Jesus
This remarkable day
It is a remarkable day for the Z family.
It is a day that God has chosen to show us His goodness, kindness, faithfulness and nearness.
This day a year ago our precious little boy came into the world. We had waited and waited for this incredible day, as the journey to his arrival was an anxiety filled one after I went into preterm labor at 29 weeks. But in God’s timing our little one stayed put until I was induced with him at 38 weeks. It was a wild ride leading up to his birth, but not something we were unfamiliar with {the wild part of the ride that is}.
You see, today is not only significant because our little one was born, but also because it was 10 years ago today that the mister took me out on our very first date.
After all we went through leading up to our son’s birth, his birth date reminds us that God has had a plan for us since before we even knew that our Heavenly Father was laying out the path in front of us.
So although it was a wild seven-year journey from our first date to our wedding day, and strict bed rest for the last trimester of my pregnancy with our little guy, God has been faithful and blessed us with so much more than we could ask or imagine.
When I choose to see Him, the evidence of His hand touching, guiding and molding every part of our lives is abundantly clear. My heart is grateful today.
I do not write consistently AT ALL anymore, but I hope that when I do, as you read you know that God is not a respecter of persons. Meaning, that if He will do this for our little family, you can be confident He will do the same for you.
Read MoreTo my guy and my man,
God has blessed me in incredible ways through the two of you. You provide so much joy in my life and though our journeys have been unique in their own right, I would not change a thing. I am a better woman because of you both and am looking forward to the years ahead of you little guy and where we will find ourselves in the next 10 years Mr. Z.
Love,
Mrs. Z and Mama
Our love. His love.
It’s a wild and crazy sisterhood out there. We may have nothing else in common but the one thing that brings us into the church nursery, to the infant swim lessons, into the PTA meetings. We remember the exact day our lives changed and will share it with each other without hesitation. We desperately try not to loose ourselves in these little ones but it certainly is a battle. We ache for times of quiet and peace, and yet our hearts are never quite as satisfied as when we see their scrunched up little face after a time away.
We’re mothers. We’re generation builders. We’re God’s chosen vessel to nurture and care for the lives He created to do His purposes. We are blessed. We are humbled.
As time goes on into this motherhood thing I’m amazed at how much I love it. It didn’t come right away for me. To be honestly raw, when my son was placed on my chest after he was born I was much more consumed with how painful labor and delivery was than this little precious being now laying on me {God bless those women who can say labor and delivery was the most beautiful thing they ever went through, I am not one of them. When I was done I literally looked at my mom and said I might be getting an epidural next time!}. And as the days went on I couldn’t believe the radical emotions I felt, from love to fear to angst. But as the months have progressed the joy and incredible love I have for this little one have grown in such measure that I never thought possible. I loved him the moment I saw the two pink lines, but this love keeps growing and growing and growing—something I did not anticipate.
As each day goes by I am overcome by the reality that this love I have for our sweet little boy—unconditional, fierce, irreplaceable—pales in comparison to the love the Father has for EACH of His children.
Including me.
If I, a mere human being could love with this capacity, how much MORE does the Father love us? How much more does He beam with delight when we accomplish His purposes? How much more does He hurt when we hurt? How much more does He long for good for our lives?
I am not one to make resolutions each New Year. But I am one who likes to live intentionally. I believe it is what God wants for us. And this year I am choosing faith over fear. If my God could love me the way He does—and I know He does—then what could I possibly fear?
I’m praying for 2013 to be a year of great faith where I trust in the everlasting, all-powerful Almighty who loves me with a love I can only partly understand and believe Him to knock my socks off no matter our circumstances. I hope the same for you too :-) Happy 2013!
Read MoreAnd I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Ephesians three 17 – 19
The receiving end
Resolute Woman
Have you ever been on the receiving end of a miracle and been so humbled by it because you know deep in the depths of your heart that you didn’t do anything to deserve it?
I haven’t been blogging as much due to our sweet baby boy and all that is required of me to care for him but if I were to be honest, he’s not the entire reason. It has been a hard season of faith for me. Let me explain.
There is a love that has ravaged my heart to the point of fierce protection. It has compelled me to a place of feeling almost super human at times. That might sound nuts, but I’m pretty sure that this love I have could propel me to take out a 300 lb 6 foot 5 man in a matter of seconds. You know, the don’t-you-touch-my-son-or-I-will-break-your-neck kind of strength. And where other women might be humbled by this and get on their knees even more and ask God to equip them for this journey not me, my independent streak has grown and I feel like I can do it all.
But I know, from previous experience mind you, I simply cannot do it all.
I cannot do it alone. I cannot do this life well without the power of the Holy Spirit.
But instead of heaping coals on my head and crushing me with the weight of the things of this world, my Savior performed a miracle. Instead of condemning me for foolishly thinking I could be the wife and mother he’s called me to be in my own strength, he showed Himself through a situation in which there is no way the outcome could have been any other than God Himself.
I am humbled by His mercy and grace.
In a time when to my human logic He has every right to “punish” me, He loves on my family and I and gently but hugely shows us that no matter how we treat Him, He will love us, care for us and provide. This compels me to get on my knees and pray, to read my Bible (His love letter to us), to praise Him in all things and serve Him always.
I can’t say it’s an automatic reflex to land on my knees every morning and open His word. It was at one point in my life. When I knew I needed to leave the house at a certain time to beat traffic and get into the office. A time when much of my responsibility was outside of my home. But now, the bulk of my priorities are in these four walls of our home, taking care of two incredible guys and working from a desk in our cozy living room. Some mornings I know I’ll have time to be with my Savior and others, well if the little one decides to boycott his morning nap, who knows what the day will hold.
In the end though, through this most recent miracle my Savior has gently and lovingly reminded me yet again that He is worthy of all my time and affection. That in Him all things are possible {Matthew 19:26} and He will provide for us. There is simply no need for me to rely on my own strength, because frankly, it just won’t work {Proverbs 3:5-8}.
Read MoreBed rest workroom?
I thrive on routine. I need to be busy to stay motivated. I get energy from keeping a full schedule and serving others {especially my husband}. The busier I am the better I seem to do.
Eight weeks ago yesterday all that was removed from my life.
Yesterday morning was the first morning I woke-up at the same time as my husband and when I heard the cord of the iron being plugged into the wall I realized I had forgotten to iron his favorite pants. It might seem silly, but I really wanted to iron his pants for him. It has been weeks of not doing anything for anyone else, let alone him, and this was a small thing I could do. I rolled out of bed {because at nine months pregnant you really can only roll} and found him, hugged him and asked if I could iron his pants. He of course was happy to let me do it as it meant he could get ready faster and therefore be at work earlier.
I ironed his pants and made him coffee. And it was wonderful. I mean seriously wonderful. For the first time in eight weeks I felt normal. I was a wife again. I love being Mr. Z’s Mrs. God made this role for me.
When I was first put on bed rest I thought I would take advantage of this time and blog away {among other things}. Simply write and write and write. But if you’ve visited this space with any sort of frequency you know that’s not the case. I manage to bang out the weekly pregnancy milestone entries, but other than that there isn’t really any consistency. There are a variety of reasons for that from not being able to get into a comfortable enough position to even want to attempt to type to frankly, being in a mood where it is simply better to keep my thoughts between me and God. To state the obvious, these last eight weeks have been less than productive.
At the recommendation of a friend I listened to a sermon by Holy Furtik. It is appropriately titled:
“If I have to wait, I’m gonna get to work”
It’s a part of Elevation Church’s newest series, The Waiting Room. Ridiculously appropriate for me huh? {And I’m sure many of you out there as well.} I wish I could say I turned this eight-week waiting room into a workroom, but frankly that’s just not the case. I know none of this time will be wasted as God promises He uses everything for His purposes, but as I listened to this sermon today I knew in my heart there are some serious lessons I need to take into this next season of life.
The phrase “change the waiting room into a work room” was weaved throughout the sermon. And while I don’t feel that’s exactly what I have done these past eight weeks, it is something I must consider in the future and for the remainder of this time.
We are all works in progress and Lord knows this work {pointing at myself} will be in progress until the day I meet my Messiah. Ruth Bell Graham, Billy Graham’s wife, used to say that when she died she wanted her headstone to read:
“End of construction. Thank you for your patience.”
How appropriate.
God’s mercies are new every morning and He has never expected us to be perfect, but He does desire us to be teachable and humbly submitted to Him. After all, we are flawed human beings purposed to bring Him glory. Only He is perfect. But He wants us to seek Him, know Him and allow Him to make us more like Jesus.
So as I near Baby Z’s due date and wait on this little one I’m reflecting on the season where life was put on pause, looking for what God was trying to teach, how He was trying to use me and seeking to be better at it in the future.
Holly brought up three ways to turn your waiting room into a workroom:
- Resist the urge to complain and fill your situation with praise.
- Preoccupy yourself with fulfilling God’s purpose rather than escaping your problem/situation.
- Realize that our detours are often God’s destinations.
I’ll be looking at these questions in light of this season, pondering where I may have put them into play and where I could’ve done better. Hoping to learn for the next time I find myself in a place of pause.
Perhaps this is something you’ve dealt with to? Wondering when life will move on—beyond the current situation you find yourself in?
You might be interested in the sermon too :-)
Read MoreSpecial Permission
We hopped {well as best as a pregnant lady who has been on bed rest for six weeks can hop} into the car giddy with excitement. It was the first time in six-plus weeks that the Mr. and I were out of the four walls of our home together. We were on our way to see friends that might as well be family, worship our God and be “normal.” It was one of the greatest Easter gifts I could have ever asked for.
In my most recent doctor’s visit I begged to go to church on this very special day. And although she seemed a little hesitant, she allowed me to venture out to my home away from home.
When we walked through the doors the worship music washed over me and I was overjoyed. Oh how I had been missing this so very much. The sense of joy for all that this resurrection day means and the expectancy of our God moving was tangible. The church had just been through a whirlwind season of preparation and execution of one of the most incredible Easter performances {put on something like nine times!} I have ever seen. I missed it this year of course, but the utter joy from being a part of God moving through the production was evident in the staff and the members who were a part of it. Say what you will, but the Holy Spirit can be contagious and boy was it yesterday!
I didn’t realize how much I missed it all until we walked in the doors and got to our seats and I could just soak it all in. I stood for a few moments, eyes closed and tears welling up, thanking God for these incredible gifts: our little one still in my womb, my rock steady husband, a church that LOVES Jesus and the ability to celebrate my Savior.
I’ve heard many people say they love God and hate the church. And there are parts of me that understand those statements. Especially if you’ve been burned by church members before {I certainly have}. But that’s the beauty of church, it’s made up of flawed, not-even-close-to-perfect people. Yet God can use it to do His work and minister to us if we humbly submit to Him and acknowledge that without Him, we are incapable of being all that we can be.
Yesterday was a vivid reminder to me that we miss a beautiful and tangible piece of our God when we neglect being a part of a church body. When our soul feels dry His church can help to bring us back to life. When we can’t seem to muster up the thanksgiving we know we should feel in our hearts, being in His presence amongst His body can help manifest the thanksgiving we have wanted to express but seemed to have lost. When we feel far from Him, we can walk through the doors of His church and the distance is no longer there.
I don’t know if this post is intended for someone in particular or perhaps just for me to get what’s been on my mind and in my heart in writing. But if you feel like I have and have been burned in that past like I have been, don’t let that stand in your way to walk through the doors of His church in the near future. Where the Spirit of the Lord is there is freedom. Sometimes we need to walk through the doors of the church and join in the fellowship of believers to know that we know that we know that we aren’t as far from Him as we thought.
Read MoreAgain. And again. And again.
The doctors had warned me that I would most likely have more contractions as a result of the move from the hospital to home. Yet even knowing this in advance when they came on I was quite unnerved.
This is my first pregnancy; will I know that labor is progressing?
If not, will I be putting my sweet baby in jeopardy?
These were {and at times still are} the questions that have ravaged my brain, stole my sleep and kept me distracted from being able to focus on much else. It’s tiring thinking that I am solely responsible for the life that is growing inside me.
Here I am again, staring fear right in the eye.
I love Beth Moore studies—so much so I’m actually doing one right now since I’m on bed rest—and in one study I remember her saying that God will bring us back to the same thing again and again until we finally surrender it to Him. And He does this because He loves us just that much that He doesn’t want us living this life with burdens we are not meant to carry. He desires to carry the hard, difficult and overbearing things that we feel crushed underneath.
His yoke is easy and His burden is light.
When Mr. Z and I broke-up it took may attempts to surrender my thoughts, feelings and emotions about him and our relationship before it was finally surrendered. And it wasn’t until I trusted in my God as the sovereign author of my life story that I finally was able to forgive myself, forgive him and move on from our story.
He is nudging me to trust Him more deeply. He is nudging me to continue to accept that He loves our little one more than we do and that He will care for him/her in ways we will never be able to. {Even now, as I sit here day after day.} Will I trust Him and His sovereign plan in this new normal? Will I surrender my fear again? And again? And again? Until FINALLY I cannot anymore because it is completely surrendered?
Read MoreFather in heaven; help me to surrender my fear to you daily until there is nothing left to surrender because you have taken it all. I have seen your miraculous hand move throughout my life and especially in this exact situation. How weak my flesh is, but how wonderful You are to strengthen me by Your grace. Help me to not forget what You have done in the past, to remember that You will bring me from glory to glory and that this too, this fear that creeps in and out on a daily basis, can once and for all be surrendered wholly completely to You. You are my rock, my fortress and my salvation. I love You my Abba Father and surrender to You.
