Clearly, this is not a picture of me or my own little peanut - though this might be more like what I thought she would look like. Good thing she looks like her adorable little self, because I just melt over how precious she is every second that I look at her. I saw
this picture on Pinterest yesterday and soon thereafter read a blog post that has kept tugging on my heart with a heavy weight. Here, I should insert a forewarning that this blog post might go in many different directions to get back to the same start/end point. It is also full of links and you should click on every single one of them. We'll let this picture be the catalyst to launch us though.
A few weeks ago, when Terry turned 30, he was out late hanging out with some of his best friends who had come into town for a little surprise weekend I had pulled together for him. When I woke up and it was 'after curfew,' and he wasn't home, I worried a little and sent him a text just to check in. When I didn't hear back from him in less than 15 seconds, I went ahead and started planning his funeral and figuring out just how I would survive as a single mom without my best friend and bring a new baby into this world. I
know. It is absurd and a little sick. I go from zero to a million miles away in my mind with these things and always have. I have vivid memories of being a young child standing by the large windows of the sunroom in the house I grew up in looking out the window waiting for my mom to get back from the (fill in the blank). If she was 5 minutes late - and there were no cell phones to call anyone to say so of course - I was sweating bullets about growing up without a mom. Once I got old enough to know more about losing someone, within 1 minute of them being late I would have already thought about what kind of accident they were in, who else was hurt, how the funeral would be arranged, what songs would be sung, how would I go to school/work/life the next day, etc. etc., etc. When I told Terry how serious I am about this happening to me all the time, he laughed and then said "you need help." A little jokingly...but a little not. Anxiety has never been a foreign concept to me, so no surprise that this is an area it lingers in my heart.
So of course, this weekend, I started "getting some help," much to my surprise. We have a 2 week series at church right now called "Soul Detox" by Pastor Craig Groeschel. Y'all, no joke. He told the exact same story about himself doing exactly what I do when someone is late, etc. - except his wife just told him he was sick. Maybe the same thing as needing help. I almost laughed out loud at the Lord's timing and the way He was bringing me help. It was a great message for me, and I'll look forward to this weekend's message. You can watch the series
here. So the foundation for 'help' has started for me, and I was reminded of amazing promises of the Lord to remind me why not to think thoughts of fear, insecurity, etc. But then I was reminded of how much further I have to go to really rely on those promises yesterday while reading a blog post of a photographer here in Charlotte.
I first read about
Chris & Jen Hunt on my sweet friend
Amy's blog - you'll recognize Amy as she took our maternity pictures and baby pictures of Emerson and was a dear friend and part of my Bible Study group when she lived here. I have followed their blog and have loved their redemptive story with their precious girls, and Jen clearly just has an incredible heart. Yesterday when I popped in for an update on their blog, I was surprised to see Amy (different Amy, not photographer Amy) & Charis. You can read Amy's story on Chris &Jen's blog on the most recent blog post. I have known Amy from a distance through the Young Life community and we had talked before Emerson was born about Amy potentially keeping Emerson when I went back to work - clearly there were lots of other things in motion that we did not know about that led us in different directions. Her daughter Charis and Emerson are only a few weeks apart. You should pause here and go read their story if you haven't already so the rest of this will make sense. When I read Amy's response of, "
but I know that heaven is even better than that," I knew it would take me awhile to digest. I sobbed through watching the video of Amy & Charis imagining myself in that position (because again, I do crazy things in my head), and cannot even begin to fathom it. And moreso, I cannot imagine my response being what hers was/is. I hope that I know that heaven is better. I know that it is, but my brain is just not big enough to conceive that when I am face to face with the world's cutest child. I am amazed by Amy's spirit and pray that mine can grow in that direction.
I always have this nagging underlying fear that something will happen to my children while they are young, that I will miss out on their lives somehow. I read and sob over and get wrapped up in tragic stories
like these, and then I am amazed and reminded of God's miracles in
stories like these. I need reminding that while I am equipped for this life and made to be a mother in life, I am made also and more ultimately, made for more. It doesn't have to be one or the other, really, it
has to be both. I need to be begging minute by minute, "Give me Jesus!," for myself and for my children - so my children will hopefully grow to desire the same thing, so I can cherish them the way He wants me to, raise them and love them they way they were made to be. I want my children to know always that I love Jesus and I love them - and I love them well because of Him.
If I want to get rid of fear and worry and cling to His promises; if I want to breathe in every minute with my children as deeply possible; remember every sound, look and event; be sure I love as deeply as possible... then what else do I need to be asking for other than Jesus?
In the morning, when I rise
In the morning, when I rise
In the morning, when I rise
Give me Jesus.
Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus.
You can have all this world,
Just give me Jesus.
When I am alone,
When I am alone,
When I am alone,
Give me Jesus.
Give me Jesus.
Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus.
You can have all this world,
Just give me Jesus.
When I come to die,
When I come to die,
When I come to die,
Give me Jesus.
Give me Jesus.
Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus.
You can have all this world,
Just give me Jesus.
Give me Jesus.
Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus.
You can have all this world,
You can have all this world,
You can have all this world,
Just give me Jesus.