The Not So Much of an Answer Answer

Results time. All the testing done, from the 17 vials of blood, to the horrible biopsy, to the not so horrible sonohysterography, and the other blood tests in between. I felt ill as I headed to the appointment today, nervous about what we would hear.

It really was a bit anti-climatic as we sat there listening to, “You’re healthy. The biopsy came back negative. The sono didn’t show anything wrong.”
As it turns out the only things that have shown up are some slightly elevated hormone levels and a TSH (thyroid) that was on the high end of normal. A lower TSH level is more ideal for pregnancy, and the hormone levels are often connected to poly-cystic ovarian syndrome although I don’t really have any other symptoms. Dr said she would recommend some cycle monitoring to keep an eye on the hormone levels to see what they were doing over a longer period of time, possibly thyroid medication, and then monitoring and progesterone once I got pregnant to give the baby an optimal chance. 
There is one test that we don’t have results from yet, and that’s the genetic testing. It is possible that those answers will come back and will reveal an issue that will have been the main cause of all our losses, and that will be daunting since as far as I know there won’t be anything we can do about it. I might be wrong – I haven’t looked into it that much, but what do you do if your genes are screwed up?
Since we are moving next week, Dr is going to give us a referral to a clinic in our new city, and we will see about pursuing some of these options. I’m still not really sure how I feel about all of this – the meds make me nervous, and knowing that there is still a pretty decent risk of miscarriage doesn’t really help. I’m really not much farther ahead than I was before, and I want to be able to try again, I want to have another baby, but what if there are just more losses ahead for me? What do I do with that? How much more can I handle before I give up? How successful would all of this be and how much would it screw with me on the way?
There is so much going on right now, so I will wait until the new year to focus on all of this and figure out what exactly to do from here. 
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Posted in doctors, miscarriage | 4 Comments

Fall Frenzy

 Is there anyone out there who doesn’t have a crazy life? Because mine just seems to go from craziness to craziness. There is so much going on and it’s only going to get worse over the next weeks. So I know that despite really only having a tiny bit of time to write tonight, that moments like this will get harder to come by. This will be my attempt to get down at least the main details of everything that’s going on, even though there is so much going in my head that I want to write and share, too.

Part One
My last post was all about how we were waiting on word for a job that Boy really wants. If you aren’t following my Twitter feed, or just missed it – he got the job! It’s looking like it will be an amazing job for him and an amazing place for our family. I’m pretty sure I’m very happy with it, but for some reason, our excitement over it has been a bit lacking. I think it may be that we are somewhat overwhelmed with all we have to do and I know Boy is feeling anxious about this new and more intense position. Also, saying goodbye to family and my home town certainly carries it’s own sadness. Hopefully, once we get there and start unpacking and meeting people, we will have that enthusiasm come back!
Things were greatly dampened as the job offer came in when, it did in fact, include the condition that we only bring two cats. I wept and sobbed and decided along with my Boy, that this is what we would have to do. We needed this job and the hope and future that came with it.
While still very emotional, I asked Boy to send a request begging (yes, I used that word) them to please reconsider. I had little hope they would do so though, and began to inquire with friends if anyone knew of a good home for our poor kitties. I was especially worried about one girl, knowing it would be very hard to find a home for her and that we might have to make the decision to put her down. She’s a skittish little girl who doesn’t like anyone to come near her, pick her up, or generally exist. Oh, and she tends to pee on things. Who wants a cat like that? (Heck, most of the time we don’t even want a cat like that, but she’s our cat, she’s part of the family, and that’s what you do.)
Then – surprise. They really did consider our words and think about whether they could change this condition. And they did. We could bring them all! They did place a few conditions on that, but none of it was more than we offered to do in the first place. I am so very relieved to be free of the burden and sadness of finding good homes for four kitties. I am very grateful that we get to keep our family – and that I don’t have to try to explain to Bug where are kitties are going.
Now to be completely honest (cause this is my honest space), it can be a huge pain to have so many cats. After spending a few days adjusting my mind to what it would be like to have only two cats, I am feeling anew the burden of six. Transporting them, vet bills, expensive food, keeping them out of bedrooms, cleaning up hairballs or vomit every couple of days, and of course, the joy of coming across something that has been peed on. I disconnected from them a bit during that time, and while I still love them and would hate to say goodbye, I can see how much easier our life would be without so many, and I’m closer to being willing to let go of them than I’ve ever been before. I’m not sure I would openly admit this to anyone in real life, but there it is.
Everything else on this storyline is going well. We put our house on the market and had an offer accepted, conditions waived, in one week. Our realtor said it had been a long time, since he’d seen a deal come together this quickly and smoothly. Just another confirmation we are on the right road.
We hired a U-Haul, the biggest they have, and then worried that we still wouldn’t fit, so we got a trailer for it too. Boy was pretty anxious about driving this and happened to mention it to our new pastor/boss. He found someone to drive the six hours down here with him, in order to drive the truck back up the next day. How amazing is that? And I think this is only the first sign of what a great church family this is going to be.
We seem to be doing well with packing, as the boxes pile up to the ceiling, and it looks like we will be on track to be ready before we need to start loading the truck! (not always the case for us) We do have a few things going on that make this a bit more challenging for us though.

Part Two
For over a year now, I have been moving towards trying to find some answers as to why I’m having so much trouble carrying a baby. It took months to get in to see an OB/GYN, and if you’ve been reading, you know how much of a disaster that turned out to be. After that, I knew I needed to take greater measures, and I contacted a clinic in Toronto. I was still pretty nervous that I would get all the way down there and they would give me the same, “sorry, can’t help you,” that I’d already heard, but even on the phone they sounded friendly and professional, and I was assured more than once that my own experiences and home pregnancy tests would be taken seriously.
My appointment finally rolled around this past week. We did the 90 minute drive while my phone chirpped with the never ending, ever so valuable support from twitter friends, and I worried that it would be a huge gaffe taking Bug into a fertility clinic, despite the fact that I had been told that was just fine. We had a bit of trouble finding the clinic in the huge building, but with a bit of help, we arrived on time. I was immensely grateful to see that not only was it ok to bring a little one, but it was also expected, as Bug immediately spotted the a children’s area off to the side.
Meeting with this doctor was like night and day from my last experience. She was quiet spoken, professional, friendly, had the ability to listen, took the time to explain things, allowed me time to ask questions, and most importantly of all, told me my early losses did indeed count in the puzzle of my fertility. She didn’t necessarily know what they meant, might not be able to figure it out, but they were important and she was going to see what she could find.
She heard my story and then took me step by step through what she wanted to do, pausing to make sure I followed along and agreed with everything.  The first thing we did was blood work. I counted and they took seventeen vials of blood from me! I’ve done blood work before, but definitely never that much at a time. Next  week I go back down for an endometrial biopsy. She explained it as doing a pap, but going deeper to get a tissue sample. Since I really don’t like doing paps, and have never had one that didn’t hurt, I’m really not looking forward to this. I have two more blood work requisition forms and will have to call later to book a sonohysterography – an ultrasound where they use a bit of saline to expand your uterus to get a better look inside. Also not looking forward to that.
She’s been very understanding of our imminent move and has worked to get as much of this done before we are four hours away from the clinic. It’s making our days that much busier and giving me that much more stress, but I’m appreciative of her efforts to take care of us.
At the end of this month, maybe we will not only have a new home, a new city, and a new job; maybe we will also have some answers, some hope, and some help, giving us a chance to add another precious little one to this precious little family of ours.

If anyone has any info, tips, or encouragement on these procedures I’m looking at, please share! I’m quite intimidated by them and will welcome anything that would help them go smoothly.

Posted in about me, doctors, miscarriage | 9 Comments

The Weight of the Wait

I’m not sure I’ve ever had so many migraines in such a short period before. Every day I feel like I’m a little heavier, a little more weighed down. The stress is pushing me into the ground.

Five weeks ago we drove six hours to do a three day interview with a church, an associate pastor position for Boy. It went fantastic. The church felt comfortable and familiar, the house provided with the position felt good and fitting, the people felt like friends and family. Boy received compliments on his preaching and positive reviews on leading the service. Their priorities fit with ours. Their style of service keeps the children in until it’s time for the sermon – a rare find and very important to us. Their theology meshes with ours and has actually helped Boy define some things. He says he didn’t know before that he was (insert this church’s denomination). Except for the fact that it’s at least six hours away from all our immediate family, it looks like the potentially perfect church for us.
The high from that weekend only lasted so long though, because then we had to wait. And wait. And wait. And we are still waiting to hear. They had another candidate they wanted to interview and he and his family came a month after us. Now they have to decide who they think will be the best person for the job and for their church, and we get to wait. Is there anything so wearing as waiting? I’m not sure getting a negative answer is worse than waiting and dreading a negative answer. Especially when it feels like your last chance. Boy has been searching for a job for almost a year and our time is running out.
To add to the stress, the pastor sent an email last week asking about our cats and how “non-negotiable” they were. I think they’re nervous about all our babies in the house after the previous residents left the (relatively small) carpeted area smelling like cat pee. I get that, but our house rarely smells like pee, and when it does, I hunt it down until it’s GONE. There are few things more humiliating for me than to have people walk into my house and have it smell. I could just die. So anyways, we said we would repair any damages done out of pocket, give them a deposit if they wanted it, and would even replace the smelly carpet on our dime. I’m desperately hoping that it’s enough, because if they come back and say they want us, but the cats can’t come, I will break. I just don’t think I can do it.
My sister says, “You aren’t willing to give them up to be where God wants you to be?” First, thanks for the support. Second, I don’t think I am. It’s just too hard. These cats are part of my family and in a strange way, they are all tied up in my losses and my faith. I don’t know how to let go of them. Maybe it makes me a bad Christian. Maybe it makes God disappointed in me (as my childhood picture of God would be). Maybe it will cost us a really great job with a really decent house in a time where we really can’t afford it. I don’t know. The one truth I know, is that God loves me. He loves me even if I can’t make big sacrifices “for him.” If I hold my cats tight, and we manage to thwart something big and miraculous and fantastic that God wants to do – he still loves me. I’m hoping that love means that whatever plans he has for us, whatever good he’s working for us, that that includes this part of our family, these animals that are so close to my heart and so much a part of my life. I don’t know really. I’m still just figuring out who God is and what he wants. The only thing I’ve got – he loves me.
So, I’m pretty familiar with the “be anxious about nothing” verse, cause you know, I’m working on it, but seriously, never been my strong point. I come from a long line of worriers. I really don’t want to be like one older lady I know, who literally worries herself sick, like, put herself in the hospital sick. I’m hoping by that age that I’ve somehow figured out how to just trust God and let things rest in his hands, but I’m not sure I’m making much progress yet. It always the wait that kills me. I don’t do well in waits. Once I know what is happening, I can usually handle it. I have seen God’s hand in our lives and know that we have never been without what we need. We’ve always had a place to live and food on the table. Should this job not work out, I know I can trust in that. But, I’m still scared and stressed.
One of the church leaders called Boy last night to ask a few questions, so we know he’s still in the running, and he seemed to think that we would know by the end of the week. Our wait may finally be coming to a close. Hoping and praying that this will be the place for us. A place to call home, a church family that feels like family, and a position where Boy can shine in the way I know he was meant to.
In the meantime, here’s hoping the migraines will leave me alone.

Posted in about me, faith, family, struggles | 4 Comments

A New Thing

Several years ago, I finally noticed that my life was not what it should be. I was depressed and I needed help. I wish I had had a better idea of what warning signs to look for, but I didn’t. I thought I was fine. Seriously, I should have known that it wasn’t ok to have mornings where it was hard to get out of bed. Where I needed to call Boy to help me put my underwear on. I just thought I was letting myself be overly dramatic, that really, I could do it, if I just made myself. I should have known that it wasn’t ok to be getting upset every time Boy came home from work, and less ok that at one point I wanted to scream, “Could you please just stop breathing?!” because everything he did, even how he breathed, was irritating me. I just thought that I was hormonal, going through a rough patch in our marriage, whatever. The realization point for me was one morning while getting ready for work. I knocked the cats water dish with my foot and soaked down my sock. Annoying, but you just go change them, right? Nope. I broke down. Sat on the floor and bawled. Finally, my head said, “This is not ok. A wet sock shouldn’t destroy you. Something is wrong.” I met with my doctor and after a few hits and misses, found anti-depressants that helped me feel normal again. I used them for two years, and then slowly weaned off through much ups and downs as my body readjusted, eventually taking over and doing the job on it’s own.
Ever since then, I’ve been terrified of heading down that path again. It stole my joy and my life. Turned my marriage into a burden. Took all my usefulness and made me nonfunctional. Every time I have a few bad days, it scares me. If things are feeling grimmer than usual, it scares me. If Boy feels especially irritating, it scares me. I know I struggled with depression as a teenager, hormones I suppose, and this deeper bout with depression was brought on by hormone imbalances (birth control pills) and stress. Now, I will never do the pill again, but guess who’s life has been full of stress for quite a while now? Yeah, mine.
Boy has been looking for work longer than he’s been out of work, and that’s been since November. I don’t know if any other hiring process is quite so stressful as within the church. I think they have more steps than other hiring processes and the waiting in between each step is often at least a month. So we are talking 5-6 months for the entire search to hire, or at least a month to find out if you’ve been rejected right off the bat. And the rest of your life in the meantime? It’s on hold. You don’t want to make any major decisions, commitments, or changes because you don’t know what your life will be like in a few months. You don’t know where you will be living, or how much income you will have, or if you will still be on hold. It’s a sucky way to live.
The past year has also been full of dealing with, well mostly waiting on, doctors and hoping/fighting/despairing over trying to find answers as to why I’ve had so many miscarriages. Either one of these big things is a lot of stress. Together they are immense and overwhelming. Throw in a bad habit of going to bed late, with a little one whose struggled with his sleep this summer, resulting in some serious sleep shortage and we have a cocktail for disaster.
A few days ago I sat down with Boy to tell him how I’d been feeling. I was worried and scared. It seemed like I was spending a lot of time irritated with him and I was pretty sure it was me, not him or our marriage (although I’m not sure spending almost every second together for the past nine months has been that great for us. We love sharing everything and being together a lot, but we never have a chance to miss each other.) Also, I thought that I maybe wasn’t being happy very often. I ended up breaking down, totally freaked out that I was headed towards depression and needing medication. He tried to calm me and said it wasn’t that bad. He’d help me keep an eye on it, but I was doing ok. He prayed with me and for me, and I prayed. In praying many of the burdens and pain I’ve been carrying for years came out. My spirit touched again by Emerging Mummy and led by the heart of a child, I poured out that my heart was full of bitterness and cynicism and irritation, and I didn’t want it anymore. I was tired of carrying it around. Despite the “coolness” of being a cynical Christian, and of being wary of emotional spiritual displays,and being too cool to be one of “those” (“Isn’t Jesus great?!!”) Christians, I didn’t want it anymore. I was tired and broken and done. I wanted my heart to be full of him, and full of love, peace, and the joy he promises. I called and he answered. Somehow I felt freer, happier, and more alive. I also felt more connected to my husband than I had in months. Things weren’t perfect. I knew I wasn’t perfectly healed or over all I’d been feeling, but I knew he had heard me.
The next day I felt like nothing had changed. I was frustrated, irritated, and breaking down again. I felt dragged under, like things were actually worse than before. Talked with Boy and felt myself falling apart. “Where is he? Why can’t I have the joy so many others have? Seriously. I can understand him not healing every cancer patient ever prayed for, not saving each baby I lost, not protecting every person from sickness or death, but when it comes to spiritual healing, why wouldn’t he give that as soon as it was asked for? Isn’t that what he wants most of all? Isn’t that what Christ is all about? Why? Why can’t I just have joy? Why would he deny that?” I don’t remember all he said, but I remember his face and him voicing his fears that I would just give up. There have been many times I’ve struggled with believing God was really real, mainly because of wondering where the peace and joy were. I know that’s not what I want. From the depths of my soul came, “I will not give up. I choose Christ. I choose joy.” He promises these things and I will not give up until I have them. I will pursue them until they are mine.
There is no explanation for how this has happened, but these past few days have held more joy for me than the past year did. I’ve had moments of overwhelming, bubbling out of me, had to giggle out loud, joy. I’ve been more connected with my husband than I have been in months. I’ve initiated more kisses with him, than several previous weeks combined. Last night, we actually played together, wrestling and teasing like little kids. I can’t remember that last time we did that. It’s not been all sunshine and roses. There are times when the fear consumes me and I worry that none of it is real, I’m going down again, where is God and joy? There are times when I’m so irritated and frustrated I could cry. There are times when the cynicism takes hold and I think, “There is no way this job for Boy will work out. This doctor won’t be able to help me, just like the others. This all has just been fleeting hope, and I will just be back where I started, wondering where God and his promises come into my life.” But, I am finding ways to connect. I’m realizing how much I need quiet time, with no chance of distraction, times to walk alone and sit at the water, and be overwhelmed by God’s Spirit. Each day is still a struggle, but if each has moments of joy, I am beginning to heal; to be a whole functioning person again, instead of pieces scattered on the floor. My heart has been a wasteland, but he is doing a new thing.
I choose Joy.
Isaiah 43: 18-19:
“See, I am doing a new thing! 
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? 
I am making a way in the desert 

and streams in the wasteland.”



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Disclaimer – Depression and faith have a very real connection, but in NO way do I think that if you are depressed it’s because of lack of faith. My faith could not save me when I experienced long term depression before, and I am very grateful that anti-depressants were available. Depression is a condition that can eat your soul from the inside out, but it’s also a medical problem. Sometimes faith can carry us through and I have seen God heal those struggling with it. Sometimes it can be managed with a good diet, sunshine, and exercise. Sometimes you need counselling. Sometimes medication is needed. More often than not, it’s a combo of these things. If you think you may be depressed, please talk with your doctor or counselor. They can help you come up with what will work for you. Please don’t suffer alone trying to ignore it, or “just get by.” I am still trying to keep an eye on how I am doing, and am constantly reevaluating if this is just a blue period where I seriously need more sleep and less stress, or if it is pointing to a greater problem.

Posted in about me, depression, faith, struggles | 4 Comments

Still Standing Still (as my heart aches)

Exactly two months ago, we finally got in to see a gynecologist. The plan was to ask for testing to see if we could find a reason that I have five miscarriages. It didn’t go how we hoped. We did the month of cycle monitoring, and then had to wait another two weeks for a follow up. That was today. The result – pretty much the same thing that went through at the first appointment – only less professional.
He came into the room, told my son to get off the “couch” and told me I had to sit there. Um, there’s a reason I’m not up there already. I hate sitting up there. It makes me feel like a child. It makes me feel more vulnerable and less like a person with rights. We’re already a bit crappy at speaking up for ourselves, so we shuffle around to our “appropriate” seats. I’m really not sure why this is an issue since Bug sat up there last time, and I definitely did not. But, maybe it has something to do with the young man standing in the corner, who we haven’t been introduces to. I have to only assume he’s a student doing some shadowing, since I get a glimpse of a McMaster badge hanging around his neck. Now, I have nothing against a student being in this appointment, but surely it would only be common courtesy to introduce him and make sure we are comfortable with his presence. Whatever.
He asks me how I am, what can he do for me?
“Um, I would like some testing, please?”
“Well, I see you are not pregnant.”
No kidding. Didn’t we have this conversation already? I’m not going to try until we can rule out causes of the miscarriages.
We are interrupted by his yelling at my son to sit down. Excuse me? Where exactly do you get off? Boy politely asks him if he having a bad day, because really he wasn’t like this last time. He says no he’s not, but this isn’t the place for tots. He should be in the waiting room and not getting into my things. You mean the completely sealed package we immediate took away and move him away from? I try to explain that I need my husband with me and we haven’t got anyone to leave Bug with, so here he is. He dismisses the issue.
We return to the frustrating circular conversation about whether or not he can do some tests for us. One moment it seems like he can, the next not. Essentially he says he has to have proof to report to the government on why he’s ordering the tests. Without proof, he can’t order them. There are no miscarriages and no reasons to do testing.
He says if we are “afraid” to get pregnant, that that is a different matter and we can check that everything is ok. What does that mean? What’s the difference? At the end he tells us he can give us a referral for genetic testing “on patient request.” (What does that mean? It won’t be covered?) We accept it, cause it’s all we’ve got right now, but it’s not enough.
I’m looking at a clinic in Toronto, and so far it sounds ok – they have a specialist who is researching repeat pregnancy loss, but I’m so nervous that we will drive all the way down there, with hope for help, only to be told the same thing, “Sorry, nothing we can do without proof.”
I was so anxious about this appointment for exactly this reason, and now it’s staring me in the face. I’m still not moving forward. It took me ages to decide to do this, ages to get the appointment, and nothing. I have to start a new route somewhere and try to keep hoping someone will do tests without us obtaining more “proof.”

God, I don’t understand. Please, send us people who will help, and who will do so with compassion. Please let us be able to find some answers without having to first get “proof.”

Posted in doctors, miscarriage | 5 Comments

Lost In the Dark

Lately I’ve been feeling like I’m failing at everything, but especially at being a mama. I think it’s probably tied into how miscarrying affects my feelings as a mother (not being able to protect them and take care of them = major mama failing), and also because being a mama is my biggest role right now. There are also so many other stressors in my life right now, that so little energy is left for this role. I find myself short on patience and ideas and energy. I’m snapping more, saying “no” a lot, and giving so little time to this one that needs me. I feel like I’m forcing him all the time. Gently forcing, but forcing none the less. I can’t figure out how to teach and guide and convince him to do the things that need to be done – like eat and sleep and tidy – without just saying, “You have to. I’m sorry you don’t want to, but this is what we’re doing,” which wouldn’t be so horrible if it didn’t turn into a fight half the time. I don’t like to physically struggle with my son to get his diaper and pajamas on, and constantly bring him back to the bed crying, because he doesn’t want to sleep, he wants to play; or tell him again and again, “Eat. Eat. EAT. It’s supper time. You need to eat,” and then deal with him saying at bedtime, “I’m hungry,” and knowing that it might very well be true, because he didn’t actually eat that much at supper, but now he really needs to sleep, and if I let him eat, he’ll end up being overtired and not sleeping very well, except if he really is hungry he won’t sleep well either. (ahhh! deep breath)
Anyways, I’m super struggling with the whole discipline (as in teaching, not as in punishing) thing, and I’m not really sure how to figure it out. I’m frequently drawn to the “let your child express themselves/be their own person/work with, not against” style of parenting, but occasionally it does seem to go too far or have a very humanist view point. I very much want my parenting to be Biblically sound (not in the “you must spank you child” kind of way, cause I really don’t think it says that), to honor God, and to teach my son just how much God loves him, but I can’t figure out what that all means or how to do that. So I have these two ideas about parenting that I think should mesh, but no idea how do either one, let alone put them together. My lack of energy and patience is not helping.
I feel like I’m hunting for gold, except I only have this vague idea of what a mine is, I’ve never heard of a pick-axe, and my headlight is on backwards. As I search through this semi-darkness, stumbling around, I can only hope I’ll do more good than harm, and perhaps someone who’s been this way will pass by and offer a helping hand.

Posted in discipline, parenting, struggles | 8 Comments

On Failing and Contenment

Finding myself struggling today. I’ve actually been struggling for a while now with feelings of failure. I think it’s pretty common with those that have trouble carrying a child. Not being able to carry out this basic, intrinsic function can leave a women feeling less than, and incomplete, and not enough, and well, broken. It does a pretty good job on your self-esteem, often causing this feeling to flow out into other aspects of your life, and can make a gal feel like she’s just not good at anything and is constantly failing. Well, at least that’s my experience anyway.
I’ve been feeling like I’m failing as a wife, a mother, a home maker, and well, just being me and taking care of myself. So many days are made up of randomness, disorganization, and problems. We started this family schedule, but have we managed to actually make it through a day on the schedule? Maybe once. I’m gaining weight, not getting the exercise I want, and spending far too much time online. Boy is supposed to have time to work on some writing he is doing, but it’s constantly being overrun by the family things that don’t end up staying in their scheduled place. Bug is not eating well enough and spending far too much time watching television, which I can see in his whining and inability to imagine something that’s not from his favorite show. Wow. Just writing this out is making me feel terrible. Of course, that’s probably also partly due to the fact that it’s twenty to twelve and I’m still up instead of in bed, where I should have been about two hours ago, since I am so short on sleep (therefore also everything else) lately. To sum up – I’ve been very miserable lately and feeling like I’m not good enough at anything.
In reading some posts by Emerging Mummy (If you aren’t reading her, you should be. Her writing is beautiful and inspiring.) like this one, I’ve been realizing that my life is seriously missing some joy and contentment. I am certainly not happy right now. Here’s the part I’m struggling with today – scripture tells us learning to be content is important, but I’m pretty sure how we are currently living is not very God honoring. How do I have contentment and welcome joy in, while realizing there are things in my life that need improvement, especially when considering trying to fix most of these things is incredibly daunting (like so overwhelming it keeps me from moving daunting)? How do I strive for a higher goal while still being content with how things are? I know I need the peace of contentment, but I also know that things can’t go on as they are and changes need to be made. I’m currently so messed up inside, and this internal struggle and lack of answers is making my brain feel like it’s bouncing around in my skull trying to get out. (It makes you understand why little kids have temper tantrums, because I’m getting closer and closer to wanting to throw things.)
The best I have tonight is the very real situation that I need far more sleep than I’m getting. First step – go to bed on time! Second step – seek God. That’s all I’ve got. I need to find some way to make sense of this all, and they say he has the answers. Of course, even that seems daunting right now, and I’m really afraid that I’m going to fail at that too. Trying to make daily time for God has been difficult for several years, and I can’t figure out how to make it work.
Somebody pray for me.

Posted in faith, struggles | 7 Comments