Endurance

Some days it's easier to dig into the Word than others. Some days I can't get through a chapter without it ripping me to shreds. Today was one of those days.

During the girls nap I sat down with Eamon's bible. Lily & Norah had been fighting all morning, I'd been on the phone taking care of various business matters, impatiently waiting to hear back from a leasing department about an apartment... It had been a rough one. I chose joy ever minute of the day, but it was exhausting.

Eamon had mentioned (while I was glued to my mom's tv, waiting for the Prince & Dutchess to show off the new babe) that the royal fam was conaidering one of "his" boy names, "James". (oh no they di'ent) so I flipped over to James to see what the Lord inspired this Saint to write.

" 2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces endurance. 4 Let endurance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. 5 If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God,who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.6 But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. 7 That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. 8 Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do.
9 Believers in humble circumstances ought to take pride in their high position.10 But the rich should take pride in their humiliation—since they will pass away like a wild flower. 11 For the sun rises with scorching heat and withers the plant; its blossom falls and its beauty is destroyed. In the same way, the rich will fade away even while they go about their business.
12 Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him."

Line by line, a painful blow that broke through to some long sought after clarity. I've read James... I don't know how many times, but today my heart felt something new.
My stubborness and unwillingness to take joy in our circumatances finally stung. I reflected on the dozens of times where friends or family have said "Wow, that's gotta be rough" and my reaction was "rough... ROUGH?!You're freakin kidding me, right? Betrayal by your father leaving you and your family of five, FIVE, living in your MIL'S craft room without a penny to your name, praying that you can get into a 950 sq ft, 2 bedroom appartment in government housing when you had a cute house with a yard and happy little life... Yeah. ROUGH's the word. Bitch." I didn't ever actually call anyone a bitch... I just felt like that should be there...
^That, my friends, is the response of a heart who has not let Endurance do it's work. Who has yet to see the fruits of Maturity.
"Oh, Lord, forgive that heart. Break it more, rip it away, help me LET. THIS. GO."
And then immediate affirmation of receiving no answers... My doubt. My ever reoccuring, pitiful, unfounded doubt. I thought about the seaweed that washes up at Padre Island. The waves bring it to shore from the depths of the Gulf. Before it is beached, it's tossed from surf, to sand over and over, incapable of controlling which direction it will take. To the shore if the wind is angry enough to blow it there, or back out to sea if the tide decides to reclaim what is her's. The seaweed cares not. It goes as it's surroundings dictate.

I got to verse 9 and remembered my plea to Jesus in the monthals preceeding Phoebe'a birth, begging him to strip me of my wants, my need of THINGS, my love.of my possessions, and then remembered crying at Eamon over the fact that our STUFF was too big and too much for an apartment and too "important" to let go of. I could only hang my head and shake it. My own greed, filling me with ugly pride.

And verse 12... A prayer answered.
I have been fighting bitterness over Phoebe's birth for months. "Why so long, Jesus? Why didn't you show up sooner? Why didn't you "redeem" Norah's birth? Why couldn't I have a normal "third time mom" birth?"
It has become very, very clear to me God has done for me, ever so sweetly, in my births. Lily's- cake. Lily's labor and birth could not have been hard, or fear inducing, if it were, I wouldn't have had the confidence *or endurance* to make it through 8 hours of painful transition with Norah. And now I truly believe that I made it through Phoebe's day long non progression because I knew that it was nothing compared to my pain with Norah and that Jesus WAS there, and she would come. I had two births worth of endurance under my belt to get me through it. Thank you, Jesus, for building that endurance in me, and for the lives of my sweet girls that it produced.

In truth, endurance scares me. It gaurantees that fruitful maturity is being grown, yes, but also that there is even more on the horizon. But in these past few weeks and months of trial, and having a hard time finding where God's promise is in all of this- I will cling to this:
"...that person will receive the crown of Life that the Lord has promised to those who love him."

I love Him, and I will take that crown for me and my house.

XO,
Mae

Doubt

I don't know how to write all of this out honestly and put a happy "I'm such a good Christian" spin on it all. So I won't. This is my heart today. It hurts, it's tired, it's impatient.

I prayed from the night we got pregnant with Phoebe that she wouldn't have allergies.
So far she is allergic to dairy, eggs, and gluten.
I prayed almost as long that she would have a less difficult labor than Norah.
No such luck.
We have now been in Rockport for two months instead of one week without a home. Any glimmer of "opportunity" here being long deminished.

Today (and the last few days) I feel that prayer is useless.

I feel like we have just screwed ourselves over by coming here. Like years of damage control are ahead of us.

I feel like my friends who are far away are sick of hearing my sob story and I wish I had a real friend here.

Every house we've found we haven't been able to get bc we don't have money for a deposit.
And those are few and far between because it's summer in a beach town which means that every vacancy is immediately filled.

Lily needs tons more attention.
Norah's skin is out of control. I wish I had somewhere to just keep her safe.
Phoebe is having trouble nursing and pooping.
Eamon's doing all that he can and more to make us some money.

I read Prov 31 again this morning, bc it usually recharges me, but when I came to verse 25
"She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come."
I felt... slapped. The only laughter I have for our situation is that of disbelief.
I have no strength left. I can't say I'm very dignified at this point, either.

I have a horrible attitude for my friends and family asking for prayer.
"Oh...your son got a bug bite... sorry? My kid scratches all day every day of her life. And no. She's not 'used to it' "
"Your baby is having a hard time nursing? Just take him to one of the millions of chiros on your street."
"Had a rough day? Just get one of your dozens of friends to bring you your favorite wine."

What. A. Bitch.
AmIright?!

I don't recognize this person. Crying all of the time, paying little attention to her kids, a peice of crap friend. Hopeless.

I am ready to be done with this part of my life, God. I know You're still there. I know You can do this. Please. Just do this.

Tomorrow Will Worry About Itself

Yesterday marked the sixth week that we've been in Rockport.

Some days are worse than others (like today). I'm torn between falling on my knees, thanking the Lord for His protection and storming into town to light my father in law's house on fire, 'less I take my anger out on my God.

The house we were going to move into- wasn't actually an option. When confronted about this, Eamon's dad made it clear we needed to leave his brother's house (where we were staying, which he owns) leaving us & our three girls without a dime to our name (bc we had used all our funds to get down here & then worked on the house for a month sun up to sun down instead of working) and without a home.
Luckily, my family is here too. We have been staying in my old room at my parents house. The Lord gave Eamon a job as soon as we were kicked out which was amazing.

The first day we were here I bought year passes to all of the beaches in the area, so as long as we have gas we can go to the beach whenever we want. Friends & family have helped us feed all these hungry mouths. My mama's been there to let me cry on her shoulder and tell me how she survived her "homeless with three girls" (and she had one more on the way!) period of her life. For a week we were terrified they were going to lose their home too, but we got to watch as God protected them.

Things could be a lot worse, and I mean A LOT worse, but when you've got PPD (third time's a charm, right?!) and you've been through so much in six weeks, things start becoming harder and harder to deal with.

Like when I remember all of the adorable newborn clothes I had for Phoebe but she can't wear them because she already outgrew them and I have them packed away in storage bc I only had one week of clothes packed bc that's how long we were supposed to be staying with family...
Or when I think about all the amazing things I was going to do with her "this time around because now I know everything about newborns" but I can't because everything we own is packed away...
Or when Lily exclaims "I can't wait to sleep in my big girl bed in the new traylor!" because she saw Eamon work every day on it and I have to sit and explain to her (again) that not only did we leave her bed in Hurst bc we couldn't afford a bigger truck to bring it in last minute, but we also won't be moving into that traylor because Grandpa doesn't want us to...
Or when Norah is so overwhelmed... So overwhelmed that all she can do is scratch her legs til they bleed because her little world is turned upside down. First mama has a new baby, then she moves in with her uncle, then she moves in with her grandma...
Or when Lily talks to her imaginary friend Chocky Mocky on the phone and tells him "No, we can't ever see Henry or Ruby Kate or Hazel ever again because Fort Worth is too far away"...
Or when Eamon and I argue  because I'd rather save our money for a deposit on a house instead of my stupid PPD supplements...

Or any of the other thousands of tiny things that make me question what type of man seduces his son & his family away from all they know and love only to throw them on the street.

Not my God.

My God led us here with confidence.
My God has kept us out of the heat.
He has kept all of our bellies full.
He has given my girls clothes to keep them dressed and adorable.
He has washed my sweet Norahs skin with His gentle, salty hands of waves, meeting her at the shorline each time she goes to the beach.

He has reminded me, as I was starring down at my sweet 9 week old babe, to just rest in Him. To allow Him to nourish me, body & soul, exhale and sink deep into His embrace.
Phoebe loves me. I don't ask her to, and she can't verbalize it, but I know she does. She cries out to me when she's hungry or cold, trusts and allows me to take care of her, and then completely surrenders all of her weight into my arms, fulfilled.
Lord, I beg of you, LET ME LOVE YOU LIKE THAT!

Matthew 6:25-34
" 25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worryabout your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."