Shifting Focus

    I've been thinking a lot lately about priorities.  I've been feeling the pull one way or another to up my focus... I've experienced guilt trips from others, from myself, from society's norms.  I allowed these to bring me down.  I've allowed the thoughts and opinions of others, and even my negative opinions of myself to swallow me whole.

  It is a struggle for most to keep from making idols of those things that are important to them.  Whether it be their marriage, children, careers, keeping up with their looks, finding approval and respect from friends and strangers alike, and the list goes on...  I know I'm guilty of putting much of this at the very top of my list, only to find that my relationship with Jesus keeps inching down the line.

   For me, my biggest struggle has been knowing that I don't measure up in a multitude of areas in my life.  I may be the best I can be in certain areas, but I've let comparison steal my joy.  I've let the gaps and imperfections become the stars of my thoughts while Jesus sits quietly waiting for me to remember Him... all that He is to me, all that He's done for me, all that He has for me, and all that I can be through Him.

    When we start focusing on the things the world dictates as important and worthy of our utmost attention, we lose focus on what is true, what is right, what is real.  We look away from our Savior, and begin sinking into those rough waters we once walked on when our eyes were on Him. We try to become our own saviors.... we think we can do it alone... we put too much faith in ourselves and end up failing miserably.

    I haven't forgotten about my Best Friend, but I surely haven't been the friend He deserves.  I notice that every time I turn away even the slightest bit, the weight of it begins to darken my spirit.  Depression starts tying that noose around my neck.  Anger bubbles up and begins to boil over.  Sadness drowns me in my own tears.  Defeat throws me into that black hole and repeatedly buries me in my own guilt.

    I can't do life on my own.  I can't do life by putting all my faith in my husband or children.  I can't do life by putting all my hope in my friends. I can't do life by believing my successes will bring me true happiness. None of us can.  If we live that way, if we consistently look for saving in all the wrong places we are absolutely fooling ourselves.  We can only thrive with Jesus.

    There will be periods of time where my focus is shifted.  I'll feel on top of the world.  I'll think I have it all and that nothing will stop me.  How naive.  How utterly silly.  All the good, all the glorious things that happen to me, don't happen because of me.  They don't happen because I am worthy.  They happen because Jesus wants good things for me.  How dare I put myself on a pedestal and expect not to tumble under pressure.  How dare I force that sort of worship and praise onto my loved ones, who will never measure up to the perfection that is my Savior.

    I'm not perfect.  I never will be.  I don't know much... and the more I learn, the more I realize that I have not even breached the surface.... but I do know, from my little experience in this world, that I need Jesus.  There's no way around it.  The world's measure of success should mean absolutely nothing to me.  I could mold myself to be much more beautiful, poised, and successful if I really put my mind to it... I believe we all have that drive in us... but all the beauty, money, and adoration.... that's all pale in comparison to what my heart could be if I put my all into growing in the Lord and living a sold out life for HIM.

    That's not to say that we can't be beautiful, successful, or well-loved by others.  Obviously those things are great.... until they become our number one priorities.  All is good and well with our souls until we eagerly gift them to our idols. It's so easy to do this without realizing we've pushed the Lord aside.... we must reel in our thoughts and actions... hold them captive... and direct them toward the One who deserves all of our attention and praise.

    If you're struggling to keep your priorities straight... if you feel the need to shift your focus back on Jesus, know that I am in your corner.  I'm praying for you and your walk with Him.  Will you do the same for me?  I believe this thing called "life" is meant to be lived with joy... we're meant to appreciate the blessings God has given us... but we can so easily take those blessings and make idols of them if we're not careful.  Let's strive to keep our Savior in the spotlight.  The rest of it, however precious must never be more than the supporting cast.... or, in some cases, the backstage crew. ;)

    I know my thoughts are jumbled up and came out in one big mess, but I hope you can sense my intention and know my heart in this matter.  I have messed up royally, so I see the urgency in setting things straight... I hope that you are able to learn from my experience: the importance of Jesus being your #1.  Much love to you, friends.  Hold me accountable, and if you wish, I will do my best to do the same for you! xoxo

~Em

A Loss is a Loss

*Warning: This is an extremely personal post.  I didn't want to share with anyone other than the couple of people I already opened up to, but I really feel that someone out there needs to hear my story to receive their own healing.  So I'm going to stretch myself and share... despite how silly or small it may seem to others.  It's big for me. I hope that you find encouragement from this in some small way.  *If you're a dude.... you probably want to skip out on this post.  Just sayin'. ;)    

 


  Oh, how I loathe the term "chemical pregnancy."  It takes away from the miracle, the life, the depth of what once was.  It makes a tiny, profound creation seem like a speck of dust.  Yes, I realize the size of such a creation isn't much bigger, but if your focus is on that little detail, you're missing my point.

 Over Mother's Day weekend, I experienced such a loss.  I had my typical symptoms of pregnancy about 4-5 days prior... maybe even up to a week before... tracking time isn't my strong suit. I always get nauseous and fatigued even before missing my period, and it was obvious enough to me that this was more than just PMS symptoms.  I'm still nursing my almost-17-month-old part time, so my cycle is still quite irregular, but I was past my first "due" date for Aunt Flo.  So I bought a 3-pack First Response Pregnancy Test.

  I took the first test late Friday afternoon and got a faint positive.  A cheesetastic smile plastered itself across my face. I tried not to become attached, I really did... but I'm a sucker for a pink line.  A pink line is full of possibilities.  A pink line brings with it hopes and dreams and fills your heart with love... great big love... for a tiny life growing inside your womb.  At least it does for me. I was excited... nervous.... but mostly beaming at the thought of bringing a sixth child into our family.  Despite my most valiant effort, I latched on to all of those hopes and dreams and plans like a leech.

  Because I wanted to be absolutely certain of the pregnancy, I took another test Saturday morning.  I was nauseous. That was a good sign.  I fully expected to see a slightly darker line on that stick.  Nothing.  I'll admit, I did fret over that disappointing sight.  Maybe it was a faulty test.  I decided I'd give it another day or two and test again.

  An hour or two... or three later, I started cramping.  This is pretty normal in early pregnancy, but it did have me on edge a bit.  Not long after that, the blood came... and my heart sank.  Despite my disappointment, I held it together pretty well.  I thought maybe that first test was a false positive... even though that isn't as likely as a false negative.  I distracted myself... made myself busy.

  Sunday morning I woke up with that weight pushed to the back of my head.  No time for mourning on Mother's Day.  Jeff and I were getting ready to head out and swap the boys for the girls.  They all love taking their turns at Grandpa and Grandma's house.

  I felt off.  Down. I didn't realize where that feeling was coming from at first, ironically enough.  I hopped in the shower and it all hit me like a ton of bricks.  I started sobbing.  All of those hopes, dreams, plans... all of that joy washed down the drain as I shed those tears my eyes so desperately needed to cry.

  I gave myself an internal pep talk and got dressed.  Then I cried again.  Pulled myself together, began doing my makeup... cried again.  You get the idea. Every little step I took to get ready was a challenge.  How was I going to face the day without looking like a complete basket case?

  Jeff offered to take the boys and grab the girls himself, but I didn't want to be home alone with my toddler and my tears on Mother's Day.  Today was supposed to be a joyous day.  My family was celebrating me... they were loving on me.  They were spoiling me.  I couldn't get in their way! ;)

  I put on my best fake happy face and we drove out to our regular meeting spot.  We were a bit late, as you can imagine... what with all the crying I did while trying to get ready.  I can't believe I didn't have raccoon eyes.  That in itself was a complete miracle.

  I tried to be the "me" my parents knew me to be.  I tried to not let the kids see how low I was.  I don't feel that I did a very good job at hiding my hurt, but no one said anything, so I suppose I'm a better actress than I give myself credit for!

  Later, Jeff, the girls, Wesson, and I went to the park.  I insisted.  I wanted to walk the trails.  I wanted to take my frustrations out on the pavement and gravel.  I wanted to move past this the best way I knew how.  I wanted to stop kicking myself for taking that test on Friday instead of waiting 'til Saturday.  I wanted to forget what really couldn't be forgotten.

  Some may be surprised at how devastated I was.  I surprised even myself...not so much that I was feeling the loss, but more at how deeply I felt it.  I am still having trouble with it, especially in the quiet of the night, after all of my other blessings are tucked away in their beds.

  There are many who don't become attached so early on.  I don't understand that.  I don't condemn it at all, I just don't know how they do it... part of me wishes I could figure that out myself.  I love fast and hard... and with that comes all the more hurt and heartache in situations like this.  You may think I'm too sensitive... and maybe you're right... but I do believe that grief is real... grief is agonizing... and I believe it is important to give in to the grief, at least for a time.... or it could swallow you whole when you least expect it.

  I'm sharing my story because I want to be a voice for those who feel that the world is telling them their grief or sadness is unjustified for whatever reason.  Whether my pregnancy test was a false positive... or I had a life inside me (I truly, with all of my being, believe this was the case), it was painful to lose that.

   No baby cries will pierce the air in our home next January.  No ultrasounds, diapers, cuddles, or kisses for that precious little life.  Life was here, then vanished... as if it never was.  YES.... that "clump of cells" was a life.  Don't tell me otherwise. That poppyseed of a baby was precious, valuable, worthy of love and real enough to me... and that is all that matters.

  I can't begin to wrap my mind around how devastating it must be to miscarry further into the pregnancy.  To have visible evidence of your precious child... a child that can be touched and held.... oh, my heart breaks for the mamas who have experienced such an incredible loss.

  Don't ever dismiss someone's feelings.  Don't ever tell them their grief, heartache, or pain isn't justified.... what you may think of as no big deal, might just be a damn big deal to another.  Offer your love and support to those who are hurting... whether that is just a shoulder to cry on, an ear to hear, or a simple and sweet "I'm praying for you."  You don't have to fix them.  You don't have to understand.  You just have to love that person enough to care and acknowledge that they need your support... whatever that looks like.

  Thank you for listening to my heart. I appreciate your prayers.  If you are experiencing any sort of heartache, please don't hesitate to reach out.  I would be honored to pray with you, or just listen to you share your feelings with me.  Be blessed friends, and be that blessing to your loved ones, always.

~Em

P.S.  I have only told a couple people about this.  It isn't something I feel I can share too many times.  It's still too fresh and painful right now.  So please forgive me if you're hearing this for the first time.  I hope you understand and don't take offense.  <3