imagine a lone figure dwarfed by the vast wall, peeking through the window, squinting to take in as many details as possible. This character can see people walking by, coming and going about their daily tasks. Consuming anything that can be seen or heard, sometimes it's bits and pieces of conversations that can be heard about various parts of their lives and matters of importance.

This scene goes on for hours, days, finally months and even years. The lone figure finally settles to sleep near the hole just to be able to catch a glimpse into the minutia of these strangers lives.

Why Is this Post Here?

It's been some time since I've shared in this forum, but the time has come to return again and I surge forward with conviction and anticipation. Let me explain...

Who am I now?

Sometimes the best way to feel familiar with a person is to know where they are heading, to learn what their intended destination is. Here are a few clues that I can provide.. they are a bit lofty and perhaps even too "ambitious" to make reading further unbearable, but nonetheless it's generally what I have installed as a compass and guide for how I attempt to proceed.

My Dream:

To make the world a better place

My Hope:

To be inspirational and encouraging 

Daily Ambition:

To become better than I was the day before, loving those in my path well, listening well, and taking appropriate action when needed

The troublesome and tiring REALITY is that I completely fail in these ideals everyday. Truth is, I'm not sure why I don't LOWER the bar so at least I could claim some level of success throughout a day. Call me a hopeless optimist, but I just can't shake 'em.

So why am I back on the blog?

Well, earlier this summer I started a project and then ended up leaving it kinda just "hanging." But the truth is I'm still in the process of figuring out the next steps.

Basically, I started readed a book called 100 Days to Brave by Annie F. Downs on Facebook Live. It started as me just reading a day at a time, but then the videos morphed into what that day's reading was speaking to me personally. And then I hit "the wall." In my quest to become "brave" I lost courage, because I had caught a glimpse of who I am that I didn't like. It was a view of myself I didn't want the world to see, so frankly, I've been hiding..playing the part of the coward, wrestling with this idea for the past 3 months. How do I overcome this dragon to my courage while being true to myself in the process?

So here I am. Stepping out of the shadows, putting down my phone, and publically wrestling with this issue of bravery and real life.

Follow only if you dare...