I know there are many of you out there who absolutely abhor Mondays. But I must admit . . . I LOVE them!!!Since my husband became a pastor, Sundays have become the busiest "work" day of the week. Everyone is up long before the crack of dawn . . . Mom is constantly reminding everyone to move quickly -- eat breakfast, brush teeth, wash faces, get dressed. The car is packed up & everyone loaded in -- after all, we will not be back home until after 10 pm. We get to church early -- there are always lots of things to do before Sunday School starts. After the 3rd service ends, there are drama practices, worship team practices, & meetings. All day long there are people to talk to, counsel, & touch base with. And we LOVE every minute of it.
By the time we reach home, there are very few lights on in our townhouse community. We get two half-asleep little angels changed into their jammies & tucked into bed. The day is over & we are a very good version of tired. A day well spent.
More than one wise ministry wife has told me that days like that can soon become a chore & a burden if quality family down-time is not protected . . . hence the reason I LOVE Mondays.
Mondays in the Dickinson house are sacred. We avoid all extra, out-of-the-house activities if at all possible. We leisurely work our way through the laundry. We bake. We play. We watch videos. And we usually stay in our jammies (minus the 3 hours that Caleigh spends at school).
Today was extra special for us. Caleigh didn't have to go to school. The girls both slept in until 9 am. We stayed in our jammies & spent most of the day watching several of our favorite episodes from Season 1 of "Little House on the Prairie." We baked. We did projects. And now, here we sit, the girls all freshly bathed, eating bedtime snacks & watching "Mr. Edwards' Homecoming."
*Sigh* ~ I love Mondays.
By popular demand . . .
Here is the recipe for the Macaroni & Cheese that I made last night for the seminary's Community Meal. It was a HUGE hit!!!!
1 - 10 3/4 oz. can cream of mushroom soup
1/2 c. milk
1/2 tsp. ground mustard
Generous dash of pepper
2 c. shredded Cheddar cheese
3 c. hot cooked elbow macaroni (about 1 1/2 c. uncooked)
1 - 2.8 oz. can French fried onions (1 1/3 c.)
In a 1 1/2 quart casserole dish, mix soup, milk, mustard, pepper, 1 1/2 cups cheese, & macaroni. Bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes or until hot.
Stir. Sprinkle onions & remaining cheese over top. Bake for 1 more minute or until onions are golden.
YUM!!!!!
*** Incidentally, my children are serious mushroom haters, so I substituted cream of celery for cream of mushroom . . . delectable!!!!
So . . . I came home from Caleigh's ballet class on Saturday morning feeling completely overwhelmed!! After my whirlwind 4-day trip to Maine & the immediate get-back-to-real-life-no-breaks-allowed days that followed (which included the death of my aunt & speaking in church on the topic of miscarriage), I was exhausted, the house was in shambles, & many of my church-related responsibilities had fallen by the wayside.
I cried the blues to my husband, who had his own plate piled high with responsibility. I needed a break. I needed to get things done. I needed to play catch-up with many things. I needed a duty-free, phonecall-free, restore order day!
No sooner had those words of complaint left my mouth, then Caleigh came down with a fever.
Now, let me add this disclaimer: I am in NO way a sadist who enjoys seeing her children sick. However, I have to appreciate God's way of making me take the time I so desperately needed to get things done that I'm sure He knew I would not take on my own.
We are now on our 4th straight day of being at home. Caleigh has been fever-free for the last 5 hours :)
As for me, I have played catch-up & it feels good. In fact, it feels so good that I think we are going to spend another quiet evening here at home making cinnamon ornaments (at the suggestion of a friend).
I love blessings in disguise!
Our church is doing a special series called "Real God for Real Problems." In the last few weeks, we have tackled subjects like self-injury, depression, anxiety, & homosexuality. This past Wednesday, I was privileged to speak & share our story of miscarriage. It is a subject that has been very silent in many churches. I was honored to be on a panel with two other special women who have also experienced miscarriage & its devastating effects. So many people were touched, I thought I would blog what I shared with our congregation that night.
When Pastor Tim asked me to share my/our story, I didn't hesitate. One of Jason's favorite verses has always been II Corinthians 1:3-5:
All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.
God is our merciful Father & the Source of all comfort.
He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort
others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give
them the same comfort God has given us.
My story begins on the morning of March 15, 2001 -- the day I discovered I was pregnant. This was not a planned pregnancy -- Jason & I had only been married for 3 months. And we were on the 5-year plan! There was no time to think about the implications of this new life because by the afternoon of the same day -- at 8 weeks pregnant -- I began to miscarry our first child. What I didn't know at the time was that this would be the first of four miscarriages for my husband & I.
One of the things that people need to understand about women going through miscarriage is that they experience a wide range of emotions.
My immediate response was fear although I don't know if it was more for me or for the baby. My first touch of sadness came during the doctor's exam when she referred to what was happening as a "spontaneous abortion." I also dealt with horrible guilt because a part of me was relieved -- this was not the best time to have a baby & this was not part of our plan. Four days later, I felt my first twinge of strange jealousy when my sister gave birth to her son, the first grandchild on our side of the family. My husband could probably elaborate on my odd behavior over the next several weeks -- it takes the body some time to realize that there is no longer a baby to sustain & the hormones must adjust accordingly. I thought I was being a completely rational human being, but Jason assures me that that was not the case.
One of the most difficult concepts for me to deal with was the fact that life begins at conception. I have often told Jason that if I could just think of the baby as a lump of tissue that was not genetically viable, it would be so much easier. But because I believe that life begins at conception, I knew that a little person had died, & that there was a child in Heaven that I would never know.
That first experience did leave me with one very positive perspective. I now knew that I desperately wanted children (I had never really been much of a "kid person" growing up). Together Jason & I made it a priority to prepare ourselves to start a family -- buying a house, buying a larger car, being financially secure, etc.
Several months later, Jason & I decided it was time to try to start a family. I falsely assumed that because I had gotten pregnant when we weren't even trying, it should be a piece of cake now. This began our 3 year journey through infertility and miscarriages.
Every month was met with disappointment when the pregnancy test was negative or the blood test showed hormone levels that were not high enough to sustain life . . . and we knew what would come next.
I wish I could say that I put my trust in the Lord & lived in the firm belief that He had a plan for my life & that He was good all the time & all the time He was good. However, that was not my response. God & I had it out several times before we stopped talking altogether.
I wrestled with extreme frustration. Our love life had become a science experiment. There was no such thing as intimacy when the mood was right. We had a very small window of opportunity each month & if we didn't make it work, don't bother talking to me for another 28 days. I was so deep in my own pain.
I wrestled with the fairness/justice of God. In my mind, everyone on the planet was pregnant except for me. I would go to the grocery store & see some woman with a cartful of kids, screaming obscenities at one that had dared touch something on the shelf & I would think, "How dare the Lord bless her & not me. It's not fair!" I remember receiving a phone call from the doctor's office, telling me that my hormone levels were again not elevated enough to sustain life. I knew this would result in our third miscarriage. That evening when Jason came home from work, he found me huddled on the floor in the corner of the kitchen crying. I will never forget what I said to him. "Would it really throw the planets out of alignment for Him to give us a baby? Really? He could do anything He wanted to. Why won't He do this?"
I had tunnel vision. I could not see past myself & my own pain to be even remotely concerned about anyone else. I was jealous of friends & family who were having babies. I hated Mother's Day. Everything was a constant reminder of what I didn't have. And all the while, I was convinced that Jason just didn't understand me. It wasn't his body. Which brought with it tremendous guilt -- he wasn't the one who couldn't maintain a baby. He was doing his part. It was my fault that our children were dying.
The fourth miscarriage was particulary difficult for me. I was teaching 9th grade English when I began to feel those all too familiar abdominal pains. Jason was called & by the time he arrived, the pain was so terrible, I couldn't even walk to the car. My body was broken -- my heart was broken -- and finally, my spirit was broken. There was something different about this time. It was like I had finally taken my blinders off & was seeing things for what they really were. I had been trying to deal with the sadness & loss alone & in the process I had turned into a bitter woman & put tremendous strain on my marriage. But most of all, I had driven a wedge between me & the Lord. I was tired of being the one doing all the work. He never walked away from me; I walked away from Him & wasted all my energy building a wall between us. I was finally done. I took all of my pain & all of my sadness & all of my hurt & laid it at His feet. I was calling Him on every promise He made to me:
I Peter 5:7 -- Cast all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you.
Psalm 46:1 -- God is our refuge & strength, a very present help
in times of trouble.
Matthew 11:28 -- Come to Me, all you who are weary & carry
heavy burdens, & I will give you rest.
Isaiah 30:18 -- The Lord longs to be gracious to you; He rises
to show you compassion. For the Lord is a
God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for
Him.
The change wasn't instant. And I had to keep going & keep going & keep laying all of my garbage at the cross. But slowly the Lord healed my broken heart. He brought comfort in all forms, every time I needed it. One of my favorite forms was the song "Lullably" by Andrew Peterson that he had written for their first child, lost to miscarriage.
The one thing that often makes me reluctant to tell my story is that I now have 2 beautiful little girls. Some may think, "It's really easy for you to say just trust God. You have 2 children." But that was not a bargaining chip. I had to make things right with God & get back on His agenda before He ever blessed me with my children.
Things I wish I had done differently:
I wish I remembered the exact dates of my miscarriages. I was so deep in my own pain & wanting to forget it & make it go away, that I did not save those dates in my memory.
I wish we had named our lost children. They were people. They were children with souls & now, 6 years laters, I wish they had names.
Things I think I got right:
We decided to create our own memorial to our children. Wherever we live, we have a lilac bush in memory of our 4 children in Heaven. Incidentally, that was the difficult thing about moving to seminary. We rent a townhouse & are not allowed to plant a lilac bush.
I have a much greater appreciation for my girls than I think I would have had if I had not lived through the loss. Those girls were hard fought for, prayed for, & begged for.
One thing that I did not address is where I think my children are today. That's because there has never been a doubt in my mind that my children are in Heaven & that I will see them one day.
People were bringing even infants to Him that He might touch
them; and when the disciples saw it, they sternly ordered them
not to do it. But Jesus called for them and said, "Let the little
children come to Me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as
these that the kingdom of God belongs.
Luke 18:15-16
