A Lovely Birth Story

Hello everyone! She's here!!

Warning: Kinda, sorta, REALLY long. ;)

Apparently Tuesday was a good day to have a baby!

But barely. She arrived Tuesday night at 11:04. She was six pounds four ounces and nineteen inches long. She has light brown/blonde hair with some light blonde and red in it and really light eyebrows and lashes. So we're not too sure which way her hair will go. 

I have to tell you a little about the meaning of her name. We've liked her first name since we were pregnant with our second baby, Son. We didn't know what we were having so that was our choice if it was a girl. Then we still liked it through our third pregnancy, again a boy. And now, we still liked it when we found out that Jelly Bean was a girl!! I had looked up the meaning to the name years ago and really hadn't given it much thought again and didn't remember what it meant. Anyway, we picked her middle name based on the meaning, it means birth or born (in reference to Christ's birth) and I just loved it. In the hospital, Hubby asked me what her first name meant and I had no clue anymore, so I just looked it up again and the Greek and French origins of her name mean "bright light" or "torch." So her full name could mean a bright light or torch is born! How amazing!! God's got plans for this little one, let me tell you! ;)

So that's it. She's here. She's great. 

Huh? 

What?

You want to hear our birth story?

Well....

Okay fine. ;)

So Wednesday I posted about being up all night with contractions. They continued as I had written all day. They were every five minutes, very uncomfortable. I couldn't sleep through them, but I could still walk and talk through most of them. I was in early labor and I knew it. Around noon I started getting frustrated that there wasn't any change. I would even have ten minute breaks here and there with no contractions at all. So my friend Rachelle was so kind to come over and hang out with the kids and I. Then she pulled out her stroller, loaded up her kids and asked promptly "Ready to go for a walk?" We walked around the block a couple times and even ran a little at one point. 

I also cleaned my bathrooms, cleared out all the laundry hampers, picked out clothes for all the kids for the week, cleaned the couches and vacuumed. Just a few last minute chores to get things moving. ;)

Well things were still the exact same until around 3:30 or 4:00 when I started to notice the intensity of the contractions increasing, however not the frequency. At this point I found myself still wanting to walk and move around a lot, but had to lean on something through a contraction and couldn't really focus well to talk through them. 

Hubby had come home from work early and started to ask every 30 minutes "Time to go?" I told him I would absolutely NOT go to the hospital only to be sent home because my contractions are not consistent or frequent enough. That's what they told me with Baby and I was at 8 cm when I went BACK to the hospital a few hours later. So this time, I was not leaving until I knew I was already far along like that. So we waited.

Fed the kids. Bathed them. Read stories. Explained what was going on and that we could be taking mommy to the Doctor while they were sleeping if Jelly Bean told us it was time. Daughter was a little nervous about me being away, but really excited for her baby sister to come. Then we sat down to wait. I worked on a blanket and read a book. But then I noticed that the contractions seemed to subside a bit! It was around seven at night and I started to get frustrated again that they weren't progressing. I had already called my neighbor to be ready that night and hubby had already told his work he'd be out the next day. I started to think maybe she won't come tonight! 

Hubby suggested that I lay down and sleep since I'd been up since midnight, but I didn't want to because I just wanted to keep things going! So I paced the house. For almost an hour I walked around, stopping to lean on a chair, swaying from side to side through contractions every five minutes. Around 8:30, I was still frustrated and very tired. So I decided to just give up and lay down. I fell asleep on the couch almost immediately. About 25 minutes later, my eyes opened so fast as my whole body folded in half. My stomach tightened hard and my legs were shaking as the worst contraction yet rolled through. It lasted for two minutes and after that I knew she was coming that night. 

The contractions...ahh the contractions. 

They were excruciating, the pain was so deep, rolling through my back and my abdomen, shooting violent shakes down my legs. I couldn't hold back the large tears that came with each one, my jaw clenched tight and my face was hot with exhaustion from this pain that couldn't be escaped. 

I had been mentally preparing myself for labor for weeks. I didn't want an epidural (although I was sure I'd give in the second I walked through the hospital doors) and I knew I wanted to stay home as long as possible, even though the same plan with Baby had still led to five hours laboring in the hospital before he was born.

Every time I'd have a contraction I'd sing softly to myself "It is well" or repeat her name, reminding myself this was so minor a pain compared to the joy I'd be experiencing so soon. I'd tell myself that I was not at the limit of pain that God had designed my body to bear and I'd remember all the hours I'd spent praying for the tiny life inside me. It ended up being a really mental and sometimes even spiritual with the amount of prayers I was sending up, battle. Sometimes I'd think "If I were at the hospital, I could already have an epidural and be sleeping through most of this." But I'd remind myself that my body was designed to endure this and if Jesus could experience the suffering He had for us, I could surely endure this labor to welcome our baby into this life. 

We decided to wait about an hour before going to the hospital, about the same as what we'd done with Baby. I had about seven more contractions, but the last three were almost back to back. We called our neighbor, checked on the kids and we were off by 10:15. We got to the hospital and signed in at admitting by 10:30. We were sent up to labor and delivery and taken to a room. I was having contractions every 1-2 minutes, each one lasting two minutes. I was crying and moaning and groaning, gritting my teeth, and often times thinking that I just needed to calm down. I changed into the open backed hospital gown and got into bed and they checked me immediately. It was 10:42. I was dilated to seven, although they said it was hard to tell exactly because my water bag was bulging (remember the high fluid numbers?). The baby's head was no longer on my cervix (it was the day and week before, causing a lot of pressure), but was being pushed up because the bag of waters was bulging down. That explains why everything felt so slow progressing all day...it was moving along nicely, but I wasn't feeling that intense pressure normally felt during active labor. So they laid me on my side to try to relieve some of the bulging and then left to start a chart and get an IV going. They asked if I wanted an epidural and I said I did if they thought they could get it in time, because by this point all of my self control was gone and I just wanted to sleep. I kept saying "I'm so tired...I'm so so tired!"

As soon as all the nurses had left the room, I felt a pop and then warm fluid rushed all over the bed, down my legs. There was so much fluid it just kept pouring out. Hubby went to the hall to tell the nurse and as soon as all the fluid had stopped, I immediately felt the most overwhelming and painful pressure right at my cervix. It felt as if a bowling ball slammed against my cervix out of nowhere. I literally felt like bones were crushing and pulling apart at the same time. I looked at the clock right when my water broke. It was 10:55pm.

The nurses were telling me to relax and not to push at all because we were waiting for the Doctor. I kept saying I was sorry and that I was trying and I kept telling them I wasn't pushing. It felt like something was inside me (well, duh) pushing the baby. My main nurse looked at me and said that if she had to deliver the baby, everything would be fine and that she'd done it numerous times before. I just nodded and didn't take the time to explain that I wasn't really concerned with who was delivering my baby, I just didn't want her to end up on the floor. I felt the nurse pushing back on the baby's head and I knew she was holding her head inside as she was talking to me. A minute later she said "Okay, head's out!" 

I was surprised because I had been trying so very hard not to push, to hold her inside. But at the same time I wasn't surprised at all because I had felt her head pushing despite all my best efforts. The nurse told me to push one time, I did and Jelly Bean was born. I remember looking at Hubby's face and laughing because he was so excited, nervous, surprised and shocked at the whole situation. Bean's time of birth was 11:04, exactly 22 minutes after I climbed onto that hospital bed and 34 minutes after we arrived at the hospital. Everything happened so fast, so different than the other kids...so unexpected. 

The Doctor didn't make it for delivery. He arrived 20 minutes after birth. Our friend and photographer, who I had planned to be there for a little bit before the birth as well, arrived about three minutes after the birth. 

**By the way, thank you so much Sarah for being a part of this day, this incredibly special time with our family and for capturing such perfect moments. And if you haven't thought about or decided to have your birth photographed professionally, I would HIGHLY recommend it. I wish I would have done it with all my kids...the pictures are just priceless**

I didn't have an IV hooked up. There was no time to start any of my paperwork, the nurses didn't even have time to break down the bed. The monitors only had about two minutes of contractions and heart rates recorded. It was a blur, but it was an incredible, wonderful blur.

Seeing her sweet, tiny little face with her paper thin ears and cheeks covered in peach fuzz was overwhelming, to say the least. She's my fourth baby, so I knew this was coming, but it never tires. The wonder is never worn, the magic is never old. The mystery of birth and life is revealed new each time and each time I whisper to myself how I cannot imagine not having done this one more time. 

I marvel that Jesus actually knit her together...pieced her precious little self tiny bit by tiny bit, deep in my body. At the same time, He also nurtured a seed of love planted deep in my soul. All her soft little flutters, every time I heard her strong heart beat, every thought of her that passed through my mind were all orchestrated together to create a love that was exploding long before I held her fragile hands, touching each slender finger. 

I could go on and on describing the moment, the experience, the feelings and mostly, the baby. My child. My youngest child. 

But really, it is summed up so perfectly in such an ordinary way. I needn't do all this blabbering. Just look at her. Just know that Jesus designed her and allowed us to meet her, to hold her, to know her, to love her. I don't need to say much...she tells the story in her soft little noises that sound like a kitten, her sweet baby smell, the velvety smoothness of her skin.

I really can't say anything to do her...Jesus' handiwork justice.

So I'll just leave it at this...the two words that run through my mind all the time.

She's Lovely.

Broken and Sacrificed

The last few weeks of my life, hmm...I take that back, perhaps the last couple months, have truly been a whirlwind of emotions. Some of the reasons I feel quite validated being emotional over and some of the others I feel that I just need a good slap across the face. Nonetheless, the emotions, both good and bad, have definitely been there. 
I have been trying to get back to the roots of who I am...really trying to become the person I love. Honestly, as silly as it sounds, blogging has been a big part of this effort. I love to write and it is such an effortless and natural way for me to communicate and express myself. I started exercising again when Son was about six months old, but I wasn't exceptionally dedicated. After watching this season's Biggest Loser, I have really been feeling the tug to get up and get serious about my health. I know that my children look to me to be the example for them and how they should live their lives, and I want to make all the best choices possible. So, inspired by the Biggest Loser, I started trying to figure out an affordable and motivating way to get moving. Right around the same time, a couple friends mentioned the Disney half-marathon that they were participating in. After reading about it, I realized that the fees are a little out of my league this time around, especially considering that I am really not a seasoned runner and don't want to put so much $$ into it before I feel it is really "my thing." However, I am training with a couple friends who are doing it, and I am going to try my best to keep up and get in tip top shape! Woo hoo! I have already felt a surge of energy and just been in a better mood this week after only running three times! So I do feel really excited about that!
We have also started to go to church again. This was a huge burden on my heart. We were going pretty regularly until we moved in September. Our old churches were further than we wanted to drive and somehow, every Sunday there seemed to be a new excuse why we couldn't go. Well, this last Sunday, we finally stopped making excuses and went to church. We went to one that wasn't our top choice, but the service turned out to be great and the kids really enjoyed themselves. It was so exciting to see Daughter come out of her class and show me the craft she made and tell me all about what she did. Her age is so incredible right now; she is changing and growing up, literally right in front of my eyes. It is overwhelming!
So there you have it...life has been throwing quite a few curve balls lately and God has been teaching me to lean on Him and find the lesson through it all. I have learned to not only pray that God would reveal the lesson He wants me to learn, but to also show me how to use it. I have learned about envy, gossip and greed and how they can be poison to surrounding people and relationships. Through these situations I am learning to use those lessons to be a better person and to be the friend to others that I want in my life. 
Through blogging I have learned to be transparent and how much it is appreciated when you are honest and truthful about who you are; people are grateful to see that everyone else is having a bad hair day, has naughty children sometimes, or just wants to cry (or scream). It is a protective wall that we sometimes put up - but it is not our real lives. We do not bake cookies and make crafts every day and our children are not always smiling with pressed clothes and matching shoes. I think we all need to see the reality that is life and learn that it is nothing to be shameful of; it is an honesty than can help us lean on one another and learn from each other.
When I first was reading about the half marathon, I was disappointed that we wouldn't be able to afford the registration fee. I thought "I want a goal, a purpose; something to work towards, attain and complete." I felt pangs of jealousy and had to argue them back down. I was driving, running errands, and thinking about this, when I literally heard God tell me 
"Hush, you have a goal...reach it."
I knew right there that God wanted me to focus the devotion that I had building for the race on Him. I am already running a race and He desires that I am looking only to Him for purpose. Wow...I couldn't believe that I had let this disappointed feeling consume my heart, even for just the short time it did. I realized that it had taken my eyes away from my Lord, and that was unpleasing. I asked God to help guide me back to my path, to my race, and to help me run it with fervor and pride. I have His name on my chest and I will hold my head high and run for Him. My race right now is to focus on becoming the beacon that He created me to be. So now, when I run in the mornings with the girls (and my hollering young children), I am trying to focus on Jesus. I have been humming hymns and worship songs, admiring the splendor of the early morning, and praying for God to push me to the end. No really, that prayer is often overtaking the humming. And it is fair to say that the prayer has very quickly become a desperate plea for help or an ambulance. ;o) Still, it has been glorious. 
And my final lesson could very well be that slap across the face that I spoke of earlier. In church on Sunday, the Pastor read from Numbers 11. We went through the whole chapter, and let me tell you, if anyone ever says God has no sense of humor, this is the chapter to share. Anyway, for me, the entire impact of the chapter was summed up in the very first verse: Numbers 11:1 Now when the people complained, it displeased the Lord; for the Lord heard it and His anger was aroused. 
Wow, I always thought it was just a pet peeve of parents! But no, our complaining is displeasing to and angers the Lord! Just sit on that for a minute. Pastor Gary went on to explain quite a few points, one of which was that when we are discontent and complaining, it is a sign that we are far from God. Honestly, my eyes got a little misty when he said that. I have been complaining a lot lately, about anything and everything! I don't mean to and I really don't consider myself much of a complainer, which proved to me even more that it really is a sign of distance from the Lord. And doesn't that just make perfect sense? If God created us the way we are, down to our very fiber and number of hairs on our head, if He carefully chose and placed us in each situation in our lives and thoughtfully set us on the path He desired for us, how insulting and inconsiderate is it for us to be discontent with His decisions? 
That is really us questioning the Creator of the Universe, the Son of God, our Comforter, Advocate, our Faithful and True Deliverer, our King of Kings, Morning Star and Master. Our feelings of discontent are us being discontent with our Heavenly Father, the only One who has never had any other interest than our eternity and well-being in mind! How can we be discontent?? 
Pastor Gary challenged us to go one day without complaining about anything. Kenny and I are starting tomorrow. ;o) We said that yesterday and the day before, each day trying and failing. How wonderful that even with our discontentment, and even though I may drift, my Savior is still right where He has and will always be. Waiting for me with his arms wide open to hold me and accept me as I am and to help me be a better beacon for Him.
The past couple months have been filled with so many less than pleasant circumstances. The past couple months have broken me in so many ways. However, the Lord had lifted me up on His shoulders and is teaching me to give my life as a sacrifice. I did that when I was younger, and now I am learning to remit control to the One who deserves it all. I have been broken and sacrificed.

Exhausted

We've all felt it; those sandpaper eyes, body aching, clumsy stepping, nonsense mumbling feeling that encompasses being exhausted. We've all stayed up too late for whatever reason, pushing ourselves too hard our just enjoying life too much; we've had days that just drained every last ounce of energy from our veins or we've had situations that leeched the life from us and left us so weary we wondered if we could pick ourselves back up again. We've all been completely and utterly exhausted.

When I was in high school I would often stay up working on projects I had saved for the night before, frantically searching for images of the solar system to paste to my poster board and staring at a computer screen so long my retinas were temporarily seared. I also stayed up on the weekends to spend the night at girlfriends' houses, talking long into the night about that hunk of a football player all the girls were after, analyzing every word of every song Three Doors Down ever made, and flipping through issue upon issue of Seventeen to find the perfect prom dress or find out if my crush liked me based on my definitive answers to the randomly selected multiple choice questions.

In college things didn't get much better. I would stay up again for projects I had procrastinated, however these were often much longer, much more detailed and much more important, only adding to the pressure I felt to greet the sun with my ninth cup of coffee. Speaking of coffee, I also worked at a coffee shop and had to be there by four in the morning, leaving very little time to sleep anyway. When I wasn't staying up all night and day working and going to school, I was spending time with friends, going to midnight movie premiers or 3 am trips to the beach. Sleep was a convenience, and I wasn't looking for convenience.

Then on to motherhood. Ahem, pregnancy rang in this bell. I had no sooner started to finally have people ask me when I was expecting my little bundle when my little bundle became more like a hippopotamus in my bed! I couldn't get out of my own way! I took up too much room and therefore, there wasn't enough room for me; even if I tried to roll over, somehow sweet little bundle of hippo got there first making it impossible to sleep comfortably if at all. Then the bundle became a gorgeous little baby. A beautiful, screaming, eating, pooping, burping, clinging, frantic, little baby. I thought I would be fine considering all the all-nighters I had pulled in my life, but I was definitely shocked when faced with the reality of how very little babies sleep. Sleeping like a baby??? Qué??!

I told myself that toddlers sleep through the night so as soon as I hit that point, I'm home free! My hopes were dashed last night (among others) when Daughter woke up at 4 am insisting that she needed to wear a princess dress and princess shoes and make sure it was still dark outside before going back to sleep. Ehhh.

So you would think exhaustion wouldn't be an issue for me, and for the most part, I deal with physical exhaustion well, with the exception of the times it really catches up to me and slaps me across the face.

However, I am having a hard time adjusting to a different type of exhaustion. I have learned that emotional and mental exhaustion is a territory that is uncharted and unforgiving. And I am so exhausted inside.

I am tired of trying to everything to everyone. I am exhausted from trying to fulfill everyone's needs, to please everyone around me, to be who everyone wants or needs me to be. I find myself constantly pushing aside what is truly important to me; what I truly need, what I want, what is good for myself and for my family in order to please people around me or be there for them. I'm not talking about having an issue with being what my family needs me to be (although wonder woman is a rather intimidating role) or being there to help out close friends when they need someone or something. I love to have people in my life and I love to show them how special and valuable they are to me.

I am talking about just trying to meet "peoples'" expectations, their standards. I am talking about the times when I find myself feeling down, guilty or apologizing for qualities, traits and interests that make me who I am. These things make me the person that people like or dislike. I am exhausted by trying to make sure everyone likes me; and I don't do this because I feel that I need that huge of a network (I have Verizon anyway, so I apparently don't need very many more people), but because there is some fiber in my being, something wired into my makeup that makes me loathe disappointing people. Anyone. I shudder when I know that I've disappointed my Father and thinking about the many more times in my life when I will. I hate disappointing my family, of course. I hate disappointing my friends. I hate disappointing my boss at work, which is weird, because I really am not the biggest fan anyway, so you would think I wouldn't mind. But I do! I hate disappointing those people in the mall that try to curl/straighten your hair or put some insanely magical lotion on your hands. I hate disappointing the drive-thru people when they ask me to upsize my meal so that I can leave with 186 oz of ice tea instead of the standard 24 oz. I hate when people disagree with me because I am afraid they are disappointed in me. I even find myself apologizing to the man in the car that just cut me off so badly I had to slam on my brakes and there is now a four car pile-up behind me and I am pulled off in the ditch. Really, I wave sorry before I even think about using the horn. Why am I like this??

I don't know the answer to that, but I have been learning a lot of lessons lately. I have been learning that I am who I am. It sounds so simple, but it really is a hard thing for me to wrap my brain around. I have learned that when I let other people tell me who I should be or steer me down a path I have not chosen for myself, that I am really showing very little respect and pride for myself. We cannot look to the people around us as mirrors because they are clouded. The only true reflection we should look to is our Father, for His mirror is clear and clean. He not only shows us exactly who we are, which is who He created us to be, but He teaches us to love and accept ourselves that way. And if we are constantly beating ourselves up or trying to change or apologizing for who we are then we are insulting our maker.

Of course, we are not the same person we were the day we were born, the day we graduated or even the person we were one year ago. We naturally change with the different influences and experiences that are put in out lives. However, we can change gracefully and positively if we are keeping our compass focused on Him. I think change is a wonderful thing that we all need to accept and embrace; as long as we are not changing our hard-wired makeup: our values, morals and standards for ourselves, we should be walking into new days and experiences with our heads held high, knowing that through life we are molded into the best possible person we can be. I am slowly but surely learning to accept that and love it.

I am tired of being exhausted because I am draining myself trying to be what everyone else hopes and wants me to be. I need to be who and what I am for myself and my family. I will learn to accept this with pride and joy and not apologize for who I am. We are "fearfully and wonderfully made...I know that full well." David shows us this lesson in Psalm 139:14. I think that if I take this lesson and make it my own, I will draw people to me who genuinely love me for me. People who will never dream of making me feel badly for the person I am or the things I like or how I am; but people who will love me for that. These people are the ones that deserve special places in your life; they will receive and welcome the differences and similarities and respect you for being true to yourself. 

I am proud of who God has made me and although I know that He will continue to change and mold me as I continue down this journey, I can rest (and stop being exhausted) knowing that I am who He made me to be. Not only is this an important lesson for me to hold near but it is an important lesson for me to live boldly and teach my children as well.

My Desire

My desire as a mother and wife is to be there uncompromisingly for my family; to guide them and help us to live a life that is worthy and pleasing to God. For a while now I have been struggling to find a church to call home. I just want to find a simple and small church filled with people who are all striving towards the same thing; people who are uplifting and encouraging to one another; I am looking for a church that is a family. I do not like the constant push of "business" in the church, I am turned off by plasma screens, fancy instruments, crazy light shows, comedy routines, and offers to text me the message should I not feel like going one Sunday. I understand diversity and variety and keeping things fresh and new, but I feel like there is a deep simplicity to the message that God wants us to hear. Plasmas and texting don't do anything for our hearts; only God's message of His undying love for us and everything He desires for us can really reach our hearts. At least, that's what I believe. So while I hunt for a church that isn't selling me anything or enticing people to come with Starbucks before service (whatever happened to donated lemonade and donuts or women bringing coffee and cider to share?) I have been spending a lot of time at home reading the Bible, various devotionals and books and listening to worship music; I have been teaching Daughter little Bible stories and doing crafts to simulate Sunday School. It has been lovely; if only we had a little white steeple!! But anyway, I came across this song which I have heard a lot and always liked but really sat down and listened to the words. It etched something special into my heart and I just thought that I would share the lyrics for those that have not heard them yet. It makes me truly ponder if I am making myself available to be used by God. It makes me pray fervently for Him to show me His purpose for my life. How does He want to use me? Am I putting blinders on in order to fill my own agenda or am I waking up each morning and before my feet even hit the floor, begging Him to show me how He can use me that day? I hope that is my true desire and I pray that He fulfills that desire within. :o)

Jeremy Camp My DesireYou want to be real, you want to be empty inside
You want to be someone laying down your pride
You want to be someone someday
Then lay it all down before the king
You want to be whole, you want to have purpose inside
You want to have virtue and purify your mind
You want to be set free today
Then lay it all down before the king
This is my desire, this is my return
This is my desire to be used by you
You want to be real, you want to be empty inside
And I know my heart is to feel you near
And I know my life
It's to do your will
It's to do your will
All my life I have seen
Where you've take me
Beyond all I have hoped
And there's more left unseen
There's not much I can do to repay all you've done
So I give my hands to use

Money Miracle

Note: this is another re-run from my old blog. I'm copying over a few to this blog, ones that I'd like all together in the same book when I print. Anywho...if you don't want to re-read it, move right along. ;)


I am bothered. Very bothered. So bothered that I was in bed awake just thinking thinking thinking about how bothered I am. What other choice did I have than to get out of bed and blog about being bothered? ;o)

I opened someones mail today by accident. It was addressed to a woman who apparently used to live at our address but her name starts with a D and is about the same number of letters, so when I just glanced through the mail I thought it was mine and I opened it. No, I am not bothered by the guilt I feel for opening her mail, even though I have heard that is a federal crime...oops. I am bothered by the letter I read inside.

It was one of those letters from a ministry that basically is telling you to have faith and give a financial gift to the ministry so that God may bless you abundantly in turn (besides the deception factor, it was written very poorly and that tends to irritate me also). Here is the first line of this letter:

"I know God is doing something right now that will drive back the forces of darkness and bring unprecedented breakthrough in your life as you make your stand on this prophetic word of God to you.. God is about to give you some MONEY MIRACLE!"

At this point, my eyebrows were quite furrowed and I found myself gripping the little Monopoly money dollar that was in the envelope so tightly it was tearing.

I read on, fascinated and shocked that someone could possibly believe this and then I continue to read, just out of pure outrage. After many more lines claiming that this minister was praying and felt so connected to this woman, he went on to say the following:

"I believe that you are becoming a money magnet! You MUST release your faith in this word. (Jesus spoke this to you) Now I'm speaking to you, and you must obey to receive this blessing. The Bible says Faith without works is dead. This is what you must do"

The instructions tell the woman to take the monopoly money and put it in her wallet for one night only. He tells her it is an anointed replica dollar bill. He says first thing in the morning she needs to send the dollar bill back to him with a seed of faith. What seed of faith?? The next paragraph explains that. He says to send twenty-nine, fifty-nine or ninety-nine dollars with the bill as her seed of faith and tells her to "believe God for the flow of harvest in your life." He will then sign the fake, but anointed, bill and send it back to her, so that she may keep it in her wallet as a reminder of the flow of "MIRACLE MONEY" coming into her life. He goes on to say a couple more lines of religious guilt trip and gives a couple of very vague examples of people who have sown their seeds and received miracle money in return. One homeless lady for example, got a job. Miraculous.

I have seen these things before on TV, the Internet and even in the mail. I don't know why it bothered me so much today. I am always irritated when I feel that church or ministry has become more of a business than a place of teaching, love and fellowship. But for some reason today, the letter really got to me!

At first I was so angry! You would have thought I was the one being deceived! I just couldn't believe that whoever this man was with his name as the title of his ministry could think so highly of himself and so little of his Maker to be okay with deceiving God's children. How dare he send out these letters with verses and "direct quotes" from God making people feel guilty and that they have no other option than to sow these seeds of faith! How dare he insult peoples' intelligence that a fake dollar bill would be anointed and bring prosperity if and only if they send money to him first! How dare he speak for our Jesus, claiming some type of exalted place right beside Him! I was outraged! I showed Hubby and we talked about how wrong and manipulative it was and wondered what God thought or would say to people like this.

Then I grew saddened; my heart ached for the many people that fall victim to these lies. The people who are desperate to find an answer to the hard questions in life; the parents struggling to put food on the table for their children, willing to try anything and not wanting to abandon "faith." How many people have been deceived and stolen from? How many people have sowed repeated seeds of faith to ministries like this one and prayed for this money miracle? How many people have traveled miles and miles and miles to be anointed by this man and others, to be prayed over and chanted to? How many times have they been convinced that with a little more faith, God will answer their prayers? How many dollars have been wasted, not sent to further God's kingdom, but to further a few men's riches? Has no one told them that they don't need to travel to see God? That God doesn't need our money? Has no one told them that Satan is the master of deceit and will stop at nothing to make us falter and trick us?

God lives within us, we just have to open our hearts and receive what He offers! It is a gift, it is not for sale! God wants to bless us abundantly because He loves us, not for the right price! He wants us to commit our lives to spreading His Word, and often times that does cost money, however, God expects nothing but our love and our faith in HIM! If we have money to give for a true ministry, we should be expecting nothing back, but knowing that He will bless us in ways we cannot imagine. We have already been given the ultimate gift- a chance at eternal life with our Lord! These false teachers are selling God and promising riches and financial prosperity in return! This is not what God teaches us, this is sad.

I have now added these people to my prayer list; the false teachers and people that are a part of these ministries, these businesses. Mostly though, I have started to pray for the people receiving these letters. The lost, hurt and vulnerable people who are deceived by these false claims of hope, wealth and happiness. I wish I could tell them all to keep their $29, $59, or $99 dollars. I wish I could tell them that if they want to sow seeds of faith, it is a matter of their heart not their checkbook. All we need to do is listen to God's tug on our hearts. Perhaps it is to help the elderly lady parked beside us to put her groceries away, or to volunteer at our church, or to help at the community center. It could be to check on our neighbors, let them know we are there when they need us; it could be teaching our children to be kind and gentle, it could be getting a sandwich for the homeless man on the corner. And it could very well be writing out a check for our tithe, or to send to help a legitimate organization feed hungry kids. Sometimes money is involved, but it is not always and it is not the key factor. There are so many things that we can do that do not involve money, just our willingness, time, compassion. Love is the bottom line. Now more than ever, we need each other. We need helping hands, watchful eyes, and loving and open hearts.

Yearning

I've been feeling.
A lot lately.
Happy, sad, lonely, empty, full, busy, bored, thankful, ungrateful, satisfied, yearning. I've been feeling the full range of emotions lately. I'm not pregnant and these feelings have been consistent with and without visits from "womanhood." So I cannot blame it on hormones. Well, I suppose I could, but I know that's not (entirely) true.
The one feeling that has plagued me most is this aching. A longing. The pit of my stomach, the depths of my soul. My heart, every fiber of my being. We are yearning. I am yearning.
I have been exploring fullness and living a full life. The full life as God defines it. And while I have been experiencing incredible times of complete joy and gratitude in what I have and who I am, I am more often than not longing, yearning, hungry for more.
I need more. More gratitude. More basic simplicity to fulfill me. More of Him. My cup is not overflowing. I need it overflowing, spilling over. I am searching fervently for depth.
In everything. Relationships. Peace. Comfort. Guidance.
Conversations. Prayers.
I want my life to be filled with purpose. The things I do, the things I say. Purpose driven. God driven.
I need more in these things. More depth. Deeper roots.
I want to be taken beyond what the world sees. I want to see more. To see farther. To see deeper.
I want to feel more. Be more. Do more.
Deeper.
Yearning.
Longing.
Insatiable hunger.
My prayer is that God gives me these things, that He takes me deeper in my relationship with Him. That He weeds out the shallow, trivial things I spend my time on. The things that just keep leaving my cup dry. I pray that He fills that space with Him, and things that are of Him.
I need it.
I want it.
I crave it.
More of YOU God. You are deeper than my understanding.
Less of me. I am shallow, and my vision is blurred.
Clear my eyes, help me to see what YOU see. To love what you love. Break my heart for what breaks yours. Help me to seek what you seek. To want what you want.
Help me go deeper.
I am hungry.
I am empty.
I am yearning.

Break My Heart

The lyrics to this song have really been speaking to me this week, or rather God is speaking to me through them. I often find myself praying that He would help me to see things through His eyes rather than my own, but now I am pleading that He would change my heart, mold it. I want my heart to break for the things that break His. Everything I have for YOUR kingdom, Lord.  Help me have selfless faith.