So i have finally made it to the end of this particular little series. This post is more of a "post script". It is my heart that my story will serve only to bring truth to light, and glory to God. :) i know... pretty high aspirations for one girl's story, but i know my Papa - and He can make feasts out of loaves and fishes, and so i brought Him mine. If you want to read the other pieces, you can find them here:
PART 1 - courage
PART 2 - rescue
PART 3 - life
PART 4 - bereft
PART 5 - truth
****************************************
Dear parents,
There are a few things my parents did right that are worth expressing here for others to take from what they will. My parents raised me knowing and understanding the intrinsic value of human life. i have no doubt that's why when a friend tried to suggest that i abort my precious baby, i literally felt the vomit rise in my throat and i stopped them before the words could be uttered. i knew that despite my desperate circumstances, my baby had as much a right to her wild and crazy life - as i had to mine.
Parents, raise your sons and daughters to value life.
To my boys (and my girls),
i want you to read my pain. Your daddy used to play that Blue Rodeo song, "i never meant to make you cry..." and i know that he regretted the way that the decisions we made together caused us (especially me - as the one carrying the little one) so much sorrow. If you love her, prove it by waiting.
Gently,
mama
Dear pastor,
My pastor - in his wisdom - asked me to refrain from being in ministry in the church for a while after our wedding. We needed his gentle discipline and rebuke. i am grateful that he talked to us about our sin - rather than ignoring it (which i'm sure would have been easier). He allowed us to bring truth to the surface and begin healing by first cleaning our wounds and putting on fresh dressing, y'know?
Pastors, tend your flocks.
Dear church,
So many women reached out to me as i stumbled from being a girl to a married mother. i thought that every time one did, she needed to see my shame - to see that i wasn't proud of myself - to understand that i knew i was dead wrong. Church, this is a heavy burden for a girl full of repentance to bear. If she misses you in her long line of apologies, have grace for her. If she can't stand to bring it up again... and again, and again, and again... understand that her Father is dealing with her - and your kindnesses won't spoil her. She doesn't need to be beat down. Trust me. She needs your mercy. Be the hands and feet - this is one of those times to just *do*. My sister jess calls it, "the gospel in boots"... Can you be the one wearing them?
Friends and family,
i remember a phone call that i got from my uncle. He chose not to give me a sermon that night (though, believe you me; i got a few really good sermons in that time of my life that were invaluable to me). Instead he spoke in a slow low tone - as though to a wild animal - pretending not to hear that there were only horrible choking sobs on the other end of the line, he kept up the conversation all by himself. He told me how my grandma goose sure loved babies - and it didn't matter how they came into being or under what circumstances - but that she was always excited for a new one. He was sure she would have been excited for mine too, if she had been there. He told me that his wife would have given an arm... or a leg too... if she could have had a child - and that i was sure blessed to be having one. He gently prodded me about neil - telling me we were lucky to have that kind of love....
And i didn't record that conversation in my journal.
But i remember it.
Those types of kindnesses were rare. Honestly? Most people ignored us, unsure how to proceed (this was true both for me and for Neil)- i don't blame them. The awkwardness was of our own making. But to have someone gently reach out - and not even allow the guilty apologies to begin to be spoken, but instead to speak love - was a balm to my hurting lonely heart at a very difficult time in my life.
Friends? If you can, be kind.
Dear pregnant, scared, single mama -
i know.
i'm crying again even now writing this.
Maybe we can cry together.
i want you to understand that the baby? The baby is not the sin. The baby - your son or daughter - is a gift from God. Yes. A gift. From God. The little one you're carrying - was conceived by the will of God - and was created in His very image. How amazing is that?
The sin? That can be taken care of - washed clean and healed... But you need to begin now - to take away the ugly rotten lies that want to cling to your wounds and make them fester and rot. You need to acknowledge your sin to your Papa. He loves you, precious daughter of the King. There can be sorrow with this repentance... but it won't last forever - just watch what He will do. He has plans for you, and one of those plans is for you to carry this little one. i can't pretend to know where He will take you beyond that - but know that if you allow Him to cleanse your wounds - you can have an intimacy in your relationship with Him that will only grow until you think you could burst. Maybe you've been told that if you carry or keep this baby, your life is over. i want you to know that this bend in the road isn't the end of your life... but it is the very sweet beginning of your child's. Your choices right now affect you both - be wise and compassionate. You won't regret it.
You are a mama.
i don't know if you will choose, like me, to be the best (broken, imperfect) mama to your little one as you can be, or if you will choose adoption for your darling child - but i do know that God has a plan for your little one, and that your loving protection right now is life-saving, life-changing, life-sustaining.
You are a humbled hero.
You have the character to do this hard thing.
You do.
If you need help, or don't know where to turn - contact your local crisis pregnancy care center... even... contact me on this blog - and i will do what i can to help you find the help you need.
You are not alone.
i love you.
And so does your Creator.
Showing posts with label testimony. Show all posts
Showing posts with label testimony. Show all posts
Monday, October 8, 2012
Friday, October 5, 2012
Truth - part 5
ok. i'm almost finished. Too many tears and probably too little coherence. i'm worried in a million ways about telling this story wrong, but it will be what it will be. Today is part 5, and the final piece, part 6, is almost ready to go. You can read the other parts here:
PART 1 - courage
PART 2 - rescue
PART 3 - life
PART 4 - bereft
*********************************
When i was 8 weeks along, i told the program director at the college i was going to that i was pregnant. i was starting to get tired of hiding. Truth began to peek. i don't know why i didn't just pack up and move to Kelowna. There were a million reasons, for one; it felt like i was in the twilight zone - and as much as my loneliness cried out to be with Neil... i needed a moment to catch my breath, to make sure he really wanted me, that we weren't compounding mistakes. i wanted to finish my program - thinking that in some ways it would be the last accomplishment i would ever have. (Little did i know that the accomplishment i was undertaking next would be bigger than any others to date). And then, Neil and i both wanted to prepare ourselves for the other... (i just typed out about a dozen sentences trying to explain what i mean by that and i realize that i'm going to have to leave it out for now because there aren't the right words.) ;)
i wanted the diploma i had been working so hard on - even though all my plans had been changed in an instant. i wasn't going to go to UofA like i thought i might... i wasn't going to gig over the summer... i would go back to Kelowna, marry my 18 year old boyfriend (who i loved) and have a baby in September.
"Y'know, if i had to try to think of something that'd be harder to go through than this, i don't think i could. It's very lonely because i don't want to talk to people about it. i cry alone. It's strange, but i don't even trust this journal enough. i feel so completely inside of myself." -february 1996
February 16th, i went home for reading week - and despite my protestation that i didn't want or need a ring, Neil felt better putting one on my finger and we found ourselves officially engaged. Everything felt different when i went back. i wanted to be done. i was divided as i prepared for finals and year end. i tried to focus on school, on getting enough fruit and veggies for the tiny one who was changing my body daily, studying and singing - but my heart was gone. It stayed behind in Kelowna with Neil. i remained divided for the rest of the school year. i cringed seeing my maiden name on my medical records - i hated knowing that i had put my tiny daughter in such a precarious position by being careless with my own body. As gross as the comparison is - when i look at my attitude towards that part of my life, i was like an animal scratching dirt over its own mess. i wanted to cover it, leave it behind and disassociate myself from the foolish girl with the tear stained journal.
Neil sent me love notes full of promises and declarations - and i read and re-read them, folding them into that journal that has survived these 16 years...
My mom gently prodded my sorrow - sending me Oscar Wilde and sewing me two summer maternity dresses covered in butterflies.
i worried about my 4th tri jury, exams, my wedding, my husband not liking my quickly changing body, gaining weight, not having any energy, my own lack of maturity.
"i'm not showing at all yet, but i can feel my uterus if i push my belly." March 1996
(It's so strange to see my awed, inexperienced perspective as a first time mama)...
And then more of the same... the aching loneliness - the longing to be loved and the cry to be known - but despairing that anyone other than my neil and God would ever want to bother... and thinking and hoping that these two would be enough.
"i'm sad. i already tried to sleep and that didn't work. Maybe i could just lay here for a while and hope that i'll drop off. G'night vent. Hey, vent is wind in french... now i see why..." March 1996
The next few pages contain little other than the sentiment, "i'm tired." expressed ad nauseum in the same used up sentences scrawled in untidy ink across pages that deserved better. "Wheuf i'm pooped," "Sooooooo tired." "Can barely keep my eyes open." But every so often, i would summon the strength to try harder to express where i found myself:
"My jury is done, but i still have to finish my professionalism paper, an arranging assignment, my jingle, my scale jury and then little things like the annex concert, preparing for the banff trip and a few things in the recording studio... and then prep for the wedding. Ack. i need to be done and over with this section of my life. Know what? i'm tired. Not necessarily physically, but just in every way." March 1996
"i wish sometimes i would die." March 1996
"my life... i've made it suck. i would give anything to change the last few years of my life. There's so much i would take away. i'd sure keep neil. Oh, God, i wish that i could wake up. i wish that i would die or run away or disappear. i wish, i wish, i wish. There's always so much that i wish and want and need." april 1996
"i lied to someone about being pregnant. Someone i don't even know told someone else who told someone at school that i'm pregnant. She asked me and i said no... i panicked... but really i am. i'm sorry. i lied. i feel dumb. i'm going to tell her the truth." April 1996
And i did.
Slowly over the next weeks, months and years - Truth became my banner. People have often asked me why i am so open about my first pregnancy... Don't i know i'm forgiven? Don't i understand that i'm free? And i feel a little bit like Paul when he boasts about his weaknesses - because when he does so, it shows the glory of God.
God has been so very, very good to me.
Graduation melted into home-going melted into wedding melted into life... and time passed and separated me from the time of my my rescue, but i remained rescued. i would forever be the girl who had been rescued by a Father who loved her so very, very much. Time wouldn't change or soften that truth - it would only make it more precious.
i still remember those months after my wedding - when i found i couldn't sing. i would sit down at the old piano my young husband had bought me - and my voice would break and crack and i would moan my songs of gratitude to God with tears streaming down my face. i soon learned to not even bother standing when we would sing in church. i would just sit- hands circling tender belly - and listen and cry. i remember thinking at one point that i would never be able to sing again. Every song reminded me of my Redeemer - every melodic turn reminded me how i needed Him. Every word pointed to His careful tending of my unworthy heart.
i have never, ever, ever gotten over it. To this day, when i lead worship in my home church - i find i can hold nothing back. My praise is raw - my worship, "unveiled"... It's not pretty - but i know that when i sing, it's something different than it ever was before He rescued me. It's different than it was before He broke down every stronghold so that i could declare Truth victorious in my life.
And i'm still grateful.
PART 6
PART 1 - courage
PART 2 - rescue
PART 3 - life
PART 4 - bereft
*********************************
When i was 8 weeks along, i told the program director at the college i was going to that i was pregnant. i was starting to get tired of hiding. Truth began to peek. i don't know why i didn't just pack up and move to Kelowna. There were a million reasons, for one; it felt like i was in the twilight zone - and as much as my loneliness cried out to be with Neil... i needed a moment to catch my breath, to make sure he really wanted me, that we weren't compounding mistakes. i wanted to finish my program - thinking that in some ways it would be the last accomplishment i would ever have. (Little did i know that the accomplishment i was undertaking next would be bigger than any others to date). And then, Neil and i both wanted to prepare ourselves for the other... (i just typed out about a dozen sentences trying to explain what i mean by that and i realize that i'm going to have to leave it out for now because there aren't the right words.) ;)
 |
| doesn't everyone keep their diploma in their piano bench? |
"Y'know, if i had to try to think of something that'd be harder to go through than this, i don't think i could. It's very lonely because i don't want to talk to people about it. i cry alone. It's strange, but i don't even trust this journal enough. i feel so completely inside of myself." -february 1996
February 16th, i went home for reading week - and despite my protestation that i didn't want or need a ring, Neil felt better putting one on my finger and we found ourselves officially engaged. Everything felt different when i went back. i wanted to be done. i was divided as i prepared for finals and year end. i tried to focus on school, on getting enough fruit and veggies for the tiny one who was changing my body daily, studying and singing - but my heart was gone. It stayed behind in Kelowna with Neil. i remained divided for the rest of the school year. i cringed seeing my maiden name on my medical records - i hated knowing that i had put my tiny daughter in such a precarious position by being careless with my own body. As gross as the comparison is - when i look at my attitude towards that part of my life, i was like an animal scratching dirt over its own mess. i wanted to cover it, leave it behind and disassociate myself from the foolish girl with the tear stained journal.
Neil sent me love notes full of promises and declarations - and i read and re-read them, folding them into that journal that has survived these 16 years...
My mom gently prodded my sorrow - sending me Oscar Wilde and sewing me two summer maternity dresses covered in butterflies.
"i'm not showing at all yet, but i can feel my uterus if i push my belly." March 1996
(It's so strange to see my awed, inexperienced perspective as a first time mama)...
And then more of the same... the aching loneliness - the longing to be loved and the cry to be known - but despairing that anyone other than my neil and God would ever want to bother... and thinking and hoping that these two would be enough.
"i'm sad. i already tried to sleep and that didn't work. Maybe i could just lay here for a while and hope that i'll drop off. G'night vent. Hey, vent is wind in french... now i see why..." March 1996
The next few pages contain little other than the sentiment, "i'm tired." expressed ad nauseum in the same used up sentences scrawled in untidy ink across pages that deserved better. "Wheuf i'm pooped," "Sooooooo tired." "Can barely keep my eyes open." But every so often, i would summon the strength to try harder to express where i found myself:
"My jury is done, but i still have to finish my professionalism paper, an arranging assignment, my jingle, my scale jury and then little things like the annex concert, preparing for the banff trip and a few things in the recording studio... and then prep for the wedding. Ack. i need to be done and over with this section of my life. Know what? i'm tired. Not necessarily physically, but just in every way." March 1996
"i wish sometimes i would die." March 1996
"my life... i've made it suck. i would give anything to change the last few years of my life. There's so much i would take away. i'd sure keep neil. Oh, God, i wish that i could wake up. i wish that i would die or run away or disappear. i wish, i wish, i wish. There's always so much that i wish and want and need." april 1996
"i lied to someone about being pregnant. Someone i don't even know told someone else who told someone at school that i'm pregnant. She asked me and i said no... i panicked... but really i am. i'm sorry. i lied. i feel dumb. i'm going to tell her the truth." April 1996
And i did.
Slowly over the next weeks, months and years - Truth became my banner. People have often asked me why i am so open about my first pregnancy... Don't i know i'm forgiven? Don't i understand that i'm free? And i feel a little bit like Paul when he boasts about his weaknesses - because when he does so, it shows the glory of God.
God has been so very, very good to me.
Graduation melted into home-going melted into wedding melted into life... and time passed and separated me from the time of my my rescue, but i remained rescued. i would forever be the girl who had been rescued by a Father who loved her so very, very much. Time wouldn't change or soften that truth - it would only make it more precious.
i still remember those months after my wedding - when i found i couldn't sing. i would sit down at the old piano my young husband had bought me - and my voice would break and crack and i would moan my songs of gratitude to God with tears streaming down my face. i soon learned to not even bother standing when we would sing in church. i would just sit- hands circling tender belly - and listen and cry. i remember thinking at one point that i would never be able to sing again. Every song reminded me of my Redeemer - every melodic turn reminded me how i needed Him. Every word pointed to His careful tending of my unworthy heart.
i have never, ever, ever gotten over it. To this day, when i lead worship in my home church - i find i can hold nothing back. My praise is raw - my worship, "unveiled"... It's not pretty - but i know that when i sing, it's something different than it ever was before He rescued me. It's different than it was before He broke down every stronghold so that i could declare Truth victorious in my life.
And i'm still grateful.
PART 6
Monday, October 1, 2012
bereft - part 4
You can read the first three parts here: PART 1, PART 2 and PART 3. Still not really sure what i'm doing - but here's part 4...
*******************************
"Baby's code name is Cairo. i love Cairo. i love this little one growing inside me." - January 26, 1996
"In three months and seven days i will be Mrs. Neil Beselt. i can't believe it. Then five months after that we will have a baby and my life will be so very different from what it is right now." - January 28, 1996
"no other thoughts even crossed my mind other than that i would love and raise this baby to the very best of my abilities. i miss Neil so much." January 30th, 1996
After a humiliating prenatal physical: "i'm sitting here waiting for my voice teacher to get here and just hoping she won't show 'cause i really, really, REALLY don't feel like singing today." - January 31, 1996
Adding up tiny bits of gig money: "They gave me $30 for three songs, i have $40 in my wallet and i have $50 coming for that benefit gig and another $75 if we do the singing at convocation. i think that's just about enough for Neil's ring..." - February 3rd, 1996
"The smell of the old food in our kitchen was making me nauseous. Neil said it hurts him that i have to go through the first four months of prengnacy by myself so i won't tell him i was sick this morning. He said he already signed us up for prenatal classes." - Feb 4th, 1996
And then suddenly... stealing the words of another to express what i couldn't bear to write in my journal myself:
Bereft
Where had i heard this wind before
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
holding open a restive door,
looking downhill to a frothy shore?
Summer was passed and day was passed.
Somber clouds in the west were massed.
out on the porches' sagging floor,
Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
blindly struck at my knee and missed.
Something sinister in his tone
Told my secret must be known:
Word i was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word i was in my life alone,
Word i had no one left but God.
- Robert Frost.
My shame kept me from publicly shouting anything other than love and excitement over upcoming marriage and family... but underneath it all... i felt so horribly lonely in those weeks and months before our wedding as i finished my classes - single and pregnant. The nausea was constant and i felt dizzy and exhausted, but humiliated and guilty if i complained...
i turn pages, remembering... and i read again and again in that little journal every combination of words that convey a message that wasn't... that isn't... true, "they don't love me anymore..."
My heart broke as i believed that lie. i saw myself as unworthy of love - every flaw magnified, every weakness broadcast to the world at large... Unwanted. Bereft.
"Baby, we want to bring you up right. We want you to be happy and healthy and i want to tell you something else. i want to make a promise to you, no matter what happens in my life or in your life, Neil and i will love you with all our hearts (the word 'daddy' didn't slip easily from my pen yet...) - no matter who you become or what choices you make. i know how it feels to turn around all of a sudden and your team ditched. i know it's hard for my family to deal with the choices i've made and it has nothing to do with you... but i need them now more than i've ever needed them in my life. So through this, i've learned one more kernel of wisdom which i will pass on to you sweet heart. We will love you UNCONDITIONALLY. We want you to become a happy, loving, wise person and if in life you make some bad choices or choices that would be different from ours, don't be scared to talk to us about it, we will love you and encourage you and maybe we'll even be able to help you. Anyways, it's getting late and i'm getting ahead of myself. Do you know what? Right now, you are about as big as a grain of rice. You are teeny, but i love you anyways. So does Neil." ...and so did her Creator. - February 7, 1996
************************************************
*Disclaimer* These journal entries represent how i felt that winter. My family *far* from ditched. My mom sewed dresses and planned my wedding and my dad paid for it all... Despite their support - *this* is the way that a 19 year old single, selfish pregnant girl might *feel* in her moment of desperate vulnerability. Please don't judge my parents based on these feelings which are really, quite far from the truth. Instead - realize that a girl in the situation i was in might feel like a wild animal trapped in the corner of a room without a friendly face in sight. She might be unimaginably needy. She might be unbelievably selfish. She might be inconsolably sad and lonely. Love her anyway.
************************************************
PART 5
PART 6
*******************************
"In three months and seven days i will be Mrs. Neil Beselt. i can't believe it. Then five months after that we will have a baby and my life will be so very different from what it is right now." - January 28, 1996
"no other thoughts even crossed my mind other than that i would love and raise this baby to the very best of my abilities. i miss Neil so much." January 30th, 1996
After a humiliating prenatal physical: "i'm sitting here waiting for my voice teacher to get here and just hoping she won't show 'cause i really, really, REALLY don't feel like singing today." - January 31, 1996
Adding up tiny bits of gig money: "They gave me $30 for three songs, i have $40 in my wallet and i have $50 coming for that benefit gig and another $75 if we do the singing at convocation. i think that's just about enough for Neil's ring..." - February 3rd, 1996
"The smell of the old food in our kitchen was making me nauseous. Neil said it hurts him that i have to go through the first four months of prengnacy by myself so i won't tell him i was sick this morning. He said he already signed us up for prenatal classes." - Feb 4th, 1996
And then suddenly... stealing the words of another to express what i couldn't bear to write in my journal myself:
Bereft
Where had i heard this wind before
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
holding open a restive door,
looking downhill to a frothy shore?
Summer was passed and day was passed.
Somber clouds in the west were massed.
out on the porches' sagging floor,
Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
blindly struck at my knee and missed.
Something sinister in his tone
Told my secret must be known:
Word i was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word i was in my life alone,
Word i had no one left but God.
- Robert Frost.
My shame kept me from publicly shouting anything other than love and excitement over upcoming marriage and family... but underneath it all... i felt so horribly lonely in those weeks and months before our wedding as i finished my classes - single and pregnant. The nausea was constant and i felt dizzy and exhausted, but humiliated and guilty if i complained...
i turn pages, remembering... and i read again and again in that little journal every combination of words that convey a message that wasn't... that isn't... true, "they don't love me anymore..."
My heart broke as i believed that lie. i saw myself as unworthy of love - every flaw magnified, every weakness broadcast to the world at large... Unwanted. Bereft.
"Baby, we want to bring you up right. We want you to be happy and healthy and i want to tell you something else. i want to make a promise to you, no matter what happens in my life or in your life, Neil and i will love you with all our hearts (the word 'daddy' didn't slip easily from my pen yet...) - no matter who you become or what choices you make. i know how it feels to turn around all of a sudden and your team ditched. i know it's hard for my family to deal with the choices i've made and it has nothing to do with you... but i need them now more than i've ever needed them in my life. So through this, i've learned one more kernel of wisdom which i will pass on to you sweet heart. We will love you UNCONDITIONALLY. We want you to become a happy, loving, wise person and if in life you make some bad choices or choices that would be different from ours, don't be scared to talk to us about it, we will love you and encourage you and maybe we'll even be able to help you. Anyways, it's getting late and i'm getting ahead of myself. Do you know what? Right now, you are about as big as a grain of rice. You are teeny, but i love you anyways. So does Neil." ...and so did her Creator. - February 7, 1996
************************************************
*Disclaimer* These journal entries represent how i felt that winter. My family *far* from ditched. My mom sewed dresses and planned my wedding and my dad paid for it all... Despite their support - *this* is the way that a 19 year old single, selfish pregnant girl might *feel* in her moment of desperate vulnerability. Please don't judge my parents based on these feelings which are really, quite far from the truth. Instead - realize that a girl in the situation i was in might feel like a wild animal trapped in the corner of a room without a friendly face in sight. She might be unimaginably needy. She might be unbelievably selfish. She might be inconsolably sad and lonely. Love her anyway.
************************************************
PART 5
PART 6
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
life - part 3
Typical.
It takes me three posts to get to the positive pregnancy test.
Coward that i am, this undressing doesn't come easily. i have no idea how many parts there are to this exploration, but you can read part 1 HERE and you can read part 2 HERE.
The day after my scrawled prayer, i confided in a friend who comforted me, but wanted to congratulate me on finding my sexual freedom. i knew it wasn't so - and the congratulations rubbed raw on a heart that knew better. Even though my friend tried to sooth my worry and explain it away by saying the chances were so slim and my guilty conscience was just making me crazy... a part of me wondered. The calendar didn't lie. The day after that, i couldn't take it any more and i begged my friend to buy me a pregnancy test because i was too ashamed to buy one for myself.
i took it in the girl's washroom of the college... i still remember reading the directions - feeling my throat closing in as i realized what i was doing. It was supposed to take three minutes to turn, so i glanced at the directions and glancing back was shocked to see a bright blue line.
That line screamed, "life"...
i had no doubt from the moment i saw it blazing - the ink bleeding into the white circle surrounding it - so dark that it seemed to me there never had been a more positive positive pregnancy test - that i was not alone in that bathroom stall. We were two. And i, the stronger - owed everything to her, the weaker.
But so pressing and crushing were the thoughts that followed. How was i going to tell my mom and dad? And everyone else in the world?
i stumbled from the bathroom, and in a daze continued my day. i sang at a composition annex, and then performed at the drum ensemble, i hurried to another rehearsal i had scheduled - and then finally home.
When i got home, i phoned Neil and my sisters... Neil's response was to propose marriage. He kept any fear he might have felt from his voice and said gently, "i'm excited to have a baby with you, paige..." and i believed him. i begged him to keep it a secret between us - i felt naked and vulnerable - and i knew i had made myself so. He told me that he would do anything for me, but please not to ask him to keep it a secret from his parents.
i felt like nothing was in my control. Soon everyone would know. i wanted desperately to hide. i wanted to run. i wanted to wake up and have it be last week, last month, last year... i didn't want everyone looking at me with scorn and disappointment. i didn't want to feel mocked or judged or pitied or condemned... i was afraid - and i watched my secret leak from between my fingers as i forced my voice to say the words that brought the avalanche of dread down around me... i knew that it would spread - and the thought of Neil telling his parents terrified me. i thought of the grief and the shame that i was bringing both my family and his... i recoiled from the thought of my secret travelling through every circle i have ever been apart of. i thought i would suffocate in it... and i welcomed the thought. How could i have known then that He would create something beautiful from my pitiful offering of repentance combined with His goodness in restoring what was lost?
"Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me." ps. 51:10
was worm
was worm
swaddled in white.
now tiny queen
in sequin coat
peacock-bright
drinks the wind
and feeds
on sweat of the leaves.
is little chinks
of mosaic floating
a scatter
of colored beads
Alighting pokes
with her new black wire
the safron yokes.
on silent hinges
open-folds her wings'
applauding hands.
weaned
from coddling white
to lake-deep air,
to blue and green
is queen.
-may swenson
*********************************
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
*********************************
Did you know that 40 Days for Life starts today with over 300 vigil sites world wide? You can follow our blog HERE.
It can be no coincidence that our government is also voting on MOTION 312 today... Will you join me in prayer for a softening of hearts in our nation towards the issue of abortion?
It takes me three posts to get to the positive pregnancy test.
Coward that i am, this undressing doesn't come easily. i have no idea how many parts there are to this exploration, but you can read part 1 HERE and you can read part 2 HERE.
The day after my scrawled prayer, i confided in a friend who comforted me, but wanted to congratulate me on finding my sexual freedom. i knew it wasn't so - and the congratulations rubbed raw on a heart that knew better. Even though my friend tried to sooth my worry and explain it away by saying the chances were so slim and my guilty conscience was just making me crazy... a part of me wondered. The calendar didn't lie. The day after that, i couldn't take it any more and i begged my friend to buy me a pregnancy test because i was too ashamed to buy one for myself.
i took it in the girl's washroom of the college... i still remember reading the directions - feeling my throat closing in as i realized what i was doing. It was supposed to take three minutes to turn, so i glanced at the directions and glancing back was shocked to see a bright blue line.
That line screamed, "life"...
i had no doubt from the moment i saw it blazing - the ink bleeding into the white circle surrounding it - so dark that it seemed to me there never had been a more positive positive pregnancy test - that i was not alone in that bathroom stall. We were two. And i, the stronger - owed everything to her, the weaker.
But so pressing and crushing were the thoughts that followed. How was i going to tell my mom and dad? And everyone else in the world?
i stumbled from the bathroom, and in a daze continued my day. i sang at a composition annex, and then performed at the drum ensemble, i hurried to another rehearsal i had scheduled - and then finally home.
When i got home, i phoned Neil and my sisters... Neil's response was to propose marriage. He kept any fear he might have felt from his voice and said gently, "i'm excited to have a baby with you, paige..." and i believed him. i begged him to keep it a secret between us - i felt naked and vulnerable - and i knew i had made myself so. He told me that he would do anything for me, but please not to ask him to keep it a secret from his parents.
i felt like nothing was in my control. Soon everyone would know. i wanted desperately to hide. i wanted to run. i wanted to wake up and have it be last week, last month, last year... i didn't want everyone looking at me with scorn and disappointment. i didn't want to feel mocked or judged or pitied or condemned... i was afraid - and i watched my secret leak from between my fingers as i forced my voice to say the words that brought the avalanche of dread down around me... i knew that it would spread - and the thought of Neil telling his parents terrified me. i thought of the grief and the shame that i was bringing both my family and his... i recoiled from the thought of my secret travelling through every circle i have ever been apart of. i thought i would suffocate in it... and i welcomed the thought. How could i have known then that He would create something beautiful from my pitiful offering of repentance combined with His goodness in restoring what was lost?
"Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me." ps. 51:10
was worm
was worm
swaddled in white.
now tiny queen
in sequin coat
peacock-bright
drinks the wind
and feeds
on sweat of the leaves.
is little chinks
of mosaic floating
a scatter
of colored beads
Alighting pokes
with her new black wire
the safron yokes.
on silent hinges
open-folds her wings'
applauding hands.
weaned
from coddling white
to lake-deep air,
to blue and green
is queen.
-may swenson
*********************************
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
*********************************
Did you know that 40 Days for Life starts today with over 300 vigil sites world wide? You can follow our blog HERE.
It can be no coincidence that our government is also voting on MOTION 312 today... Will you join me in prayer for a softening of hearts in our nation towards the issue of abortion?
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
rescue - part 2
You can read part 1 HERE. Still not sure if i'll finish - or how many parts this little journey will document, but pressing on with part 2...
***
i have stars in my eyes. Makes me wonder if they cloud and distort my view or make it clearer. - january 1996
i can read... or maybe remember... the doubt in my words. Pages and pages of oozing love, passionate displays of trumpeting affection - and yet this line jumps out at me. It wasn't my love that i doubted i'm sure - because even now my heart beats slowly - almost painfully in my ears when he calls to tell me he's coming home. It was doubt over my actions, my lack of wisdom, the careless destruction of my character. i force myself to read from the beginning. On these pages, i find fleeting wide-eyed romanticized awe over a random musician, disappointment over a song that bombed and elation over a performance that rocked... little of substance, other than the one small doubt voiced above.
And then... at the bottom of a page that has no other mention of my Father, these verses...
"But i trust in Your unfailing love. My heart rejoices in Your salvation. i will sing to the Lord for He has been good to me." - psalm 13:5,6
"Don't let anyone think little of you because you are young, be their ideal; let them follow the way you teach and live; be a pattern for them in your love, your faith and your clean thoughts." 1timothy 4:11-13
And the battle waged.
My Father spoke truth through His word... He didn't abandon me. i have the proof captured in my own handwriting.
Hey, daughter - you're mine. i gave you a framework for love, for marriage, for purity - not as a stern task master - but because i love you so very, very much...
As i read the parts of my journal that are hard for me to read, i see Him reaching out to me; trying to save me from my own weakness, offering me an alternative, a better way, a straight path.
The whisper in the wind was lost on me.
Hey, Papa? i wish i would have heard you. i wish i would have listened. i know now that You were with me - and You never did take Your fingers off of me.
i turn the page, and it brings me to that old distance. The distance between us - from Edmonton, Alberta to Kelowna, BC - may as well have been the distance across the milky way. Phone calls in those days were excruciatingly expensive, and a full time student and a boy still living with his mama and daddy don't have many pennies to spare... (that said, the phone companies made hundreds off of us in those months). i didn't have my own computer - neither did Neil. It was a different world then - and we were hundreds of miles apart.
Eight pages into my journal, there's an entry written in red ink:
i'm scared. i have no one to talk to except Neil and he's so far away and it costs so much money to talk to him... so i will write a letter to God...
And i did. My childlike fear, my contrition, my agony and shame - i brought to Him - along with an aside that i find interesting:
"if only people knew. i'm not telling anyone. That's for sure."
And now i can laugh - just like He must have - as he orchestrated His answer...
"Do you think I'm going to leave you there, Daughter? Agonizing over a secret shame that you're intent on keeping covered, rotting and destroying you from the inside out? I am your Rescuer - and i will teach you to love Truth just like I do... "
Unbeknownst to me, a little life was already created - Truth was going to be acknowledged and my Great Rescue began...
**************
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
***
i have stars in my eyes. Makes me wonder if they cloud and distort my view or make it clearer. - january 1996
i can read... or maybe remember... the doubt in my words. Pages and pages of oozing love, passionate displays of trumpeting affection - and yet this line jumps out at me. It wasn't my love that i doubted i'm sure - because even now my heart beats slowly - almost painfully in my ears when he calls to tell me he's coming home. It was doubt over my actions, my lack of wisdom, the careless destruction of my character. i force myself to read from the beginning. On these pages, i find fleeting wide-eyed romanticized awe over a random musician, disappointment over a song that bombed and elation over a performance that rocked... little of substance, other than the one small doubt voiced above.
And then... at the bottom of a page that has no other mention of my Father, these verses...
"But i trust in Your unfailing love. My heart rejoices in Your salvation. i will sing to the Lord for He has been good to me." - psalm 13:5,6
My Father spoke truth through His word... He didn't abandon me. i have the proof captured in my own handwriting.
Hey, daughter - you're mine. i gave you a framework for love, for marriage, for purity - not as a stern task master - but because i love you so very, very much...
As i read the parts of my journal that are hard for me to read, i see Him reaching out to me; trying to save me from my own weakness, offering me an alternative, a better way, a straight path.
The whisper in the wind was lost on me.
Hey, Papa? i wish i would have heard you. i wish i would have listened. i know now that You were with me - and You never did take Your fingers off of me.
i turn the page, and it brings me to that old distance. The distance between us - from Edmonton, Alberta to Kelowna, BC - may as well have been the distance across the milky way. Phone calls in those days were excruciatingly expensive, and a full time student and a boy still living with his mama and daddy don't have many pennies to spare... (that said, the phone companies made hundreds off of us in those months). i didn't have my own computer - neither did Neil. It was a different world then - and we were hundreds of miles apart.
Eight pages into my journal, there's an entry written in red ink:
i'm scared. i have no one to talk to except Neil and he's so far away and it costs so much money to talk to him... so i will write a letter to God...
And i did. My childlike fear, my contrition, my agony and shame - i brought to Him - along with an aside that i find interesting:
"if only people knew. i'm not telling anyone. That's for sure."
And now i can laugh - just like He must have - as he orchestrated His answer...
"Do you think I'm going to leave you there, Daughter? Agonizing over a secret shame that you're intent on keeping covered, rotting and destroying you from the inside out? I am your Rescuer - and i will teach you to love Truth just like I do... "
Unbeknownst to me, a little life was already created - Truth was going to be acknowledged and my Great Rescue began...
**************
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
Sunday, September 23, 2012
courage - part 1
i don't know how these posts will come out. i've got three started in drafts, and i haven't even made it very far into some of what i'd like to explore. i know that i'd like to end with a challenge to unwed mamas, to the churches that surround them and hold them and to the parents, siblings, boyfriends and friends that are in their lives. Maybe these posts will just be lame... and maybe i'll quit part way through... No promises :) But for what it's worth - here is part 1.
i picked up my old journal. The one whose starting date is January 4th 1996. The one that has butterflies and doodles inscribed all inside the front flap. It has quotes drawn around and decorating the broken binding... things like:
"i never wanted to be famous, i only wanted to be great." Ray Charles
"An object in possession seldom retains the same charm that it had in pursuit." - pliny the younger
A description of beauty: in the eye of the beholder, self-control, happiness, dainty, gentleness, purity, meekness, honesty, love, fleeting, skin-deep, love, goodness, hope, worker...
It has, written in tidy black ink in the top right hand corner, the address of my first apartment - and a name: miss. retha paige sloan - 1996.
It belonged to a girl i hardly ever think about because my memories are so conflicted. My eyes are tearing up and my cheeks are burning with that smouldering shame just picking it up again.
i don't read it.
A few women have told me about their abortions in the past little while.
Their stories moved me - and even days later, i wonder at their courage in sharing honestly from their hurting chapters. There is beauty in honesty after all - and theirs shakes me from my comfortable middle class mama role - and knocks me back in time to when i was 19 in my second year of music school - and i became a girl who chose not to have an abortion.
Immediately following those days and life altering months that made up the first half of 1996, i attempted as a young woman in my twenties to distance myself from the foolish girl who kept the journal full of confusion, timidity - and just the smallest bit of grit.
Honestly? i've judged that girl... and i've judged her harshly.
And now - i feel the older woman in me murmur comfortingly, "She wasn't so bad... she was young, foolish, hurting, insecure and scared. Don't be afraid of her - she's a part of you - learn from her."
And i crack the cover - the tears spill over - and i'm ready to read ancient unread words. Swirly immature handwriting covers each page - most of it makes me impatient and mortified... but some of it makes me shush the hater inside and title this blog post, "courage"...
********************
PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
"i never wanted to be famous, i only wanted to be great." Ray Charles
"An object in possession seldom retains the same charm that it had in pursuit." - pliny the younger
A description of beauty: in the eye of the beholder, self-control, happiness, dainty, gentleness, purity, meekness, honesty, love, fleeting, skin-deep, love, goodness, hope, worker...
It has, written in tidy black ink in the top right hand corner, the address of my first apartment - and a name: miss. retha paige sloan - 1996.
It belonged to a girl i hardly ever think about because my memories are so conflicted. My eyes are tearing up and my cheeks are burning with that smouldering shame just picking it up again.
i don't read it.
A few women have told me about their abortions in the past little while.
Their stories moved me - and even days later, i wonder at their courage in sharing honestly from their hurting chapters. There is beauty in honesty after all - and theirs shakes me from my comfortable middle class mama role - and knocks me back in time to when i was 19 in my second year of music school - and i became a girl who chose not to have an abortion.
Immediately following those days and life altering months that made up the first half of 1996, i attempted as a young woman in my twenties to distance myself from the foolish girl who kept the journal full of confusion, timidity - and just the smallest bit of grit.
Honestly? i've judged that girl... and i've judged her harshly.
And now - i feel the older woman in me murmur comfortingly, "She wasn't so bad... she was young, foolish, hurting, insecure and scared. Don't be afraid of her - she's a part of you - learn from her."
And i crack the cover - the tears spill over - and i'm ready to read ancient unread words. Swirly immature handwriting covers each page - most of it makes me impatient and mortified... but some of it makes me shush the hater inside and title this blog post, "courage"...
********************
PART 2
PART 3
PART 4
PART 5
PART 6
Thursday, September 20, 2012
i'm thinking about
i read THIS and THIS this morning and i'm thinking about adding my story.
i'm not crazy proud of a lot of chapters in my life... and this is one of them... i know i've been honest on here about where i've been - and the preciousness of life - but i'd like to share more about what it was like for me with deadlines looming, the future spinning, shame attacking and a diploma on the line...
Those were some crazy soul stretching months...
i'm not crazy proud of a lot of chapters in my life... and this is one of them... i know i've been honest on here about where i've been - and the preciousness of life - but i'd like to share more about what it was like for me with deadlines looming, the future spinning, shame attacking and a diploma on the line...
Those were some crazy soul stretching months...
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
The Story of my Conversion
i was 4.
Maybe 5.
i think that's about right, because i remember the house that we lived in, right around the time i was in kindergarten.
My sister Jessica, was my constant companion, my "key thing buddy", my playground protector & my teacher in the ways of the world. Only 19 months my senior and very tiny for her age, so quite likely smaller than me at that point, she was larger than life in my little world. She was 2 years ahead of me in school & along with my older sister Steph, she was already fluent in French, wise beyond belief, and incapable of doing wrong. In my eyes - my sisters were Queens to be revered and adored... & adore them i did.
My memories of them in childhood seem to get all bungled up & it's hard to remember exactly the stories and circumstances that have become so foggy with time... but some things stick out...
i remember Jessica teaching me how to skip on the way to kindergarten on a day when they were off school. That same day she taught me to whistle. Every single day from then on, i skipped and whistled all the way to kindergarten until the snow got too deep. i remember her sneaking me a piece of hubba bubba when i was crying in my room because my cat got run over. i remember her trading crafts with me because i wrecked mine - & then trading me back once she had fixed mine & i decided i liked it better after all. i remember all manner of forts, imaginary castles & clubhouses, faerie ponds and toques...
But i also remember the day we were hiding out together & she told me i needed to ask Jesus into my heart. i don't remember exactly what she said - or how we prayed... but i do remember her holding my tiny hands in her tinier ones & praying with me as i began the most important relationship i would ever have.
i have always remembered that moment as the moment that i "became a Christian". & i know - it sounds like a childish story... but isn't it beautiful that in those moments of simplicity - a truth was told to a small child - the smallest amount of faith was found - & my life was changed?
The words that we prayed were something like this,
"God, i know i'm a sinner... (how true this was, i probably didn't even know then...) i know that you sent your Son to die on the cross to save me. Please forgive me, and come into my heart to stay. i love you."
Over the years, i've never stopped looking up to my sisters & loving my Saviour.
No... my sisters weren't perfect... & yeh, i found out that they could actually do wrong... but ultimately their lives point to a Father who loves them & has forgiven them & who is shaping & molding them, just like He is me.
Maybe 5.
i think that's about right, because i remember the house that we lived in, right around the time i was in kindergarten.
My sister Jessica, was my constant companion, my "key thing buddy", my playground protector & my teacher in the ways of the world. Only 19 months my senior and very tiny for her age, so quite likely smaller than me at that point, she was larger than life in my little world. She was 2 years ahead of me in school & along with my older sister Steph, she was already fluent in French, wise beyond belief, and incapable of doing wrong. In my eyes - my sisters were Queens to be revered and adored... & adore them i did.
My memories of them in childhood seem to get all bungled up & it's hard to remember exactly the stories and circumstances that have become so foggy with time... but some things stick out...
i remember Jessica teaching me how to skip on the way to kindergarten on a day when they were off school. That same day she taught me to whistle. Every single day from then on, i skipped and whistled all the way to kindergarten until the snow got too deep. i remember her sneaking me a piece of hubba bubba when i was crying in my room because my cat got run over. i remember her trading crafts with me because i wrecked mine - & then trading me back once she had fixed mine & i decided i liked it better after all. i remember all manner of forts, imaginary castles & clubhouses, faerie ponds and toques...
But i also remember the day we were hiding out together & she told me i needed to ask Jesus into my heart. i don't remember exactly what she said - or how we prayed... but i do remember her holding my tiny hands in her tinier ones & praying with me as i began the most important relationship i would ever have.
i have always remembered that moment as the moment that i "became a Christian". & i know - it sounds like a childish story... but isn't it beautiful that in those moments of simplicity - a truth was told to a small child - the smallest amount of faith was found - & my life was changed?
The words that we prayed were something like this,
"God, i know i'm a sinner... (how true this was, i probably didn't even know then...) i know that you sent your Son to die on the cross to save me. Please forgive me, and come into my heart to stay. i love you."
Over the years, i've never stopped looking up to my sisters & loving my Saviour.
No... my sisters weren't perfect... & yeh, i found out that they could actually do wrong... but ultimately their lives point to a Father who loves them & has forgiven them & who is shaping & molding them, just like He is me.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
More Dates & Grace
Neil bought a dvd player for our room. i hate watching movies in the basement & we haven't watched a movie together in forever. Last night, he rented Juno 'cause i've wanted to see it since it came out...
So, we got to watch in comfort...
Eating cheesies & sharing a Jones soda.
i had to turn off my lamp so he wouldn't make fun of me when i cried. Some of the scenes were a little close to home.
One that comes to mind...
When Juno tells her dad that she's pregnant & he says (something to the effect of), "i thought you were the type of girl who knew when to say when."
& she looks back at him & says, "i don't know what type of girl i am."
i remember exactly... *exactly* how i felt when i was 19 (3 years older than the character in the movie ~ which is centuries when you're a teenager...) with no wedding ring on my finger, living far away from the one i loved, trying to finish school & not tell anyone why my pants quit fitting. i remember feeling some things for sure - that me & this little baby were a team. From the moment i knew she was there... i sought out every bit of information i could. i memorized what parts of her were developing and i remember where i was the first time i felt her kick.
i remember discovering that even though i didn't know what type of girl i was... i knew the kind of God i served.
& His Grace was sufficient.
So, we got to watch in comfort...
Eating cheesies & sharing a Jones soda.
i had to turn off my lamp so he wouldn't make fun of me when i cried. Some of the scenes were a little close to home.
One that comes to mind...
When Juno tells her dad that she's pregnant & he says (something to the effect of), "i thought you were the type of girl who knew when to say when."
& she looks back at him & says, "i don't know what type of girl i am."
i remember exactly... *exactly* how i felt when i was 19 (3 years older than the character in the movie ~ which is centuries when you're a teenager...) with no wedding ring on my finger, living far away from the one i loved, trying to finish school & not tell anyone why my pants quit fitting. i remember feeling some things for sure - that me & this little baby were a team. From the moment i knew she was there... i sought out every bit of information i could. i memorized what parts of her were developing and i remember where i was the first time i felt her kick.
i remember discovering that even though i didn't know what type of girl i was... i knew the kind of God i served.
& His Grace was sufficient.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
My Testimony
So, i was remembering something today & it was sticking with me & i was having trouble thinking through as a whole, the thought that i was having... so, i phoned my sister... & i thought i'd blog about it...
i remember when i found myself a pregnant, unmarried 19 year old ~ being told by a few people that i had 'ruined my testimony'... i was genuinely repentant & knew i had done wrong, but could picture God, with His blocks scattered *by me* throwing up His hands in despair because i had ruined my 'testimony'...
What is my *testimony* anyway?
i have no doubt that i damaged my reputation ~ & disappointed my parents, & let's call a spade a spade : i sinned.
But today, when i was thinking about testimony, i kept thinking that really; any and all good things that i have done or accomplished ~ are from Him. There is nothing about me that is 'boast-worthy' (gal 6:14). Jesus paid it all. My testimony ~ before my pregnancy, as well as after it, is simply this: Saved by grace.
i think i've often earmarked that era of my life... (will it make you blush if i write that *hour* of my life?) All that happened before it being, to me, tainted by what happened in that hour. All the times i had shared my faith ~ or lived out my faith ~ ruined... unusable for God. The right choices so outweighed by that moment of weakness & my inability to choose 'better'. i remember awhile ago, blogging about that professor who laid down his own life for his students during the Virginia Tech massacre & thinking, 'but i'm not made of that Good stuff... i couldn't make a choice like that on instinct... see? i have my ruined testimony to prove it...'
As i watch my girls grow, i think i'm starting to look back on the girl i was then & i find my remberings *harsh*... i remember all the negatives... i was often late, forgetful, thoughtless... & i think, 'ah, yes, but then, after i got married, *then* God began to do His work in me...' ~ but it's simply untrue. i had committed my life to Him when i was a little child. He was a faithful Father to me through all the years of my childhood... & even through the days & weeks that led up to that earmarked era of my life. He began His work far before i began to see the fruit of His labour... & now that i'm older & i think i'm starting to soften to that little hurting girl that i was... i can see that i had a heart that longed to please Him. i can see that even though i chose badly, & i ruined my reputation... i loved him, i believed in Him & i never lost what is most precious to me: the knowledge that God is Good ~ & that He loves me... very, very much. He wasn't finished yet. My testimony is incomplete ~ not ruined ~ a work in progress... Jesus saves... How can a testimony about *Him* be ruined? All of it~ the story of my life, the good, the bad... all of it can do nothing but tell the truth: There is a God & He is Good.
& then there is the verse, (rom.6:1) "What shall we say then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer? "
Just because God can & does work through & use our failings to bring himself Glory ~ doesn't mean that i have any desire to continue in sin. i want to show Him i love Him by living my life more like Jesus... i want to continue to grow & bear good fruit. i want to be known as a follower of Christ because i show His love...
Jesus loves me, this i know ~
for the bible tells me so ~
little ones to Him belong ~
They are weak... but He is strong.
God, continue to shape me... Make me more like you. Make it my instinct to choose Good. May my testimony bring You Glory.
i remember when i found myself a pregnant, unmarried 19 year old ~ being told by a few people that i had 'ruined my testimony'... i was genuinely repentant & knew i had done wrong, but could picture God, with His blocks scattered *by me* throwing up His hands in despair because i had ruined my 'testimony'...
What is my *testimony* anyway?
i have no doubt that i damaged my reputation ~ & disappointed my parents, & let's call a spade a spade : i sinned.
But today, when i was thinking about testimony, i kept thinking that really; any and all good things that i have done or accomplished ~ are from Him. There is nothing about me that is 'boast-worthy' (gal 6:14). Jesus paid it all. My testimony ~ before my pregnancy, as well as after it, is simply this: Saved by grace.
i think i've often earmarked that era of my life... (will it make you blush if i write that *hour* of my life?) All that happened before it being, to me, tainted by what happened in that hour. All the times i had shared my faith ~ or lived out my faith ~ ruined... unusable for God. The right choices so outweighed by that moment of weakness & my inability to choose 'better'. i remember awhile ago, blogging about that professor who laid down his own life for his students during the Virginia Tech massacre & thinking, 'but i'm not made of that Good stuff... i couldn't make a choice like that on instinct... see? i have my ruined testimony to prove it...'
As i watch my girls grow, i think i'm starting to look back on the girl i was then & i find my remberings *harsh*... i remember all the negatives... i was often late, forgetful, thoughtless... & i think, 'ah, yes, but then, after i got married, *then* God began to do His work in me...' ~ but it's simply untrue. i had committed my life to Him when i was a little child. He was a faithful Father to me through all the years of my childhood... & even through the days & weeks that led up to that earmarked era of my life. He began His work far before i began to see the fruit of His labour... & now that i'm older & i think i'm starting to soften to that little hurting girl that i was... i can see that i had a heart that longed to please Him. i can see that even though i chose badly, & i ruined my reputation... i loved him, i believed in Him & i never lost what is most precious to me: the knowledge that God is Good ~ & that He loves me... very, very much. He wasn't finished yet. My testimony is incomplete ~ not ruined ~ a work in progress... Jesus saves... How can a testimony about *Him* be ruined? All of it~ the story of my life, the good, the bad... all of it can do nothing but tell the truth: There is a God & He is Good.
& then there is the verse, (rom.6:1) "What shall we say then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer? "
Just because God can & does work through & use our failings to bring himself Glory ~ doesn't mean that i have any desire to continue in sin. i want to show Him i love Him by living my life more like Jesus... i want to continue to grow & bear good fruit. i want to be known as a follower of Christ because i show His love...
Jesus loves me, this i know ~
for the bible tells me so ~
little ones to Him belong ~
They are weak... but He is strong.
God, continue to shape me... Make me more like you. Make it my instinct to choose Good. May my testimony bring You Glory.
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