Wanna get into the Christmas Spirit?…Here’s how

Confession. I don’t recall the last time that I was in the Christmas Spirit. Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely love Christmas. But that warm anticipatory feeling that I’d get as a child, ceased sometime before high school. After last year, I realized that I didn’t want my Christmas of 2018 to be the same as it had been in previous years.

I didn’t want to wake up on Christmas morning only concerned about which foods to eat, which outfit to wear, and whether or not I purchased all the right presents. I wanted this year to be different.

So at the start of this past October, I started getting ready. By October 1st, I’d already planned the weekend that my family and I would go apple picking at an orchard. This was in effort to get into the “Fall” spirit.

But each weekend brought on a different weather fatality that unfortunately altered our plans.

Then Thanksgiving came. I planned on baking some pretty awesome vegan treats. Yeah, for whatever reason that didn’t happen either.

And Christmas decorations? I didn’t see it as a priority this year, budget wise; nor did I feel like begging Evan, my husband, to help me hang some lights (I choose my battles wisely.)

So as December approached, I found myself nowhere near having the “Christmas Spirit,” despite my elaborate plans at the start of October. But then, unexpectedly, and quite randomly in my opinion, the Lord challenged me to cut out all entertainment for 21 days. Yeah. Movies, shows (This is Us!), my random YouTube videos, endless Facebook videos that Y'all like share, and my love to watch different interviews (yas...Michelle Obama’s recent book tour interviews).

Well, I began doing this on Nov. 24th, and after 10 or so days...I still wasn’t in the Christmas Spirit.

So when thinking about this one afternoon, the Lord showed me that I was attempting, and failing miserably, at conjuring up this Christmas Spirit, because I equated the Christmas Spirit to my ability to resuscitate nostalgia. Nostalgia that was filled with sweet times as a child, giggly emotions, and anticipatory angst that was both fun and pure. Yet, a nostalgia which honestly had nothing to do with Him (Christ).

How often do we do this? How often do we find the necessity to reenact (i.e. traditions, experiences, etc.) in order to relive an emotion…and call that having the Christmas Spirit? 

Entertainment is usually where I run towards to conjure up this nostalgia. By doing this, I place my faith in a movie or a song to quench a thirst that was once readily filled by waking up on Christmas day and seeing a considerable amount of presents under a tree.

But like I said, somewhere between adolescence and adulthood, that thirst stopped being quenched, those warm feelings leading up to Christmas disappeared, and the excitement of opening presents just didn’t do it for me like it used to. And every attempt to bring these feelings back stopped working.. Hence, why I’d find myself saying in my head, year after year, “I’m just not in the Christmas Spirit.”

But here’s what I’ve learned this year.

I need to redefine what it means to be in the Christmas Spirit.

To be in the Christmas Spirit is not playing Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas” on repeat (such a good song right?!), nor watching Home Alone, It’s a Wonderful Life and a host of Hallmark Movies. Trust me. I’ve tried them all..

My favorite Christmas move.

To be in the Christmas Spirit is to practice being more aware of the Holy Spirit.

So often we hear that Christmas isn’t about presents but His Presence.

But how much of His Presence are we actively seeking Dec. 1st- 24th?

Maybe, exchanging presents isn’t the culprit to Christmas.

Perhaps it’s the lack of being aware of His Presence leading up to Christmas that can make giving presents stressful, preparing food a burden, and going through a rehearsed schedule, year to year, as if going through the motions like any other holiday.

So as we wait for Dec. 25th, the celebration of Jesus’ birthday, the best gift to Earth, let us not unconsciously forsake the gift we have right now…which is His Spirit. His Presence is readily available and very much wanting to interact with you.

“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. ”

— Jeremiah 29:13

Now that I’ve cut out entertainment (for the time being), I’ve been amazed by how clearly I’ve been hearing and experiencing the Holy Spirit’s power in my personal life and especially in my prayer life. (As a result, the Holy Spirit has also been making me more acutely aware of  my hidden sins--another blog post for another time.)

So I can honestly say now, “I’m in the Christmas Spirit y’all!!”

Maybe next year, I’ll bake and decorate some cookies with Evan Jr., our son. 

Maybe I’ll pop some homemade popcorn and stream my favorite Christmas movie to watch with Evan Sr.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll go to a Christmas lighting ceremony with them both.

But this will all be done in addition to, and not in replacement of, trying to get into the Christmas Spirit. I already have His Holy Spirit, which is the ultimate essence of getting into the “Christmas Spirit.”

PonderedThought:

What are some things you could do to be more aware of the Presence of the Holy Spirit right now? Is it baking cookies? Watching that movie? Or does He want you to be more aware and appreciative of the Holy Spirit?

For the next couple of days, I challenge you to unplug from any “go to” thing that is crowding you from being more aware of the Holy Spirit. Consider this not a fast. But more so, a passionate pursuit of your Comforter, Guide, Intercessor, and Lover.

Your “go to” could be television, Hulu, Netflix, food, social media, or even work. Ask the Lord, and He will graciously guide you.

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Quarantining?: 10 Very Effective Ways to Draw Closer to God

Have you ever found yourself singing a worship song with lyrics like, “I give myself away” or “All I want is You” or “I love You with all of my heart,” and felt a tinge of conviction? Have you at times felt like, those lyrics weren’t true for you?

If not, I may be the only one who feels like this sometimes.

Don’t get me wrong. I want to sing these words and mean what I’m singing. But many times I feel like I’m lying to God when I sing songs of complete surrender or desire. So instead, I sing in my heart, “I (want to) give myself away. (I want to be in a place where) All I want is you. I (really do want to) love you with all of my heart..."

Why do I end up adding my own internal parentheses? Most times, I find myself doing this whenever I'm in a season of habitual disobedience and unconfessed sin. These seasons usually occur when I’m unintentionally or sometimes even deliberately fighting against the path that God is telling me to pursue—and in effect, fighting with God, growing hardened in heart, and slowly running away from any awareness of His Presence. (To clarify, if you are a believer, God’s presence never leaves you, because you are sealed with the Holy Spirit. But there’s a difference between having the Spirit and actively obeying and giving Lordship to the Spirit. When we disobey Him, we literally grieve His presence inside of us.)

And so I sing...knowing that my actions speak much more loudly than my words.

“If you love me, you will keep my commandments.”

— John 14:15

During these seasons of disobedience, I usually find myself listening to a sermon and thinking, “Yeah, I need to go ahead and give up ___, and I know I need to go ahead and start __.”

Almost four years ago, Evan (my husband) shared with me that he could see me blogging in the future. At the time, I scoffed at the idea and inwardly rolled my eyes. I figured that his statement was a result of him not listening to all that I had been sharing with him regarding the Lord's purposes for my life (which at the time, DID NOT INCLUDE BLOGGING). But then he later repeated his recommendation again. And then again. And finally, when Evan and I were walking into our home late one evening,  Evan started venturing into another spiel about seeing me blogging. It was at that moment that I heard the Lord tell me to “LISTEN.”

After that evening, Evan didn’t have to remind me anymore about blogging. The Holy Spirit kept telling me. I fought the Lord, less out of sheer rebellion and more out of pure laziness, for some time. But delayed obedience = disobedience. Although I started drafting potential posts for almost a year, I didn’t have any concrete plans on actually starting a blog and publishing the posts. So every sermon, every song, every near death-like-experience (turbulence on a plane) would inadvertently remind me that I hadn’t entirely given myself over to God.

My point is this.

You don’t need to know 10 ways to get closer to God. 

More than likely, you already know how. The answer is simple. Be obedient. Openly confess sins. Prioritize God by studying His Word and talking to Him, listening to Him, and being aware of His presence daily.

Sure, you may have heard this all before. In fact, this blog post may have caught your eye because perhaps you wanted to find a different and easier way to draw near to God.

I can so relate to that feeling. How? Because a few weeks ago, I was tempted to google search, “10 ways to get closer to God.” Actually, this was more than a temptation, because I was in the process of looking it up. But while picking up my phone, I sighed, knowing that I already knew how to draw closer to God.

Honestly, I was just hoping to read somewhere that I could get closer to Him by, for example, spinning in circles 7 times or speaking in tongues for 7 minutes. I wanted to read words empathizing with my busy schedule and encouraging me to catch a Word whenever I could. I wanted to read that God was in my heart and that was all that mattered. I wanted to read that I was human and couldn’t possibly obey God all the time, so it was okay to settle for some sin in my life/not lay down everything to Him.

But that’s not what I’m going to tell you.

Let me tell you a quick story.

A few months ago, I sat, tired of trying to rock baby boy to sleep. No amount of breastmilk, walking, swaying, or singing was working. I leaned back in the rocking chair, closed my eyes, and just wished for the vision of what I had thought motherhood would look like to come true.

I wanted Evan Jr. to lay on my chest, nestled sweetly between my chin and my womb. I wanted to hold him for once without him resisting me with clenched fists and a squirming body, itching to get away. This was mostly my reality for the first 5-7 weeks of Evan Jr.’s life due to him having a very gassy digestive system.

Nonetheless, I took his discomfort personally every time he pressed his little hands aggressively against my chest in pain. Over time, I began to think that he didn't want me.  For once, I just wanted him to feel protected in my arms and to act as though he liked Mommy and no one else (this would come just a couple of weeks later). I wanted him to want me (I cannot stress that enough). And the moment that this thought resonated, the unbelievable happened.

As though an angel just tapped baby boy, Evan Jr. suddenly rested his head right below my chin. Up until this point, he had never done this. He would often fall asleep while breastfeeding, or after numerous bounces when walking back and forth, or after trying 100 different positions whenever I sat down.

But this...this effortless position felt right. This was the vision that I had imagined of motherhood.

He laid his head on my chest so peacefully. And as soon as I felt his deep breaths against my chest,  I felt tears welling up in my eyes. The moment that I had dreamt of since he was born happened. I peered down and stroked his hair. For the first time up until that point, he had resigned to sleep without fighting me with every last ounce of energy of his body. I leaned back and smiled... before being interrupted by another thought—a thought that I knew was from above.

“This is what I long for, with you.”

He spoke it so clearly. I wasn’t even praying.

Tears, for another reason, began drawing up. Simultaneously, I inwardly smiled and said, “Come on Lord. Can’t I just enjoy this one moment without you laying that on me?” I had been fighting the Lord. Yes, I was a new mom with a newborn at the time, but I had kept fighting the Lord.

I felt Him beckoning me to invite Him into my thoughts when changing Evan Jr.’s diapers. I felt Him inviting me to open up to Him whenever I felt overwhelmed. I felt Him whispering to me to worship Him when I felt down. To confess when I had engaged in wrongful thinking. To read His Word when I had some time alone.  But instead, I wanted to numb myself with HGTV and Facebook.

It’s so simple, yet the most challenging thing that you’ll probably ever do. And so I’ll repeat it again.

You don’t need 10 ways to get closer to God.

Be obedient (Stop doing what you know you need to stop doing, and begin what you know you should be doing.). Openly confess sin (Be honest. Don’t sugar coat it.).  And prioritize God by studying His Word (No other way around it. No commentary, spiritual book, or sermon will suffice) and be aware of His Presence daily (Talk to and LISTEN to Him, even now!).

It’s so simple, yet the most challenging thing that you’ll probably ever do…because it’s a matter of priority.

So start now :) .

If only you knew how much He yearns for you to stop fighting but to simply come, rest in His Presence, and surrender.

He’s waiting.

He’s always waiting.

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I think this song encapsulates this blog so beautifully.

5 Practical Habits to Consider Adopting as a Newlywed

My grandmother called me during my first year of marriage and frankly told me,

“The first 5 years of your marriage will build the foundation for how you and your husband operate for the rest of your marriage. ”

— My Very Wise Grandmother

At first, I thought “5 years is a long time.” But with time, I realized that she was so right. Evan and I get a lot of things wrong. Like a lot. I’m still learning how to...well that’s another blog post. However, here are 5 practical things that we do consistently that work for us. They may not work for you and your spouse, and these could very well change for us as the years go on. But for right now, these 5 habits are our current game changers.

1. Say 1 prayer in the AM together.  

This is not anything fancy nor time-consuming. Evan and I just make sure to always say 1 prayer together in the morning. When I was working at a school, Evan would call me while I was in transit to work and we would pray. Currently, we pray together right when we first wake up. Our prayer typically begins in gratitude to God for the day, and then we take turns praying for one another for 1 shared prayer request. By doing this, we help each other recognize when the Lord has answered a prayer request in one of each other’s lives; we feel connected spiritually by knowing that we aren’t alone in praying for particular things; and we also get a chance to confess anything that we need to confess to one another before praying. Literally, this takes 3-5 minutes. Simply put, this is just a good habit to incorporate in the fabric of your marriage. Evan and I choose to pray in the morning because we tend to get the day started around the same time, whereas we go to bed at entirely different times.

2. Practice adopting a lifestyle to 1 income

So on that day that my grandmother called, she also suggested that we live off 1 income and ultimately save the other. She and my grandfather lived by this principle, and I’m so happy she recommended it to me. If you are newly married, before choosing a lifestyle that forces you two to live off of 2 incomes, practice living off of 1 income and saving the other. In our case, this worked out in my transition to working in the home full-time after our baby boy was born. It also allowed us to save money quickly.

3. Never attack identity in an argument

So when Evan and I argue, there’s one card we’re not allowed ever to pull out, and that comes to attacking identity. We can say “at this moment you are acting ____,” but we don’t say, “You are crazy, irrational, a hypocrite, etc.” Do you see the subtle difference? The former implies that a behavior is temporary, albeit uncharacteristic. The latter conveys that in the fabric of your spouse’s DNA, he/she is something that can never be changed. You may think that this subtle difference is insignificant, but it really helps arguments to not escalate unnecessarily.

Shortly after our baby boy was born, Evan and I had the worse argument of our entire marriage at that point, and it was due to breaking this rule. When things escalated, we stopped and said, “We are doing what we said we would never do.” At that moment we prayed and checked ourselves and continued the conversation when we were more level-headed.

4. “Always” and “Never” are banned words when referring to an action that is negative about the other

This is something Evan and I both have to check each other on when we’re in an argument because it is so easy to present a false reality when stating “You always … You never….You are always…. etc.” The fact of the matter is that when you state something, you begin to believe it. And the truth is…more than likely your spouse doesn’t ALWAYS/NEVER do a particular thing.

5. Schedule a Weekly Business Meeting

We received this tip from an older couple at a marriage conference. Because communication plays such a huge role in the health of a marriage, Evan and I MUST SIT DOWN AND HAVE A WEEKLY MEETING about the week. We see the importance of this even more as life becomes busier as we get older. Life is unpredictable, so we just aim for our meeting to occur at some point every Sunday. Our meeting may spread out intermittently across 2-3 hours because baby woke up or we got hungry or so-and-so called. So don’t imagine us sitting at a table wholly organized and focused. We do what we can do, and still, reap benefits in trying. In this meeting, we go through 6 basic questions.

1. This isn’t a question but we begin by reading a chapter from Proverbs (usually corresponding to the date ex. if Sept 1, then we will read Proverbs 1.)

2. What is the status of our marriage from this past week?

   This gives us a chance to talk about what we could further work on, and it gives us a chance to thank the Lord for progress! We implemented this question after I asked Evan one day, “How can I bring up something that I’d like for you to consider changing without approaching in you in a way that is coming across as nagging?” And he suggested that instead of coming to him every day with something new (which I was doing smh), I could wait until our Sunday meeting to gracefully discuss with him anything that was troubling me etc without pulling out a laundry list (cause ladies, you know we got that list). And vice versa.

3. What is the plan for the week?

   Examples: What days are we working out? What do we want for groceries? Any events occurring during the week, in the evening, that we both need to be on 1 accord about? What are our plans for the upcoming weekend? In our case, what days will you be out of town?

4. What persons do we need to be praying for this week/ need to make sure we catch up with?

5. How did we spend our time this past week? Were we good stewards in getting certain items accomplished or did we waste certain evenings away?

6. Have we accomplished a goal from 1 vision that the Lord has given us?

PonderedThought:

• What are some good habits that you and your spouse implement in order to maintain a healthy relationship? Please post in the comments below! I really wanna know.

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I say "sorry" to our newborn son 100 times a day

One thing that I was never warned about when becoming a new mom was that I would be saying “I’m sorry” to my newborn son multiple times throughout the day. I probably say “I’m sorry” about 100 times a day. No, I’m serious.  

Case in point:

Good Morning Evan Jr. Let’s take a bath. Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that your bath water was too cold. And I’m sorry for accidentally grazing you with my nail when picking you up out of your bath. And while we're on the topic, I'm sorry for not cutting your nails perfectly so that you wouldn't cut yourself when crying.

I’m sorry for not getting to you fast enough after your nap (I was just using the restroom while brushing my teeth and checking my email-no biggie). I’m sorry that you were crying due to being hungry and not because you wanted to be held.  I’m sorry that I didn’t moisturize your back (and now I see dry patches). I’m sorry I bumped your head. I’m sorry that you have to walk around with a poop stain on your back because the restaurant had no proper changing station for me to change your clothes (#reallife). I’m sorry I didn’t see that small eyelash in your eye that’s been irritating you ALL day. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’M SORRY!

I have a feeling those sorry’s are only going to multiply as the years go on.

As I reflect on my many mistakes as a new mom...I learn how often his cries are justified due to me simply being imperfect. He needs something and it’s my job to figure it out. However, due to my imperfections, often times I mess up in doing so.

And yet…

                       God never messes up.

Now that I’m a parent, knowing that God is a perfect Father is honestly mind-boggling. Sometimes I make the mistake of seeing the fallenness of this world and unconsciously attribute its fallenness to a feature of my God. That is simply not the case. He is a perfect Father, even in a fallen world. By fallen I mean the result of a once perfect Earth now being filled with sin, relational strife, disease, spiritual warfare, natural disaster, etc. Oh, how I can't wait to inhabit the new Earth (Revelation 21). Even in the midst of all the aforementioned, God is perfect. And His ways are perfect.  There is not one thing that He does for His child that is imperfect. Not one.

Can you just sit in that? If you are a believer, You have a Perfect Father.

He doesn’t need his coffee in the morning to effectively hear your prayers. He doesn’t need to scratch His head and wonder how He is going to provide for You, because He created every single thing.  He doesn’t need to be a doctor in order to diagnose the cause of your emotional turmoil, physical ache, or spiritual angst. Why? Because He is all-knowing. He doesn’t wonder how He is going to fulfill His promise to You, because He is all powerful. He doesn’t need to frantically map out your future, because He knew your ending before He even created the foundations of the Earth.

Yep, He’s just that perfect.

Therefore anytime He commands you to do anything or allows something to come your way that you simply don’t like, you have absolutely no reason to act as though God owes you an apology. He simply doesn’t. Even when living in a fallen world, He is able to make every single thing work together for our good (Romans 8:28). That’s just how perfect He is. If it were left up to me, you'd probably be praying for years and getting no answer because I'd be asleep.

PonderedThought:

When unwelcomed circumstances occur or “delayed” promises fail to come to fruition in your own timing, do your actions display the unconscious belief that God owes you an apology? If so, share more details below on exactly how and how you tend to overcome this lie on a day-to-day basis.

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Our Miracle Birth Experience: Part 4

Evan and I looked at each other. I mildly conceded to receive the epidural, because I couldn’t think of another solution. All I knew was that I couldn’t endure the pitocin naturally. With that, the nurses prepared the way for the epidural. The only thing I didn’t think about beforehand was that, in order to receive the epidural, I would have to sit on the edge of the bed, without moving in the least bit, while doctors administered a large needle into my back. I already couldn't sit down during a contraction. So when they said that I would have to sit still as well, I didn’t know how that was going to happen. But GOD!

One of the doctors was really taken by the worship music playing in the background and came and squatted down in front of me and made distracting conversation while the other doctor inserted the needle into my back. With that, the pain subsided. Within an hour, the notches of intense pain went down. Although I could still feel the contractions and feel the baby pressing down against my back, it was still much better. By 6:00PM, I dilated to 8 cm. At this rate, I saw that I really wasn’t in control of creating this birth experience. Again, nothing was going according to plan lol.

By 7:00PM, I hadn’t dilated any further. Unfortunately, the midwife said that if my contractions didn’t increase with greater intensity, I may have to consider other options. This was a subtle way of her stating that I may have to get a c-section, considering the risk of infection now that my water was broken. I was so tired and hungry at this point that I just wanted things to be over. Unfortunately, “being over” in my mind did not result in the beauty of seeing baby Evan Jr. Instead, it resulted in me being able to sleep and eat. I never thought that I’d have such a permeating thought throughout my birth experience. 

By 8:00PM, the baby began moving down further into my birth canal and I was 8.5 cm dilated. By 8:50 PM, I was 10cm dilated and ready to push! This excited everyone in the room because the end was near. I started pushing with all my might! Thankfully, I didn’t have to just push on my back but was allowed to take on more dynamic movements (i.e. being on all fours on the bed, being on my side, using a bar and towel to push). With each push, everyone in the room yelled in support that I was almost there! However by 10:00PM, I became annoyed in hearing “almost there” when it had been over an hour and well...we weren’t there. 

By 11:00PM, I began to think, “can you just reach in and grab him??” But despite my less than optimistic thoughts, by 11:35PM, baby Evan Jr.’s head pushed through! They immediately placed him on my chest. The first thing that captivated me the most was his smell. He smelled so different. So much like real flesh. Then his cry stole my heart as the reality settled in that this was a real living human being. His cry was so piercing and yet so cute. I couldn't believe that this human being was pulled from my womb. Actually, this thought still boggles my mind. 

Minutes later we realized why my labor took so long. Little fella was 9lbs and 2 oz and was positioned occipito-posterior (facing stomach instead of back). And guess what? By the grace of God, I had no tearing, stiches, nor episiotomy! You can't tell me that that wasn't all grace.

A couple of things I would do again/or simply do next time: 

1. Acquire knowledge but rely on prayer throughout pregnancy. -The best advice given to me was to make a list of everything I'm believing God to do during pregnancy and to pray over that list constantly (ex. healthy baby, good supply of breast milk, peaceful family relations, etc.) 

2. Read Supernatural Childbirth by Jackie Mize,  and Ina May's Guide to Childbirth

3. Have a midwife and doula --Their support went beyond any medical experience I've ever had.

4. Drink nettle tea throughout pregnancy, raspberry tea throughout third trimester, and eat dates especially in your third trimester. These tips will help with decreasing the likelihood of tearing, will prepare womb for delivery, and can even decrease labor and delivery time. . 

5.  Do gentle yoga during third trimester to open up hips and to build pelvic floor muscles 

6. Book a photographer to capture the moments of labor and delivery. Everything was such a blur and these pictures really helped to capture the moment. 

Our Miracle Birth Experience: Part 3

Once the pitocin got into my system, oh boy did things kick into gear. Pitocin is a drug that acts a a synthetic hormone to Oxycontin, which helps the uterus to contract. Therefore, my contractions quickly intensified to another degree. Throughout the next four hours, the amount of pitocin that I received increased intermittently, as well as the intensity of my contractions. The contractions were so painful that I thought I was going to pass out. Each and every time I contracted, Evan was right there. When the onset of a contraction would come, I’d reach for Evan and ask, “Can I do this?” And he’d respond, “Yes, you got this. Let’s go!”

After that, I would stare at him, breathing unusually, until the contraction ended, and then I’d slump back down to wherever I was. At one point during a contraction, I gripped the insides of Evan’s arms so tightly that I thought I penetrated his skin with the grip of my nails. In that moment, Evan cringed with masked pain and stated, “Yep, I can take it! Come on!”

His support and gangster-like grit encouraged me.

Midway through the administration of pitocin, my mom walked in (mic drop). Guys, I had no clue that my mother and father had immediately hit the road to make the 8-hour trek to Chicago upon receiving notice that I’d been admitted to the hospital. Seeing my mom walk into the labor room made me cry unexpectedly. The pitocin caused the contractions to be so strong that when I wasn’t contracting, I looked like I had passed out. My mom immediately started crying when seeing me in such a weakened physical state.

In the room, I had my close friend, my husband, my mom, my doula, and the world's best photographer (Whitney Marner). I couldn’t have asked for better support.

By 1:15pm, I made up in my mind that I had endured my last contraction on pitocin. As if no one else was in the room, I looked at Evan and said, “I’m done Evan. I can’t do this anymore.”

I looked at the nurses and told them to get me off of the pitocin. I kept repeating over and over, “Get me off this pitocin. I can’t do this anymore.”

The midwife relayed the benefits of remaining on pitocin, considering that my contractions were still irregular. Looking back in hindsight, baby boy was simply trying to get in the right position before coming out. I wish someone had told me this and given me further insight into what positions to do to help baby boy engage in the right position. Hence, why my contractions were so irregular.

After 4 hours on pitocin, my contractions were intense but were still coming every 8-12 minutes. Things weren't progressing as expected. The midwife gave me other options in order to handle the pain—an epidural being one of them.

I was in such a state of delusion that I just looked at Evan and said, “You decide. All I know is that I can’t keep going on like this.” Evan reminded me of all the past times that I reminded him of just how much I didn’t want an epidural. Yada-yada-yada. All I knew was that I just wanted to get off of the pitocin. At the same time, I didn't want to be in labor for days. While trying to decide my options, I unexpectedly threw up several times. My body, which was already weak, became that much more feeble.

With the decision left unmade, the nurses and midwife stepped out of the room so that Evan and I could decide whether or not I wanted to move forward with an epidural. By this time, I “accidentally” snatched the IV out of my arm so that I was receiving no more pitocin.

Evan and I came to the conclusion to get the epidural. I knew that I couldn’t endure anymore more hours/days of labor—which looked likely without the pitocin (Did I tell you that I still hadn’t dilated any further in the four hours of laboring with pitocin? And did I tell you that they ended up rupturing my membrane too—that is breaking my water—and that I still hadn’t dilated any further by 1:15PM?)  In my head, I just wanted to eat lol. I kept thinking, “Can we just take an hour break to let me eat, nap, and then get back to it later?” But I guess labor doesn’t work like that? Or maybe it does, under different circumstances. Well, back to the story.

Our Miracle Birth Experience: Part 2

I thought laying down was a difficult position to be in when enduring a contraction, but doing so in a moving car proved much more trying. As we neared the hospital, I screamed for Evan to pull over as soon as  I felt the next contraction. Evan pulled over... but he slowly inched along the side of the road.

“STOP... THE CAR!!!!” I roared from an inner place that I usually don’t let out.  I think the intensity of my yell, again, shocked me more than him.

Once entering the hospital, Evan and I had to stop a couple of times to allow the next contraction to pass before finally arriving at triage for labor and delivery. Thankfully, we were taken back immediately where I was seen by my midwife. My midwife quickly checked to see how far along I was, and to my and Evan’s surprise, I was already 6 cm dilated. I knew I wasn’t just being a baby. I was officially in active labor!

With that, Evan and I packed up our belongings and transitioned from triage to the labor room. Y’all, by this time, I was willing to do whatever it took to get this baby to come. I geared up mentally as if I were in the NFL about to go out on the field on super bowl Sunday. Once in the labor room, I changed into my gown, put my favorite flip flops on, and then headed out to the hallways to walk/squat in order to endure the remainder of the contractions.

After two hours of Evan and I walking the hallways and me squating at each onset of a contraction, he and I  went back to the labor room. I then stepped into the labor tub (which felt SOOOO good!) . But I guess I felt too relaxed because my contractions completely stopped for a period of time. As a result, I jumped out of the tub and headed back out to the hallways for another set of squats.

 From midnight until 9:00AM Friday morning, despite my efforts, I only increased in dilation by 1 centimeter. The midwives gave me the option to either rupture my membranes (i.e. break my water for me) or to get on pitocin. These options were given after being warned  that I could be in labor for days at the rate that I was going. With no food since admittance to the hospital, I was deadbeat tired and working on a lack of sleep from the last 3 nights.

After hearing that I had only dilated by 1 more cm, I broke down into tears. No, it wasn't like a tear hear and there. I let the flood gates open. I felt physically, emotionally, and spiritually depleted. I had been trying to be strong all the way up until this point, and to be honest, it wasn’t the pain that broke me, but it was the lack of knowing when the end would draw near, and whether or not I could make it to that end, that left me discouraged and frustrated. My tears flowed into gentle sobbing as I fell over into Evan’s chest.

I looked at my good friend and asked if she could read scripture over me. The words that left her mouth were so refreshing to hear, but if I can be honest, I felt so far from the Lord. Up until this point, I hadn’t been in prayer throughout labor. And to be honest, I just wanted to use my own willpower to push this baby out. But despite all of the books I’d read, all of the supposed preparation I’d done, all of the knowledge I’d gathered, nothing was working. Nothing was going according to “my” plan.  

Evan and I prayed regarding whether to get the pitocin or to have the midwife rupture my membranes. We sensed the Holy Spirit's leading and decided to get the pitocin administered. While the nurses prepared to place an IV into my arm, Evan confided in me that the Lord spoke to him Proverbs 3:5-6,

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thine ways, acknowledge Him and He will direct thy paths.”

Up until that point, I had been leaning on my own understanding.

This labor was already showing me just how weak I was and that I couldn’t just will myself to push this baby out.

God was in control. Yes, I was about to have this baby, but even more so, looking back, the Lord was also teaching me a lesson about Himself and about me. He was humbling me and showing me that He desired for me to trust in His power and Sovereignty rather than leaning on my own strength and knowledge. I’ve asked the Lord several times since then how to do both. That is, how can I be a lover of knowledge and simultaneously lean on the Holy Spirit?

Since then, He’s taught me that there is a difference between being a lover of knowledge, and being one who places her hope in knowledge. He wants me to acquire knowledge as much as possible, but He also wants me to be weary of placing my hope in it.

Our Miracle Birth Experience

For the 4th time, I woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom. But this time was different. After several weeks of praying “when?”, I  finally heard a subtle hint. As I walked to the restroom, God let me know, in His own way, that my labor would start on that Wednesday. Therefore, on Tuesday night, I waited in anticipation for our newest arrival. I figured labor would be quick and easy and that the baby would be arriving within hours. Oh, what an assumption!

Around 11:30 PM on Tuesday night, I suddenly woke up in discomfort. It felt like something was sliding down my birth canal.  I didn’t think it felt like a contraction. Instead, I thought that it was simply an uncomfortable sleeping position that I found myself in.  However, after laying back down for another 30 minutes, I woke up again in discomfort. This time, I got up to use the restroom. I soon discovered that my mucus plug had fallen out. How I wish you could've seen my excitement! While in the restroom, I sent a quick text to one of my best friends to begin praying. I subtly alluded to her that I was in the beginnings of labor. I then took my birthing ball to the living room and began attempting to open up my hips, while distracting myself with a documentary on the history channel. After about an hour of doing that, my adrenaline kicked in when considering that I could potentially see our son in the coming hours. I really wanted to get labor going. By this time, my husband had awakened and his face was priceless when seeing me in the living room bouncing on a birthing ball at 1 AM in the morning. I didn’t want to wake him, because I figured that he would need all the rest he could get in case I was actually in labor.

“I think we should climb stairs,”  I said in response to his contemplative expression. 

After little convincing, regarding the benefits of climbing stairs to kick-start labor, Evan put his tennis shoes on. I think Evan's sudden sense of urgency had less to do with wanting to start labor and more to do with not wanting to hear another wave of incessant convincing proceeding from my lips. With that, Evan and I went to the lower level of our condominium and climbed 19 flights of stairs. Sounds crazy, I know, but didn't I tell you that I was running on adrenaline with the thought that we could soon be seeing our son?!

While climbing stairs, I soon realized that the discomfort that I was feeling earlier were actually subtle contractions. I came to this realization after seeing that the discomfort only came every 10-15 minutes. Well by 2:00 AM, after climbing 19 flights of stairs, Evan and I went back to sleep. With each contraction, I woke up to record the duration of the contraction on my app “contractions.” By 6:00 AM, the contractions were still 10-15 minutes apart. Because I was still running on adrenaline, I woke up, cleaned up, showered, shaved my legs (yes, I wanted to look like a woman during labor), and placed our suitcases by the door. By 7:00 AM, I woke up Evan and asked him to take me to Whole Foods, which was right down the street, for my last meal before heading to the hospital (so I thought). With that, we left for Whole Foods with our suitcases, stroller, and car seat in tow.

At Whole Foods I purchased my favorite frozen pizza (yasssss Table 5 cornmeal crust pizza) and purple grapes. I’d been planning for weeks to eat this before heading to the hospital, where I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat once I was admitted.  Well after returning home and consuming my last supper, by 12:00 PM, the contractions were growing more intense. Yet, they were still 10-15 minutes apart. By late afternoon, my contractions had stopped all together and didn’t resume until later that evening. This birth experience was already not going according to plan.

By Wednesday night, the contractions started back up again. This time, they were consistently 10 minutes apart and much more intense. Around 5:30 AM on Thursday morning, Evan and I took several laps in the lobby of our condominium and climbed a few stairs. I hadn’t gotten much sleep from the night before, and by this time, I just wanted our  baby to come. As the day progressed, my contractions didn’t cease but remained steady by being 10 minutes apart.

Let me pause by stating that at this point, the contractions were...painful but NOT unbearable. When they’d come, I would pause, concentrate, and breathe/moan throughout them. I would become so irritated if Evan asked me any questions or made any noise/comments when I was contracting. It was as if I needed all the concentration to focus throughout each wave of intensity.

Okay back to the order of events. As Thursday morning went on, I became accustomed to hearing my own moans every 10 minutes. With each contraction, I told myself the baby was that much closer to being seen. But by 3:00 PM on Thursday afternoon, I had had enough. I was riding  in the car with Evan, after letting him know, pretty sternly, that I needed some Nana Moo coconut milk ice cream from Mariano’s... because Whole Foods, which was around the corner, didn’t have the flavor that I wanted. So there we were, driving to the store. After purchasing it, we called the midwife. What I wanted to say to the midwife was,

“I’m in pain! I’m ready to have this baby. Be ready cause we about to show up at this hospital!”

But, I didn’t.

Instead, I politely answered the coming questions.

“No, my contractions aren’t 3-5 minutes apart. No, my water hasn’t broken. (And no, I don’'t want to just wait it out!).”

We weren’t going to the hospital after all. Because I requested to have a natural labor, my midwives suggested that I labor at home as long as possible until I was in active labor (which supposedly would occur when contractions were 3-5 minutes apart).

So after leaving the store, Evan and I headed back home. By 4:30 PM, my friend came over to help me do some more walking in order to hopefully get labor going. We walked...and walked..and walked. Every 8-12 minutes, we’d pause, I’d  lean against the wall, and inwardly yelp.

By 6:00pm, my contractions were still just as intense but not consistent.

By 8:00PM, while watching a movie with my friend and her husband who were keeping us company, I let Evan know that I wanted to go to the hospital. Because I was planning on having the baby naturally, we knew that this didn’t make much sense considering our plan was to only go to the hospital once I began active labor (i.e. at least 6 cm dilated) so that I wouldn’t be laboring at the hospital for so long.  Despite these reminders, I wanted to go to the hospital right then.  

Evan, using his better judgment, suggested that we wait a couple of hours to see what would happen. Well around 10:30 PM I went to bed. Actually, I pulled out a sleeping bag to sleep on the floor, because at this point, I needed to be able to lift myself up easily whenever a contraction came. But upon laying down and enduring the next contraction, I yelled with so much intensity that I shocked myself. (There's something about laying down, versus sitting up/walking during a contraction, that made contractions worse) I ran to the restroom and yelled for Evan. With the next contraction, I told Evan to take me to the hospital. I’m not usually so forceful (well, during pregnancy, such force would come about when a craving overcame me, hence the scenario with the NanaMoo ice cream) but I got up, grabbed my coat, my keys, my phone, and headed towards the door. I wasn't playing lol. Thankfully, our friends were still over. My best friend and her husband had actually decided to spend the night, just in case something like this were to happen. I’m so happy they did, because my friend’s support proved most pivotal in the coming hours!!

We called the midwife, and after letting us aware of our options, the midwife left it up to us to decide whether we wanted go to the hospital. My mind was made up. And thankfully, Evan didn’t object (I didn’t leave him much of a choice). Therefore, we all rushed to the hospital.

Feeling Empty?: The Moment I Realized that Nothing in This World Satisfied

Deadline at hand, I sat in the library at my computer, while wrestling with an increasing inward annoyance that began to become stronger by the day. I felt my world crumbling from the outside, and all of my ways of medicating the discomfort—through food, affirmation from my then boyfriend, academic success, a written schedule (to distract me from my own thoughts), facebook scrolling, going out and dancing—all failed. I unconsciously turned to every  single thing that brought me satisfaction in the past. It was like someone had frozen all of my bank accounts, and like a credit card that seems to decline, I stood in the cashier line pulling out every single card in my possession, hoping for some return. Without realizing what was going on, I inwardly began to give up.

I don’t know if you’ve ever felt it or experienced it. It’s almost like the nostalgia of childhood comes to an end and that inner joy and peace that you once felt, simply for just “being,” dissipates. The hopeful eyegate of the world grows dim, and life doesn’t seem so pleasant anymore. Some may feel it at the age of 12, others decades later. For me, it happened when I was 19.

During Finals of my Freshman year in college, for lack of better words, I felt totally and utterly...empty.  

If you’re reading this and know what I’m talking about, you understand that it’s not something that you can readily explain without experiencing it. If you are reading this, and nodding your head in agreement, mainly because you are feeling it now, there’s hope.

After turning to every single thing that I thought would satisfy my gnawing longing for “more,” He found me. I wasn’t looking for HIm. I wasn’t searching diligently for HIs truths. He simply found me. The ways in which He did are for another blog post. But the revelation received when He did, is the essence of what I want to convey. You can go through this life searching and looking for more. And maybe you find it. But I can guarantee you, that sooner or later-- that longing will reappear. That thing that you once found satisfaction in, will disappoint. And that emptiness in which I describe, will become a reality once again.

When Christ found me, I thought (like everything else) the love and peace that I felt would go away with time. I literally counted the months until I’d go back to my old habits, my old ways, and my old desires. Though I stray from His fold many times, upon my return, the same love and peace that I felt years ago remains the same. He doesn’t change. His presence is just as addicting. His security is just as promising. His forgiveness is just as powerful to wash away my dirt. And HIs fullness is always available.

I encourage you, whether you know Christ or not, if you are sensing this longing, like a babe in the arms of his mother, simply give up and ask the Lord to “find you.”  He’d be happy to leave 99 of his righteous sheep to find the one.

Confess that you are a mess and in need of help. I promise, as He is a loving Father, He will beckon your call. The way in which He chooses to pick you up into His arms may not always feel pleasant in the moment. Sometimes, it may feel like He is hurting you further. But this is a lie. He desires more than anything to be intimate with you. But You have to trust HIm.

My only encouragement is that once you are in His arms, don’t push away. Don’t try to fix yourself up further. Simply just “be.”   

5 Things I'm Learning in Marriage

4. Run to God 1st...then that book, blog, friend, mentor, sermon.

Run to God 1st...

Then that book, blog, friend, mentor, sermon.

This is probably the hardest for me and the most undervalued lesson learned. Whenever there is a disagreement, I’m so prone to run to “fixing it”—subtly telling myself that I am more capable than God and any wisdom/ guidance that He can grant. My best advice is to first run to God in prayer and WAIT  for Him to lead/guide you on what your next step should be.

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