Monday, February 22, 2016

Moments.

Dear family and friends,

It’s been a while, which I’m sure is coming as a shock to you. I’ve had so many thoughts running through my head, but one that keeps coming to mind is the idea of “moments.” I’ve felt the past few months the weight of the fall so heavily. In the nearness of cancer as it takes the life of someone very dear to us, in the loss of babies, in the suffering of infertility for close friends, in the brokenness of marriages that seemed unbreakable, the nearness of injustice tearing at the hearts of people I love. The list goes on… I’ve felt heavy hearted. I often find myself weepy lately. I’m a burden carrier - so I’ve found myself back at Matthew 28, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Balm for the soul. Give it to Jesus, give it to Jesus Katelyn.

This time last year, 33 weeks pregnant
The weight of those hurting around me, and my own aching heart, has tuned my heart to relishing in the moments, as corny as that may sound. The Lord has even shown me kindness that in the really hard moments, I can sit in them and even at times find rest. This month, these weeks, are especially hard. It’s been two years the first week of March that we lost our first precious baby to the arms of Jesus. Those moments are so vivid in my memory.

Our first positive pregnancy test after such a trying season of infertility - oh the joy that I will never forget. The screaming. The crying. The laughing. The praises to Jesus that he had answered our cry for a baby! And then the days and weeks to follow that were filled with the loneliest moments of my life. The strain that grieving puts on your marriage. The strange desire to create distance from those trying to enter in because it’s so much easier than being vulnerable. The anger. Oh the anger. The deep sadness. And the disheartening reminder of loss, of literal emptiness, in so many weeks of bleeding. Yet, in those weeks as I remember the moments two years later, I remember a village like I’ve never known. Meals after meals. Phone calls. Visits. People surrounding us as the hands and feet of Jesus. The most tangible reminder in those weeks and months to follow that the Lord had not forsaken us. Even better, He was so close. I long with so much joyful anticipation for the day when we will hold this sweet baby in our arms. I miss him or her so often.

our first ever positive pregnancy test
And now I sit in a new season of moments. Mama moments with our earthly bundle of love. Learning with so much grace what this looks like and how to rest in the imperfections of life. As I carry a weary heart for the brokenness in the world, as I’m constantly reminded in the everyday moments of being Eden’s mama, there are great gifts in the midst of weariness. The moments of giggling, of pirate-leg crawling (it’s seriously hilarious), of sassiness and screeching. In the moments of not-napping (which usually make me want to pull out all my hair), I’ve been able to thank God that there is a baby in my arms that is not napping. Wouldn’t trade those hard moments for anything. Don’t hear me saying I’m some saint—the frustration and the anger is all there in the hard moments. I’m just sharing that lately, the Lord is reminding me to be still in these moments.
To treasure them. To seek His faithfulness, His kindness, His good gifts, before I seek the selfish desires of my own heart. For even Eden, as a tiny image-bearer, bears the weight of sin. God extends his grace freely to me, and so I’m trying by his sweet new mercies, to extend it to Eden. Soaking in the moments of waking up next to the love of my life every morning, and going to bed with him every night. Treasuring the moments of nursing and rocking Eden knowing these moments are fleeting. Relishing in the pure crazy of my days as a teacher, aware that the Lord has equipped me and called me to love on these little people. Sitting in the moments of fear and anxiety, knowing that God is able. And trying to rest. Oh does this weary heart need to rest. Trying to rest in God’s promise to take my burdens if I come to Him.

You know that saying, “live in the moment?” The one that is plastered on every motivational poster with a beautiful sunset behind it? Well, that’s how I feel right now. The Lord is teaching me to sit in the moments.

To find beauty in the moments.

To cry and grieve and relive and cherish with my whole being, the moments.

For he has ordained them.

These moments are His. 

With love,
Katelyn