The Heartbreak of My Miscarriage

The first and only time I saw the baby was in the emergency room. The ultrasound technician was using a scope and the monitor was turned enough my way that I could see everything.
I saw the most precious silhouette...a perfectly formed head, little nose, little chin, tiny torso...and no heartbeat.
This wasn't my first rodeo; being baby number three I had seen my share of ultrasounds, and I was well aware that there should have been a quickly beating glowing thing shouting "I'm alive". There was nothing there.
I knew. I knew right away. I looked at the technician and said, "there's no heartbeat". She sadly shook her head and told me she was going to get the doctor.
My tears began to flow and I whispered, "the Lord gives, and the Lord takes away...blessed be the name of the Lord."
The thing is, the Lord had given this baby at a time when I wasn't too excited to receive it. We had two little girls already and they were proving to be quite the challenge. I had finally lost my baby weight and was feeling svelte and we were getting beyond the terrible toddler years...and, well, this baby seemed a tad inconvenient.
I had never, ever, never, never thought of abortion; but I did think of how sucky it was to start the ride all over again. By ride I mean morning sickness that never stops, naps that don't feel restful, round ligament pain, weight gain, sore backs, sleepless nights...there didn't seem anything thrilling to look forward to and I was mad.
Have I offended anyone yet?
6 weeks in I had the initial "yep, you're preggers" appointment and I heard the heartbeat. 8 weeks in I was barfing more than a bulimic showgirl (I actually don't know how much they barf, it just seemed an interesting comparison), but the sickness was easier than with my other two and I was a bit concerned. I went to my OB/GYN and he heard the heartbeat and told me all seemed well. By around 11 or 12 weeks I was sitting outside in the early spring air, watching my little daughters chasing each other around a tree, when I had a vision of a third child in the mix. I could hear three giggles, I could see three sets of dancing eyes.
It was then that I not only came to terms with having a third child, but truly embraced the idea. A week later I began to bleed.
After the horrendous ER visit (re: catheterized by Mo and Curly) I went to see my OB. He was very empathetic and truly sorry; and then he told me something that truly horrified me.
Based on the size of the baby, having been examined during the procedure I underwent, it was very likely the baby died at nine weeks gestation - a week after my concern over lack of sickness...the last time I would hear the heart. So, for 4 weeks I had carried around the body of my dead child. While sick, while planning, while embracing the life coming...the child was already dead.
I was truly heartbroken. Truly just...broken.
Was it something I had done? Was it because I wasn't happy about having another? I'd had an MRI a few weeks before conceiving, was there latent MRI-iness in me?
A few days afterward I drove myself to the mall and parked way back in the parking garage and poured my brokenness out before God. I asked all the questions most people ask when staring down grief, but I had no big heavenly-voiced reply.
I did have consolation though. From my husband, my church family, and from my oldest daughter. Then four years old, we were cuddling as I put her to bed; she reached up and stroked my face and said, "I'm sorry your baby died."
Me too.
Comfort can not be appreciated more by those who are grieving. For the most part we aren't really looking for answers or cheap one-liners about God's will and Better places; we just want the hugs and the "I'm really sorry"...that's all.
Interestingly enough, days later, God Almighty comforted me in a way I would never have expected. As a believer in Jesus I am comforted to know that my death will usher me into Heaven...but what about my baby?
One afternoon I had my regularly scheduled bible study time while the girls were napping. As I was making my lunch to munch while studying a bunch, I heard this little voice whisper to my heart: "I have a word for you from Psalm 8".
Psalm 8, huh? Mmm...okay.
Sitting down to my bible, I opened to Psalm 8:

O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth

You have set your glory in the heavens.

Through the praise of children and infants you have established a strong hold

against your enemies, to silence the foe and avenger.

As I read that line about children and infants, the Father whispered again "Your baby is with me, praising me."

My bible still has tear stains.

While I won't know until heaven why this baby went there first, I will know the comfort our Compassionate God had for his heartbroken daughter, and I will know I can rely on that comfort again should brokenness revisit in the future.

Christina

The Transforming Power of Cussing

It used to be less common; using foul language. 
It used to be...or perhaps I thought it was. That is, until I watched one of my favorite childhood movies "The Goonies". I was excited to watch it after so long a time, and watch it with my children too. I remember fondly the "Hey you guys!" pirate scene, the siren call to adventure even if you're a dork, the happy ending. So, I turned on the movie and within minutes I turned it right back off. I couldn't believe all the horrible words coming out of the mouths of those little boys. I was stunned! How did I not notice all that cussing when I was a kid?
Maybe cussing had been more common than I previously thought.
I used to cuss a lot. The year I had the gangsta-wanna-be boyfriend who listened to rap with explicit lyrics (what was I thinking??!)... I swore a lot that year. That was my senior year in high school; the zenith of my teenage trying-to-be-cool mindset. The next year I went to college at a Christian University (Corban University) and had to rewrite the script I had been speaking by for years. Nobody there cussed...at least not out loud, and not around me. The kids going to this school were here to prepare for a life of Christian ministry and Christians don't swear.
Well, that's what I thought anyway.
So, I stopped cussing. After a while I began to like the non-cussing Christina, so I continued to not cuss because, well, I didn't want to.
Now, as a recovered cusser, I have to be honest and admit that when I hear someone cuss it unnerves me. No, that's too soft a word. It puckers my soul. Think of taking a big, long suck on a lemon dipped in vinegar then rolled in salt. That's how it feels to my soul when I hear cussing.
Just today I was walking into a store behind a pair of ladies. They were stylishly dressed, hair done nicely...just pretty, really. I wasn't evesdropping, I promise, but I was overhearing these women talking about social issues and the environment, when all of a sudden one of the women dropped the "F" bomb. It's called a bomb for a reason you know; it destroys! This woman's foul language totally destroyed my first impression of her as a classy girl and transformed my view of her into something different.
Its like going from this:

to this:

Now, don't get your unders snarled. I am NOT saying that girls who swear ARE trashy; I am saying that when we swear (and don't forget that I am a card holding member of Cussers Anonymous) it transforms the way we are seen in the eyes of others.
My junior high aged daughter has dropped a couple of bombs recently, in part because that's what she hears the kids say all day, and also because she wants to fit in. When she swears the other kids see her as one of their own.
She doesn't belong to them though, not really, she has pledged her life to Jesus Christ and she belongs to Him; but when she cusses she looks like she's traded teams.
This is the transforming power of our words.
If you watch British TV, Downton Abbey for instance, there is a big difference in the way the separate classes spoke. The serving class and the upper class were distinguished by, not only their dress and bearing, but also by their use of language. In the same way, the manner in which we choose to speak distinguishes us from the world who does not follow, love and obey God - or not.
We who call ourselves "Christians" are representing the person connected to that name. I don't think you would have heard Jesus Christ propping up a parable with a few well placed cuss words. Yeah...no.
Philippians 1:27 tells us to "live you life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ" and I strongly believe that includes our language. It's more than cussing, it's also the content of our conversations. Is Jesus' character and personality coming out in what you say? Paul told the Ephesians, "coarse and foolish talking or crude joking are not suitable, but rather giving thanks." Apparently potty talk was an issue in the first century too.
Speaking of Downton Abbey, there is a line that Mr. Carson says in season one, episode two that has always struck a chord with me: "You must remember that a good servant at all times retains a sense of pride and dignity that reflects the pride and dignity of the family he servies. And never make me remind you of it again.

I Don't Think God Likes Me

Last night I was having one of those conversations with my 7th grade daughter. You know...the kind I have been warned would be coming; the kind with all the deep questions that most people don't want to answer. Maybe I am weird, but I LOVE those conversations! Go ahead, ask me about sex and boys and popularity and God and hell and stuff...BRING IT!
I like to go deep...talk about deep things that really matter, so this was my kind of convo.
At one point we were talking about the way God puts boundaries around our lives in order to spare us from hurt, pain and regret. It was at this point that my daughter said, "yeah, he looks at me and can't wait to (pushes a finger into the top of the bed) go Squish!"
I wanted to say, "Nu-uh! God is so not like that!" but then it occurred to me that I used to think that way too. So I told her as much.
"You know, I used to think that God was just waiting for me to mess up too, but then I learned that he's much nicer than that."
And it's true, He is much nicer than that. In Psalm 50:21 God says, "You thought I was altogether like you", because we often think that He is just like the people who can be mean, vindictive, punishing and abusive - only He's bigger and older. But God shows us through His word that He's so much different than us - so unlike us.
I know there have been times I've waited for my kids to screw up; sometimes it was because I couldn't wait to try out a new discipline technique. But I admit, I've done it. I've grown so weary of chronic bad behavior from them I do come down hard and unforgiving. Have my kids seen my past harshness and relate it the way they think God is? Maybe. Upon further deep thinking on the matter; knowing that this is an area many people struggle with, I don't think the perceived harshness and fear of reprisal is the main issue. I think we wonder, deep down inside, "Does God like me?"
I know, I know, the Bible says "God is love" - you bet. Does He like me? The Bible says "He is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness" (Exodus 34:6-7), but does he like me?
I have experienced first hand the love-you-don't-like-you phenomenon. You know, those family members who "love" you because you are family, but they don't have any desire to hang out? You know, those friends and church family people who "love you in the Lord", but have never bothered to have a conversation with you or invite you to dinner, or treat you with out-of-sight-out-of-mind indifference? (Is it just me?)
Man, I want to be liked. I want people to think I am funny, to want to spend time with me and to be interested in me as a person.
So, with that in mind, does God like me...and how would I even know since it's not like I can reach out and throw my arm around his shoulder.
It all centers around "delight".
Years ago I asked the Lord to do something that would delight me...I mean, really knock my socks off and let me know He's thinking about me and delights in me. After I finished praying I felt in my inner self (my spirit) the Lord saying, "Go sweep the back porch". Wha???
So, I went out and swept the back porch and as I was sweeping the broom struck something big and clunky...a rock. I reached down and picked up the rock, turned it in my hand, and saw a heart. A rock shaped into a heart which had somehow made it's way onto my back porch. I began to weep. It seems so small - and could be cast off as coincidental (if you believe in that sort of thing); for me it was a gift...a token of how much God likes me.
Since that time the Lord has presented me with heart rocks everywhere I go: mission trips, speaking events, conferences, vacations etc. I have a big jar full of them.

Some, like the one in this picture from India, couldn't come home with me, but were just as thrilling to find.

I am convinced that the Lord wants to show each one of us that he not only loves us, but he really does like us too. Why don't you ask Him to show you, in your own special way, that He likes you; then be ready for it!

Body, Soul and Spirit III: Building the foundation

In the last post I told the story of asking God to make me thin and in response he cast me head long into a fitness teaching career. While God could have just snapped a finger and made me perpetually thin, regardless of diet and exercise (we've all seen those kind), instead the Lord taught me an important lesson: anything worth wanting for is worth working for.
I wanted to like the way I look. I wanted to be able to sit up with the assistance of my arms and legs flailing in the air to get me upright. I wanted to see a bit of muscle tone in places I had never before seen it.
When I first began to teach classes I was unbelievably sore. My now-husband-then-fiancee, Ryan, and I had strict rules regarding places on the other's body we could touch before we were married; one evening I limped in to his parent's house and begged him to massage my glutes. (That is the butt for those who don't know). He refused...it was in "the zone".
"No, it's okay! I won't think of it as sexual...it's just a muscle and it hu-urts!" I whined.
He shook his head in stubborn refusal. My poor buns.
It took a while, and a lot of discomfort, but I got into pretty darn good shape. Sixteen years later it takes a lot for me to get sore now because my body is so accustomed to the work I load on it. And that's the point: anything worth wanting for is worth working

 The above picture was taken when I was 17 years old, I was at one of the heaviest points here.
The picture below was taken when I was 36 years old, after giving birth to three kids.

In the last post we talked about having a goal - which is crucial - but in addition to that goal you have to know how to get there. After starting to teach classes I had to learn, not only how to teach fitness classes, I also had to learn about the way the body functions, how to work it for strength, endurance and flexibility. Most importantly, I had to learn how to fuel my body properly. Basically, I had to relearn how to eat. I can exercise until the cows come home, but if I didn't eat clean, God-made foods, I was doing little good for my body.
You just can not eat junk food and expect to have a lean, strong body. Nope. Not gonna happen.
If your goal for this year is body-health than I would recommend the book Clean Eating by Tosa Reno and also Body By God by Ben Lerner.
Just as diet and exercise are the foundations for building a strong body, Paul tells us that there are some necessary building blocks in having a satisfied soul: faith and a good conscience.
Remember, Paul said the goal of his instruction to Timothy "is love that comes from a pure heart, a good conscience, and a sincere faith." This is what is necessary to tear down any feeling of a wall between you and your Creator. Don't get me wrong...Jesus Christ is always there for you and hears you when you pray; but the bible is very clear that our sins disrupt a close, loving relationship with him. (Check out First John chapter one).
"I just want to feel closer to God", you say.
Great. How is your conscience and your faith?
Are you holding on to resentment and unforgiveness? Baby, that's sin. "For if you forgive people their wrong doing, your heavenly Father will forgive you as well. But if you don't forgive people, your Father in heaven will not forgive your wrongdoing." (Matthew 6:14-15)
Are you jealous of someone? Do you want what someone else has? Do you have a crush on a married co-worker (lust)? Seriously, the list can go on and for those of you who are followers of Jesus Christ and have the Holy Spirit living in you, I bet God brought something to mind, didn't he?
This morning I had to confess my insecurity and pride to the Lord because someone at the gym has bigger class numbers than me and it makes me feel like I am failing. That may not seem like a big deal to you, but for me it was becoming an obsession. I don't want that on my conscience.
How about faith? How are you doing with that building block?
Faith is believing God is in charge and wants what is for the best...especially when it doesn't seem like it.
If you want to grow closer to God, to know him more, to feel His love more...ask Him to give you a sensitive conscience and a stronger faith.