UNDER CONSTRUCTION @mistycoy - Tumblr Blog

Middle of the night musings

My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus blood and righteousness. I dare not trust the sweetest frame but wholly lean on Jesus name. On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand. All other ground is sinking sand.

I will sing this in the good times. I will sing this in the bad times. I will sing it at church on Sunday morning and on the floor in my bedroom at 2:38 am. No matter what I may face, it is never too big for Him!

As I watched Jed during his therapy session today, I noticed how hard he was working. He was grunting and wincing and squirming and rolling through the whole session. He would fight hard to remain in a certain position, then he would fall down. Over and over again I watched him try and triumph. But none of it was easy. That's for certain.

I often feel unequipped for the battles I face. Sometimes the road before me looks overwhelming. Sometimes I don’t see a way out. But I serve a God who knows me to the core. The same One for who spoke the heavens into place formed me in my mother’s womb. He sees me falling over and over again like my sweet little Jed sometimes does. But he gives me the strength to keep going. He points me in the right direction if I cling to him and don’t let go.

Whatever I may face, I needn’t fret because the battle belongs to the Lord. He sees the silent and dark crevices of my heart that ache and he leads me to his light and truth.

He is good, he is able and that is ALL I need to know.

Glimpses

Earlier this year, just before COVID took the world by storm, a friend of mine invited me to a local high school production of HELLO DOLLY! Being a theater nerd who is obsessed with all things Barbra Streisand, I hopped right on that band wagon. The production was beautifully done and took me back to my performing arts school days in Orange County, California.

The students in this production were talented, beautiful and fearless. I could tell that, much like the kids I worked with in high school, they were the best and the brightest in their class...classic overachievers with big goals for their lives. Theater always seems to attract the dreamers of every generation.

About midway through the show, just before intermission, there was a HUGE production number where all of the students were on stage together. It took everything in me not to sing along at full volume but I zipped my lips and sat on my hands. In the second or third row of a perfectly constructed and choreographed line-up, I caught a glimpse of a young girl who was different than the others.

She had Down Syndrome.

I was excited to see her up on the stage. What joy I felt knowing this girl must have had a support system that encouraged her to audition for a production like this. I was also relieved that the director was inclusive and cast her in the show. I could see her carefully retrieving the dance steps and blocking in her head but I also noticed that she was truly enjoying herself. She wanted to be up there and she was doing a really great job.

The very next day I received the call about our Jed..that HE would most likely have Down Syndrome. How quickly my attitude changed. Instantaneously, I felt fear and trepedation. What would this mean for me...for us, as a family? Would he ever do anything on his own? Would I ever be able to perform again? Question after question, fear after fear, the beauty of that young girl on the stage faded into the background and all I could see was darkness.

A few weeks later, when I had had some time to process, pray and gather a bit of courage from an online support group, a memory from my childhood emerged. Every single week I watched a show called, LIFE GOES ON. One of the lead characters in that show had Down Syndrome. I decided to look up a few clips on YOUTUBE to jog my memory and up popped a video of Patti LuPone (who played the mother on the show) being reunited with the actors who played her children. In this reunion interview, Patti (who is widely known to be a critical diva) was praising the actor with Down Syndrome. She said he was an "Angel on earth," which I had heard many times. But what I hadn't heard before was how hard working, bright and tenacious he had been. She said that every year he surpassed her expectations and became a real "pro."

This was the first time I realized the bias I had in my heart towards people with disabilities. Yes, there are inevitably some challenges that they will face. However, I'm seeing and learning from people entirely more evolved than I, that the sky is the limit. There should not be a cap placed on what people with disabilities can do. They are miracles in the making.

I cried some big tears when I realized that God had given and WAS GIVING me glimpses of greatness throughout the Down Syndrome community. Before I even knew anything about Jed, I was seeing beautiful pictures of triumph in a section of our community which often conjures feelings of sadness or pity from those on the outside. Those who cannot understand the joy in a foreign land to which they have not traveled. What a gift God gave me to break down boundaries in my own heart by showing me these precious young people in my own Industry, doing a fantastic job!

As I sit, clacking on my computer, gazing upon my beautiful boy asleep in his bassinet, I see possibility with a capital "P." There are no rules for this journey. It's an open landscape with many paths to walk down, many of which may be turbulent and bumpy. But as I take a glimpse down those paths, lost in my son's beautiful and soulful eyes, I don't see darkness. I see only light. The light of my Savior who will be with me, who will guide me and who will bless the journey in unimaginable ways.

If you have doubts about that, I will quote the great Dolly Levi and say, "You go your way and I'll go mine!"

Chasing Hurricanes

Tuesday, August 4, 2020.

I soaked his face with my tears as I whispered, "I love you" over and over again. I reluctantly lowered myself into the wheelchair and cried the entire time Braden pushed me down the long, empty hallway. Leaving the NICU that first day felt like leaving my own heart behind, to beat on it's own. I wanted to leap out of the wheelchair and run back to my son. I probably would have if the pain from surgery hadn't prevented me from doing so.

Braden and I rode in silence the entire way back home. As we pulled up into our driveway, the one ray of sunshine ahead was knowing that my Clay Bae was waiting for us inside. Hugging him was equal parts soothing and painful because I desperately wanted him to meet his little brother.

Shortly after Braden put Clay down for his nap, I focused on what I COULD do. The powerlessness and helplessness I felt was palpable and I wanted to empower myself to do something. That ONE THING was pumping milk to take the next time we went to see Jed in the NICU. Just as I was plugging in the machine, there was a flash of light and all the power went out.

Oh yeah...hurricane Isaias was supposed to be hitting NJ at any time. Up until that moment, it seemed like the least of our worries

This was one of those "SNAPPED" moments. If you have ever seen that show on the OXYGEN channel, you'll know what I mean. It tells true stories about women who reach a point of no return, they "snap" and commit a crime. That is how I felt in this moment. I felt like every possible thing was out of my control and I could punch something or someone.

I instantly called our friend who has been regularly watching Clay. She had just left our house and told us to call her if the power went out because she had a generator. About a half hour later, she was on our doorstep, the wind and the rain thrashing around her. She told us it was really bad outside and that we all better pack up and head to her house if we wanted to get there at all.

As we drove through the wind and the rain, I laughed through fear. Most people would call me insane for leaving my house when you are supposed to buckle down...and I probably was. But all I could think was, "Not even a hurricane will keep me from doing what I can to protect my baby. He needs my milk and I will make it for him, come hell or high water (literally). For whatever reason, my old pump (we have a new one, now) does not have a battery option and I needed power. So, I went to a place with power, thanks to my guardian angel- Kathy.

This whole scenario has me thinking about the journey that lies ahead of us. There will inevitably be a lot of bumps along the way as we raise a child with special needs. I'm sure there will be moments when I feel like throwing in the towel and not fighting so hard. But if there is one thing that day showed me, it's that I will go to the ends of the earth and chase hurricanes to do what needs to be done for my boy. That is the fierce love of a mother.

I'm grateful that I have tasted what love is all about through Jesus. I'm grateful that I don't have to do it on my own. I'm grateful that God knows first hand about sacrificial love. I'm grateful that, for some reason, He has entrusted this angel to me. I will keep on fighting.

A dam of tears

Back in March, when I first received Jedidiah's 9/10 chance of having down syndrome, the tears flowed for many days. The shock, the fear of the unknown, the potential health issues and so many other emotions overtook me and I could not put a break on the tears no matter how I tried. Then, slowly, the tears calmed and so did my nerves. Despite going to tons of high risk doctor visits in the midst of COVID without my husband, I began to have relatively uneventful appointments. I started to trust that things were in the hands of the Lord.

Fast forward the clock five months to THIS very day. I went to what I thought would be my last growth scan with a full face of make-up, hair done and a spring in my step. I really felt like this would be the last, BIG hoorah before Jedidiah's grand, scheduled entrance next week. The appointment was BIG, indeed, but not the celebration in which I'd hoped and prayed.

Instead, the doctor told me that Jed had slipped from the 40th percentile for weight down to below the 10th. At 38 weeks gestation, my sweet boy is looking to be around four pounds, five ounces. I listened to the doctor explain to me that the heart rate was good, the oxygen levels seemed right and the fluid levels were where they need to be. BUT, his cord flow is elevated (with some explanation I couldn't understand) and they want to keep on eye on him to possibly bump the delivery up to early next week. He does not appear to be thriving.

I listened intently, practically holding my breath as BOTH of my doctors explained the facts in two different appointments. I did not want to miss a word they said and I asked a lot of questions. I held it together, I remained cool, calm and collected and I kept the tears at bay in the office, down the elevator and all the way out to the parking lot. Then came the moment when I shut my car door...

A dam of tears.

I couldn't stop them. They came like floods. I shook so hard I could feel my car moving. I screamed at God, "WHY IS THIS HAPPENING??? Have I been eating all the wrong things? Did I make the wrong choice to have a baby so late in life? Am I setting my poor baby up for failure to thrive in every aspect of his upcoming life? Will he have a life? WHY, GOD? Why me? Why HIM?? Why does my precious Jed have to have so many complications before he has even seen the light of day? It's not fair!"

Everything I have held together for months, every nightmare I've had in the dead of night and every bad thought that has run through my mind, came colliding together like a bad car crash. Aside from the moment I heard about Jedidiah's high risk for down syndrome, I have never felt more broken or powerless.

The dam of tears has continued throughout the day. That painful headache that comes from crunching your forehead together is persisting and tylenol has not relieved it. I'm tired and weary. I want to say something really inspiring and light to lift the heaviness of this post. But my heart and my flesh fail me in this moment. It's a good thing I have the word of God to turn to in times like these.

Psalm 34:18-19 says, "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all."

AMEN.

Perfect brokenness

Have you ever broken a piece of pottery and tried to glue it back together? If the break is clean enough it's easy enough to accomplish. It's only when the pieces are shattered that it's difficult to reassemble. However, even if the break is clean and precise, there will always be a bit of a mark where it all came undone. Sometimes the scar is not visible at first glance but it's definitely there, under the surface.

In my eighth month of pregnancy, I've been thinking a lot about brokenness. Broken dreams, broken plans, broken expectations. There have been a few times in my life where things have gone according to how I planned them but mostly I've experienced major redirection. Detours are not my favorite. They are often bumpy, out of the way and inconvenient. However, they almost always help you arrive to where you need to be.

I have many friends who are also pregnant during this pandemic. Most of them are around the same age and have had some similar experiences in life, up to now. All of us are trying to navigate the uncharted territory of COVID while carrying our little bundles. It has not been easy on any of us. One by one, these friends of mine are having their babies and their perfect announcements are popping up all over social media.

My heart is both joyous and grieved by these proclamations. I'm over-the-moon happy for the safe arrival of their children and I'm also painfully aware that my story will most likely be very different. GOOD and BLESSED...but different. I don't know what lies around a single corner. The ultrasounds and tests have gone well since the 9/10 percentage of down syndrome was given to me back in March, but there is really no way of predicting what Jed will face. So much has to be determined after birth.

Maybe it's because I was raised watching Disney movies or because I've always had the most beautiful friends (inside and out) but something in me has always craved perfection. I struggled through high school, college and beyond to get my weight down to what I thought would land me the right role, the right guy or the right dress to hit me in all the right spots. I studied hard to get good grades and I tried to do and say the most clever things in every audition room I entered. Sometimes all this striving actually worked but most of the time, "perfection" fell crazy short of my expectations.

As I stand here in my most vulnerable state, feeling unprepared, overweight, overburdened, overworked, overtired, underpaid and often overwhelmed, I look back on that girl that strove for perfection in all aspects of her life. If I could pay her a visit I would tell her, "Misty, try as you might, that PERFECT thing you are aiming to be will never quite...be...enough. Let go, let God and try to find the perfection in brokenness."

Whether you are enduring a difficult pregnancy, facing a failing marriage, looking for "the next right thing" in your career or your studies, or trying to lose weight to "arrive" to where you've always wanted to be, please pause for a second and explore some thoughts with me:

1) NO ONE has it all together. Facebook and instagram do a great job of making it appear that those around you have all the things they've ever wanted, but there is a hidden story behind every picture. A disease that isn't advertised, a loss that someone can't get over, or the pain of loneliness/depression that nothing seems to help.

2) Even when many of the pieces in people's lives ARE coming together quite cohesively, nothing is EVER guaranteed. The only sure thing in life is that we will all endure loss, pain and suffering. No one is exempt from that. I can be on top of the world one day and on my knees the next. Hasn't the state of our world shown us that these last few months?

3) There is so much beauty in brokenness. Think of your favorite piece of art or a play or song that touched you so deeply you wept. Most of the time our souls are not deeply touched by the perfect things we encounter but by the broken things that have come so beautifully back together. Like a piece of pottery that has been given a second chance to serve it's purpose, we are all living among the broken. And that is beautiful.

4) The part of us that is so longing for perfect beauty and tranquility is, ultimately, the part of us that can only be satisfied by God, Himself. No person or experience can ever be perfect and meet every need. Only God of the universe can do that. Reach out to Him and ask Him to fill those gaps.

In the last few months I have cried more tears than ever before. In so many ways, I am like a muddy puddle after a torrential downpour. There are moments where I feel beyond repair. But those moments always pass and I'm left with the knowledge of a God that is sovereign,loving and merciful. I remember that every single time I have lifted up my arms to be picked up and carried through the dark wood, He has shown up and led me to greener pastures.

Because he is perfect in every way, I can present myself in all my perfect brokennes and know that He ALWAYS restores my soul. Because He lives, I can face tomorrow. I am not alone and the broken pottery pieces of my life continue to make me more interesting and fill me with the strength of knowing I WILL SURVIVE this and anything that comes my way. I need only to admit that I cannot do this life alone.

Everybody hurts

When people are walking through pain and suffering, it's often hard to know what to say or do. Some people, like me, err on the side of overcompensating. I have often tried to fix a situation or attempt to soften the blow for someone. Other people err on the side of silence or ghosting out the struggling party. I venture to say that neither of these routes are going in the right direction.

I recall, just after college, a friend of mine committed suicide. We all went to his mother's home to gather and remember him. We ate, we laughted and we caught up with old friends. At the time, it seemed like a good way to honor his memory. However, my Russian acting teacher was there and, at one point, she burst into tears and shouts of frustration. She said, "Why do Americans flee from pain? This is a horrible thing that happened. Why are we laughing?!"

It was awkward and uncomfortable when she said it and no one knew how to respond...because, it's so very true. It's so much easier to escape or side step the pain. If we aren't trying to avoid, many of us will insert our opinions, insights or "glass half full" commentary in the hopes that it will raise the spirits of the grieving or suffering individual. Once again, in my experience, neither of these tactics work.

Since hearing the potential diagnosis for my son, I have been on the receiving end of all of the aforementioned. Some people try to tell me how blessed I will be and how those with down syndrome are the most loving and caring and happy people. These are the "bright siders." Those who genuinely want me to feel better and say what they think I need to hear. On the other side of the spectrum, some have immediately started to cry or shake their head as though I've told them I'm dying of terminal cancer. Then, there are thos who haven't said anything at all...they've kind of just...disappeared, without a trace. That is the hardest reaction for me but, once again, I've been there...when you truly just don't...know...what...to...say.

Tough times require grace. Grace for oneself, grace for your family and friends and grace for strangers who tend to blurt out the first thing that comes to their head. NO ONE is perfect and NO ONE can be and say and do all the right things all of the time. That's not what this is about.

My reason for writing this is to encourage people not to worry so much about what to say or not say...because, when times are muddy and foggy, words don't do much. They tend to go in one ear and out the other. What remains in the hearts of the suffering individual is the awareness and reminder that they are not alone. No one is exempt from suffering. We will all experience trials in one form or another. As a believer in Jesus, it is my conviction that I am called to walk alongside my brothers and sisters in good times and in bad. I am called to do this even when it is uncomfortable and sticky.

Walking a tough road with someone can take on many forms. It can be a letter in the mail just letting the person know you are thinking of them. It can be cooking a meal for them and just showing up with it. It might be offering to watch their children or letting the person know you said a quick prayer for them. It doesn't have to be a grand overture.

It's always a good reminder to me to just get over myself. When I show up for someone in the midst of struggle, it's just not about me and my comfort level. It's about them. It's not about making myself feel good or wanted or helpful. It's about them. It's not about saying or doing all the right things so I have material for my blog. It's about them.

The more we can collectively get over our own discomfort, the more we can suit up and show up for the sick, suffering, oppressed, mistreated, bullied and underepresented. The more we can stand alongside the outwardly broken, the more we expose our inward brokenness...which ultimately leads us down a path to strength. It seems counter intuitive and strange but our biggest connections can be found in humbling ourselves enough to strip our scales of accomplishment and appearance. We are all one people. Cut us and we bleed.

Let's try to bandage one another up with vulnerability, humility and compassion.

Stand up and make yourself UNcomfortable

Any time I've heard the phrase, "Sit down and make yourself comfortable," it's usually been at a time or place where I'm exceedingly nervous and stressed out about what is on the horizon. I have felt this way at the doctor's office, in waiting rooms to meet someone for a job interview or before I've had to take a very important exam. The phrase has often been used in an effort to help me relax but it tends to get me more amped up and nervous about what is to come. Now, in addition to thinking about what I'm about to face, I'm also supposed to maintain a cool, calm and collected state of being? That's too much pressure!

The fact is, most of us can't stand the idea of ourselves or the people around us being uncomfortable or uneasy for even a millisecond. Think about the last time someone around you engaged in a heated conversation. Did it cause you to feel the need to steer the the dialogue to another topic? How often do we seek to diffuse tense situations with the hope that everything can just become peaceful again?

There is a time and place for peacemaking, for sure. But I think the desire to playcate everyone has more to do with our own insecurities and fears than the people we say we are trying to protect. Somewhere along the way, most of us seem to have adopted this idea that the best kind of life is the carefree life. Free and easy. No muss no fuss. No worries. No sadness. No anger.

But that's not life on life's terms.

I believe wholeheartedly that we have missed a step. A fancy-free exisitence might be the EASIEST option but I venture to say that a life of growth, change and OPEN eyes is the most fulfilling and enriching kind of life we could desire. If we spend all our years trying to skip over the rough patches, we will have missed opportunities and a life exempt of depth.

Our country is in turmoil. Hundreds of years of oppression, unequal balance, discrimination and racism are staring us square in the face begging for a day of reckoning. To those of us who are white, we might be tempted to believe that it has little to do with us and that we have no skin in the game. We would be dead wrong. The people with our skin color created these divisions. Our consitution talks about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness but people of color and women were not included in that original vision. Therefore, this American Dream we are all striving for is based on a distorted set of ideals. The only individuals who could deny that are those who stand to benefit from the skewed system.

If I'm honest, I am the most uncomfortable I have EVER been. I am facing and admitting my white privilege for the first time in my life. I am asking myself the hard questions I never wanted or THOUGHT to ask. I am opening myself up to hear things I would rather not hear and see things I would rather not see. Admitting this now, only shows me how privileged I am to have been able to turn my head for so long.

I am also coming to terms with my own inevitable future. In a month and a half, give or take, our new son has a 90% chance of entering this world with special needs. I never would have guessed in a MILLION years that I would be one of "those" parents. I somehow ejected myself from the possibility that something like this could happen to me. Am I afraid? Yes. Would I rather not have to face this alternative path? At this point...yes. But I very much hope and pray that my perspective will change and I will evolve.

For so many years, I have bought into this idea of status quo. Try to fit in, try to check all the boxes, don't ruffle feathers, work harder, make more, accumulate more...BE...MORE. But now I say,

NO MORE!

A rich, privileged, carefree life is not what I aspire to any longer. I aspire to have open eyes. I long to see reality for what it is and not construct my own reality to make me feel better. I want to be an advocate for those who need a strong voice. I want to lovingly challenge myself and those around me to STAND UP and get UNcomfortable. The time is NOW. The moment for appeasing and staying quiet is over! If we don't stand up for change and equality for ALL life, right now, WHAT ARE WE DOING??

To my Christian brothers and sisters, I believe that Jesus would be marching today. I believe he would be hugging those who are so hurt that their tears have turned into closed fists and blind fury. I believe that he would be confronting the pharisees of our CURRENT nation and exposing their own brokenness and hypocrisy. Who do ANY of us think we are to believe that we have a right to condemn a man who was murdered because of the sins of his past? Let he who is without sin, cast the first stone.

When my precious Jedidiah is older, I am going to tell him that he entered the world in a transformative year. I will tell him that 2020 was the year that his country and his own mom WOKE from their slumber. I will tell him that it was a bloody mess, at times but that REVOLUTION came along with it! I will tell him that black lives matter. I will tell him that, though others may contest his worth because of his extra chromosome, he is EQUAL and beautiful and worthy in the sight of Jesus.

Let's get UNcomfortable together and not settle for the way things have been. We have a higher calling and it will be worth it, in the end, to stand up for what is right.

A call to action: Confessions of a deaf, dumb and blissfully unaware white woman

Something has happened to me over the course of the past few months. Marinating on the fact that my son will most likely be born into a group that is often viewed as "less than" has opened my heart wide open. It is painful and uncomfortable to feel so exposed and raw. There is nothing about the journey I've been on that has been easy. Back in March, I probably would have wished it all would go away. Today I am thankful my eyes are open.

The fact is, up until now I really haven't had to think about the special needs community. If you would have asked me if I valued all human life equally I would have passionately responded that I do! But until I had to face a new reality in my own life, I was mostly unattached and blissfully unaware of an entire group of people. That pains me today.

Watching the atrocities of the past week has opened my eyes in a similar way. If someone were to ask me if I had a vested interest in the lives of black people I would have said yes! OF COURSE! But it wasn't until I was slapped in the face by the events of this week that I realized the depth of my own detachment. I am now aware of my negligence.

You see, as a white woman, I've been able to watch a story on the news, a TV series about MLK or a documentary about civil rights and think about the change I hope will come. I can be stirred to tears and fervent prayer and still lay my head to sleep without worry or concern about my children being oppressed because of the color of their skin. I haven't felt the need to take personal responsibility because it didn't directly impact me in that moment. That's the brutal, honest, horrific truth.

But in THIS moment...here...today, I cannot lay my head down without worry, pain and conviction. Black lives matter. Where have I been? Why have I been complacent and inactive? Was I too busy in my own life to stop and research and ask questions and actually listen? Yes. Was I too caught up in my own endeavors to stop and wonder how I could help those who aren't granted some of the same necessities/luxuries because of the color of their skin? Yes. Did I have the best of intentions? Yes. Were those intentions enough? NO. I was inactive for far too long.

Our intentions are not enough. White people, it's time to step it up. Speak up. Stand up. DO THE WORK. I am preaching to myself more than anyone. I have SO MUCH WORK TO DO! I want to confidently stand next to my black brothers and sisters and let them know that I will not stand for injustice. I want to SPEAK UP when I see corruption and slander and oppression. I NEED to be vocal. If not now, then when?

How can I call myself a believer of Jesus Christ who is the Prince of Peace, the embodiment of love AND justice and not stand united in this cause? Words are important but they are not enough. Prayers are essential but they can't stand alone. I need to ACT. Now is the time to do more than speak pretty little words.

I plead with my caucasion friends and family to join me in taking a good, hard look in the mirror. Get on your knees and ask God to show you where you have been remiss and negligent in acknowledging and acting upon the brokenness all around us. BURST out of your comfort zone and get UNcomfortable. Good intentions are not enough. Not in the world we live in today. Before I go to bed tonight, this will be my prayer-

"Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life." - Psalm 139:23-24

Amen.

How Jedidiah got his name

Within hours of hearing of our son's potential diagnosis, our community came out in droves. My Bible study leader showed up at my house and hugged me as I cried, two of my friends showed up to watch Clay so Braden and I could go to dinner to process and two more friends showed up after dinner to pray with us. Calls, texts and emails flooded my phone as the news spread throughout our church community. It was overwhelmingly touching and humbling to be the recipient of all this support.

After my transformative nap that afternoon, I wanted to just snap my fingers and be A-OK with my new reality. I am a firm believer that every person is made in the image of God and that not a single life happens by accident. But, if I'm honest, I STILL couldn't stop shaming and blaming myself. I'm in my late thirties and the odds for down syndrome significantly increase the older you get. I also had a miscarriage last summer and had awful thoughts about how I should have heeded the "warning" that we weren't supposed to try for another baby.

Every single time I would be encouraged, prayed over and uplifted by someone that afternoon/evening, a new wave of fear, shame and blame would grip me shortly thereafter. It sadly felt like I had done something horrible and I was being punished. I had fears of never performing again, never regaining my independence and never watching my future son live his own life. It all seemed very dark and dreary and I wanted to climb out of the black and reach up to the LIGHT that I knew, in my heart, was there.

Despite all the support from friends and family that very first day, I felt a strong pull to God's Word. I knew I had to go there for true comfort and relief. I opened my Bible to 2 Samuel. It isn't a book I normally study but I had just read a couple of verses from 2 Samuel that morning in a devotional. I opened to read 2 Samuel 12 and immediately knew I was led there by my loving Father.

The chapter spoke of David. His son had just died and his servants were trying to avoid telling him because they were afraid he would take his own life. King David became aware of their odd behavior and asked if his son had, indeed, died. When they confirmed it, he tore his clothes and immediately worshipped God in the midst of his grief. Afterward, he went to be with his wife and comfort her. They conceived a child that night and, upon his birth, named him Solomon. God sent the prophet Nathan to rename him Jedidiah which means, "Beloved of God."

As soon as I read that, I knew Jedidiah was our son's name. Though his life, up to this point has been surrounded by pain and uncertainty, he is absolutely, 100%, BELOVED BY GOD! He is handpicked for this family, this time, this world. If there was ever a time for someone like Jed, it's NOW! There is so much grief, pain and loss all around us. In the midst of this pandemic and during these horribly violent times, most people don't know which way is up and which way is down. These are the times when a life like our son is MOST needed. An innocent life brought into this world, ON PURPOSE to show that ALL LIFE IS VALUABLE AND IMPORTANT.

I think, in many ways, I have unknowingly fallen prey to the lies our culture pumps out every day. We are taught from a very young age that our value comes from what we do, how we do it and the success we achieve. We are told that we can do and be anything while simultaneously receiving the message that "anything" must include beauty, dollar signs, awards and accolades attached to it. Growing up, I rarely felt that my value came from WHO I WAS. If we are made in the image of God, that should be enough. Period. End of sentence. We are his children, the sheep of his pasture and He loves us. We don't and can't do anything to earn that love. It just...IS.

My sweet Jed may or may not hit milestones out of the park like his big brother but his smiles will embody the essence of his Creator. He may or may not live on his own when he is older but He already has a special home in the arms of the Almighty. No matter what challenges Jedidiah may face, he will not be alone. He will be surrounded by love and support from his family and he will ALWAYS be loved and adored by his Maker. For. Just. Being. Him.

I don't feel shame and guilt anymore. Not in the way I did that first day I learned of his potential diagnosis. If I slip into shame and guilt, now, it's because I am so saddened by my own blindness. It feels almost as though I've been wearing the wrong prescription lenses and now my eyes are trying to adjust to the reality and clarity that has been there all along. Jed's life is nothing to be afraid of, just because it might be different than what I expected. His life is to be celebrated because he is bringing the gift of sight to his otherwise blind mama. To a blind world, in many ways.

Like a cool, tall glass of water on a hot summer day, my Jed will bring a refreshing change to this family. I can't wait to see how this all transforms us. For our good and for HIS glory. Amen.

The day everything changed

On March 6, 2020 I attended a women's Bible study like I did every Friday morning. I led worship for the group of women and was pleasantly surprised by a beautiful offer afterwards. A woman I had only had a few conversations with before, came up to me and extended her hand to help me in any way she could. She said she felt a tugging from God to give me an opportunity to rest. I immediately broke out in tears and shared with my small group a few minutes later. Everyone was overjoyed for me and we continued with the study.

For some reason, beyond my understanding, I couldn't stop crying for the remainder of our time together. I felt a heaviness despite this incredibly kind gesture. It felt like a weight was placed on my chest and I couldn't breathe deeply. At one point I had to excuse myself to try and shake off the emotion in the bathroom. I figured I was just tired and overwhelmed by my busy schedule.

I came home and decided to try and sleep. Braden was downstairs working and Clay was down for a nap. I curled up, ready to fall into a deep sleep but was unable to drift off to dreamland. I lifted my head to peer at my phone and, at that very moment, a call was coming through. I picked up and heard the voice of my OB on the other end. She told me the results of my panorama test had come through. I had taken the test a few weeks earlier because I was eager to find out if we were having a girl or boy. She uttered a few sentences about how this and that came back "normal" but then, she paused and took a deep breath. The next few moments sounded something like this:

Doctor: "You also have come back high risk for trisomy 21...down syndrome."

Me: "Oh...What do you mean high risk? How high risk?"

Doctor: "There's a 9/10 chance your baby has down syndrome."

In an instant, the wind was knocked out of me. I was speechless. Thoughts whirled in my head like a tornado. Maybe it was a mistake. What did 9/10 mean? How could this be? Oh, Lord, how could this happen to us? As I tried to put words together in response, the doctor asked me to write down the number of a genetic counselor I should call right away. I scrounged for paper but couldn't find any. I got out of bed and started to stumble down the stairs to where Braden was sitting and found a doily from a party I had recently thrown. In blue crayon, I scribbled the name and number of a person I had no desire to call.

Somehow before hanging up, I remembered to ask the question I'd originally wanted to know..."What is the gender?"...(long pause, throat clearing...more pause)..."It's a boy." It's ironic that, under different circumstances, I would have chuckled because I was convinced it was a girl. All of a sudden, my false inclination seemed highly inconsequential.

There was an awkward goodbye, I hung up the phone and INSTANTLY the tears I'd denied moments before flooded my face. Not just tears. Rivers. Gasps. Sobs. I clutched my chest because I felt like I would stop breathing at any moment. Like life was ending. Braden came to my side, at the bottom of the staircase where I had fallen to the floor. I tried for a few minutes to get the words out but was unsuccessful. Finally, I managed to squeak out the news between sobs...

"...they think...he probably...has...down...syndrome!"

All I remember is being held and rocked by Braden as I repeated, "I can't! I can't! I can't! How?? Why??? What kind of life will this be for him? What will it be like for us? I just...I don't know how I can do this! CAN we do this??"

There are so many reasons why I was attracted to Braden 7+ years ago when we first met. But the two most important things were on display at the bottom of the stairs that afternoon. His simple faith and his quiet, calm introspection. While I tend to rage and jump to extreme emotion, he remains still and calm. When I jump to the worst possible scenario, he helps me see reason and perspective. In one sentence, Braden summed it all up. He said, "However he is born, he will be ours and we will love him."

I knew he was right. I knew this baby was LOVED and perfectly made in the image of God. I felt so much better knowing that my partner was able to say that aloud. But I still felt crushed by all the unknowns. For fear of passing out from a lack of oxygen (yes, I was crying that much), I told Braden I was going to go take a nap. I drifted off to sleep in a puddle of tears and awoke an entirely new person. This new Misty felt heavy and burdened by this news but she also felt all her other worries and woes about life drift away. With one phone call, I went from being a woman who stressed about minutia to a woman who needed to focus on the next step in front of her. Literally, figuratively, every which way.

There is so much more to share about this journey. It's been over two months since that afternoon and our precious boy won't be arriving for another two. But for right now, I'm writing this to honor the Misty that was and the Misty that is now. We are two different people and virtually everything has changed. But a few things remain the same. I love God and God loves me. He is my rock and my anchor. I also have two boys currently on this planet that help motivate me to get up everyday and trudge ahead no matter how weighed down I become by my emotion. Clay and Braden light up my life and they are hand-picked to be in our new baby's life.

There's no doubt about it. Blessings abound, we will get through this season and there will be ANOTHER Misty down the road who will comfort that old Misty at the bottom of the stairs. This future Misty sees so much more of the journey and would not change a thing. I'm confident of this and I look forward to meeting her.

Flickering Lights

It's dark and I'm tired. There are flickering lights all around but none of them seem bright enough to fill up the empty, cold space I inhabit. Some days I rejoice in what I cannot see, while others cause me to curl up and wish the world would disappear. Leave me be. Those flickering lights persist.

It's dark and I'm alone. There are sounds all around me but none of them speak directly to the voice that cries out within me. The voice that longs to be heard and understood. I smile and laugh and connect as much as I'm able but I'm left feeling more alone than when I started. Those flickering lights remind me that there is life beyond my feelings.

It's dark and I'm scared. An invisible virus lurks behind masks and gloves. I'm scared of looking into the eyes of the unknown but more terrified to look in the mirror and see my own melancholy. There's an unknown virus in my own soul that reaches it's full potential in the darkness of night. It threatens, it taunts, it worries and it jabs relentlessy. Those flickering lights keep me awake and draw me to the Source of Light.

It's dark and I'm painfully hopeful. Numbers and stats tell me that things will never be the same, yet I find myself thinking that this has all been a dream. Maybe my mind played a funny trick on me and I'm not really stuck in a land of isolation and confusion. Maybe those flickering lights will lead me right back to where I was before and erase all the chaos. Those flickering lights gently whisper that hope abounds beyond the here and now and it's ok to reach up and out.

It's dark and I'm unequipped. There was never any warning for this. No chance to return to sender or decline to RSVP. I wonder if I forgot to train my muscles for this kind of war and if I'll possibly be sent home, deemed as an unfit soldier. It would be easier to "go home" and not have to face the unknown. But instead I'm walking headfirst into a battle I don't feel strong enough to endure. Why must I fight? Surely there is someone else, instead? Those flickering lights look like gunshots directed at me.

It's dark and my vision is blurred. Tears stain my face like a permanent fixture. Pockets of my pillow are filled with the damp residue of my evening sobs. The morning brightness brings more than flickering lights but I don't welcome the exposure. Light reveals all the imperfections and things left unfinished. I'm not ready for the light of day. It's more than I can face. Those flickering lights are a glimpse of what is to come without overwhelming me.

It's dark but I can still see color. Beyond my fatigue and my loneliness. Beyond my weak arms and blindness, I can see the blood of the cross. Red letters pop up from the pages of a Book that give life every time I peer inside. The days can be bleak but there is always a promise. Those flickering lights offer to me back home when I feel lost.

Attitude of Gratitude

These are tough days, without a doubt. Some suffer from sickness or the death of someone close. Others may be hit hard by the loss of a job or another form of stability. But ALL of us can relate, in some way, to wanting to be somewhere else, doing something else, WITH someone else instead of being stuck in one place for months on end. I've learned over the years, however, that nothing good ever came from moping and dwelling in dissatisfaction. In fact, some of my most miserable times have been when I have sat and stewed on life's injustices towards me. Comparison is the thief of joy and if I wish for someone else's plot in MY story or a different reality than my own,the ending turns out confusing and incomplete.

Within the past week I have heard and uttered MANY complaints. I think it's good to be honest about our struggles and share them with those we trust. But I also believe it can be dangerous to settle in our grumblings for too long. I'm finding it more beneficial to count my blessings, one by one. For every bad thing in my life, there are two or more GOOD things to uncover. The hardest part, when making a gratitude list, can be getting started. So, I've decided to hold myself accountable to my readers by pinpointing the MANY things I have to be grateful for during this difficult time.

* F A M I L Y * My family is at home together and we are all healthy. We have a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. We are warm when we go to bed and cozy when we wake up in the morning. We have multiple ways to communicate with the outside world through texting, phone calls, zoom, random shouts across the street, email and snail mail. We are able to worship together through streaming on our computers and our Bibles and books are all ready and willing to be opened. We can enjoy walks, movies, music, food, laughter and tears TOGETHER. Everyday. All day. This is a once in a lifetime gift.

* T I M E * The God of my understanding has given me ample time to sort through my feelings, emotions and fears over this pre-diagnosis for our baby. Had this been any other time in my life, I would be too busy to stop, pray, ponder, contemplate and research all the potential outcomes for our son, on the way. When I think about the amazing amount of time I've been given to grieve what MIGHT be and think about what COULD have been, I'm moved to tears. God is so gracious in giving me the gift of time and a very unique and unprecedented PAUSE.

* R E S T * It has never been easy for me to slow down. I usually go full throttle. This quarantine has given me every good reason to stop, rest, listen and pray. I usually have to find an excuse to go away and take a break with friends, going to a spa day or getting a massage. But there is really no good reason NOT to rest, right now. My toddler keeps me on my toes but he also naps, himself. Why not join him? Why not give myself FULL permission to just...chill. For once in my life.

* C O N N E C T I O N * I'm a very outgoing, extroverted person. But something about these Corona virus days have urged me to reach out to many I have neglected to contact in months or even years. There is a drive within me to hear how beautiful people from my past are holding up during these times. Suddently the distance between states and countries seems a little less, due to the fact that we are ALL at home with no place to go. There is unity in that. I'm thankful for the chance to reconnect with those I love.

* C O N T E M P L A T I O N * How easy it has been for me to brush past the difficult things in life and to just SURVIVE. The nature of my life has always been busy with many things to check off my to-do list. But now, with a bit more time to be alone with my thoughts, I'm left contemplating and searching my own heart and soul. I'm able to appraoch the throne of God, prostrate before Him, asking for revelations that I might never have even sought to understand. Something about this time makes me WANT to look upon the hard things and understand more of what makes all of us so broken and in need of a Savior. None of us have it all "together," nor should we try to. I'm enjoying the time to contemplate my own brokenness.

I could go on for days about what I am grateful for. But I feel that these five areas are the heavy hitters. When I begin to list out the blessings of this time, all of a sudden, nothing seems quite as daunting and depressing. There are going to continue to be difficult days in the coming months as our world jaggedly tries to put this tattered puzzle back together. But one thing is for sure...

I will not come out of this unchanged. None of us will. Instead of bemoaning what we are missing, let's join together in finding what we are GAINING.

GET OUT!

Last night I had the most vivid and terrifying dream. I was sleeping with my face under the covers in, what seemed to be, the early morning hours. I saw a shadow pass by my bed, peeked to see what it was and saw a man shutting the door and putting his finger to his lips as if to say, "Be quiet." There was this overwhelming feeling inside of me that I could not speak but then, from some unknown source of strength I yelled, "GET OUT!"

I screamed so loud that I woke myself up just as my husband was starting to comfort me and ask me what was wrong. The dream felt SO real that I actually had Braden go downstairs and check to see if the front door was locked. I could not stop crying and shaking. The feeling that this unknown presence was in my safe haven was more than I could handle.

As I pondered the dream today, many things came to mind. First and foremost, I need to stop watching so many Investigation Discovery, true crime stories! It's an addiction I should learn to drop, especially during this rather stressful time in my life.

I also began to realize how much I've been letting fear drive me these days. It has manifested itself through tears, anger and extreme sensitivity. I know from God's word that fear is not from Him. Looking through verses in my Bible, the references are endless:

Psalm 27:1- "The LORD is my light and my salvation— whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life— of whom shall I be afraid? Isaiah 41:10- "Fear not for I am with you." Isaiah 43:1- “Don't fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine.” Psalm 118:6- “The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid..."

Because I know that fear is not from the Lord, shouting, "GET OUT" is a perfectly appropriate response. When I start to worry about the unknowns with the son in my belly...or the fear of not having my husband with me when I give birth...or wondering who will help us with Clay...or if we will get sick in the midst of this crisis (yes, my thoughts are one big run-on sentence!), I can shout, "GET OUT!!!!!!" Those worries have no place in my mind or heart.

I believe that dreams can be a powerful window into REAL fears and motivations. I think the Lord was pointedly telling me in that dream to kick those menacing fears out of my head, by HIS strength. Left to my own devices, I am a cowering, terrified wreck who cannot speak. But with Jesus by my side, I have NOTHING to fear. If anything, I have things to look forward to.

Without a doubt, there will continue to be hard times throughout life. Suffering and hardships are unavoidable on this side of eternity. But we do not have to face those fears and struggles alone. We have a GOD who formed us, who knows us and LONGS to commune with us. There is nothing sweeter than running into his arms like a child running to his parents after skinning his knee. We can seek solace in Him. Rest. Peace.

Battles upon battles

I woke up feeling renewed and rejoicing over a BEAUTIFUL Easter, at home, with my family. For the first time in years, we weren't rushing from place to place with some sort of agenda. We relaxed, spent time together, ate whatever we wanted and enjoyed the amazing weather. I didn't think anything could bring me down when I went to bed last night. However, a few hours after I woke up today, a darkness swept over me. I felt some physical pain associated with my pregnancy and was told by my OB that I would need to come into the hospital. The tiny office I usually frequent was closed.

As I set out on my journey to a further location, the winds amped up, the rain poured down and my heart felt extremely heavy. Armed with a mask, gloves, lysol in one pocket and purell in the other, I still felt an overwhelming sense of doom. During this unprecedented time in history, I happen to be in a high risk situation of my own. The weather and warzone I approached called, "The Hospital" only compounded the feelings inside of me.

I think, in "normal" times, most of us can feel pretty confident leaving our house. Sure, we could be struck by lightning or hit by a car but not often do we feel like we are willingly walking into harm's way. I can't say that was true for me today. I felt unsafe, unsturdy and highly vulnerable. I put on a brave face a lot but I am scared so much of the time. I truly don't know what lies ahead in ANY capacity and today felt DARK in every sense of the word.

While I was relieved to leave the hospital without consequence, I drove home with tears streaming down my face and angry words towards God. Things like, "WHY do you think I am strong enough to endure all of these curve balls at once?...Don't you have any compassion?...This is too much for me!...AT LEAST stop the rain and the wind while I drive home!...I'm tired...I'm weary...HELP ME!!!!!"

I slammed the door once I arrived home and grumbled complaints to Braden about how rude everyone was to me and how unsafe I felt. I stomped up the stairs to my room and took an aggressive shower just so I could try to rid myself of all the germs I was exposed to in that wretched place of sickness. The more I scrubbed, the more angry I became. Being pregnant is hard enough! But carrying a baby who will most likely have special needs...during a pandemic?? ENOUGH!

I threw on a robe and plopped myself at my desk. Almost challenging God to lift me out of my funk, I opened my, "Thy will be done" devotional by Proverbs 31 ministries and rolled my eyes when the author asked me to read Psalm 119. "Really, God?! That incredibly long, repititive Psalm? Right now? Can't you give me something short and sweet? I'm tired!"

Begrudgingly I opened my Bible to Psalm 119 and read every word. With each verse, I felt my hard heart begin to soften. God's word became alive to me in almost an instant. The word, "STEADFAST" popped off the page over and over again. God seemed to be reminding me that HE is the solid ground on which I can stand. Everything else might feel rocky and unstable but HE is unchanging and sure. I was enveloped by His loving arms and I laid down my weapons of mass destruction. I surrendered to peace.

Without a doubt, there are good days and bad days. Some days in the past month have been beyond excruciating for me, if I'm honest. But every time I stop to listen and try to actually HEAR the Lord, my soul is comforted. The angry thoughts and painful fears diminish and my cup is filled. I don't know how but I DO KNOW it is real. HE is real. He is faithful. He is with me. He will never leave me, even when the storms rage.

The war is all around me but, ultimately, the battle belongs to the Lord. He has already won.

It’s ok not to be ok

As we all begin to dig our heels into this Corona Virus madness, I'm noticing a trend in the posts I've been reading and the conversations I've had. The bloom is definitey wearing off and there seems to be a lot of doubt, anxiety, worry, stress and uncertainty. Most people seem to be recognizing that they don't have the chops to social distance for the long haul. Why would they? We were created for community and togetherness. Most people crave some sort of physical interaction, if not on a daily basis, at least once or twice a week.

I think many would agree that this is getting difficult to sustain. It's very necessary but not always easy. There is only so much Netflix you can watch or chapters in a book to read before you have to really stop and face...yourself. When we stare into that mirror and look past the roots that need touching up and the make-up-less face, what might we be forced to see?

In our fast paced society, there is very little time for self-awareness, internal contemplation or a search for deeper meaning in life. We may go away on a retreat one week or sit in a church pew every Sunday but our daily lives are filled with clutter and frazzle. As crazy and chaotic as our current status seems, there is also an eery stillness. Just looking at pictures of my beloved NYC streets, it is painfully apparent that something BIG is going on. The quiet is unnerving.

I am accepting that it is ok not to be ok. As hard as this time has been for me in many ways, I am grateful for an extended oasis from outside interference. With the news that our child will most likely be born with special needs just before the quarantine began, I felt as though I was sinking. I didn't know how to process what I had been told, nor had I been given a 100% guarantee of anything. So, I chose to forge ahead with the information I'd been given. Were it not for this Coronacation, I don't know that I would have had the ability to get up and face everyday life. And, going further, I don't know that I would have EVER looked my demons in the face.

I know. "Demon" is a strong word. What I really mean is, it is so easy for me to skip or fast forward through the hard stuff and search for the "silver lining." It's good to be positive and forward thinking but I don't believe that I often give myself enough time to grieve, to process and to, ultimately, GROW. I've had to ask myself a lot of very tough questions during this quarantine. Questions that are really painful to answer and sometimes debilitating to think of for the long haul. But the wisdom and peace the Lord is giving me through it all will NOT be wasted, no matter what the outcome.

I was reading in the Psalms today and I came back to the classic twenty third Psalm. I've read it a zillion times over but, this time, something really struck me...God is the pursuer and the sustainer in all the verses:

"He MAKES me lie down in green pastures." "He LEADS me beside still waters." "He RESTORES my soul."

None of those verse say anything about me conjuring up enough strength and fortitude for God to be ABLE to do those things...he just DOES them. Because He is merciful. Because He is mighty. Because He is God! What a relief to know that I can stop trying to MAKE myself be ok with what is going on all around me. He is my sustainer and my comforter when I don't have solid ground on which to walk. Psalm 27:1 says, "The Lord is the stronghold of my life." Never has this been more evident to me than right now.

This is a very diffuclt time for me. However, it's becoming more evident everyday that NOBODY has it easy in the present circumstances. Let's give ourselves permission to mourn what we've lost, to look forward to brighter times and to rest in the shadow of His wings. There is LITERALLY no other place to go.

Babymoon in...Corona?

Early in my pregnancy with Clay, Braden and I left PA and took an exciting babymoon to NYC. We frequented Broadway shows, my favorite restaurants and hot spots around the Big Apple. It was a carefree time filled with promise and excitement. We were on cloud nine. Almost three years later, I'm 19 weeks pregnant and sitting in my home in New Jersey for the fifth day in a row. I've left a few times for a walk, some groceries, gas and take-out but I've been mostly confined along with the rest of the country/world. These are definitely trying and unprecedented times Braden took Clay on a walk today and, when they approached the playground they often visit, found yellow tape blocking the entire thing off like a crime scene. In some ways, this whole experience feels like a really bad movie. "Coronication", perhaps? I'm doing my best to find the bright side of social isolation and take the good with the bad. It's amazing to have Braden home with us everyday and not worry about what I look like in the slightest. It's refreshing to have a softer way of life and the circumstances have caused me to count the many blessings I've taken for granted. We've heard a lot about the vulnerability of the elderly, those with pre-existing conditions and the many people who have lost their jobs through all of this. It's awful. So many prayers are being lifted for all the complicated situations brought on by the Corona Virus. I would also like to ask that people consider praying for pregnant women during this time. Braden and I have a high risk situation and so many unanswered questions about our baby. I have two very important appointments on April 7th that I will have to attend alone, due to the precautions being taken by medical faciilities. It is hard and scary to consider what I may have to hear all by myself. But when I start to feel alone in that fear, I remember that there are countless women who have precarious birthing situations RIGHT NOW. Fragile babies are being brought into the world and any little bit of this virus could be their demise. It is a scary time to be thinking about bringing a child into the world and, once again, I ask that you take a moment to pray for us. Being a mommy is not for the faint of heart. I'm grateful that I don't REALLY have to face all this alone. My God is bigger than any fear I may have and He certainly conquers death. When I get into my own head about my own struggles, I ask God to shift my mindset and help me pray for others. May we all have the strength and fortitude to see outside of ourselves during this insane time and rise above.

Light through the cracks

When I worked on cruise ships as a singer, awhile back, I didn't have any windows in my cabin. I used to love the intense darkness because it meant I could sleep at ANY time of the day (you tend to have a lot of free time on ships!). It always used to bug me, however, when the light from the hallway would sneak through the cracks in my door and wake me up from my perfect slumber. I still love to sleep in total darkness. Inevitably, the light from outside sneaks through every crack in my blackout curtains and reminds me that it is time to face my day, come what may. Light is always stronger than the darkness and there is no dodging the brightness. A little more than a week ago, we were given some very tough news about the baby baking in my belly. It's not a 100% and there is still a lot more testing and investigating to be done but it has all been very daunting and scary. During my first pregnancy, every little ache and concern sent me into a state of relentless worry for Clay. Those days feel like a walk in the park in comparison to what we are going through. When I first heard the potential diagnosis for our baby, I was terrified, angry, broken-hearted and in total despair. My legs went out from under me and I didn't stop crying for 48 hours. I felt like the darkness pulled me in like quicksand and I continued to sink further and further into the abyss. Horrible thoughts, scenarios and questions flashed through my brain like an old VHS in fast-forward mode. The temptation for me, in times like these, is to DOUBT God's goodness and love. To shake my fists and ask, "Why me?" The anger and grief can make me want to turn away from Him. A week ago, I expressed this to God and audibly prayed to Him saying, "It says in your word you will never give us more than we can handle but THIS is surely more than I can handle." A few hours later, I was recounting the difficult times throughout my life and seeing his faithfulness through it all. Of my own strength, I was not strong enough for any of the trials I encountered. But, by the grace of God, He has held my hand and led me safely back into his arms through every storm in my life...including this one. It really hit me in that moment that the Lord doesn't promise a life free from pain but He DOES promise to be with us and hold us up when we cannot walk alone. He has not once left my side and he surely won't desert me now, in potentially, my darkest hour. Whether we choose to see it, there is death and suffering and sadness and depression and loneliness and despair in every direction we turn. Though none of those things may have directly touched us, someone in our lives is in the midst of something difficult right now. Darkness is all around us because we are living in a broken world. The good news is, just like in my dark cabin on the cruise ship, the light will always shine through. Even if it is coming through a tiny keyhole and barely visible, at first, it is there. He is the light. And we can be the light to those around us. I cannot express my immense gratitude for the light people have been to me in this hardest week of my life. Thank you for being living and breathing examples of God's goodness. I implore you, no matter what you are going through, to look for the LIGHT in every circumstance. It is always there and it will always overcome the darkness.

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