Pregnancy has been unlike anything I’ve ever experience. I have been nauseous and exhausted – a special kind of tired that I didn’t even know existed. I have laughed just because and cried for the same reason. My body is actively uncomfortable and at this point – 8 months in – it takes me an extra few seconds to get off the sofa, or out of bed, or anything else that requires standing.
Partnering with my body changing physically, my emotions are unpredictable. The emotional roller coaster is increasingly impossible to control. I’ve mostly gotten a pass because I’m pregnant. People are very forgiving to the pregnant lady when she says something inappropriate or not very kind (although, I had a problem being a little lippy before, that’s beside the point). I continue to remind myself that pregnancy is not an excuse.
Pregnancy is not an excuse for being rude to people. It’s not an excuse for allowing sin to slowly creep into my life and take over any part. That has been my struggle. Those little secrets that I don’t think anyone will care about or notice. God sees them. He knows. Giving in to the distractions instead of leaning into the Lord, that has been my problem. I tell myself that it’s because I’m pregnant. That once I’m holding my little Foxes in my arms and not just in my belly that it will be all the easier, but that’s just a lie that choose to believe.
Admitting that is difficult. I have a choice to keep lying to myself or to look at my life through the eyes of the Truth. It’s a stressful task. But an enlightening one. Feeling the weight of personal sin during this time reminds me of my absolute need of a Savior. My Christian sisters are an asset in my life. They are a safe place to go to say the words, “I have let myself go.” They remind me that I don’t achieve righteousness through myself. They remind me that I am in desperate need of my Lord and my God. He forgives. He gives hope. He is trustworthy.
I forget that I am the worst sinner I know. I forget that I am the one who needs a Savior. Sin and self-lies have been a terribly awesome reminder of who I am in Christ and who I am with others. But maybe that’s a post for another day.
Can you hear that little ones?
It’s loud and scary. People are rioting. They are protesting. They are crying out for help. Buildings are being set on fire. Roads are blocked. Picket signs are held high as protesters chant. The news is showing violence. The president rambles. So much devastation. So much confusion. Guns are being fired. People are being arrested. Americans are trying to be heard.
Listen more closely little ones. Can you hear it?
It’s the sound of division. Everyone is taking a side. They are crying out on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram. They are arguing and attacking one another. They are forgetting that they are all the human race, because someone else forgot before them.
But listen even more closely. Can you hear it? Lean in little ones. I feel you moving, I know that you can hear it.
It’s the sound of hearts breaking.
Confused, scared hearts that are trying to make sense of the madness. We can’t be sure who is right and who isn’t. We weren’t there when that boy was shot. Or the other one. Or the other one. Or the many others. We live in a place of obvious and devastating brokenness.
You’re about to enter this world, little ones. Right now it’s just a sound, but soon it will be where you must navigate. I pray that we can teach you how to deal with these situations. I pray that you would learn to lean on Jesus. I pray that you would know that He is bigger than the confusion. I pray that the brokenness would not crush you. I pray that your hearts would break for others, but never be crushed. It will lead you astray – I’m praying that your heart will not be your guide. But instead that you would put it in the hands of Jesus. It won’t be easy. You’ll feel the urge to pick a side. You can be sad for others and still filled with joy. You can stand firm on principles and not be hateful. You can picket or not. You can cry or have dry eyes. However you two choose and move, I pray that you follow the only One who can lead you perfectly in this madness.
Honestly, little ones, I’m scared for you. I’m afraid of being responsible for showing you how to navigate this world. Your daddy and I will love you and pray for you and teach you what we know. We’ve been trying to figure this place out for many years. We’ll be less than perfectly guiding you through this. We will lean on the same Jesus that we pray that you will rely on – especially during this kind of insanity.
My dear little babies, still safe inside my womb. I feel you kicking and moving. I know that it’s because you can hear it. But when you are afraid, trust in the Lord.