jonah wisdom

Just now as I was taking Jonah to the potty, he and I had this conversation.

Jonah: Where did that blister come from?
Me: I think you've been scratching there. You really like to scratch.
Jonah: (defensively) No I don't! It just itches!
Me: I know, Buddy. I know it itches so much. I wish I could take your itchies away.
Jonah: Only my Father can do that.
Me: I know. And we'll keep praying every day that He takes your boo boos away. But if He doesn't heal you here, where will you be healed?
Jonah: In Heaven. But if I'm healed here, what will that be like?
Me: No more itchies. No more blisters. No more bandage changes.
Jonah: And my skin would be perfect just like other people's?

And then I cried.

Y'all, most moments of most days, EB doesn't sink my heart and make me tear up like I used to. As Jonah has gotten older and has been able to put words to his pain, discouragement and disappointment, and we've been able to support him with words and actions he can now understand, the day to day suffering has seemed less somehow.

But then there are days like today, where we went to Aldi and then to a produce store, and no fewer than three people at each place asked him or me if he had the chicken pox, got hurt, "got in a fight with a bear," or what happened to him. Today, for the first time, Jonah answered someone directly, by himself. He said, in a hushed voice, "It's a skin disorder." The words he's heard me say a million times. It wasn't with hurt or shame that he said it, but I know he knows he's different. Oh, that he grows to learn that "different" is not bad or negative - that people who are just "normal" miss out on some of the treasures and joys in life that we have discovered because of his EB. That he will know how much he is loved, how special he is to SO many people, and of the lives he has changed, purely because of his faith and fight.

I cried as I got him off the toilet and gave him a huge hug. "Jonah. You are beautiful and perfect. Do you know that? It doesn't matter that you get boo boos on your skin or that you wear bandages. You are so amazing and special, and you are the toughest guy I know. Do you know I think you're perfect?"

"Yes, Mom." And then he hugged me so tight, because in his head, I was the one who needed comforting, not him. That's just how he is. Another gift he has because of his struggles - a compassionate and tender heart for others. Fitting, I suppose - as his boo boos are visible on the outside, most of us carry our boo boos on the inside, where no one can see. And when I'm trying to fix my boo boos with practices and theories and plans, I'm thankful to remember, when I'm in need of true healing, "only my Father can do that." 

For I will restore health to you, and your wounds I will heal, declares the Lord... - Jeremiah 30:17

even when it's hard

This is my current Facebook status:

We got a call about two toddler boys last Wednesday and our family was chosen for them that same day. After almost a week of praying, loving them, and being excited/terrified, we met them last night and decided that we are unable to bring them home. They are good boys, but need more than we can give them, given our circumstances. Due to some physical/emotional safety concerns for Jonah, we had to say no. We had been praying for clarity and God gave it to us, just not in the way we anticipated. I am heartbroken and confused. God is good and I know His plan is best, but the refining hurts so much. Will you please pray for these boys? That they go to parents who can love them, give them the structure they need, and most of all, show them Jesus? I love them and it's hard to let go.

I might have even already sorted their clothes and put them away in their dressers. I might have spent the last three days on Etsy looking at dinosaur stuff to decorate their room.

Will y'all pray? My heart is so heavy, and I just feel like I've been run over by a Mac truck. I'm not using nice words with God today, knowing that He can handle my real feelings. He's big enough. He's good. He's there.


Even when it feels like He's not.


I'm STILL believing God.


But the pouty, selfish, human part of me says, "But I'm not happy about it." (I so badly want to put a smiley face beside this to make it seem less harsh than it is.)


Separately from my post, a friend just posted a link to this article.


It was a good reminder today. The best stuff is often the hardest to hear. The molding of the clay involves a lot of crushing, smacking, and splatting. I'm going to be a good looking vase someday.


I'm sure of it.


This third I will put into the fire; I will refine them like silver and test them like gold. They will call on my name and I will answer them; I will say, ‘They are my people,’ and they will say, ‘The Lord is our God.'” - Zechariah 13:9


You turn things upside down, as if the potter were thought to be like the clay! Shall what is formed say to the one who formed it, “You did not make me”? Can the pot say to the potter,“You know nothing”? - Isaiah 29:16

If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot disown himself. - 2 Timothy 2:13

anton's story, part one

I really don't want to write this story, because I know I'll leave things out and that there's no way I can do it justice. I'm sitting down without much idea of how this will go, but my prayer is that God will be in my words, and show you the beauty of this story though my words be lacking...


There is so much in my head these days. About God. About Life. About our purpose here. I am being convicted (tortured?) left and right, and I have felt so restricted. I just mean that I have made excuses to God - why I can't be used, why I'm not the one He would want, all the things I'm not able to do with my "limited" life.


And then, on February 8, 2011, God said, "Shut it. Get your lazy butt up, stop making excuses and DO something." Or something like that. But let me back up...


Do you guys know Kristy? She is a mommy of five with an amazing (often heartbreaking) story. In July of 2005, she gave birth to her second son, Isaac, who had a severe brain defect and lived only six days. (He also had blistering and sloughing skin, but nobody knew what it was.) They were told he had contracted a virus in utero and that his condition was not genetic. In February of 2008, she gave birth to her fourth son, Asher, who also died from the same brain condition. Kristy has vulnerably and honestly shared her grief journey and how God has led her and her family through the valley. She began blogging her journey in November of 2007 when they found out that Asher was not going to live.


I found Kristy's blog through a click here then here then here sort of situation soon after my Gabe died in April of 2008. I soon lost it in the vastness of cyberspace but never forgot her story or her boys. 


Vanessa found Kristy's blog and my blog in the Fall of 2008, soon after she found out, at 19 weeks, that her conjoined twins had a zero chance of survival. Vanessa and Kristy became friends on Facebook shortly after Vanessa's sweet girls, Melody and Madison, were born and passed away on November 11, 2008. 


In February of 2009, I gave birth to Jonah and my blog really started getting traffic due to his rare diagnosis and prayer requests and mentions from Facebook and other bloggers.


On June 1, 2009, Kristy gave birth to her daughter, Hope. Hope did not have the brain defect that Isaac and Asher had but had some sort of skin condition. I started getting comments on the blog. Readers who read both of our blogs asked me to go show Kristy's family some support. They soon diagnosed sweet Hope with Epidermolysis Bullosa, yet another rare genetic disorder.


God led me to Kristy's blog again. I haven't lost it since. :) Kristy and I soon became Facebook friends and became close through our EB connection. I sent her diapers. She sent me baby food. We've just tried to love on and support each other any way we could think of. (And she tempts me with awesome books she's reading and then I have to go buy them and read them too.)


In January of 2010, sweet Anton, a child with Epidermolysis Bullosa, was born as one in a set of twins a world away. He was abandoned by his parents at the hospital and became an orphan.


In the summer of 2010, Kristy came to Texas to meet up with some other mommy bloggers who had all lost babies. Their reunion was taking place 15 minutes from Vanessa's house. Vanessa joined them and was able to meet Kristy face to face, after having read her blog for a year and a half.


All through January and February of 2011, God moved my heart. We agonized that we couldn't adopt Anton ourselves, but I knew that God was asking me to help. On Friday, February 4th, 2011, I first blogged about Anton. He had been in the hospital for a year. I didn't know what to do. On February 7th, I once again blogged about Anton, pleading with folks to spread his story. It wasn't enough. What was I supposed to be doing? How could I help? The Holy Spirit just wouldn't leave me alone. I prayed that God would give me wisdom and guidance. Please, show me what it is.


On February 8, 2011, God gave Kristy, Vanessa, and me a big ol' face slappin'. In that ONE day, Anton's post and PayPal button went up on Reece's Rainbow, I started the Hope for Anton fundraising blog, Kristy, who had found out about Anton from my blog, posted about him and posted his Reece's Rainbow link, and Vanessa... well, God made her get on Facebook after a three to four month hiatus. Vanessa had given up Facebook and had not been on IN MONTHS. This particular day, she just got on to suggest two of her friends to each other to try to connect them for a possible job opportunity. She was scrolling through her news feed, and there was a post from Kristy about Anton. Vanessa clicked on his photo, and read his story on Reece's Rainbow. She immediately knew that he was her son. After talking and praying with her husband, she called Kristy. She first left Kristy a voicemail and later found out that the reason Kristy had not answered the phone was because she was rocking Hope to sleep. As she rocked (and Vanessa was leaving her a voicemail), Kristy was praying that God would clearly show them their role in Anton's life. Kristy called Vanessa back and both women cried as Vanessa told her the news. Immediately the Delgados began pursuing sweet Anton. Vanessa soon contacted me, we became Facebook friends, and I invited her to come and stay a week with us as soon as possible.


Last Sunday, I picked Vanessa up from the airport. She began her "EB Training" immediately. All the while her adoption agency was working with Reece's Rainbow on their case. By Friday morning (yesterday), it was official. Vanessa and Jason were Anton's committed family. She was here with me when we found out. We toasted with pieces of bacon.


Sometimes our God is a God of subtleties. But sometimes, SOMETIMES, God obviously and intricately weaves a story so amazing and beautiful, it takes your breath away. Sometimes He takes three women from three different states and links them together through the loss of their five babies and through an incredibly rare genetic disorder that most everyone has never heard of. Sometimes, when we think that good could NEVER come from things so awful and we think we'll never come through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, God is working and orchestrating something so beautiful, we could never imagine it in a million years. Did God take our babies so Anton would find his family? I don't think so. Did God allow Jonah and Hope to have EB so Anton could come home? I doubt it. But He is able to do immeasurably more than we could ever imagine to bring hope and joy out of dark places.


And as Kristy stated in this beautiful post, "Vanessa, Patrice and I all have babies waiting for us in Heaven and I can't help but think that they are smiling down, knowing that they each have served such a grand purpose."


Y'all, God is so very, very good. I pray that you know Him and know his infinite love and abounding grace. Even when all hope seems lost, it NEVER is. God is STILL in the miracle business. Open your eyes. Stop making excuses. Let Him use you. He has a beautiful story to tell and He so wants you to be a part of it. 

i bow my will... or at least i'm trying to

I've written some about the book my Ladies' Bible/Book Study Group is doing called Satisfy My Thirsty Soul by Linda Dillow. This book is amazing, and as I've said before, even though I'm usually not a fan of non-fiction, it has made me dig in the Bible and crave the Word more than I have in a very long time. 


The book discusses the meaning of true worship, its purpose, and how to take every aspect of your life - pain, times of waiting, attitude, work, words etc and turn them into worship. 


Monday night's chapter was "I Bow My Will." And I can't stop thinking about it. The first part of the chapter described how Jesus asked to be relieved of his cup (dying on the cross) three times. It was AGONY to bend his will to match God's. It's so hard for us too. The second part of the chapter retold the Abraham/Isaac story where Abraham follows God's command, bows his will and almost sacrifices his son for God.  "Abraham trusted God enough to bow. Even though Abraham did not understand what God was doing, he bowed his intellect. Even though Abraham loved Isaac with a deep father love, he bowed his affections. Even though Abraham wanted to scream, "No, God!" he bowed his will." Wow. I don't know what it was about this time, maybe just that I'm a mother, but that is a crazy emotional story for me now. The agony that both Abraham and Isaac experienced but turned to worship... Blows. My. Mind.


Anyway, the point of the chapter was this: What is your Isaac? What is the thing that you are holding on to? What is the thing or person you love the most that you would withhold from God? What do you hesitate to trust him with?


The answer for me? Jonah's Life. Hands down. When Gabe died, Matt's parents took care of the arrangements. We could either bury him in some kind of Baby Land area of the cemetery or we could buy two or four plots together. I wanted us to be together and so they purchased the four plots for us. We did not need the fourth, but three was not an option. THAT FOURTH GRAVE HAUNTS ME. I am so completely terrified of the possibility that I will outlive my second son. I told someone last week that if Jonah dies,  I feel like friends would have to stay by my side 24-7 on suicide watch. I feel like I would crumble to the ground. I don't know that I would survive it. My love for and dependence on him scares me. I can't describe its intensity. Maybe those of you who have lost a child or have a child with a possibly fatal condition can understand. (Or maybe it's the same for all moms? I really don't know.) I do know that I can't describe it to you, but trust me, it's probably not healthy. I don't want or need to love Jonah less. But I do need to trust God more, that no matter what happens, He has known it all along and can handle it. I could live (and be joyful) even if something did happen to Jonah. (Try telling my heart that.)


I'm going somewhere with this... I think. Stick with me.


Meredith, my sweet friend who hosts our group, created a little Isaac Altar at the front of her living room in front of the fire place. At the end of study, during our personal quiet/worship time, she encouraged us to write what our "Isaac" was on a piece of paper and to lay it down on the altar if/when we were ready. I went into the dining room away from the crowd. I knew this was going to be hard. Meredith played some quiet worship music and I read Psalm 84. Two verses spoke to me as I thought about sweet Jonah (and Gabe too.)


Psalm 84:4 - Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you. 
Psalm 84:10 - Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.


Gabe dying is a victory.
Jonah dying would be a victory.


I'm not beating myself up for letting the thought of him dying take my breath away and make me feel like life wouldn't be worth living. That cup would be agony. I would ask that it be taken away. That would be expected, understood, and natural.


But what I have to learn is that I can't control the uncontrollable. Jonah is in God's hands, no matter what. 


So finally, I wrote down "Jonah's Life" in big letters on my piece of paper and bordered it in smaller letters with those two verses. I then walked back to the living room and knelt in front of the altar. We weren't really burning the pieces at that moment (we took them outside later) but the fire was burning behind the altar all symbolic-like. Meredith was right by the altar. I know she knew what I had written on that paper. (We have talked much about this very thing.) I was crying. She was crying. And at that moment, the gas logs died down and the fire almost completely went out. I looked at Meredith, smiled, and whispered, "I think that's a sign I don't have to burn mine." We both laughed through the tears. She put her forehead against mine and said, "I don't think it is," and don't you know, she cranked that fire right back up. 


She was crying

I was crying.


She was on her face praying.


I was on my knees resisting.


God was very present.


And finally, I let go of my slip of paper and handed my son's life back over to my Abba. To the One who loves Jonah even more than I do. To the One who understands what giving up a son's life is all about. To the One who really gets it. I let him have back what is His in the first place. 


And I'm trusting that, if I do outlive my second son, God's inexplicable peace and strength will pick me up and get me through it. I can't imagine, y'all. Losing Gabe was so hard. Losing Jonah would be a million times harder. I can't bear the thought. But my God is bigger than my fears. He's bigger than the uncertainty. He has written out Jonah's days and holds them all in His hands. 


So it's okay to let go. He's got this.

being intentional

I'm feeling God asking me to blog less and make time with Him a priority. For Him. For myself. For my marriage. So I'll be blogging some, but it will probably be even less than it is now... for a while anyway. Please bear with me and keep checking back.


I have to be intentional and MAKE time or it won't happen. And I really need/want it to happen. I want God and Matt to stop getting my leftovers. I know you understand.

convicted

Between this post by my friend, Meredith, (seriously, go read it) and this video...





posted by my other friend, Meredith, I'm feeling convicted today.


Don't you hate/love it when God smacks it right in your face like that?

yet another miracle

Wow! What a day! When the nurse took Jonah's weight, and we saw what it was, I just started crying. Jonah was looking at me like I was a crazy person. Isn't it funny how we, as parents, tend to FREAK OUT (with reason... most of the time anyway), but all the while our kids are like, "It's cool. Whatever." So nonchalant. He never even acknowledged the fact that he was pushing me (not really him but the circumstances) to the edge of a mental breakdown. Sweet, oblivious, 18 lb 3 oz child. How I love thee!

And just to clear things up for those of you who have just begun reading or don't know much about EB - You may think I'm crazy for talking g-tube for a (previously) 17 lb 11 oz eight-month-old. And if he were a "normal" baby, we would be. But the problem is not how much he weighs. The problem is with his growth curve. Any time he starts falling off his growth curve (and a month without gaining any weight was doing that), we have issues. There's a lot to consider with EB, but nutrition is #2 (I consider #1 to be infection). Like I said in an earlier post, once EB kids get behind, it's a real struggle getting them caught up. They need MANY more calories than "healthy" kids, and their bodies require lots of EXTRA to heal the blisters they do have and to regenerate new skin. Healing takes a lot out of you.

So... I hope that explains the urgency of the last couple weeks. And there is still a great chance that we are not out of the woods. I don't think this is the last time we'll be dealing with this (although God can do anything, so we wait in hopeful expectation), as there is so much to consider. G-tubes are good for so many reasons for EB kids - adequate nutrition, a happy alternative to shoving lots of meds and vitamins down your kid's throat, and one I've thought about a lot: a way to nourish them if they fall down and hit their lips or mouth. Can you imagine? Big blisters, days of healing, and the inability to eat. I can see why many EB parents get them. Actually, the idea of the g-tube itself sounds pretty good... it's just the hospital stay, the surgery, and mostly the intubation that scare the you know what out of me.

But anyway, for today I am SO happy, SO grateful, SO completely amazed at what God has done over this last week. EIGHT OUNCES!!! Wow! The most he's ever gained in a week is six ounces. And I just love you guys to pieces. Ninety-eight comments on a post about my kid gaining eight ounces! I can't say enough about what a great support you are to us, and to me especially. Knowing that Jonah is being prayed for all over the country and the world gives us so much hope and strength. We feel so blessed that God has given us the gift of YOU! Again and again I ask for you to pray VERY specifically, and again and again, God says, "Okay. Since SO MANY of you asked, I'll do it." You can just back and read my daily prayer requests from the NICU and see directly how God answered each and every prayer. Isn't that amazing? So many times God answers prayers or works in our life, and either we're too busy and miss it, we chalk it up to coincidence, or we realize it but then forget about it a week later. I am so BLESSED to have this blog. Not only do I have a record of Jonah's life and medical journey, but most importantly, I have a written record of God's miracles in his life... in our lives. That's just so neat to me. Sorry, I know I'm rambling. I'm just so excited for the day when Jonah can read (and truly understand) where he was, how far he's come, and the many, many things God has done for him.

And maybe by that time, he'll be completely healed.

Faith as a mustard seed...

It's coming, friends. Just you wait and see.

(My friend, Katie (Quinn's Mom), took this photo of Jonah and me on the hayride at The Pumpkin Patch. I just had to share it. She did such a good job. Look at that sweet face!)

walk to remember

On Sunday I spoke at Walk to Remember in Lewisville, a walk for families who have lost babies to miscarriage, stillbirth or in the neonatal period.

I was so honored to be asked to speak, and even more honored to be able to tell our story. I hope that I was somehow an encouragement to someone who has been in a similar place.

I was really nervous, but overall I felt really good about it. My main goal was to NOT completely sob through the whole thing, so by that standard, it was definitely a success. My voice broke several times and I got very teary, but I think I could still be understood. Shwoo.

Basically I just told about what happened with Gabe - my pregnancy, our last couple days with him, and about our discovery that he had gone to be with Jesus. I also told about our Mother's Day message from him, and closed with a few things I've learned/God's taught me in the last year and a half. It was very hard having to say it all out loud to a group full of strangers, but in a way it was easy, because I knew if anybody could understand, it was them.

I don't think I anticipated being quite as emotional as I was. I mean I knew I would get emotional during my talk, but I was crying about five minutes after we got there. I met a woman there who had just lost her twins at about twenty weeks only three months earlier. Seeing her struggle with the raw grief that we experienced right after Gabe died... it was hard. I felt so sad for her and it brought so many of those emotions back for me. I missed Gabe in that moment more than I've missed him in a long time. We also wrote messages on tags to send up on balloons, and writing directly to Gabe always makes me very emotional.

It was a great experience, though, and I'm so excited whenever I can tell people about Gabe and Jonah.

One thing I said that I think is an important thing I've learned:

I don't like it when people say things like, "Everything happens for a reason." Maybe that's true, but I just think it kind of makes it sound like God took Gabe to teach us some kind of a lesson. And I just don't think that is the nature of God. Ok, you need to learn something, so I'm going to take your baby away. Maybe that's not what people mean when they say it, but that's how a grieving mother may perceive it. God did not TAKE Gabe. Gabe died because evil and sickness and death exist. And they exist because the Devil exists.

Gabe died because life sucks sometimes, and shitty (sorry, but there's no better word) things happen.

But it was NOT God's plan for Gabe to die.

Did I learn some things? Yes.

Did God teach me through my situation? Absolutely.

Did he take Gabe away so I would learn all those things? ABSOLUTELY NOT.

God, in his nature, is LOVE. Death and disease are not his plan and are never what He desires for us or puts on us.

He hurts WITH ME over Gabe and Jonah. He hurts even more than I do.

He knows every tear I've shed and has felt every emotion I've suffered.

I closed with this:

People ask, "How are you not angry with God after losing Gabe and now this with Jonah?"

My answer: I would be lying if I said there haven't been MANY moments that I've been angry at God. I would be untruthful if I said there weren't even "I hate you"s whispered in my deepest moments of sadness. But I'm so thankful that God knows the difference between words spoken out of the depths of despair versus truth.

And it all boils down to this - How can I hate or push away the One who ultimately makes all of this okay? - The One who holds Gabe and cares for him in Heaven and the One who, one day, will heal Jonah and make him totally complete.

Both of my boys are PERFECT because of God. And one day we'll all be hanging out in Heaven in perfect bodies with ETERNITY to spend together. And that's pretty wonderful when you really take the time to think about what that will be like. So no, I don't hate God. He is the One who has healed us, and the One who gives me the promise that I definitely, certainly, 100%, without a doubt WILL see Gabe again. And we'll ONLY have every day forever and ever to make up for the time we missed out on here. That's ALL we get.

I'll take it.

(Thanks for the photos, Shaina.)

new mercies

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.)