Thankful for Scars

The bruises on my knees, the tears in my eyes, and the hurt in my heart remind me that I was not to leave this world unscarred. Even Jesus kept his scares after the resurrection. Our scars are what make who we are, and they are beautiful to Him. As I become dirtier and more beat up, I am becoming beautiful and transformed into the image of the One who has made me. I am thankful.

The Love of a Mother

"When you care more about if someone else lives that you do yourself . . . is that what love's like?" - Kate Fitsgerald, My Sister's Keeper

 There are just some things in this life that you cannot understand unless you experience them yourself. I have accepted this, but you see, I have this thing I like to do. I like to try to feel others pain. No, I'm not a masochist. for as long as I can remember, I've had a desperate need to understand, to feel, to learn. It frustrates me when I cannot feel or understand a situation or idea. I know I can never understand most emotions completely, but I try my best to understand, or feel even at least an ounce of anothers pain. Only understanding can bring progress.

However, as I've grown older, I've realized there is one feeling that is stronger than any other emotion I've ever seen in action, or have ever tried to understand. A feeling that is stronger than the love for money, or for a friend, or for even a lover. No, it's so much deeper, so much heavier and unbreakable.  It's the the love a parent has for their child.

This is a love I cannot fully understand till I am actually a parent, I'm sure. But, when I try to touch even the most outer layer of that love and understanding, I am blown away. The deep, aching, vulnerable, and life changing love a parent, especially that a mother has for their child, is completely unexplainable.

When my mother tells me the story about how one of her sons, Joshua, had died soon after birth, it hits a very tender feminine spot in my heart. How you can leave your home, scared, nervous, but also so filled with love, and excited to hold that child in your arms, only to come home heart broken, empty handed, and your arms aching to hold the child that you never even got to see. My mother has retold stories from the numerous times she's almost lost my brothers to Cystic Fibrosis. When they have stopped breathing, when they need to be in the hospital for weeks, when she watches them cry as they are being wheeled away for surgery or when they need to have blood taken for the nth time.  It kills me to listen, to even try to touch and understand even a speck of that love and broken heartedness, never mind actually experience it myself. In all honestly, its making me cry right now. I know women who have gone through not only one miscarriage, but many many more. The hurt, the discouragement, the unfathomable pain... I can barely grasp it.

I have siblings, so I know - that in those relationships, it's all about fairness: you want your siblings to have exactly what you have. The same amount of toys, the same number of fruit snacks you do, the same share of love. But being a mother, from what I see, is completely different. You want your child to have more than you did. You want to build a fire underneath him and watch him soar. It's bigger than words.

When you first become a parent, as far as I can imagine,  you can lie in bed at night and imagine the most horrible happenings: the attack of a cat your child tries to pet, the taste of a poison berry, the smile of a dangerous stranger, the dive into a shallow pool. There are so many ways a child can be harmed that is seems nearly impossible one person alone could succeed at keeping him safe. As  children get older, the hazards only change: Inhaling toxic fumes, playing with matches, small pink pills sold behind the bleachers of the middle school. You can stay up all night and still not count all the ways to lose the people you love.

Mothers, correct me if I am wrong, but from what I can see and understand, I don't think there is a more vulnerable experience than having a child. In all honesty, it sounds terrifying. To be that vulnerable. To experience a love that can make or break a person. To those who say being a mother is not a job, not a respectable role, I say you are utterly and completely wrong. Because from I can see, there is no stronger lover, fiercer fighter, and braver endurer than a mother.

When you're a parent, lines blur and black and white mixes and becomes gray. When you're a parent, you fumble through and make decisions that allow you to sleep at night. When you become a parent, morals become more important than ethics, and love becomes more important than law. A couple years ago there were firefighters who were killed in a fire started by a homeless women in Worcester, Massachusetts. She knew the fire had started and she left the building, but she never called 911 because she thought she might get into trouble. Six men died that night, and yet the State couldn't hold this women responsible, because in America, even if the consequences are tragic, you are not responsible for someone else's safety. You aren't obligated to help anyone in distress, not even if you were the one to start the fire. There are a lot of hard jobs out there. Firefighter, defense attorney, doctor. All tiring jobs that take a toll on you. What I've realized though, is that being a mother is harder than anything you would ever have to do in a burning building, courtroom, or operating table. I've realized that the law changes when you become a parent and  that person in that burning building is your child. If that's the case, not only would everyone understand if you ran in to get your child, they'd practically expect it of you. You don't fear for yourself. You only fear for this little person you allowed to fill the spaces in your heart. Things change when you're a parent. You change.

 In the book My Sister's Keeper, Sara Fitsgerald's daughter, Kate, is diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia. Right before Kate is diagnosed, Sara sits in the hospital waiting room with her husband and four year-old Kate who has been repeatedly poked with needles for hours. Kate is miserably and her arms are as sore as her mother's heart from watching this happen to her child. When a nurse comes over and says they need to take more tests, Sara asks if they could only do a finger stick this time. The nurse replies by saying,"No, this is really the easiest way." Sara then replies, "Do you think that's really what I want to hear? When you go down to the cafeteria and ask for coffee, would you like it if someone gave you coke, because it's easier to reach? When you go to pay by credit card, would you like it if you were told that's too much hassle, so you'd better break out your cash? Do you think it's easy for me to be sitting here with my child and not have any idea what's going on or why you're doing all these tests? You think it's easy for her? Since when does anyone get the option of what's easiest?"

Now, Sarah Fitzgerald is a controlled and considerably reasonable women. She is kind and well mannered. But its when you mess with her child, part of her heart, the person she lives for, when you see this side of her.

Motherhood is a love only Jesus Christ can help a person tame. When you're aching with the loving fear for losing a child - whether that be emotionally or physically - and you feel like no one can understand and you're overwhelmed with a killing hurt, I imagine that's when Jesus comes, tears in his eyes, and wraps his arms around you and says, "I understand. I lost mine too." Is there a more beautiful example of love in the Bible than God giving His son? Every time I see a parents and child, I see the gospel. God giving up His son to die for us is something that I imagine can only mean even more when you're a parent.

Now, do I only see the terrifying  venerability of having a child? No, of course not. I also see the joy, the smiles, the hugs the kisses, the pure love. It's enough to make your heart burst. I see the love. I see that it's worth it. As I grow older and try to understand more and more of this world I live in, I am continuously knocked over with the love of Jesus Christ - especially when I see the love a parent has for their child.

  

My Mom

Sometimes my mother drives me crazy. I drive her crazy all the time. There are days when our personalities collide so fiercly it brings both of us to tears. Inspite of  this, there is no women on this planet I have ever respected more. She has gone against hardships I cannot even fathom. She has faced death and sickness with a triumphant victory. She has devoted her life to her children and their education and is daily picking up her cross to follow Jesus and serving him in everything she does. I wish I could say I was a wonderful daughter who makes life easy for this women who deserves my utmost respect, but in realty, I know I've 'caused her to get on her knees more than once with my hot head and rebellion. I have not made her life easy, yet she has loved me perfectly with endless devotion. There is nothing I could ever do to make her love me less. And believe me, I've done many things that could make a person love me less. One of my biggest faults is when I forget these things about my mother. My biggest prayer in life is that I could have even an ounce of her bravery, determination,  perseverance,  wisdom, and everlasting love. 

"Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her" - Proverbs 31:28 

Personally, I don't know another women who deserves this praise more than the one who raised me. Mom, I love you. You are blessed. Happy birthday. 

I Am Moved

I'm not really sure how to explain how I feel at the moment. I think I feel. . . ineffably greatfull. Lately I've been thinking of the person I am, the person I seem, the person I want to be. I feel frustrated. Frustrated by the fact that I can't be the same person I want to be day in and day out. Do you ever feel like you act differently around certain groups of people? When you're with them and  leave and you realize you didn't act with the grace of a man or women of God? You realize you were loud, obnoxious, or bossy, or just rude? these are the characteristics I see in so many girls around me. The ones who scream for attention. You look at them and you ask yourself, "Do they realize how they're acting? How loud and obnoxious and crass they are? Those girls who have the grace and gentleness of a low class hooker or a classless chick  in a honkeytonk?" Then you leave a place and realize you're worldly emotions had gotten the better of you. You realized you did not radiate with beauty and grace, but with a loud, obnoxious, attention seeking attitude. You were not a lily among thorns (Song of Solomon 7:6). You increased. He decreased. When Jesus overtakes a woman's life and transforms her from the inside out, she becomes truly feminine. A picture of elegance, grace, and loveliness blended with sacrificial selfless devotion to her King. She becomes a true lady, carrying herself with poise and pure prideless confidence, and deflecting all attention away from herself and toward Jesus Christs. She is enchantingly mysterious, holding her inner life sacred and guarding her heart with soft tenacity. I remember thinking all of that sounded ridiculous and unnecessary. When I wasn't aware of the love God had for me. When I didn't realize that being rude, bitchy, and obnoxious would get me nothing but leave me empty and friendless. Now, as I'm washed clean with His bold, I see that the noble, breathtaking, captivating, Christ-centered femininity is truly a sight to behold. It's a beauty that does not draw attention to the women, but to Jesus Christ. It's a radiance that is not dependent on age, circumstances, or physical enhancements. It's a loveliness that flows from deep within. The refreshing beauty of heaven, of life transformed from the inside out. It's almost embarrassing how far I am from achieving that beauty. But that's where my gratefulness comes in. It comes at the time of self loathing and insecurity, and when I bow my head and apologize to the God I have just disgraced over and over again by my actions. That's when his furious love and adoration knocks me over and I feel him wordlessly say that he forgives me and that I'm still beautiful and precious to him.  That no matter how disgraceful I can be he'll always be waiting to take me back. Then he gently laughs and adds in how silly I am for thinking he couldn't take me back since he has already re-embraced me thousands of times.

I am moved.

"Love came down and rescued me

Love came down and set me free

I am Yours. I am forever Yours" - Brian Johnson

"I am a whore I do confess

But I put you on just like a wedding dress

and I run down the aisle

I'm a prodigal with no way home

but I put you on just like a ring of gold

and I run down the aisle to you" - Derek Webb

"I will praise You God of earth and sky.

How beautiful is your unfailing love.

And You never change God You remain

The Holy One and my unfailing love.

Unfailing love." - Chris Tomlin

Valentines Day

          I decided to change what Valentines day is for me. I decided to make it a beautiful, and glorious celebration. Not just for the married or coupled, but for everyone. It's for everyone who loves.  Valentines Day is about love, and love is not a fling, or a present wrapped in paper, or flowers. Love is not just having a boyfriend or girlfriend for a day, or being married. Love is not the feeling in your pants when you make out with someone. It's not cheap, artificial, or surfacey.

         Love is the feeling you get when I look at a good friend and are so ineffably thankful for thier friendship and how I’d do anything for them, or how when I look at all my brothers I feel a loving thankfulness swell up in side me, how I look at my parents and see how hard they work and how much they love me. It’s that feeling I get when I think of Jesus Christ and his uncrushable, unceasing, totally gloriously, unfailing, never-ending, completely accepting love. I love to celebrate, and appreciate what love really is. I like to know that there was a man named Valentine and how he went to jail because he believed in love, and that marriage/relationships survived on the unselfish love of God alone. How he not only married people, but ministered and counseled to them because he knew that the love of God can surpass all things. That through that love that we could all strive to love each other perfectly. Valentine's Day is a day to celebrate love and what it is and what it means no matter what kinda of love you are celebrating. It’s not only about being in a romantic relationship. The people who think of it like this are easily compared to the people who look past the meaning of Christmas and only celebrate the gifts. Celebrate the relationships you see. Your parents marriage, your friends relationship or marriage, or your relationships with your parents, friends, siblings, or most importantly, your heavenly father.

          I believe even if you have a broken heart, you can celebrate love. So many look at love after a divorce, an unfaithful spouse, or their own break up and see nothing worth celebrating. Their heart is broken. But it's only when our hearts break that what's inside can be spilled out - love, compassion, hope, and understanding. My heart  is broken - it feels shattered. It's broken for men, women and children who are hurting, for my family, and for my friends, for the young women and young men I know who are lost, lonely, or have no self-worth, and who's hearts are also broken. It's broken for broken marriages, families, and lives.  My heart is broken, and I think that's a great place to start changing minds, lives, and worlds. I want to be a broken heart leading another broken heart to healing. I celebrate broken hearts because it is the broken hearted that end up changing the world.  There is always love worth celebrating. Even when your heart is broken.

            - Happy Valentines Day!

"Harbor me in the eye of storm, and I'm holding on to love you swore." - John Mark McMillian

Oh. Right.

Oh. Right.  I have a Blog.

Lets try this again.