Skip to main content

September

 There’s this darkness trying to overshadow God’s divine plan for me as a parent. In the last five days the enemy has put up road blocks meant to destroy my faith. He allowed a conservative group’s policy to tell me my pregnancies were not necessary but “still valuable.” My heart sunk into my feet as my testimony was challenged. Yet, I got up, dusted off my lap and moved forward with the truth and chose to  let the light shine on it. 

In the same week I was told by someone I value that  I was  just not competent  … not able… to do something significant. I got defensive, but inside I believed it was true to the core. I had to wrestle the devil head on with that one. The grip on me was penetrating. 
Tonight my heart just aches as a parent because I feel like such a failure… staying true to our foundations is so painfully awkward and almost embarrassing. The enemy got in my head again… whispering how dare I teach women how to parent each week when I have no idea what I’m doing. He told me a long list of lies about my future as a parent. Fears settled into my stomach and twisted it until I cried. Oh, how easy it would be to just give up on all of it.  I am tempted…
September has a history of darkness for me. The hardest moments of my life happened in September, including the day I was told pregnancy was not likely for me. That, of course, was a lie. It was the month I nearly took the devil’s advice to stop existing- even though I had four small children. That was a trick to divert God’s plan for me. 
I’m currently  reading a book where the author reminds the reader to hold the sword and the shield at the same time… not one without the other. The sword is the Word, the shield is Faith. I’m in the beginning of a new chapter of my life that will give testimony to the previous chapters… my journey to becoming a parent, to surviving all the attacks of the enemy . 
The devil is stinking mad. So. Stinking mad. 
And like every September and all of the other 11 months, his tantrums will not matter. Each trial has given me more testimony to share the goodness of God. 
He likes to tell me my words fall on deaf ears and blind eyes. He likes to tell me what people think of me when they read what I share. 
There’s something greater in me that prompts me to push forward anyway. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Setting Up Camp

 There's that overly used saying, "It takes a village." Well, as I navigate raising three 17 -year-olds and an almost-20 year-old in college, the village is more like a small camp. I'm not talking cult-like camps. I'm talking a small gathering of tents with occupants who sit by the fire and listen and pray. This is not literal. I don't like to camp. (Camp fire smell in my hair. Ew.) This is just the terminology with which I came up.  Teenagers don't like anyone in their business. Especially mom and dad. If you're fortunate, they will invite you into their business because they know you will pray for them. They also hope you will give them direction. And they often want you to tell them everything will go just the way they want it and you will also tell them to do what they want to do even if they know it is not what they should do. Did you follow that trail through the woods? I have teenage girls. Three of the four of them are rather forthcoming with w...

Barbie's single, but my girls are "married"

The girls are just overwhelmingly growing up. I know that sounds odd...but at 3 years old these triplets seem to be leaping into childhood's next level. Don't get me wrong -- they still return to the two-year-old moments of "Mine!" and "Noooooo!" However, they are growing. It is sometimes scary to me. I'm being completely honest. Our conversations are more intense. They ask all kinds of questions. They communicate with each other in such a grown up way...my husband said the other night "I was listening to (Tiny) and (FunnyGirl) talking to each other and though 'Wow. They are talking really well and they're having real conversations." Even their playtime is maturing. Instead of running with baby dolls and throwing them on the floor, they now understand the concept of nurturing them -- Tiny was always doing this, but now they each place the babies in a bed, neatly cover them, "calm" them, and insist that everyone in the room ...

Moving on: Hauling the hurts in your U-haul

  There are many joys in motherhood just as there are hurts.  When we are in the thick of it, I think we tend to dwell in the latter.  For longer than I care to admit, the hurt has not come  from my own family. I tend to dwell on hurts from those who are no longer in our lives but choose to whisper about us in huddles. It hurts. Whether it is about one of my daughters. My husband. And sometimes even if it is about me.  It hurts. It especially hurts when it is those in the Christian community. We can "Matthew 18:15-20" until we are blue in the face. Sometimes, it just continues.... It's been about two years of hearing from others how the name of someone or all of us in my household has been dragged through the mud because of misunderstanding. Only one side of a story is often told. And that is the story that has wings.    We made attempts at reconciliation in all incidents. Our family is not perfect. We each had our moments of not handling matters grace...