Grace at Cafe Chocolat

This last weekend I had the privilege of going on a retreat called Cafe Chocolat with 40 other women to eat some chocolate and spend some time with the Lord.  I was on the leadership team and knew the ins and outs of the weekend.  I wasn't expecting to be moved like I was.  God had different plans.

During our last session we sat with chocolate syrup (our sin) in our hand for what seemed like a really long time, but was probably 10-15 minutes.  It was a mess.  It spread all over, got on everything around you and even on others around you.  That's so like sin, isn't it?  It's just a mess and it spreads.

There were four women standing up front ready to wipe our sin away.  One of them was my mom.  I didn't go to her because I was trying to avoid crying.  I went to another line and as my sin was being wiped away I was overcome with emotions.

Friends.  I lost it.  I thought about His grace and how much He has changed me in the past year.  How He has just loved on me.  How He has molded me through my hard times.  How thankful I am for having my hard times so I lean into Him more.

I realized He's been working to give me a new name.  And for this I am thankful.  Praise!

One Year Later

I read this somewhere this week.  It's so true when it comes to miscarriage.  How do you say goodbye when you didn't get a chance to say hello?  

It's been a year since my last miscarriage.  And I'm not going to lie, it's been a tough year.  It's been a year where the Lord and I have been working through a lot.  The biggest being my miscarriage.  So, I'm going to share with you my grief one year later.  

The tears seem to be rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably this week. I'll be doing something like folding laundry and the next thing I know I'm crying.  There's just an ache deep in my heart and it comes out in the form of tears.  If I try to hold it back it makes it worse.  I'm embracing letting the tears flow.  The release of emotions is healthy, right?  

All I know is that as I sit and cry I'm not alone.  There are hundreds thousands of other women out there doing the same thing as me, mourning the loss of a child.  And they're not alone either.  I have this vision of Jesus rocking each and every one of us when the weight of our grief is just too much to bear.  And that is a comfort to me.  The Lord doesn't want us to be hurting.  He is there to comfort us.  And He knows exactly what we're going through.  His own son did die on the cross for us.

So, mamas out there who are mourning... go ahead and cry.  

Let it out.  

You're not alone.

One Step

So, I realize I've been missing for several weeks now.  Between a case of writers block and working through some emotions again it's just been hard to figure out what to write.  I spent a lot of time in December thinking about last December.  I spent December 2012 praying that we would get pregnant.  That we would be blessed with another child.  We found out we were expecting a few days before Christmas last year.  There were so many emotions; shock, amazement, fear.  We started to make big plans.  We were embracing the next chapter.

Then it happened.  The rug got pulled out from under me, under us, and I miscarried.  On February 1st it will have been a year since we lost the baby.  So much has happened in that time.  I'm not the same person I was a year ago.  I never will be.

I was numb for several months.  Sometimes I wonder how I even got out of bed.  Then I remember I had so many prayer warriors praying for me.  The power of prayer is an amazing thing.  It is the greatest gift anyone could give me.

I still have good days and bad days.  Sometimes it just hits me, that we would have been a family of five.  We would have been having another first Christmas with baby number three this year.  I start falling into the pit of the what ifs and the if onlys.

Oh Jesus.  Come.  Drag me out of that pit.

Just because that baby didn't make it into this world, doesn't mean that he (or she) isn't a part of me.  A part of our lives.  That child will be carried with me my entire life.  That child was, and forever will be, a piece of me.

Grief is a process.  A very long process.  Did I say long?  There is not time limit on how long you will grieve.  I remember asking a friend if it ever got easier.  She just replied, "it just changes."

It just changes.  That was some truth.

The most helpful thing I've found is that I need to feel my pain, joy, sorrow, everything.  I can't hold it in.  I need to lay it out before Him and let it go.  Letting it go doesn't mean I forget.  It means that I don't cling to for dear life.  I trust that He's got everything, including me, and keep taking one step at a time.

Just.  One.  Step.  At.  A.  Time.

Happy New Year

My life verse is Jeremiah 29:11.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

This year instead of making a new years resolution I decided to choose a word.  I will pray this word for myself and my family for the entire year.  So, what's my word?

I have hopes for this coming year and I'm going to give them to Him.  

Laying it at His Feet

I was talking with a friend the other day about surrender.  It's such a hard thing to do.  And God doesn't want me to do it unless I want to.  It's my choice.  It's part of that free will thing.  When I decide to surrender, I have to do it in love.  If I'm not surrendering in love, then I might as well not surrender.

I've been reading Angie Smith's book I Will Carry You: The Sacred Dance of Grief and Joy.  This is an amazing book by the way.  Definitely worth the read!  I'm realizing through reading this I am still working through the grief of my two miscarriages.  I'm still working on fully surrendering those to the Lord.

Anyways... I was reading her book at a coffee shop this morning and this is what I read.

"I literally screamed at the sky while I cried over my own hurt and the hurt of a sister 

I had never met.  He never back down, though, and I am grateful for that love.  It is 

the love of a Father who Himself is well acquainted with sorrow.  It is the love of a 

Father who has lost His Son.  He understands the ranting and the door-slamming.  

The emptiness tat wraps around me when I think of my sweet Audrey.

He knows.

And He only has one request.

Bring it right to Me, Angie.

Every time the anger roars in your heart.

Bring it to Me.

Every time you feel like nobody hears you.

Bring it to Me.

When you think it isn't fair.  When you think it isn't true.  When you can't think at all.

Bring it to My feet, and I will make an altar from your suffering." 

- Angie Smith, I Will Carry You

Whether is grief, life or something else that's overwhelming me.  I can take it to His feet.  I can surrender it to Him in love and He will make an altar from my suffering.  He understands everything that I'm going through.  It's all covered in His love.

I lift my eyes to the mountains - where does my help come from?  My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2

Peace,

Megan

Let Me Be Honest

After reading the post at She Breathes Deeply today I wanted to had to write this.

I don't want to be one of those people who come across like I "have it all together."  I don't.  I'm a mess.  I'm a work in progress.  I have to surrender to Him over and over every day.  I make mistakes constantly and I don't ever finish everything I want to get done.

You would think it would be a little easier to get things done around here.  I have two kids that can entertain themselves (and the puppy) for a little while.

I have a kitchen that's a disaster (and waiting for my husband to conquer).

I have clean laundry piled up all around me (dirty too, don't let the clean piles fool you).

I have a puppy that thinks ALL of her toys need to be out (I'm pretty sure the boys help her too).

But.  Yep, there's a BUT.  God didn't call me to be a great housekeeper, clothes washer, dish cleaner.  I'm learning to let those go and try to do what He's called me to do.

He called me to follow Him.  Some days it's easier to get my time in with Him.  Some days, it falls to the side and I have guilt.  It's about surrender, constant surrender.  Over and over each and every day.

He called me to be a wife,

a mom,

a Holy Yoga Instructor.

Most days I still don't feel adequate for what He's called me to do, to be.  But, I'm trusting that He's got my life.  He's got me, my husband, my kids.  He's got everything and I just need to trust.  And breathe.

Blessings,

Megan