Finding Faith in the Mess
How to respond when other people’s feelings are difficult to process. I am a Dateline junkie. It actually doesn’t have to be Dateline. Give me any crime story and I am mesmerized. One thing I notice a lot is when the detectives talk about suspects. …
I received a text from a friend filled with concern. She saw some things a mutual friend was doing and it broke her heart. She knew life wasn’t found it that space but didn’t know what do.
Have you ever been there? Have you ever seen a friend struggle or make choices that you know weren’t good for them? You want to scream into a megaphone and tell them not to go that way, but you know that would lead to the friendship ending.
I sat on this text for a bit. I didn’t know what to do, either. I just knew we had to be careful how we acted because it would mean the difference between helping save this friend or pushing them away forever.
I’m not responsible for changing you.
I’m responsible for loving you.
themessymingling.com
I remember having a conversation with my dad when I was 19 or 20. I don’t remember the context but I do remember one thing he told me that day. He reminded me that my job isn’t to save: to save them from themselves, to save them from the choices they are making, to save them from hurt. My job isn’t to change or fix you. My job is to love you.
I am a fixer by nature, so while this may sound like common sense, it’s super hard for me. Being an Enneagram one, I have all the rules and the process to living life well. If you would just listen to me, I can get you on the right track to good living.
Ha! Typing that out sounds ridiculous. But, it’s honest. It’s who I am and if I am going to walk with you as we find faith in the mess, well, I’ve got to show you my mess.
So, how do I do this? How do I remind myself that my responsibility is to love and not fix? I found my answer in Matthew 9:27-38. Through these verses I was reminded that it is really difficult for people to see when pride has overwhelmed them. When you look at our lives, most of our issues are rooted in pride. This helps me realize that any argument I try to have with my friend will be met by the brick wall of pride. She cannot hear me right now so arguing my case would be detrimental rather than helpful.
Instead of trying to convince her to change, I love her. Most of the time, your friend knows what they are doing, the choices they are making aren’t the best. They don’t want to be reminded. Loved, however? Well, that feels different. It opens a door and starts to knock that wall down.
Later in those same verses I learn that even the meanest (or most deceived) souls are precious to Jesus. Precious. If they are precious to Him, then they must be precious to me. Am I living like my friend is precious to me or is my life narrative more evident to her? This is where love enters in again. And the wall crumbles a little bit more. (Because who doesn’t want to be seen as precious?)
The last thing I learned from Matthew 9 was that Jesus has compassion on His people that are like sheep scattered without a shepherd. We can look straight in front of us and see this as true. We see so many that are scattered, rushing here, there, and everyone, sometimes wandering in circles with no clear direction. They have convinced themselves they are walking straight and with purpose (hello, pride). Jesus has compassion on them. In the midst of their wandering, he loves them. There it is again: love.
And the wall comes tumbling down.
themessymingling.com
This is where I find my peace when I watch my friends struggle. I want to shout from a mountaintop, “S T O P ! ! !” But, I stop myself instead. I remember that He has compassion on her. He thinks she’s precious (and she is). So, I love her and let Him do the rest. I trust that He loves her more than me and He will awaken her soul to see Him…especially if I choose to love her out loud.
Love & Blessings,
Meg
The Family Series: In light of the holiday season, I thought it would benefit all of us if we went through a little family series. We all find ourselves spending a little more time with family members we may avoid throughout the year. What better …
“Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as …
I wanted to wrap-up my series on miscarriage by telling our complete story. It’s always helpful to get the whole story instead of just bits and pieces.
My husband and I were married for almost four years before we started trying to have a baby. Of course, I wanted babies earlier but my husband always has a plan and that plan typically means we take longer to do things than I’d like. We got pregnant fairly quickly with our first born. His pregnancy and delivery were text book. Everything was healthy and right on schedule.
We knew we wanted one more baby so we started trying again when Jackson was about 18 months old. In my mind, I wanted the kids about two years or so apart. Like my husband, I always had a plan. I thought I’d start having children when I was 24. I didn’t get married until I was 24 so there went that plan. Go figure. I had Jackson at 28 and was hoping to have the next baby by 30.
We got pregnant pretty quick. I went to the typical six week appointment only to find out the baby was there but not growing, progressing, nor was there a heart beat. It took me six weeks to heal from that miscarriage physically. It was gut-wrenching to say the least. I don’t think I have cried that many tears in my life. I knew with all my heart that Jackson was meant to be a sibling kid not an only child. And, at this point, I couldn’t provide that for him.
Three months later, we got pregnant again. I went to the six week appointment and there was our little jelly bean with a heart beat. At eight weeks, we saw our gummy bear and the heart beat was still strong. Ten weeks we saw growth and more strength. And then came week twelve. We walked into the office a little nervous and a little optimistic. We knew things weren’t good when we saw the screen. Our baby no longer looked like a cute little gummy bear. Instead, she looked more like a blob. The pregnancy was no longer viable.
My OB was proactive and wanted to do some testing to find out why I kept miscarrying given that I was healthy, hadn’t had any complications with Jackson, and had no family history. We found out that our baby girl had Downs. I remember feeling mad at God for not entrusting me with this sweet soul. Why wouldn’t he give me, my husband, and Jackson an opportunity to love her? I think that was more difficult than the miscarriage itself.
Because our last baby tested positive for Downs, Scott and I had to go through some genetic testing. We found out that we are not carriers of the gene. Rather, it was a random mutation. We decided to try one more time to get pregnant. I was terrified but knew in the depths of my soul we weren’t supposed to stop trying just yet.
One month after my second miscarriage, I got pregnant with Grady. We weren’t messing around this time. All was going great this time around until 12 weeks. I began having symptoms of miscarriage and could not believe it. Scott whisked me off to the ER. I thought for sure we had lost him. I remember when they took me to the sonogram room. They weren’t going to let Scott come in. After much begging a probing from the crazed pregnant lady, they let him in but told him he couldn’t ask any questions. I looked him square in the eye and told him to study that screen. We had been through enough sonograms at this time that I knew he could read what he saw. While we were waiting for the results, I told Scott that if we lost this baby, I was done. I could not do this again. Three (horrible) hours later, we found out Grady was happy and healthy. I had a placental tear that would heal on its own.
Grady’s pregnancy was eventful. I had the tear, he didn’t move much, and I was pretty much on edge waiting for something bad to happen. Unfortunately, given my history, it was difficult not to worry. Grady decided to make his grand appearance four weeks early on the day of his baby shower. He was happy and healthy and did not have to spend any time in the NICU (thank the Lord Almighty).
When Grady was three months old, I began to feel a little off. I just felt weird. I happened to have an extra pregnancy test and took one just in case. I honestly did not think I was pregnant but why not? Within seconds, that positive result popped up. I was in shock. Complete shock. And then I cried. How on earth can I have another kid when I am holding my infant? I remember taping the positive test to the bathroom mirror and wrote, “Oops, we did it again” on the mirror. Scott didn’t notice my sign for the longest time. Once he did, he was all excited. Me, on the other, hand, I hadn’t even accepted this truth.
Wyatt’s pregnancy was perfect. I was still nervous but I was so busy with a toddler and infant, I couldn’t freak myself out too much. Wyatt was also a wiggle worm so he kept me sane with all his kicks and jabs. I had him three weeks early because his heart rate was elevated. He came naturally and quickly. After I had him, I had some complications but my incredible OB took great care of me and got me back to health.
When Wyatt was almost one we could not believe we were pregnant again. Yes, we know how this happens. We honestly didn’t think it could or would happen again. I went to the typical six week appointment and while my little jelly bean was distinct on the screen, his or her heart beat wasn’t that strong. It was still early so we weren’t all that alarmed but, it was still concerning. I lost the baby at eight weeks. I was devastated once again.
I remember after healing from miscarriage number three my husband and I had the talk. We discussed whether or not we should have any more children. Given the fact that I was just pregnant, I had baby fever. Yes, even after all my heart ache, I still wanted more babies. My husband gave me three viable and credible reasons why we should be done. He persuaded me that day to be content with our three healthy boys.
There were so many moments where I was on my knees, face flat on the ground, crying my eyes out (you know, the type of cry where you have boogers and tears running down your face) to God begging and pleading with Him to take the pain away. There were moments when I felt hopeless and like I would never overcome this valley. But God. He was always right by my side. He was always there. He was in the room when we got the news. He was in the empty nursery when I couldn’t stop crying. He was in the delivery room when we met our miracles. He was there.
God is near you. He has not left your side. No matter what you are going through, He is there. Oftentimes, we wonder if God is so good, then why would He allow pain and anguish to happen. The only answer I have to this is that we live in a fallen and broken world. We just do. If we didn’t, there would be no hope for Heaven and no need for Christ. What I do know for certain is that I meet God deeply and fully in those dark moments. He becomes more real to me than ever when I am in the pit of despair. It is in these times that I truly find hope; hope in a Savior.
Because of God, we have hope in our hopeless moments. I don’t know why I had to lose three precious babies. But, I don’t need to know why to know Jesus. Our loss was not without purpose. I would not have had the opportunity to counsel and bring hope to countless women going through similar circumstances. I wouldn’t have the authority to say that Jesus is VERY real had I not gone through what felt like the pit of hell on earth if I hadn’t suffered and experienced Him meeting me in my distress. I wouldn’t have Grady or Wyatt. My husband and I may not be as close as we are had we not had to fully rely on one another to get through. And, I can guarantee you that I would not be writing in this capacity nor would there be a Messy Mingling had I not gone through my miscarriages all those years ago.
Faith and life, they are messy. The intersection of life and faith is a messy mingling but man, is it ever beautiful. It is in this intersect where beauty emerges from ashes; where hope rises. The moment faith and life collide is the moment Jesus is most powerful in your life. Don’t be afraid of the mess. Don’t think He is not in the mess. Don’t believe the lies that He created the mess and walked away. He is ever present in the mess. It is in the mess where I truly found Jesus. Just say His name. Even if those five letters are the only thing you can mutter. You will feel power in saying the name of Jesus.
I am praying for you. I may not know what you are going through, but I do know God is standing right beside you. He is wiping your tears and helping move you through your anguish. You never have to lose hope because He doesn’t lose hope. He is hope. Jesus has got you and He’s got mighty mighty plans for your life!
Love & Blessings,
Meg
