cj’s birth story

THE DAYS BEFORE.

After making it through Eliza’s birthday (12/10) and birthday party (12/11), as well as a few end-of-the-year Christmas parties, we had finally made it to Sunday, our day of rest. A quick COVID test in the morning kicked off our 48-hours of quarantine before a scheduled induction on Tuesday morning, December 14, 2021.

Around 10:30pm on that Sunday night, I started having contractions that lasted a minute and were about 10 minutes apart. This went on for about two hours, and the Lord used this round of false labor to expose the fear and control I had in my heart. CJ’s birth was not up to my physical strength or my timing. God’s strength alone would carry me through labor, day or night, and His timing would be perfect. God used this false labor to help make my final day without CJ born more real, to move it from my logical thought process of having a baby to my heart—to feel the weight of his soon-to-be arrival.

On that Monday (12/13), we had a family day, and I was more present than I would have been because of God’s grace to work on my heart, treasuring time with Kevin, Lydia and Eliza, a warm winter day’s sunshine that allowed us to play outside, and my last day of pregnancy. As I tucked Lydia and Eliza into bed and said goodnight, I came out to the living room couch and wept. The last night of just the two of them without their little brother around. I wrote in Lydia’s prayer journal that night, after having written in Eliza’s the day before. I am so proud of who they both are and the people they are becoming.

THE MORNING.

Kevin and I woke up around six in the morning and embraced. I did the slow roll out of bed that comes with being 9-months pregnant. It had been a physically challenging pregnancy with debilitating lower back pain for most of it. I was long ready to be on the other side. Kevin and I spent the next 45 minutes mostly in silence as we got ready. Little words were spoken, only prayers in our hearts for the day. We woke up Lydia and Eliza and got them ready to go over to my parent’s house in town.

7:15am

As we drove to my parent’s house and on the way to the hospital, God gave us the most beautiful sunrise I have ever seen in Lawrence, Kansas. It was utterly shocking. The words that came across my mind immediately were these: Who is like our God?

[NOTE: If you know my story, you know that these words are significant to me. Who is like our God is the meaning of “Micah” in Hebrew. Micah is the name of the baby we lost to miscarriage in January 2021.]

Immediately I felt Micah with me. This gift from God felt so personal. Like He wanted to just show off and lavish me with His comfort and love. Tears welled as I dropped Lydia and Eliza off, and I sensed Micah remained with me. Thank you God for the most perfect morning.

The song “The Bones” by Maren Morris came on as we drove north down Iowa Street to the hospital, a song that Kevin and I have listened to many times together. A song about handling adversity with someone you love, but not falling or breaking because the foundation is strong. In the hard journey of this last year, our foundation has been built on the rock of Christ. Our marriage has remained strong. No matter what life threw at us, we stood firm in faith and love. I added this song to our labor playlist as the final song and sang out loud as we drove.

8:55am

After getting checked in, IV set up, and getting to know our nurse Colleen, my sister Rosie arrived. We caught up briefly before Dr. Riggs came in to break my water. I was dilated at 5cm, 80% effaced, -2 station. While I hadn’t felt a contraction yet, labor started.

10:18am

After an hour of walking up and down hallways, waiting for contractions to start, I finally felt a slightly stronger contraction.

11:30am

We spent more time walking up and down the hallways, and while I had a few contractions here and there, I was starting to get impatient and feel anxious. Morning was closing down, and so far, I was progressing slower than I had during my induction with Eliza. We returned to the room, and I started considering Pitocin – a medicine that would increase labor and speed of contractions. While I talked this over with Kevin and Rosie, the nurse walked in to tell us that CJ’s heart rate was dropping with contractions. This was most likely a sign that the cord was wrapped around his body somewhere, and likely wrapped around his neck. I was no longer allowed to leave the room. We needed to monitor Caleb’s heart rate closely from here. As I processed this news, the fear and longing to hold my son came. Just as I was considering Pitocin one last time, I felt contractions picking up. I moved to sitting on the stability ball to start active labor.

Shortly after, active labor was increasing, and so was the pain. I looked at my husband and sister in one moment and said, “I feel weak. I feel weaker than I’ve been with past labors.” Kevin shared the gospel truth of God’s strength in me. After a pause, Rosie looked at me and said, “Maggie, you are weak. And THIS is the year you actually embraced that you are weak. You’ve acknowledged that you need God’s strength in ways you never have before, that you can’t do it on your own. Because of this, you’re stronger than I’ve ever seen you before.”

The Holy Spirit took over in that moment. I was reminded instantly of my prayer for 2021: “embrace my humanness.” Many were praying this over my life, and I remember writing it down the day before our miscarriage and asking God to help me understand that my humanness – my brokenness, weakness, and imperfections – were beautiful because HE created me human, and HE designed me to be dependent on Him to be made complete and experience true joy and peace.

This was a turning point for me in labor. I embraced my humanness, my weakness, just like I had all year long. God’s strength became alive in me.

11:55am

I had progressed to 6cm, 0 station. I asked my nurse what position would make labor go the quickest. She recommended laboring on my side with the peanut-shaped ball between my legs.

Rosie and Kevin repeated “keep breathing, relax, stay in control. God’s giving you His strength in each breath.” Kevin held my hand and kept his face near mine, whispering encouragement and truth, while Rosie put pressure on my back when I needed it. I continued to repeat “God’s strength in me” in my mind, sometimes out loud, through most remaining contractions.

12:34pm

As I had at this point mentally prepared to be in labor longer, I decided to try to make it to the bathroom. After using the toilet and enduring a contraction there, I saw blood dripping down my legs. My nurse came in at that moment letting me know that was my “bloody show” and sternly telling me to get back in the hospital bed so she could check me. I was at 8cm, and she said she was going to call in Dr. Riggs.

12:40pm

Within five minutes of returning to the hospital bed, I was feeling the urge to push. I told Kevin this as the room filled with additional nurses and shortly after, my doctor. The nurses and staff all commented on how calm the room was and what great music we had. Maverick City Music’s “Not Afraid” featuring Naomi Raine & Mav City Gospel Choir had just started. One nurse who walked in said, “Jesus-music playing in here. This is my playlist at home!” Dr. Riggs, now gowned and ready, checked me and I was dilated at 10cm! She moved me into the pushing position and told me to push at the next contraction. As she was saying that, a contraction had already started. “Do you mean this one that’s starting right now?” I asked. I got the confirmation to push once and CJ crowned immediately. My doctor paused me long enough to check for a cord around CJ’s neck, and there was no cord. I got the go ahead to push again.

12:45pm

At 12:45pm, just 45 minutes after my moment of weakness and crying out to the Lord, before the 4-minute song ended, Caleb Jordan was born. In the words of Dr. Riggs, he was born with “one push and half a contraction.”

As God’s strength had taken over and the words “I’m not afraid” rang out from the song, I’ve been reminded of truly what a holy moment that was. The lyrics perfectly coincided with the verse that we chose for Caleb Jordan’s nursery and have been praying over his life: “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

Kevin immediately started weeping and I cried out “My son, my son!” repeatedly. It took him a few seconds to start crying, so nurses were using towels to dry him off and get him to start screaming. As the cry started Caleb also started peeing which made us laugh with joy as he was set on my chest. We have a boy! We embraced and treasured our son in our arms.

1:05pm

We saw CJ’s dark hair and deep, blue-grey eyes, similar to his sisters, but other than those features he looked so unique. We examined him head to toe, and I also closed my eyes to just feel him. “It is Well” by Bethel came on the speaker. As Dr. Riggs stitched me up, reporting no major tears, she joked, “I wish you would have pushed more so we could have jammed out to your music longer!” She also told CJ before she left the room that he was one of the luckiest kids she knew. Colleen, our nurse who has been doing labor and delivery for 20+ years, told us later that his birth was one of the most beautiful births she had ever witnessed between our worship of God, our calm and control, and Kevin and my love and support for each other. Another nurse came back in to tell us, “The way you two were together—and maybe it was the music—I just had to say, that was beautiful.” I treasure all these words and praise God for creating such a holy space for Caleb’s birth, and write them here so one day I can share them with my son, remembering every detail.

2:20pm

I needed medicine to help my uterus continue to contract because it was not firming up fast enough. Kevin enjoyed his first skin to skin time with CJ and Rosie returned with Chipotle for my lunch. The nurse took CJ’s vitals, and after speculating over/under 9 pounds, we all cheered and laughed when the scale showed us: 9 pounds, 12 ounces. He measured 21.5 inches – so he passed Eliza in weight and Lydia in height, making him our biggest baby of our three!

GOING HOME.

At 6am the next morning, during an early morning nursing hour, Kevin and I turned on The Voice season finale. This was a redemptive moment for us. In January, we had watched the Season 19 finale during our actual miscarrying and passing of baby Micah. We would pause the show during frequent trips to the bathroom and sessions of tears, and it helped distract the pain of the cramping and miscarriage that lasted late into the night. It’s not a memory I choose to look back on often, but as the Lord redeems in ways ever so personal, He redeemed this memory too. We watched Season 21 of The Voice finale, but this time with Caleb born, holding him in our arms.

We had just a few performances left to watch when a nurse came in early to take Caleb away to do his circumcision, so we stopped the show and tried to get another hour of sleep.

As we were preparing to leave and waiting on discharge medications, we decided to play the final few minutes of the season finale. I set out a few different outfits to dress CJ for coming home. The final performance by Wendy Moten was “Over the Rainbow.” I looked down at the two rainbow outfits I held in my two hands, gifted to us for our “rainbow baby.” I said out loud to Kevin, “Well, this song is appropriate,” and held up the rainbows to show him.

Kevin, holding Caleb in his arms, immediately broke into tears, and my tears came shortly after as I processed the weight of that moment.

We miscarried Micah while watching the finale of this show.
We held Caleb close in the hospital while watching the finale of this show.
We were minutes away from going home, from bringing our healthy baby boy home.
The final song of the episode, that we happened to be watching in this moment, sang so beautifully, was “Over the Rainbow.”

God sees us.
God redeems our pain and restores our joy, so personally.
Thank you, God, for your great love.

Kevin and I held each other and cried as we looked down at Caleb Jordan Tietz, our rainbow baby, our unexpected miracle. And within minutes from that moment, we took him home.

–

When God made you, CJ, this much is true—
the world got to meet who God already knew.

naming caleb jordan.

1 Comment

With great joy, Kevin and I named our daughters Lydia Evelyn and Eliza Rose within hours after finding out their genders around 20 weeks pregnant. Our last pregnancy, we had decided on “Micah” boy or girl and had been referring to Micah by name within a few days after we found out we were pregnant.

Through our first two pregnancies with Lydia and Eliza, Micah had been our top boy’s name. We’d hardly even considered other boy names because we were so sure of it. So, after losing Micah to miscarriage, and nearing halfway on our rainbow-baby pregnancy, brainstorming boy names were a total blank slate.

As we awaited the gender, “Baby J” had been this baby’s nickname from early on, mostly due to the Jayhawk mascot and being a KU family! Along the way, we also wondered if this kid would have a J name and the nickname “J” would stick for the rest of their life. When it came down to the week of our gender reveal, we had our top three girl names and top three boy names, and all of them started with the letter “J” except one late addition: Caleb.

Caleb means faithful, whole-hearted devotion, brave, and courageous. It was the meaning behind this name that drew us in most, as I’ll get into more later. As the days before our gender reveal grew closer, we landed on our top girl’s name, but our boy’s name remained unclear. Every time we casually discussed boy names, ultimately, we couldn’t even fathom having a boy! The very thought that blue balloons could come out of that box felt so surreal to me that naming a son was even less comprehendible. So, Kevin and I stacked hands on our girl’s name and when it came to our boy’s name we agreed: let’s cross that bridge when we get there.

T H E . R E V E A L .

On the Sunday before our 20-week appointment and gender reveal, I was sitting in church, and our pastor closed his sermon by inviting us to intentionally avoid distractions and listen to the voice of God. I had been preoccupied all sermon-long recounting regrets from the day and overanalyzing what others thought of me, constantly replaying situations in my head. As I paused to ask God what He had to say and put away the tormenting distractions in my mind, the Holy Spirit brought this Scripture to mind:

“If we are faithless, He remains faithful” (2 Timothy 2:13).

God, I feel so faithless, and so full of doubt…
“I AM FAITHFUL.”
This year, this season, it’s been so hard…
“I AM FAITHFUL.”
But God, what if…?
“I AM FAITHFUL.”

My thoughts had been interrupted, and I could not get His words “I am faithful” out of my head. It was as if the very voice of God had been written on my heart. I could no longer think of my faithless regrets, only of the Grace that comes through Christ alone. Praise God, even in our doubts and disbeliefs, even when we lack faith, HE IS FAITHFUL.

As we were driving away after church, I shared this moment with Kevin. I knew that God wanted to draw my attention away from my faithlessness in that moment and focus my attention on His faithfulness – and to give my God the worship and glory He deserves. To rest in His grace. I also told Kevin, with open hands: “If we are having a boy, did God just give me his name? Will our son’s name forever remind me that God is faithful?”

I pondered these things in my heart, but Wednesday’s reveal still needed to come.

O U R . B O Y .

Even though I had said that out loud to Kevin days before, that Lydia had insisted all pregnancy that Baby J was a boy, and I’d had a dream about being pregnant with a boy two weeks before our positive test… still I doubted and convinced myself that we were having a third girl. We had an all-girl family, and surely that’s how it would always be…

We had decided to save the special moment of finding out the gender of Baby J until we could have the moment with our daughters Lydia and Eliza at our sides. After a healthy 20-week appointment and the gender sealed in an envelope, we gave the sealed envelope to a dear friend who put together a box filled with balloons and streamers for the reveal. We invited a few close friends and family to join in the celebration. This same friend caught on video our reaction: shock, surprise, excitement, and literal jumping for joy when blue balloons and streamers indeed poured over our heads!

It’s a boy! He’s a boy! We are having a son!

While we processed all the emotions – the excitement, the fear, the joy – it was within the full week after this reveal that God confirmed our son’s name, Caleb Jordan. His nickname around the house has slowly changed from Baby J to Baby CJ.

C A L E B . J O R D A N .

Most of 2020 through the start of 2021 was a difficult season for our family, even before our miscarriage in January. Heading into the year, the Lord gave Kevin the word “courage.” His constant prayer: Lord, give me more courage. Kevin’s conviction was that it’s not about getting things right or having the right answers, but simply having more courage. For me, I felt that I was constantly being reminded into the new year to “embrace my humanness.” My conviction was that it’s not about my ability to be faithful on my own, but that God alone is faithful, and He created me—human—to depend on Him, and that dependence is not weakness; that dependance is beautiful.

As I mentioned earlier, Caleb means “faithful, whole-hearted devotion, brave, and courageous.” It truly was the meaning of his name that we couldn’t get past because of how it fit with the exact words and prayers we’d been praying for in this season of our life. It encompassed both the word COURAGE and FAITHFUL. We needed courage to rise redeemed out of a season of darkness and to re-enter hope and intimate relationships. We needed our faith to be dependent on God and not on ourselves in the depths of our grief.

As we look back on this entire season, it was more than just that moment sitting in church and hearing God draw my attention to His faithfulness, but GOD has made His faithfulness known throughout our entire pregnancy with Caleb Jordan, from the unplanned timing of conception to the joy of discovering we will raise a son!

For his middle name, Jordan means “to flow down.” The Jordan River has very significant symbolism in the Bible and has provided several meanings for us. Water is a representation of new life. Just as Caleb Jordan is the sign of new life after loss, so water represents new life in Christ through baptism.

Secondly, the Jordan River is another symbol and reminder of God’s faithfulness to His people. After wondering 40 years in the desert, after decades of unfaithfulness and turning away from the Lord, God carries the Hebrew people through the Jordan River and into the Promised Land. The Israelites were faithless, but God remained faithful. And then, centuries later, God chooses to send His son Jesus into the world – the ultimate symbol of His faithfulness to a faithless human race. God had spoken of Jesus’ coming through the kings and prophets, and again He was faithful to carry out His promise. And where does Jesus’ ministry begin? Jesus’ ministry begins with His baptism in the Jordan River.

The Jordan River is where Jesus was baptized and truly began His ministry on earth after 30 years of waiting (Mark 1:9-11).

Together, Caleb Jordan means “faithfulness and courage flow down.” And wow, has God’s faithfulness and courage flowed down from heaven to us through this precious life!

T H E . N A M I N G .

After a weekend trip away, about a week after the reveal, I was sitting down during Lydia and Eliza’s nap time and praying that God would confirm our son’s name to me. I was drawn to study the Scriptures and the life of Caleb, a courageous and faithful warrior. I found the account in Numbers 13-14 of Caleb, who enters to story as one who took part in Israel’s great exodus from Egypt, through the parting of the Red Sea, a rising leader among the tribe of Judah. As I read that story, I saw Caleb’s faithfulness and whole-hearted devotion to God in the face of disapproval and even death. I saw Caleb’s courage to speak out against all of Israel to trust in God’s faithfulness. I read about the way that God honored Caleb’s whole-hearted devotion and courage by allowing him to be one among only two from his generation that would see Israel indeed experience and receive the Promised Land.

As I read Numbers 13:30, the words nearly leapt off the page: “Then Caleb quieted the people in the presence of Moses and said, ‘Let’s go up now and take possession of the land because we can certainly conquer it!’”

Again, in Numbers 14:8-9, Caleb along with Joshua persist against Israel’s betrayal and faithlessness, saying: “Don’t rebel against the Lord and don’t be afraid of the people of the land… the Lord is with us. Don’t be afraid of them!”

And yet, Israel chooses to deny God, and as God’s just wrath comes, God spares Caleb and acknowledges his faithfulness: “But since my servant Caleb has a different spirit and has remained loyal to me, I will bring him into the land where he has gone, and his descendants will inherit it” Numbers 14:24.

This kind of courage, this kind of faithfulness, that is our prayer for our Caleb Jordan. That he would live a life of courage and whole-hearted devotion to his God and King. In this moment that I was praying for our son, Kevin spontaneously walked in the door, and we studied the Scriptures together. Tears filled our eyes and we prayed. God had just revealed Caleb Jordan’s name to us.

1 0 . W E E K S . L A T E R .

The past 10 weeks have been a blur since that day, and as I write this, I am nearly 32 weeks pregnant. CJ is moving all the time, day and night, whether I’m laying down, sitting, or walking. We just finished a very busy few months of work and life and I should be spending more time on the couch. Lydia and Eliza love watching CJ grow and give him hugs and kisses and talk with him every single day. Lydia is constantly asking questions about his arrival and always follows up on how his doctor’s appointments go. Lydia and Eliza have both made a habit of praying for baby CJ at night to grow healthy and strong. Our whole family is counting down the weeks until his arrival!

With only 8 weeks to go, I’m trying to start a small baby registry and think about boy nursery items but the little boy clothes and decor all still feel very foreign to me. As we transition Eliza to her sister’s room and start getting CJ’s room ready in a few weeks, I wonder if adding a third, a son, to our family will start to feel more real. Chasing two toddlers with physical pain and fatigue from pregnancy don’t allow much time for planning and dreaming for the future, but it also makes the moments that I stop to pray or dream that much sweeter.

Lord, thank you for this little life. Thank you for Caleb Jordan. Thank you for our son. May he continuously remind us of Your faithfulness flowing down to us and to have courage no matter what season we are in. We can’t wait to meet you, CJ.

rainbow baby.

FIRST APPOINTMENT.

Perhaps it was the distraction of vacation or the shock and joy of our pregnancy, but the fear and anxiety of pregnancy after loss didn’t set in until Kevin and I were laying in bed together the night before our first appointment. I broke down in tears.

Our appointment. Our appointment was where we found out that Micah’s heart had stopped beating. Everything was fine before our appointment.

Kevin and I prayed together and once again had to relinquish control and trust God. We just needed to get to the other side of our appointment.

It all felt so familiar – except for one major difference. Thank God, Kevin was at the appointment with me. (He was not able to come to our sonogram with Micah due to COVID.) We held hands as the sonogram started.

“This baby is measuring much smaller than your projected due date,” the sonogram tech said immediately.

After a deep breath, I let my sonogram tech know our story. I let her know that there was absolutely zero chance that this baby was conceived between the window of 7-9 weeks ago. With that, she assured me that she was no longer worried about baby’s size. Our baby had a healthy heartbeat and healthy size for a 6-week pregnancy. They moved my due date back about two weeks.

Turns out, I had ovulated 12 days late.
Our due date?
December 17.
Right in between mine and Eliza’s birthdays.
The exact week we wanted to avoid.

But at that point, I could care less about the shared birthday week.
The only thing that mattered: our baby was healthy.

While we celebrated, we also kept up our hearts guarded. Micah’s heartbeat didn’t stop until 10 weeks. We still had a long way to go.

SECOND APPOINTMENT.

Our second appointment was set for 10.5 weeks pregnant and the day before we left for our Young Life summer assignment. This timing almost mirrored the same appointment we found out about our last loss. As first trimester nausea began to cease and a few trips provided much-needed distractions, anxiety came in again as Kevin and I left for our second appointment.

There was nothing I could do to control any of the circumstances. We just needed to get to the other side of our appointment.

The plan was to detect baby’s heartbeat on the Doppler with our nurse practitioner. When she came in the room, she assured me that I was on the early side so if they didn’t catch a heartbeat, not to be immediately worried.

Within 15 seconds of doing the Doppler and no heartbeat detected, she stopped suddenly and said, “We’re doing a sonogram.”

Kevin and I just waited anxiously behind a closed door for our sonogram.
More waiting.

When the sonogram tech got us and led us to the room for our sonogram, Kevin held my hand tight again. I took a deep breath, in this all-too-familiar space, staring at the screen in front of me.

Within two seconds of our baby being on the screen, the sonogram tech knew what I needed to hear, “Your baby is a great size and a healthy heartbeat.”

I wept.
Instantly.
I cried so hard that she had to stop the sonogram.
I couldn’t stop crying.
–tears of absolute relief and gratitude.

When I finally could regain control of my breathing and slow down my tears, we started the sonogram again. Our tech explained that my placenta was anterior which is why they couldn’t pick up baby’s heartbeat on the Doppler. She assured me that was normal, and we even got to see our baby wave and kick!

Finally, we could take a deep breath. We allowed ourselves to fully celebrate this little life.

THE END TO THE FIRST TRIMESTER.

To be honest, it feels like I’ve waiting 6 months to be out of my first trimester. And I’ve never been happier to see my baby bump grow than I have these last few weeks! At almost 15 weeks, Lydia and Eliza have taken notice of “Baby J” growing. Lydia has started praying for Baby J at night and praising God for his life. (She’s convinced he’s a boy…we will see at 20 weeks!) Lydia even taught Eliza how to “kiss” Baby J on my belly and at night they take turns kissing my belly. This new daily routine is the sweetest gift.

There have been so many mixed emotions this pregnancy.
I have cried as many tears for Micah in this pregnancy as I did before. I still miss Micah.
Yet I also rejoice in this new life.
Sitting in the tension of both of those emotions—joy and grief—in a way I never have quite before.
To rejoice is to also grieve, and to grieve is to also rejoice.

Yet I need to feel and experience each emotion separately.
I need to remind myself that grieving Micah doesn’t mean loving “Baby J” any less.
Celebrating Baby J doesn’t mean missing Micah any less.
To be honest, I’m still sitting in this tension.

There are days when I have peace, but still moments when I break down and cry as the heartbreak of losing a child and the tension between the two emotions overwhelm me.

ALL I KNOW.

If there is anything that this fourth pregnancy has shown me, it’s that I literally can’t take control, even when I try! The fact that our pregnancy was an unplanned surprise has somehow given me more peace to let go and let God be God.

Early in pregnancy I came across this Bible verse: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:8-9)

God’s ways are not my ways, His thoughts are not my thoughts. His ways are higher, higher than I can comprehend. All I know is I need Him. I run to the Father and I fall into His grace… again, and again, and again.

So here we go. December, you don’t scare me anymore.

We are ready for you baby number 4, our rainbow baby.
We are ready to name you, find out your gender, and prepare our home for you.
We are ready to meet you, hold you, and raise you.
You are the one we’ve been waiting for.

God chose you, and we choose you too.
We are yours, and you are mine.

THE TREE.

THE TREE IN THE GARDEN.

The Bible starts out telling us about a different tree. The tree of life that holds the knowledge of good and evil. God created humankind through Adam and Eve and gave them complete freedom in the garden with only one rule: do not eat the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil (Genesis 2:15). Yet they were convinced by the Enemy’s promise for God-like wisdom and chose to eat the fruit from the tree and disobey God (Genesis 3:6).

The Enemy was wrong. The Enemy had deceived them. Instead of becoming like God, Adam and Eve were overcome by guilt, shame, brokenness, and fear.

Because humankind turned away from God, sin entered the world. And because we continue to turn away from God every day, choosing to listen to the voice of the Accuser and give in to the desires of our flesh, sin reigns.

I don’t think I need to convince you that we live in a world still today where guilt, shame, brokenness, and fear reign. From a competitive pressure to be the best, the smartest, the prettiest or have the most—and we fall short of unreachable expectations—we are covered in guilt (you haven’t done enough) and shame (you’ll never be enough). Within a country that is so polarized that we are making the simple fact of ending racism or wearing a mask during a pandemic something that’s political—and no systemic solutions in sight—we are broken. And in the midst of it all, we are consumed by fear.

I was listening to a new PitBull song recently and his words struck me: The only thing that spreads faster than any virus is fear. I think I shouted an “Amen!” back at PitBull through my car stereo the first time I ever heard that song. There’s never been a time in my life where I’ve seen this more present than during COVID-19. Our world is controlled by fear.

where is our
hope?
Where is our sign of life
in the midst of our
grief?

THE TREE ON THE HILL.

When sin entered the world, God had a plan for restoration that involved another tree. Jesus was killed on a Cross, a tree stripped of roots and branches. In this undeserving death God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ (2 Corinthians 5:21). Hallelujah.

Through faith in Christ, we are made right with God and our relationship with Him is restored! He frees us from guilt, shame, brokenness and fear through His blood shed on the Cross.

This tree is now our
sign of life
in the midst of our
grief.

And friends, this is good news. We have life and hope in the midst of the never-ending trials of this world because our hope is in a God who rose from the dead and is making things new. We believe that we were not merely created for a comfortable and happy life, a life that comes and goes like a breath in time, but we believe that God created us for a greater purpose. He has promised for those of us who believe in Him that as we put away our sin and love others, He will produce in us love, joy, and peace in place of our brokenness.

He doesn’t just remove our sin. He redeems it. And as He rose from the dead, He calls us to rise.

Will you rise redeemed with me in the midst of your fear? Will you choose positivity and gratitude in the midst of a dark season of guilt, shame, or brokenness? Will you strive for peace with those around you, instead of division? Will you choose to believe that “He who started a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6)?

Will you hold on to our sign of life (Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection) in the midst of our grief?

He has called us higher than simply getting through. Just as He is the vine, and He has called us to be the branches and to bear fruit—fruit that will last (John 15:1-17). He has called us to pursue hospitality and love in the midst of physical distancing (Romans 12:13). He has called us to fight for racial justice in the midst of racism in our systems (Romans 2:11). He has called us to stand firm in our faith and use our voices to speak the truth in love, being a light to the world (Ephesians 6:13, Matthew 5:14).

I read this quote recently, written before COVID-19, but I believe it applies well: “Our goal in life is not simply to survive the current hard thing in hopes that it will be our last. Rather, we endure whatever God has for us to the very end, believing God’s promises even when we can’t see the outcome” (Risen Motherhood).

If you’re still reading, I pray there is something God has for you in all of this to encourage you. Take a deep breath. Go outside and sit in the shade under a tree. My friend, as He speaks, listen. He is our life.

pandemic milestone.

May 17, 2020May 18, 2020Leave a comment

It’s not a wedding, or a graduation, or a funeral, or the birth of a child. This milestone may seem small on the outside, or small from the casual smile and shrug when you ask me. But the truth is that it hit me deep in the soul. My first milestone to occur during the COVID-19 pandemic: my daughter’s second birthday.

Two months ago, many in Kansas said that May 15 would be the date that things would start to get better. While some stay-at-home orders have lifted, it’s not the end, and it turns out we are nowhere close to an end in sight.

Don’t get me wrong, I know I have it good. My family is beyond blessed. But the purpose of this writing and this processing is an effort to not play the “comparative suffering” game. In my own circumstances, I am processing loss and change. I must grieve.

O U R . G R I E F .

I’m grieving that the last two months of Lydia’s second year of life, she didn’t hug nor play with many of her favorite people. She didn’t go to many of her favorite places. No kids church, no toddler gymnastics, no parks, no visit to see her grandparents in Texas, no play dates or babysitters, no chance to be the flower girl in our friends’ wedding, no softball or baseball games… the list could go on.

The things I am missing out on as an adult pale in comparison to the loss I feel for my daughter. My heart aches for her. It hurts. I feel a weight that is hard to explain. The pain I feel for Lydia’s loss of life’s experiences, diversity of people, sports, and activity is multitudes more than my own loss.

Day by day, I make an effort to focus on the positives. But for a moment, I can’t escape from what’s been hard. Like the moment when, during a “social distance” dinner with friends in our driveway, Lydia knew to keep a distance before I even told her. She learned from imitating the actions she saw everyone else doing to keep a distance. Or the moment when she asked if her two best friends could come to her birthday party, but she’s too young to understand why the answer is no. Or when she asks to go to the gym and upon hearing it’s closed, she responds with a prayer: Please God, open the gym! I admit that her prayer has more faith than my own.

And while she is too young to understand a global pandemic or perhaps even recognize a daily difference, more than it’s hurting her, it’s hurting me.

Outside of social media and select family, now for over two months, some of our closest friends aren’t seeing the beautiful young girl that she has grown into over the past few months.

They’ve never heard her sweet excited voice speak in full sentences or sing entire songs.
They’ve never heard her use the words please, thank you, I’m sorry, great job, I’m proud of you, and I love you—words in her daily vocabulary.
They’ve never heard her makes jokes just to get you to laugh.
They’ve never seen her use her newfound imagination to play “make believe.”

So much has happened in her little life. She picked up a ball bat and took a swing for the first time. And let’s not forget the fact that she’s potty trained! They’ve never seen her pride and joy every time she makes it to the potty, just waiting for mama and dada’s celebration and her piece of chocolate reward.

I wish they could see.

O U R . T I M E .

Some days the quarantine feels like life has paused.
like we’ve slowed down,
and
we can appreciate the simpler moments.

But as this milestone passed us,
it reminded me that
time
doesn’t
stand still.

Time moves forward no matter how much we try to slow it down.

No matter how many things are canceled
no matter how many free evenings and weekends we have

Time moves on.

Which is why, I must remind myself of truth: these losses are not worth dwelling on. Time goes far too quickly to dwell on the things you can’t control.

I must grieve,
yes,
and then
let go.

I must move on.

I must let go of the what-ifs and could-have-been and remember what is eternally important.

.

This quarantine has been an incredible opportunity to teach Lydia real life skills and to rejoice in the simple pleasures of life. Every night, we recite our family motto together: “We are the Tietz Family,” Kevin and I start, “and in this family we…”

Lydia usually prefers to finish it herself. “We live simply, give more, and expect less… because we have all we need in Jesus.”

She may have it memorized, but that doesn’t mean she knows what it means. Well, not yet. We are planting seeds that one day, we pray, will bear fruit.

We are modeling a family that eats meals together, takes care of each other, laughs together, prays together, reads God’s Word together, exercises together, takes care of our home and yard together, forgives, celebrates, and loves.

We are modeling a family that endures. We don’t always get what we want, and not everything in life will be in our control. We have to be brave when things are hard. We have to ask for God’s help when we are afraid.

We have to remember to live simply, give more, and expect less.
Why?
Because we really, truly, have all we need in Jesus.
and
for eternity
that’s what counts.

Lord, help me let go.

O U R . H O P E .

On April 29, 2019, I started reading the Bible chronologically with the hopes of finishing it in a year. 364 days later, I finished Revelation 22, the last chapter.

I was reminded in that chapter of our eternal hope. The timing was fitting. By the way, this is how the entire Bible ends:

‘I, Jesus, have sent my angel to testify to you about these things for the churches. I am the root and the descendant of David, the bright morning star.’ The Spirit and the Bride say, ‘Come.’ And let the one who hears say, ‘Come.’ And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price.

…He who testifies to these things says, ‘Surely I am coming soon.’ Amen. Come, Lord Jesus! (Revelation 22:16-17, 20)

Jesus reminds us that He is the promised one, the one that fulfilled all the laws and all the prophecies from of old. And we are reminded that those who want Jesus, get Jesus. The one who is thirsty can come to Him, drink from the water of life without price.

There is no price to pay,
no checklist of things we must do,
or we must achieve,
or we must get right before we come.

We get to come without price because Jesus paid the price for our sin on the Cross. And He promises that He will come again.

.

So when we see the pandemic at hand, the death count rising, with no end in sight
Come, Lord Jesus!
When we read yet another headline of a racially driven murder
Come, Lord Jesus!
When we feel helpless to comfort friends, spouses, children, or parents, those we love the most
Come, Lord Jesus!
When our private thoughts and actions are exposed, and we must confess our own sin
Come, Lord Jesus!
When we hold walls up to others or self-harm because it feels like the only thing we can control
Come, Lord Jesus!

When we teach our kids that we have “all we need in Jesus,” this is what we mean: All of our hope, our joy, and our satisfaction is found not in material things. It’s found not in the exhilarating experiences of life like sporting events or big parties. Whether homebound or traveling the world, whether richer or poorer, whether sickness or health, no matter our circumstances, our hope in Jesus is one thing that doesn’t change, even when our world changes.

.

So as I reflect on Lydia’s second birthday and let go of birthday party hopes and dreams, or what could have been for her these last few months, I am reminded of the opportunity to point my daughter to her ultimate hope. No matter the trials she faces in her life on this earth, may those seeds be planted, that even she has all she needs – not in mama or dada or birthday cake or balloons – but in Jesus.

In Lydia’s heart, mind, and soul
Come, Lord Jesus.

life with two.

March 9, 2020March 9, 2020Leave a comment

About 8 weeks into this two-kid life, I had a realization: I am really, really unhealthy spiritually, emotionally, and physically. My kids are thriving, I’m transitioning back into work, meals are getting cooked and the house is (mostly) clean, but I am not taking care of myself.

The breaking point came one Sunday morning. Eliza was napping in her crib and Kevin was out of the house. I sat down on the floor near the coffee table to color with Lydia. Only a few minutes in, I started feeling intense anxiety, like I was wasting time. Thoughts were swirling through my mind. Eliza is asleep and Lydia is distracted, what can I get done? What can I multi-task while playing with Lydia?

It’s impossible to get anything done with two kids under two awake, so when I have at least one asleep, I try to be doing something – cooking, cleaning, getting myself ready for the day, responding to a text – rushing to the next task to complete before the free moment passes.

But this morning I wanted it to be different. It was a Sunday morning. I wanted to sit and color with my daughter. I wanted to simply enjoy her company. To enjoy the calm, the silence.

And I couldn’t sit still.

As I tried to fight the anxiety and be present with Lydia, conviction set in. I knew in my heart that it wasn’t just this moment. Since coming home from the hospital and starting our life with two kids, I’d had an inability to sit and be still, to spend quiet time with the Lord, or even prioritize taking care of myself. I broke down as I realized that not only was I hurting myself, but it was now affecting my ability to be present with my own daughter.

It was time to acknowledge my sin and ask for help.

F I V E . M I N U T E S .

Breaking the habit of hurry, which isn’t easy for any momma (but especially those of us that are enneagram 3’s) takes discipline, dedication, and accountability. A wise friend spoke the words of God into my life when she suggested that I start small: Five minutes of silence a day.

Literally, five minutes. The first chance that I get.

There have been a rare few days where I’ve been able to start my day with five minutes. Usually it doesn’t come until 2pm when both my girls are taking naps. There’s been some days when it comes at 10pm. But there have been few days I’ve missed. I set a timer on my phone for 5 minutes and 5 seconds (a few seconds for adjustment) and my phone on “do not disturb.” The only thing I’m allowed to “do” during that time is drink a cup of coffee or other beverage that fits the time of day.

And I must sit
still
in
silence.

I can’t also eat, also drive, also shower, also clean.
I must
simply
sit
still
and
listen.

And as my husband reminds me
let God listen to me.

The first time felt anxious and uncomfortable, but it only took a few days for it to become the highlight of my day. I sit in silence and listen for God. When the timer goes off, I sometimes journal a few thoughts or a few words I hear from God.

Little did I know that five minutes a day would be so transformative.

“It’s like, it’s just five minutes,” I said to Kevin about a week later. “Why is it making such a difference in my day?”

He pointed out simply, “It’s not just about the five minutes. You’re taking control of the day and stopping to sit with the Lord, instead of letting the day control you.”

And that’s the freedom I’ve felt. In the midst of spending 14-16 hours a day, usually with an hour at night, taking care of other people, I am stopping to at the least spend five minutes taking care of myself, my soul. Drawing near to the Lord in the midst of the hurry. And that is a victory.

L I F E . W I T H . T W O.

I am here now this week, 12-weeks postpartum with my second daughter. Praise God, there has been so much that the Lord has done in the past four weeks to bring me into a healthier place – way more than I could possibly write! The Lord has been so kind to bring in just the right Scripture or podcast or song or text when I needed clarity, to provide a husband that wants to fight for me to find health in this season, and some amazing women who speak truth into my life.

So how is life with two kids under two?

I’ll be real. Many days my patience runs thin. I look forward to work because it’s actually a break. I’ve got a strong-willed toddler that loves to test the limits and a 12-week-old that only naps for 30 minutes at a time. I’ve fallen asleep on the couch and had to be carried into bed by my husband honestly more times than I can count.

Yet at the same time, life feels natural and normal, just with an extra layer of joy and love that I feel toward my second daughter Eliza and seeing her grow and discover the world. I am still fighting the same temptations I had before marriage, before motherhood, and before being a momma of two: the temptation to fill my days and my life with business, distractions, and excuses that keep me from intimacy with the Lord.

In every season, God must re-teach me the same lessons:

He alone is the One who has not only called me to this life but equipped me.
He alone is the source of my peace and joy.
He alone is worthy of my heart’s worship.
He alone is worthy of my all.

Thank God for a five-minute reminder each day of the Truth that will last for eternity.

it is well.

September 3, 2019September 4, 2019Leave a comment

Motherhood is sanctifying.

In the midnight hour on July 31, I had the privilege of being in the delivery room with one of my best friends, Keely. Over the last three years, I’ve walked with her through three miscarriages. Countless prayers had gotten us to that moment.

Lord, please, let her hold her baby.

Finally
her water broke
her labor began
and
there we were
at last
this momma would hold her baby.

While up until that moment in time she had yet to meet one of her babies, Keely had already experienced sanctification through motherhood. Your lack of control hits you within moments after learning about a pregnancy, and for many of us, it brings us to a place of utter dependence on the Lord. Through Keely’s pregnancy loss, God had changed her. In a time when she easily could have run away from God, she ran to Him. She chose faith and trust. Her journey brought us to this sweet moment during her labor that I will never forget.

I had stepped in at Keely’s side to give her husband Kyle a break as they prepared for a long night ahead of labor. While we laughed and danced in the waiting at first, contractions had started picking up. The mood in the room had changed but we were still at the point in labor where we could talk for the few minutes between contractions. I pulled up her premade labor playlist and the first worship song came on: It is well.

Keely shared how this song had carried her through her miscarriages. We took a moment, even in the midst of her labor and excitement, to grieve the loss of the three babies that she would never hold in this lifetime. As painful as labor is, she grieved that she wasn’t able to experience the pain of childbearing with her first three. We imagined what it would be like to hold her babies in heaven. We imagined how proud they were of their momma in this moment, having chosen to place her faith in the Lord and trust Him in the unknown.

Through tears, we listened to the words of the song as her next contraction came on. “Even through it all,” Keely whispered. “It is well.”

P E A C E . I N . P R O C E S S .

Motherhood is sanctifying.

Here’s what I mean. Sanctification is this process that the Bible refers to as the time between salvation (justification) and the moment when we are restored to new life in Christ for eternity (glorification). Sanctification is the in-between, it’s the process of being made holy. While we are a new creation in Christ at salvation because of the indwelling of the Holy Spirit (2 Corinthians 5:17), the Lord still has a lot of work to do on our sinful hearts and flesh. And this doesn’t happen overnight. For most of us it’s a painful, long process of being made holy.

The hope of sanctification is that the longer we walk with Christ, the more we should look like Him. I have learned that God is much more concerned with our holiness than our happiness. Along the way we think we want happiness but really, our deepest desire is peace. Sanctification is the smoothing off of our rough edges and letting the desires of our heart become God’s will for our lives. It’s the pruning of dead branches, so that we can bear more fruit, and fruit that will last. It’s finding peace in our circumstances of this life, knowing that our hope rests in a Good Father who will come and redeem all the brokenness, guilt, and shame we feel and restore all of creation to perfection. Sanctification is the painful process of letting go—and letting God.

I wish I could say that things have been all rainbows and butterflies since the moment when Keely finally held her daughter, Emmaline Grace. But the next trial we will face in this life is always right around the corner. In baby Emmaline’s first month of life, Keely’s had to deal with the challenges of having a newborn and learning to nurse in the midst of Emmaline having a benign tumor on her gum and undergoing surgery at 4 weeks old. God is not done with Keely’s story yet, and neither is He done with ours.

I T . I S . W E L L .

Motherhood is sanctifying.

A few weeks ago, I had my own sanctifying motherhood moment. Caught between the demands of work, ministry, and our busy lives, I realized that I was not giving my daughter Lydia the attention that she deserves. In the middle of transitioning her from a morning nap ready to rush her to my parent’s house so I could get more work done, the voice of mom-guilt came in my head, accusing me of being a bad mom.

I stopped. I looked at Lydia and asked her, “Do you think I’m a bad mom?” Knowing that Lydia couldn’t answer that question, I broke down into tears. My 15-month-old daughter ran into my arms and hugged me. I picked her up and my little girl didn’t stop hugging me back for several minutes as we walked up and down the hallway. She continued hugging me until my tears finally quieted. She didn’t need to have words in that moment, she communicated everything that I needed. The Lord reminded me through my daughter that I was doing my best, and that Lydia loved me not based on “how I did as a mom that day.” She loved me because I am her momma. The same is true with God. He doesn’t love me based on “how I did as a Christian that day.” He loves me because I am His daughter.

The Lord used Lydia to encourage me to find peace in the process.

This life that my toddler and I live together isn’t going to be easy. I hear from other mommas that it only gets harder. I’m going to be an imperfect mom, and Lydia is an imperfect child. We are going to hurt each other. We are going to let each other down. We are going to have moments where we say, “I’m sorry” and ask each other for forgiveness. Yet through every trial, every mistake, every burst of anger, every moment we can’t control, and even the most joyful moments that we can’t slow down—through it all—we are being sanctified.

When I say that motherhood is sanctifying, what I mean is that motherhood brings out all the ways we fall short on our own efforts. Motherhood brings out our flaws and imperfections whether physical, emotional, or spiritual. Yet God uses motherhood to refine us, to make us more dependent on Christ, and to therefore become more like Him as we choose to place our trust in Him.

It is sanctification that brings us to a place where we can say, no matter my circumstances, I have peace. God is good. He will redeem.

Through it all — it is well.

“Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me.” (Psalm 139:7-10)

work ahead.

June 4, 2019June 4, 20191 Comment

“You’re only as loved as your last success.”

My husband Kevin read those words aloud and they brought instant emotion and conviction. He was reading the description of an Enneagram Style-3 from the book The Road Back to You, a required reading for our upcoming Young Life staff conference.

There is no denying the truth: I am prone to live by this lie every single day.

The trouble is that this lie is a never-ending cycle. It doesn’t matter if one day I’m a professional athlete, or getting married, or having a baby, or starting a new job. Days or sometimes hours after achieving the goal, the same lie creeps in: that was yesterday’s success… but what are you doing now? Who do people see you as today? Are your accomplishments today worth others loving you?

As a 3, my heart question is Who am I to this group? I am constantly aware of my public image, and when my accomplishments don’t match the public image that I seek to have, I feel deep shame. In believing this lie, I am fooled into thinking that my public image is all that I am. I can let my drive to succeed overpower everything else in my life. As a 3-wing-2, I am especially sensitive to whether others notice or approve of my successes or accomplishments.

Fortunately, this isn’t the end of the road for me. What I enjoy about the Enneagram test is it exposes your internal motivations but also says this: don’t stay there. Through self-awareness, confession, repentance, prayer, and accountability, I have the opportunity to choose God’s truth and seek healthy change.

T R U T H .

I am more than my success. I am more than the image others see. I am a child of God, loved not for what I do but for who I am (1 John 3:1).

Failure simply reminds me that I have a God who never fails. It reminds me of my utter dependence not on my own power, but on the transforming power of God (1 Corinthians 1:9, Romans 12:2).

I don’t need approval from other people, only from the Lord. Because of Jesus’ death on the Cross, God’s wrath was already poured out for my sin. There is no condemnation. The debt has been paid. Because of Jesus’ accomplishment on the Cross, God approves of me. His love for me is not contingent on my worldly or holy accomplishments (Galatians 1:10, Romans 8:1).

I don’t have to cut corners for the sake of getting things done. I can seek the Lord and seek patience, trusting that His timing is perfect. I can be present with my family and friends and trust that the work will get done (2 Peter 3:8-9).

T I M I N G .

The timing of this staff conference and the processing that followed came in the midst of a season of accomplishments: finishing a master’s degree and moving forward with a dream job opportunity doing marketing and communications for Young Life College.

As many of you know, I left a career in college athletics days before my daughter Lydia was born because my heart was in ministry. Without having a set job, I knew that God was calling me to wait and focus on learning to be a mom and finishing my master’s before asking the question: What’s next? I wondered what life would be like as a stay-at-home mom. Will I enjoy it? Will I go crazy?

About three weeks postpartum, I found myself creating work. In the midst of a financial deficit for our local Young Life area, I started putting together a team of people to support Kevin and our other local staff and came alongside my husband in support raising. Four weeks postpartum, I was ready to start back up my master’s program after a brief leave of absence. I looked forward to school work and any Young Life project I could get my hands on. I was quickly affirmed: I genuinely enjoy work.

All of this said, I had plans to finish my master’s degree around the same time as Lydia’s first birthday. The vision of walking down the University of Kansas campanile hill on graduation day with my one-year-old daughter cheering me on became my motivation. I surrendered to the Lord: I won’t try to discern what’s next for work. I will wait, pursue patience, and focus on family and ministry. When grad school is done, I will discern God’s will for what’s next.

T O M O R R O W .

Ironically, this Young Life conference for staff and their spouses came the same week as my finals. I almost didn’t go, but I’m so glad that I did. I had the opportunity to get away for a few days and seek the Lord on what was next.

Through learning about myself over this last year, balancing part-time work and grad school, I found that this was actually really enjoyable and healthy for me as a “Style-3.” If you know the Enneagram, this statement comes at no surprise to you as a 3. On the positive side, I desire productivity and efficiency, bringing projects to completion, and accomplishing goals. I am driven, motivated, energetic, and enjoy being busy. I am a multi-tasker who is able to think about and balance several things at once.

Pursuing advancement and more hours in my ministry career doesn’t just have to happen because my family could use the finances, but because I actually, really and truly, enjoy work.

I prayed to God for an opportunity in ministry that would provide finances yet also have the flexibility needed as a pastor’s wife and a mom to littles.

I prayed that my heart would be genuine in wanting this not out of my default, self-promoting motivations but because it’s God’s will.

I prayed that my natural motivation to accomplish goals would be used not just for my own benefit, but to serve the Kingdom of God. I want to compete for His glory, not my own.

God has and is continuing to answer those prayers in the work ahead.

With my Master’s in Business Administration out of the way, it feels so good to move forward in freedom with being a working mom, even with Baby #2 on the way. I love my job doing communications, marketing, and event planning for Young Life College and I can’t wait to see where the Lord takes my career in the future!

.

One of the best ways that I can love my daughter is by modeling for her a woman who chases the dreams that God places in her heart.

How can I possibly teach her to chase her dreams if I’m not chasing my own?

Thank you, Lord
for
dreams
and
dreams
come true.

finished.

May 28, 2019May 28, 20191 Comment

After breastfeeding for about a month after finding out I was pregnant with our second baby, first trimester nausea was in full-swing. In the week before Lydia’s first birthday, not only was I ready to be done, but I could tell Lydia was ready too. So on May 6, I was prepared to nurse Lydia for the last time. The next day I was leaving town for a Young Life Staff Conference for three days, so the timing was perfect to wean her completely off our last remaining feeding, the nighttime feeding.

Our family was out late that evening with our church City Group. When we got home, I started Lydia’s normal bedtime routine, mentally and emotionally preparing for my last time breastfeeding Lydia. Despite feeling ready to be done, this was still a significant and emotional moment. Whether Lydia was teething, tired, coming off a cold, or a combination, she refused to nurse and on the contrary, wouldn’t stop screaming. My husband suggested that we just put her straight into her crib for bed, and I glared back and him and sternly responded “no.” And I tried again. And again. And again. Lydia’s screaming only got louder.

As my daughter cried in my arms
unwilling to nurse
I gave up
what was supposed to be my last time nursing her
never happened
it was gone
there would be no last time.
I held her
and cried just as loud
I let go
this season,
it is finished.

L O O K I N G . B A C K .

We read a bedtime story through tears and my daughter went straight to sleep immediately after laying her in her crib. As I exited the nursery, my husband was concerned about my strong emotions yet confused. I explained to him the thoughts racing through my mind:

Memories.
The very first time Lydi nursed, what seemed like minutes after she was born.
The emotional roller coaster of trying to get her to latch after my milk came in, feeling helpless for days.
The six months of her not eating any solid foods, only nursing for nutrition and survival.
The late, dark nights and early, dark mornings.
The countless hours and hours of feeding her.
The special bond that only mama had with her.
Done.
Gone.
Finished.

But more than just this simple act of nursing her, it was more.
Weaning represented the physical symbol of the present reality.
The first year of my first baby’s life is over, and I will never get it back.

Being pregnant through all this surely wasn’t helping the hormones and the emotions. But as I explained to Kevin the bigger picture and processing her first year being done, he understood. In fact, he joined in the reminiscing and sat and cried with me. We talked memories of her first year, from the moment we met her to taking her home from the hospital, to all her firsts. We celebrated the walking, talking, full-of-joy toddler that she is now. We grieved the time that we’ll never get back but laughed at the memories that we’ll hold forever. We continue to stand utterly in awe of how it’s possible to love a child so incredibly deeply.

I wish time could rewind, stand still, and move forward all at the same time. And yet, it moves forward. And in healthy emotional and spiritual processing, so will I.

T H R E E . D A Y S .

After three days away, I came home ready to embrace our new routine and celebrate my little girl’s first birthday. As I write this, I notice the way that God’s presence was with me throughout the week. If it wasn’t for the series of events that night, I may not have taken the time to feel, grieve, and process the emotions that came along with the change. God used selfishly unfavorable events to bring about greater good. Though it was hard to see in the moment, after three days away, I came home excited to continue to love Lydia and meet her needs in the countless other ways that only mamas can do.

The phrase, “It is finished,” reminds me of another scene in John 19. On Calvary’s Hill, the Son of God, who lived a perfect, sinless life, experienced the undeserving weight of sin and death on the Cross. After three days, Jesus rose from the dead. God used selfishly unfavorable events to bring about greater good. Though it was hard to see in the moment, after three days away, He resurrected to give us hope, joy, adoption, peace, and a promise of eternal life for those who trust in Him.

Really, “It is finished” was only the beginning.

.

In the case of my very normal, mundane life, the same hymn rings true.
As we celebrated her first birthday with family and friends
It marked the end of year zero
And the beginning of year one.

Lydia Evelyn, we are excited to continue to watch you grow and see who you become.
Really, sweet girl, it’s only the beginning.

just wait.

January 20, 2019January 21, 20192 Comments

I can’t tell you how many times in my motherhood journey I’ve heard the phrase “just wait.”

In pregnancy… just wait until you are further along! Just wait until childbirth. Just wait until the arrival. And then your life will change.

And as my husband and I would celebrate Lydia’s milestones as she got closer to mobility, such as rolling over or pulling her knees up, again we’d hear from so many parents who have gone before us, just wait until she’s mobile. And then your life will change.

To be completely honest, I’ve gotten so tired of hearing the phrase just wait from both friends and strangers, that I’m now trying to take that phrase out of my vocabulary as I talk with other friends who are pregnant or new mommas.

Is there not always something next? Having two kids together? The terrible toddler years? The teenager years? Just wait.

I truly doubt
the phrase just wait
will ever end
and
I’ll get to the day
where I wonder what
I’ve been waiting for.

L E N S . M A T T E R S .

Social media gets a lot of criticism. People claim that it’s a pit for comparison where people only share the “highlights” of their life. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to pretend like I haven’t scrolled through Instagram stuck in that very same comparison pit. But one thing I’ve wondered: is putting your highlights on social media all that bad? What I’m getting at here is, in an effort to share the joys of my life in a creative expression on social media, I am making a conscious effort to focus on the positives in my life. Yes, it may have been a stressful day, but my baby’s smile made me laugh, and that’s what I would like to choose to celebrate and choose to focus on.

Lens matters. What lens do we view our life? Do we focus on the positives, or the negatives?

It seems that when it comes to having a mobile baby, most people focus on the negatives.

It’s impossible to get anything done.
You’ll have no time to yourself.
You can’t take your eye off her.

What about all the positives?

My daughter is exploring the world!
She’s laughing and learning!
She’s growing and getting stronger!
It’s fun!

My charge is this: As we go through life transitions, and listen to other people’s reactions to them, let’s put their perspectives into perspective.

See, it’s not just having a mobile baby. Countless told me that marriage would be hard. After all, its famous nickname is the ball and chain! Well, I’m almost six years in and I’m still trying to figure out when I’m going to discover the “hard” that everyone talked about.

Don’t get me wrong, marriage can be messy, and our relationship takes work. Just like in parenthood, there are times when Lydia’s mobility has been inconvenient. I have to be more flexible in my days and willing to ask others for help to make sure the work gets done. But the joy of marriage and the joy of motherhood far outweighs any of the bad. In fact, I can’t even compare the two.

“Rejoice in the Lord always… do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things… and the God of peace will be with you.” (Philippians 4:4-9)

The joy, hope, and peace that comes from a life in Christ Jesus, because of His life, death, and resurrection, transcends all understanding. That’s what I choose to focus on.

F I L T E R . O U T .

As Philippians 4:8 tells us, let us think about the things excellent and praiseworthy. Just as we change the filter on our photos to bring in better lighting, let us filter out the negative thoughts and voices that fill our mind, and choose to focus on the positives.

The more we focus on the positives,
the more,
over time,
we will experience
the peace
of God
and
more importantly
the God
of peace.

I’m not saying to be ingenuine or display an unrealistic life. We must own every emotion that we feel, positive or negative, and work through and process those. But I am saying that it’s OK to celebrate the highlights and to place your focus on the positives. You may just find yourself loving your life more, finding peace, and experiencing the very One who enables it all.

Ask yourself, what lens do I view this transition or circumstance in my life? A life-altering challenge for the worse, or an exciting adventure?

Don’t just wait for the circumstances to change, better or worse. Embrace the today you are living, and understand that the present is a gift, even in the mess.

.

As soon as Lydia learned to crawl, she started pulling up. Her upward mobility reminds me to see mobility, as well as many other changes in life, with the positive lens.

“For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” (2 Corinthians 4:17)