So... what do you say after a day like today?
I guess I say I'm sorry. Not so sorry for standing up for our decisions, but sorry if in some way I acted like I think anyone is overreacting or being dramatic by choosing NOT to have bumpers. I totally understand why you don't, and I probably wouldn't have them either if not for the EB risk. Anyway, I just wanted those of you who have lost children or loved ones to SIDS know that I am so, so sorry. And I hope you know that me asking people NOT to comment about the bumper thing was not me trying to be insensitive to that. It was more just because I didn't want that can of worms to be opened. (And we all see how well that worked out.) Anyway, I'm just so sorry you know that kind of pain. Because I know it too. And I hope you know I wasn't trying to be insensitive to that. I have a very good friend who lost her baby boy to SIDS a long time ago, and I ache for her every day. (I love you, M).
Why does God always seem to choose to teach us humility the hard way? Is there any easy way to learn that lesson?
It's been so crazy today. I was so up this morning after a good night's sleep (not going so great tonight... Matt's still fighting that battle as we speak), dressing change went excellent, and his face just looked so good today. I was so on top of the world... literally, a bounce in my step. And then... all the negative commenting on the blog, a horrible email I received on Jonah's gmail account about something totally unrelated yet even more hurtful, and then, lo and behold if Jonah didn't develop yet another tongue blister and could not eat. Crazy how it all just flips upside down like that.
And in those moments, you have to think, "Is somebody trying to tell me something here?" Either God's trying to move me here or Satan's trying to pull me away from Him. I don't know which it was, but I've been convicted on so many levels tonight. I feel like so much is running through my head, there's no way I can touch on it all now (Did I mention Jonah is still awake?... Oh, I did? Okay then.)
There is only one other time in my life recently (other than today) when I have felt so pursued by Satan. It was just a couple weeks after Gabe died. Upon our arriving at church, we went to Sunday school, and they were having a baby shower for a girl who had just had her second or third child, and he was wearing the very same outfit I had been given by a friend the Sunday morning before Gabe died. And then, I came home and found HORRIBLE comments left on posts about Gabe (thus the reason I originally had comment moderation enabled.) Comments that I won't even allude to here, because they were so horrible, and I truly think the person who wrote them most have been demon-possessed, because I don't know how anyone could ever say anything like that. Anyway, my point is... I feel pursued by the Devil today. But it's only pushed me closer to my Jesus, so even though it's been a hard day, I consider it a victory.
I made the comment to my mom today that I feel like God only listens to about 1/8th of my prayers... which I know isn't true, but I was feeling sorry for myself. (Bear with me... this gets a lot better). I've just felt so frustrated and angry, and truthfully, although I know some of you think I have some inspirational faith (although those of you who really know me know the truth), I maybe pray every three days lately (hold on... I told you it gets better). I've been having a hard time. So anyway, I was feeling sorry for myself, and I made that comment.
And then I saw what had happened on the blog, and I got so angry. SO ANGRY. I was shaking as I typed my last post. And Mom asked me if I wanted to think about it a little more before I posted, and I immediately said no, wrote it in about two minutes, and posted. And even though some of it needed to be said, I'm not proud of how angry I was or that I used all caps a lot. I don't like capitalizing in anger.
And in the email that was so nasty we received, it said something along the lines of "it's people like you that make me want to have nothing to do with Christianity." (And that was before my angry post even, so as you can see, that person is not my biggest fan.) And that made me SO ANGRY again. But that's not my point. My point is that it got me thinking. What is Christianity all about? What is it that people have in their heads? What do they expect it to look like? What is it they want to have nothing to do with exactly?
And "all" I could come up with is this:
I am a sinner saved by grace. Broken. Imperfect. Pretty much disgusting.
I'm the low-down, dirty, slimy, stinky scum between your toes. (No offense to your toes or anything.)
But I'm forgiven.
And I need lots of forgiveness today. Forgiveness for many things, but most of all for doubting my God... for doubting that He loves me enough to handle all this, for doubting how He's decided to use Jonah and this blog, for doubting that He hurts as much as I do when Jonah gets a blister on his tongue.
So back to my story... (man, I'm having a hard time staying on topic). So I made that comment to mom, angry posted on my blog, responded to nasty email (and felt lots of hatred in my heart... but I'm better now), and then Matt came home. And I was praying over Jonah asleep in his crib and crying and just so ticked off I could barely stand it. And after Jonah woke up, he still couldn't eat, and the blister had gotten bigger. So instead of a bottle, he ate some squash (which he decided to love again... funny how your perception changes when you are starving) and then I gave him some bananas (instead of avocado), because I knew it would be something he would like, and I really needed him to eat. After that, we set up for dressing change, and then Jonah and I went out on the deck. And it was raining and beautiful. We were watching the rain and listening to the chimes, and I started praying out loud (something that is kind of weird for me) for Jonah to God just about everything, but mostly that He would make that blister pop so I didn't have to figure out how to stick a long needle on a syringe in his mouth and lance it myself.
And just after I finished praying, I put my finger way back in his mouth again, and the blister was drained (after having checked it only ten minutes earlier). And I thought, "Wow. I am NOTHING."
And I've spent all afternoon thinking about all this negative comments and the nasty email. I've thought about the phrasing, "if you really love your son," and "if you really care what's best for him." (Is there any doubt???) And the conclusion I've come to (the hard way, of course) is WHO CARES? Who cares about comments like that or nasty emails? Who cares how they made me feel? Who cares that I was angry? Well, God cares, but that's not my point. My point is that we just need to get over ourselves.
I. AM. NOTHING.
But with my Jesus, I am PERFECT. I am whole. I am forgiven. And even when I've had a sinful day like today, and I've felt Satan prowling around so close I can feel his breath, he cannot get me. I am already TAKEN. I'm spoken for.
I'm the daughter of the Most High King.
So get behind me, Satan.
Because my God's mercies are new EVERY morning, and tomorrow is a new day.
(Jonah's finally asleep now. We worked from 9 to 11:30 to get him down. He's gonna need some new mercies of his own if you know what I'm saying... JUST KIDDING. Sort of.)