When You Want to Give Up

It has been a year today since my dad had his stroke. Dad isn't 100% like we thought he would be last year....like we prayed so hard for him to become, and it hurts to say that. For those of you who have gotten to experience strokes first hand, you know how it changes a person. Some miraculously see no change, but for others, you lose a part of who you are, who you used to be, and you lose a part of your future. It can be a really disheartening change to your life.

The vision I get of my dad is a dad who lifted me up by the elbows when I was little girl, a dad who would swing me around and let me pile up on his lap, a dad who would get in the floor and wrestle with us after supper, a dad who worked with his hands, swam in the pool, and drove a truck for years. No, things weren't always easy, but I like to think on the good. I will never forget this dad; however, the devil tries to make me forget.

Five days after I had Caroline, I got a text message early that morning. I obviously wasn't sleeping much, so I remember looking at the phone for a second trying to figure out what indeed was going on. I was standing beside the bed, and I just remember my heart sinking. My dad was in a helicopter being rushed to UAB. I don't know what happened next. I don't even remember telling Heath. I just remember praying and thinking everything was going to be alright. Even as I saw my dad in the hospital bed later that evening, slurred speech, incapable of using his left side, my heart was still absent of fear. I did not doubt for a second that Dad would survive it, that he would be okay. I couldn't; I didn't have the strength. I refused to think the worst.

My mom and dad were away at rehab for almost two months, and I was incredibly selfish. I needed their help. I needed them to be there for me with the new baby, and it frustrated me that I couldn't be there for them in their time of need. I just kept believing that Dad was going to walk out of that building whole just like he had always been. I didn't want to think about the possibility of him not being the same, but as the months kept following each other, and I kept seeing that this stroke wasn't leaving my dad, I got scared. It started bothering me. I started letting it get to me. I started questioning God. I started losing my focus.

The devil tries to make me think that God isn't God sometimes, and that He still isn't the God of miracles. He reminds me that it has been a year and that Dad has only held Caroline with both arms just a few times in her life. He reminds me of the little things you wouldn't normally think about like washing your hands or playing peek-a-boo. He reminds me of a lot of things that I don't want to think about. He wants us to blame ourselves for the bad things that happen to us. He also wants us to blame God.

None of this surprises God. Did God cause it? No. Did He allow it? Yes. Will I ever understand why? No. Well, maybe. Even though the stroke didn't happen to me, it did. It happened to me. It changed my life, and it changed my mom's life, my family's life. It changed how my dad perceives the world, and it created a new level of strength that we all have to cling to each day. It fulfilled any loopholes or gaps in our faith. It closed up any loose ends we might have had in regards to what we take for granted. I view his stroke in a good and bad way because although I hate his stroke for changing him, it did make my mom and dad better. I've never been more proud of my dad than I am today. I know he tries to stay strong for us, and I know he has his weak moments, but I'm so proud of how he has been clinging to the Lord, choosing joy, and relying on a miracle of healing even now...a year later. Ten years ago, I couldn't say that. And mom, who has lost her dad, her sister, and has gone on countless journeys with me and my brother, has become one of the strongest women I know.

Because of Sin We Have Grace

I talked with my Sunday school kids recently about how we as humans constantly chase a state of control, bliss, and perfection. We wholeheartedly think it's achievable. We naively think it's possible. We base our whole lives with the expectation that we are going to be happy, and that everything is going to go smoothly, but when something goes wrong, we search and search for a way to get back to that state of bliss. Most of the time, we're searching in all the wrong places. We think we deserve it. We think that since we're Christians or that we're good people, good things should naturally come to us, but the Bible says in Ecclesiastes 7:20 and Romans 3:23 that no one goes without sin, and since the fall of man and sin's introduction into this world, the perils of life are going to attack us. But there's hope in this.

Because of the creation of sin (or sin's aftermath: death, disease, destruction, pain, and suffering), God's glory can be seen. From the fall of man we have sin, pain, and heartache, but because it exists, God's majesty is made manifest. I read a beautiful, anonymous quote the other day:

"Sin doesn't slam the door on God's blessings; it opens the gate for his grace."

How true is this? When we're floating through life thinking it's all about us, how wrong we are!

Let me introduce you to a man from the Bible. He was born in a barn and clothed in rags. He was persecuted for helping people. He had temptations and emotions. He was a real human being who never got the fame and fortune he deserved while He lived. He was beaten and murdered in a slow, painful way. His killers tried to take away his dignity. They mocked him and made fun of him.

Sound familiar?

Was Jesus' life easy? Was He a king who lounged on cushions all day, ate the best food, wore cloth of gold, or wore a crown of jewels? Did he make millions or publish twenty books? Did he have three degrees? Did he live in a castle?

Why then must we think our lives should ever be any better than Jesus's? Why must we be surprised when we go through hardships, tests, temptations, or spiritual persecution? Why do we think we can't be tested if Jesus himself was tempted by the devil himself? Why do we think we can go without needing God if Jesus himself had to pray?

Contemplating on the life of Jesus has brought me a lot of strength lately, and I hope you can find strength through him today, too.

I know there are a lot of you battling with something today, or maybe you're simply waiting on a miracle from God like I am with my dad. I don't know if it's because my son's name being Isaac that I love the story of Abraham so much, but if you ever need an illustration on faith, Abraham is your man. Most of you know the story. In Genesis 22 God commands Abraham to slay his son as a sacrifice in the land of Moriah. I'm assuming this was a long journey because it says on the third day that he found the place in which he was to use as the place for sacrifice.

"And they came to the place which God had told him of; and Abraham built an altar there, and laid the wood in order, and bound Isaac his son, and laid him on the altar upon the wood. And Abraham stretched forth his hand, and took the knife to slay his son. And the angel of the Lord called unto him out of heaven, and said, Abraham, Abraham: and he said, Here am I. And he said, Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou any thing unto him: for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me. And Abraham lifted up his eyes, and looked, and behold behind him a ram caught in a thicket by his horns: and Abraham went and took the ram, and offered him up for a burnt offering in the stead of his son. (Genesis 22:9-13)

Can you imagine contemplating on this for three days after God had previously told you that you would have a son (at his old age), and that he would be the father of many nations? Can you imagine his confusion, his fear? Can you imagine having to go through something like this with your child? Would we have trusted God like Abraham did?

I believe that this story is for all of us today, all of us struggling with life and the way it has played its devilish hand in our families. I believe that this story illustrates that NOTHING IS TOO BIG for God to take care of. We shouldn't be surprised when we go through a difficult situation, but we should never doubt what God can do with it.

Dad is different, sure. But I'm proud of who he is and how he has handled this situation. I'm proud of how he has used his circumstances to glorify the Lord. I know it is hard for him, but I'm proud of how he sees his blessings more vividly now. We all need a dose of this.

Ladies, I hope and pray that you will work alongside me this week by waiting, praying, expecting, and trusting for our rams in the thicket. I love this verse: "There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it." 1 Corinthians 10:13 

God knows what we're going through today. I'm praying for a miracle for my Dad, and I hope you will begin to pray with me for your miracle that you're hoping and praying for, too 

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When You Want to Give Up

One Day, You'll See: A Letter to My Little Girl on Mother's Day

Caroline,

I'm blessed to call you mine. Your presence completes our family. Before you got here, our lives weren't near as enriched as they are now. Your smile, each laugh, each new word...I feel like each and every single thing you do is a gift from God, and I'm soaking it up because I know this stage is short lived. You'll begin to develop your own little personality soon enough, and we will have our moments. Just wait. You'll see.

But for now, I'm the person you love the most. I am there to pick you up when you bump your head and kiss away your tears. I am there to teach you how to take your first steps and to make you laugh with all your might. I am there to rock you to sleep and comfort you when you're scared. I'm there to feed you your first foods and get you ready for the day.

But one day, things will change. One day, you'll see.

One day, I won't know everything anymore. I won't always be the answer to your every need. I won't be the first person you want to tell your secrets to. My jokes won't be funny anymore. One day, you'll search for your independence in the strangest of ways. One day, we might not understand each other too well. One day, you might shut me out. One day, you won't need me as much. You'll see.

One day, you'll say, "I'm ok," while you slip to the bathroom to cry. One day you will let go of my hand, and give it to someone else. One day you won't need me to help you get to sleep, and you won't ever admit that you're scared or lonely. One day, you might question everything you know, and your friends will give you more advice than you allow me to. You'll even start to question what a real friend is. We'll probably fuss over what you're wearing as you rush out of the house. One day, you'll see.

One day, you'll hate how you look. You'll get your feelings hurt, and you'll wonder what God's purpose is for your life. One day, you'll feel like you're not good enough. People will make you cry, and you'll beat yourself up. One day, the devil will try to convince you that God isn't real, God doesn't love you, and that you don't belong. He'll say that you're not smart, not pretty, not funny, not talented enough. He will tell you that your mistakes aren't forgivable. One day, you might even start to believe him. You'll see.

But one day, you'll learn.

One day, you'll need me again. You might even call me ten times a day. You'll see that I am just a regular person and that I make mistakes just like everyone else. One day, you'll call me just because. You'll cry on my shoulder because life isn't happening exactly like you thought it would. You'll see me as an equal, a friend. One day, you'll ask me to go everywhere with you. You'll text me before you go to sleep, and you'll reveal every fear you have. One day, you will want to share clothes, and you'll buy me lunch. One day, you'll understand how much I love you. One day, you'll see.

One day, you’ll see that the things that once made you "different" are now the things that make you unique and original. You'll learn that it's better to be yourself than who you think people want you to  be. You'll learn that compassion is the greatest gift you can give anyone…that the most intelligent person in the world is the person who knows there's so much more left to learn. One day, you'll surprise yourself. One day, you'll see.

And one precious day, I pray, you'll discover who you are in Christ. You'll see that it's an ongoing honor--a humble journey--to be one of His. One day, you'll learn to feel comfortable in your own skin. You'll cut yourself some slack and give yourself some grace. One day, you'll smile at the things that used to consume your mind, worrying you until you couldn't sleep. One day, you'll warm up to this thing called life and realize that it's not all about us. It's not about us at all. One day, you'll see that God's love will never give up on you. One day, hopefully sooner than later, you'll see.

But one day when you’re older, you'll be beside yourself in diapers, laundry, and dishes. You'll have arguments with your husband, and the devil will make you feel resentful. You'll lash out at your kids and then feel sick about it afterwards. You'll feel like you'll never measure up to the ideal perfect mother. You'll be more exhausted than you've ever been before in your life. And at night when the devil tries to prey on your mind, he will make you doubt your love and you'll question if you're making a mess of everything. You'll beg, "Why is this so hard, God? I feel like I can't get it all done. How am I supposed to be a good mom, a light for you, shining bright for all to see, when my lamp has nothing left in it to burn?"

And then you'll remember my words that my mama told me all those years ago: "You're doing a good job. You'll miss these days. You will. Just give it time. It's going to get better. Lean on God’s grace. One day, you'll see."

I love you, Caroline. I might not always be around to experience every milestone or see every dream fulfilled, but know this: I pray these words will follow you wherever you go. Always allow the Lord to give you strength. Keep your heart clean and spirit renewed, and never forget that you are fearfully and wonderfully made.

-Mama

But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. Isaiah 40:31

Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. Psalms 51:10

I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. Psalms 137:14

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One Day, You'll See: A Letter to My Little Girl on Mother's Day

Guest Post with Cortney Elrod McKinney: God's Plans, Not Mine

I am a planner….I am one of those people who has had my whole life planned out for years: finish college, get a job, get my master’s degree, get married by twenty-five, be finished having children by thirty, and so on. Some of those things went according to plan, but others did not. Sometimes I think the Lord allows us to go through different situations to give us a wakeup call or teach us an important lesson….in my case to truly accept that He is in control, and I am not. The wonderful thing is his plans are greater than the plans I have ever had or will ever have for myself.

How awesome is that?

As awesome as that is, His plans are not always easy. The beginning of my plans came to fruition: I graduated from college with honors, easily landed a job in a wonderful school system, and obtained my master’s degree quickly in a year before getting married at age twenty-five to my high school sweetheart, Brett. Within a year or so, we had the desire to begin having children. We always said we wanted two or three kids. I assumed that would be an easy process once we made the decision, but I was slightly mistaken. I got pregnant quickly but miscarried at nine weeks which was devastating. Miscarriage is something that only mothers who have miscarried truly understand because you already have a special bond with that baby no matter the size or age. After the loss, I had to wait a few months before we could think about having a baby again to allow my body to heal from surgery. Finally, I received the positive pregnancy test and thankfully had a healthy pregnancy and delivery of our sweet Alexa on September 10, 2012.

Fast forward a couple of years, and Brett and I started having the desire for more children. I never dreamed our desire would lead us on our most recent journey. After months of trying to get pregnant, trying various medications, and several trips to my regular obstetrician, I was transferred to an infertility specialist. My specialist unknowingly ended up being a best friend of my brother-in-law’s. That’s just how God works! Of course, I checked out young and healthy….no known cause of infertility. I tried a series of expensive medications which also didn’t work, so the next step was more extensive treatment and an IUI procedure. My body actually was overstimulated by the treatments which resulted in large cysts and a failed procedure. Due to the cysts, I had to take a break from fertility treatments. I was devastated and frustrated after putting thousands of dollars into treatments that had failed.  During this time, Brett and I questioned ourselves, our doctors, and God. Was it meant for us to have more children? Were we trying too hard? Were we trying to make something happen that was not meant to be?

 After my body healed, we told our doctors we financially could not continue trying medications and procedures just to fail. We were strongly encouraged to do IVF at that point to increase the chances for pregnancy. IVF was really my only hope to get pregnant unless the Lord intervened another way. Of course, I left crying, and our initial reaction was we can’t afford it. In reality, we could not afford it, but God could.  It is amazing how He works everything according to His will and in perfect timing. He provided for us financially more that year than ever! I had prayed for many years to get a job closer to home and closer to my children. Out of nowhere, I quickly received a job opportunity to go to a larger school system that greatly increased my salary. My husband and I got frustrated on many occasions with his business, but God would end up blessing us more than we needed. I could go on and on about how the Lord provided the impossible, but that is just how great He is!

We decided to try IVF one time…that was all we could possibly afford, plus I just needed to try it once to have peace of mind that I had tried everything within my power to have more children. After many rounds of medications, shots in my stomach, surgical procedures and an emotional roller coaster ride, I got the answered prayer I had longed for. I had a positive pregnancy test!

My doctor had told me there was only a thirty percent chance I would carry twins, so we were in shock when there were two. My percentage to carry both babies increased with each visit until we could finally announce we were having twins! Of course, we were ecstatic, scared, and in shock! I had prayed so hard for just one more child to go with Alexa, but the Lord had different plans. He was giving us more than we ever thought about or ask for! For our Valentine’s date, Brett and I snuck away, thanks to a sweet friend, and found out we were having boys! I will be honest…I did not know whether to laugh or cry! Baby A was not very cooperative, but Baby B was definitely a boy! She was pretty positive I was carrying two boys. I was definitely in shock…mainly because my toddler had been saying for two years we were going to have a baby boy and baby girl. Plus, my entire family is mainly girls! God definitely has a sense of humor for sure giving this girly girl two boys!

The weeks quickly passed and went pretty smoothly up until my twenty-week ultrasound. We found out then there was an issue in the boys’ growth; their femurs were short. My regular obstetrician assured me they were likely fine, but he wanted to send me to a specialist to be monitored closely especially since I was carrying multiples. Of course, I was scared to death and began doing my own research which is never a good idea! In the meantime, I was also having issues with high blood pressure which led to the diagnosis of preeclampsia early on. Our first visit and the multiple visits in the future with the specialist were always very disturbing. The boys were growth restricted due to my preeclampsia, and Baby B was getting more nutrition than Baby A. We were told the babies would likely come early….there would come a time when the babies would be safer and would grow more outside of the womb.

My blood pressure continued to be out of control which led to numerous hospital visits to be monitored and eventually led to hospitalization until delivery. I was hospitalized when I was around 24 weeks pregnant, and the news continued to get darker so I was put on blood pressure medication and continuous monitoring of the babies. Since Baby A was not progressing as Baby B, Baby B was monitored routinely while Baby A was monitored less frequently. The doctors all agreed that was best in case Baby A got into distress and sent me into an emergency delivery. They wanted to increase their survival chances and leave them in as long as they could. Each time the nurses came in to monitor was very stressful. We were tense the entire time, hoping there would be two heartbeats. After being in the hospital a few weeks, my blood pressure was outrageous one night when the nurse came to check. I had to be rushed to labor and delivery to be closely monitored.

They started preparations for delivery just in case my health or the babies’ health prompted an emergency delivery. We received even grimmer news as they performed a final ultrasound to see what the babies looked like and how they were positioned. Baby A was unable to move due to loss of amniotic fluid and was barely moving his mouth. Baby B was still okay. The doctor gave us an ultimatum….either we deliver to try to save Baby A and put Baby B at risk or postpone delivery as long as possible to allow Baby B to grow more. The doctor did not think Baby A would survive and gave him a less than 5 percent chance of survival while giving Baby B a less than 50 percent chance.  Brett and I were both devastated and upset at the thoughts of having such a decision placed in our hands. I cried and told them I wanted what was best for both of my babies. They had already told us numerous times that their goal was for me to leave the hospital with one healthy baby, but I never wanted to accept that. The Lord had blessed me with two miracles, and I wanted to carry them both home. I decided that night not to do an emergency delivery and take the last round of steroids to benefit both babies. I thought it was the last possible thing I could do for both of them as their mommy, and the Lord gave me peace in doing that. This also gave us more time before having to do an emergency delivery.

Within a couple of days, the Lord took this heavy burden off of our shoulders and into his hands. My blood pressure skyrocketed again for several hours to the point that it put me at risk. There was nothing else for them to do but deliver. We were scared but relieved that the Lord made the decision for us and caused me to deliver in His time. He planned for my boys to be delivered when I was exactly 29 weeks, which is the exact period of time I had to keep them in the womb for survival. Brett and I went into delivery nervous, scared, and mentally preparing for a stillbirth for Baby A. My doctors began the c-section, and we soon heard cries, not one but two. I was in complete shock! Brett said he will never forget the look on my face. God had prevailed! I had two crying babies!

Baby A (Dallas) weighed one pound and one ounce, and Baby B (Dax) weighed one pound and thirteen ounces. They were both ten inches long. There is no way to describe how tiny they were! Dallas had to reach the one pound mark to survive due to equipment being tiny enough to use on him. He had also been given a less than five percent chance of survival, but he breathed his first week of life on his own which was amazing! Dax had to have immediate support after birth but did very well later on. Since Dallas did breathe so well on his own the first week, it actually caused him problems later on. He ended up having many complications with his breathing and feeding intolerance which also affected his growth. He stayed in the NICU 180 long days and came home at five pounds. He is now a little over ten pounds, still on a little oxygen support but has come so far. He is such a happy baby with the sweetest smile yet very feisty with a temper which is a big reason he has survived and has done so well. He was known in the NICU as “a little pistol.”

Dax, who had a less than fifty percent chance of survival, has done very well! He stayed in the NICU 100 days and has grown so fast! He also weighed over five pounds when he came home, but he now weighs over fifteen. He has several teeth, loves to eat, and is getting more mobile. He is a sweet, spoiled baby since he came home first and usually requires more attention than his little brother.

It is truly amazing how far they have come since the beginning! We watched God work miracles right before our eyes, and there is no other way to explain them other than it was Him. I don’t know why we have had to endure these circumstances, but I do know the Lord has a plan. His plans are better than my plans. His ways are greater than my ways. I know he has an ultimate plan and purpose for my two miracle babies. I look forward to watching them grow and follow the plans he has for them. God is so good, and we will forever be grateful for the work he has done and continues to do in our lives! Our sweet little guys will celebrate their first birthday May 11, 2017 even though they are only really nine months old gestation.

One of the verses I have held on to during these difficult times is Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” No matter what you are going through: miscarriage, infertility, financial hardships, uncertainty about the future, making plans for your life..etc., do know the Lord is holding you in his hands. His plans and his ways are greater than anything you could ever dream for yourself. He will make a way when there seems to be no way. Let him guide the way.

God bless!

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Guest Post with Cortney Elrod McKinney: God's Plans, Not Mine

Sentimental Mom Post: What I've Learned So Far

First of all, let me break through the fourth wall here and talk to you one on one. This is a sentimental month for me, so get ready for a mega dose of sentimental mom posts on my behalf. I also have two wonderful ladies who are going to share their stories this month, and I honestly cannot wait for you to be blessed with their words and their personal journeys. You are going to be blessed. I just know.

First of all, I want to share a little about this blog and how it originated. Before I started it, I began noticing a trend on social media. I sensed this vibe that women were hungry to read posts that depicted ordinary women, being ordinary moms, going through ordinary problems. Women were craving honest-to-goodness posts that talked about the hard stuff. In a world of easy, why are things so hard? You've probably seen this, too. You've probably even clicked on a few posts. 

God laid this desire upon my heart, and thus, Count It All Joy was born.

Y'all, my generation...we simply have too many choices. My maw maw reminds me that life was really hard in her younger days, but the hard stuff made things easy. You didn't worry about getting a birthday board for your child or matching outfits. You didn't worry about eating grass-fed beef. You ate what came out of the pasture. My generation, however, has it hard because we have too many choices...too many resources. Everything is just too easy...too available. 

If you'll look around, there's a war going on...a war against time and where we're moving...a war inside every woman's heart. I find a lot of women are longing to go back to when things were hard because they were simple...things like having big families, cooking healthy meals for an army, taking care of animals and the land, and just taking care of your home...simple things you just don't see much of anymore. However, within those same women is a sense of reality we've grown very comfortable with...things like technology, vehicles, supermarkets, and just the pleasures of this world. We appreciate the drive-thrus when we have to be on the road for all our various errands and to-dos. We stalk Pinterest for birthday party ideas. We order it all on Amazon with two-day shipping. We have it all at our finger tips. Anything we want to know, or anything we want to buy is ours. We don't want to give up the easy, but man, we've made life so hard.

We women are split. Balance, a word we learned in elementary school, seems so foreign now. With its cult-like mentality, our culture says "It's all or nothing." You're either a good mom or you're not. And sadly, some of us start believing this lie. There are some women, particularly mothers, who feel like we are split in two: the woman we show to the world and the woman we truly are. Never before has the difference been so drastic. 

I might be waxing poetic here, but how can you miss something you never had? How can you miss a way of life that you've never experienced? 

We long for an easier, simpler life. I think that's why we click on the mom posts. It might be why you're reading this right now. I believe that's God calling us, telling us to slow down. I think that our genes are calling for us to remember a simpler path when all we had to worry about was survival and being together. 

Our culture, the bully that it is, is pulling us in two directions. If we aren't eating organic, do we really love our kids? If our kids aren't reciting their multiplication tables at four, have we taught them anything? Have we prepared them for college? Kids are supposed to make their own choices, dress like little adults, and grow into adulthood before they're in high-school, yet our culture is obsessed with youth and discounts our worth as we age. It doesn't even make sense.

Our culture is a bully, and it doesn't have plans of redeeming itself.

My kids are still little, and I'm just now about to approach 31. I don't have all the answers, but each time a woman shares her story on this blog, there's a woman out there who may be living in a state of depression, anxiety, or disillusionment who will come away blessed, refreshed, and moved by the words she read. 

Please keep praying for this blog so that people will be blessed by these amazing women who give up themselves to share their personal stories and testimonies with each and every one of you. 

"Commit thy works unto the Lord, and thy thoughts shall be established. Proverbs 16:3"

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Sentimental Mom Post: What I've Learned So Far