A Heavy Burden (Part 1 of Commandment Series)

A few years ago I almost walked away from the church.  I was tired of the the religious grind.  Ironically, all I learned growing up in the church seemed irrelevant and disconnected to the daily realities of having a dynamic relationship with Christ.   The truths I was taught were critical to spiritual health, left me feeling empty and disappointed.  I wanted so much more then what my church was "selling."  My heart longed for freedom but instead was shrinking into a confined space of death. 

The heaviest burden I was carrying during this time was related to the Ten Commandments.  I grew up in a church that emphasized the Law and prided itself in being one of the only Christian churches who kept ALL the Commandments. Our very name, Seventh Day Adventists, communicates the essence of what we believe.  We observe, the seventh day Sabbath (the fourth commandment) and we expectantly await the second coming of Christ.  The Law is intertwined into every fiber of our denomination.  If you toss aside the Commandments, it's really hard to remain a Seventh Day Adventist. 

So here I was, a Seventh day Adventist pastor's wife who is struggling with a foundational teaching of the church, who, if I was being honest, desperately wanted to walk away, and who was reading scripture like this one,

"Likewise, my brothers, you also have died to the law through the body of Christ, so that you may belong to another, to him who has been raised from the dead, in order that we may bear fruit for God.  For while we were living in the flesh, our sinful passions, aroused by the law , were at work in our members to bear fruit for death.  But now we are released from the law, having died to that which held us captive, so that we serve in the new way of the Spirit and not in the old way of the written code." Romans 7:4-6 (ESV)

  

and crying.   I could not reconcile the discrepancy between what my church taught (the Law brings life and is essential to a vibrant relationship with Christ) and the deadness I felt in my heart regarding that very truth. 

I knew I had arrived at a crossroads. I needed to make a decision. I either had to walk away or take another look at the Ten Commandments and see if I had missed something.  More out of cowardice than anything, I chose the latter.  I knelt down by my bed and opened the Bible.  I decided to go to Psalm 119 since the whole chapter is dedicated to the Law of God.  I read all of it.  There was one verse though that wouldn't let me go.

"I will lift up my hands toward your commandments, which I love, and I will meditate on your statues." Psalm 119:48 (ESV)

There were a couple of thoughts that came to me.  First, I realized that I did not feel towards the Law what David felt towards the Law. The way he talked about it left me wondering what he was seeing that I was missing.  And second, the posture of lifting your hands toward something indicates worship.  Why would David worship tablets of stone?  It was this question that led me to the conclusion that David wasn't worshiping the actual commandments, but rather was lifting is hands toward the God who wrote them. 

This realization led me to pray from the deepest part of my heart.  Lord, you know my struggle.  You know my heart.  David saw and felt things regarding your Law that I don't see or feel.  He somehow managed to find you within those tablets of stone. If you are in the Law, Lord, I want to see you there.  If somehow things have changed and the Law is no longer relevant for my life, please reveal it to me.  As hard as it would be to walk away from the church I grew up with and now serve, I will do it because I want you more.  Amen.

To this day, I don't know why God chose to answer my prayer the way He did.  He poured out so much of Himself to me that even now, as I write, my breath literally catches in my throat. I am humbled with what I received that day.   What happened in the hours following that prayer has fundamentally changed the way I see the Ten Commandments.  Since that night six and a half years ago, I've had the honor of  speaking to hundreds of people in various Christian settings on how God is revealed in the Law.

Over the next few weeks, I want to share pieces of what I learned that night and in the years following that encounter.  I thought it appropriate to use this blog as a platform for this message as the Ten Commandments is typically not a teaching where you would expect to find God.  I'm excited to share this with you.  I hope you will find blessing, see grace, and experience the God I found hidden within tablets of stone. 

An Unexpected Place of Worship

This last week at church, I experienced something beautiful.  I didn't fully realize I was in the midst of something sacred at the time because my surroundings were far from what you would consider worship like.   Now that Zach has reached a new phase of exploration and wiggle-ness, it is almost impossible to make it through a whole church service without having to step out.  This particular week was no different.  I remember feeling somewhat resentful as I gathered our things and made our way to the mother's room.

{My husband, Mike, is a pastor which means that I tackle church on my own on most weeks.  It's a reality I am learning to accept but it is not something I have always embraced graciously.  This is an area of my heart the Lord is continually seeking to lead into a deeper level of trust and dependence on Him.}  

The mother's room at church is not what I would consider a sacred space . This week however, I realized that God's presence and blessing were there.  God revealed Himself to me through the casual interaction I had with two other mom's and their children.  As we sat there with our kids, talking about them, and sharing about current happenings, a sense of peace, contentment, and joy filled me.  Although, I didn't reflect on these feelings at the time, they were signaling the presence of blessing. In  that small circle was the true essence of corporate worship.  

I received:

• Acceptance without judgement
• A shared understanding of the difficulties and joys of parenting
• Genuine interest in one another and our experiences
• The joy of being in relationship with other women
• A realization that grace has brought us together to raise our children alongside one another
• A live testimony of God's blessing on each of our lives through the little babies he has given us

Today, as I was thinking about the beauty of that moment.  The Lord brought other memories about my two friends, Ali and Jeanne, and the journey we have traveled together over the last couple of years.  

We were pregnant at the same time with our second babies and were able to share our unique experiences with each other. I was on bed rest the last two months of pregnancy due to threatened pre-term labor.  When Ali reached the 29 week mark, she called me because she was worried about early contractions.  I tried to reassure her that everything would be fine.  My baby Zach was born on August 26th, his due date.  Ali's little Peter was born August 27th, two months early.  I remember interceding for her knowing she was now living the reality that I had feared I would have to live.  Jeanne's,  baby Isabella, came two months later, on Peter's actual due date.  During our pregnancies we laughed together, prayed for each other, worried for the other, and rejoiced when we all had our babies.  

                                       

With our babies at Matthew's three year birthday party

                                           Yesterday's picture during our "Worship" time

I thank the Lord for friends to share the journey with.  I feel blessed to have these women (and other incredible women too :)  in my life.  They teach me, inspire me, and challenge me.  Even though, I don't often feel like I can truly be a part of a church service at this time in my life, I am thankful that God shows up in mother's rooms and blesses us moms with the richness of being in relationship.  I am awed by how beautifully the Spirit works in each of our lives, weaving and integrating our experiences together.  I am humbled by the grace of it all.  

Lord, thank you for the richness that comes from being in relationship with other women.  Thank you for showing up in unexpected places and blessing our momma hearts.  Father, graciously bless all my friends that have little ones. You know our struggles, our sacrifice, our loneliness, our guilt, our striving for perfection, our feelings of inadequacy, and our yearning for more of you.  Meet us in our weakness.  Fill the gaps that we leave in our wake.  Give abundantly to our families, Lord.  Hear our prayers for those we love and seek to influence for Your Kingdom.  Thank you for grace. Amen.   

A Fresh Start

My blog has a new look thanks to Tiffany at Beautiful Dawn Designs! She was wonderful to work with and very helpful in teaching me some things.  I love it when people are passionate about their work.  It inspires me to stay true to the things that make me unique and to generously share them with others.

I'm currently in the process of organizing some of my ideas and thoughts about this blog.  I want this space to promote inspiration, reflection, and connection. By sharing the "glimpses" of God I see in my day to day, I hope to chronicle stories that will serve as reminders of God's fierce commitment to making Himself known.

Be on the look out for a series of posts on how God revealed Himself to me through the Ten Commandments.  I will go through a fascinating overview of how God's character is revealed in the Law.  Traditionally, the Ten Commandments are seen as a set of binding rules to follow. A closer look would reveal that beyond the rules there are ten character attributes of God that stand as promises to His people. His very nature is revealed in each of the commandments and stands as an eternal declaration of who he has vowed Himself to be for the human race.  I'm excited to share this with you!

A Non-Minimalists Journey into Simple Living

I am not a minimalist.  Endeavoring to live with less is not an ambition that has never taken hold of me.  I love big, open spaces and find beauty in homes that have room in which to spread out. Having less is not something that inspires me. The phrases in the Bible that capture my attention and creativity are the ones that talk about abundance and plenty.  The idea that God fills the vast space between the beginning of time and eternity intrigues me. I find security in the abundance God provides.

Several of my friends have chosen to embrace a minimalistic lifestyle.  Their intentionality for living with less and the planning they put into making it work is inspiring.  Their organizational ability and creativity is truly remarkable.  There is certainly beauty in simplicity in smaller spaces.  As beautiful as this type of life appears at times, it is not a life I have ever desired.

Recently, due to various circumstances, our family of 4 moved out of a four bedroom, two bathroom home into a much smaller space.  Our new living quarters is a two bedroom, one bath, 900 square foot duplex.  Although, it is certainly a temporary arrangement, it has forced me to take a closer look at my beliefs about living with less.  Truly, if it wasn't for my minimalist friends, I probably would have seen my current living situation as just a smaller space to live in and nothing more.  The experiences provided by sweet people like the Cress family at Beginner Beans, the Petersons at Livin' Lightly, and the Lippincotts at Loving Simple Living have made me stop and reflect about what the space I live in can teach me.

Our Living Space

 Living room and Dining Room

                                                        Kitchen and Juicing Station

                                                                        Kitchen

                                                                   Workspace

                                                               Matthew's Room

                                                               Matthew's Toys

                                                      Our Room and Zach's Space

      Front Yard: The space where we play, picnic, and relax... has become an extension of our home.


We've lived here for about a month and I have to admit the first few weeks were not so great.  I was very irritable and felt cramped.  The hot weather and lack of air conditioning probably added a lot to that.  The weather is much cooler this week and I'm finding myself feeling more pleasant.  Granted, we have not lived in "our small house" as my 3 year old son, Matthew calls it, for very long but I feel that I have learned a few things about living more simply.

Reflections on Living in a Smaller Space

1) I find myself putting things away soon after I use them instead of waiting to put them away later.  Clutter doesn't spread out very well in a small space. Since open spaces are important to me, leaving clutter in an already small area makes it seem even smaller.  This is motivation enough for me to put things away.  This is something I've worked on for quite some time but never truly have mastered.  Living in more confined quarters is teaching me the value and necessity of picking up after myself.

2) Small spaces get dirtier sooner because of frequency of use but are easier and faster to clean.  I don't feel overwhelmed at the prospect of cleaning because I know it will be over soon.  The quicker cleaning time leaves me more time to do other things.

3) I enjoy the simplicity of  Matthew's room.  His space is not overwhelmed with toys like before.  When he's wondering where a specific toy is, it is much easier to find because there are less toys to navigate through.

4) We spend more time outside. I love the tree in the front yard!  It's great for picnics, climbing, and quite enjoyable to just sit under.  It truly does feel like an oasis.  Sadly, I can't say the same for the backyard. Thanks to our neighbors dogs, it is infested with their droppings.  No fence apparently is an open invitation for them to come over and leave their smelly blessings.  Suffice it to say, we don't spend much time back there.

5) Having a smaller place means less living expenses.  Our utility bill this month was a whopping $18.  There is a sense of great satisfaction knowing that we are saving about $1000 each month from our housing expenses as a result of living where we do.

6) Living in a smaller space with two kids has given me confidence that it can be done.  If we ever face hard financial times and have no choice but to downsize, I now know we can do it.  I honestly think we could have three kids and live in a two bedroom apartment (not that I'm wanting to add more children...just saying it's possible :)

7) I'm learning that where you live doesn't make you happier if you are already unhappy.  The state of your emotions and general satisfaction with life stays the same regardless of the size of home you own. Sure a bigger home adds some conveniences, but it is not necessary for overall life satisfaction.  Who you are in a big home is still the same person you are in a small home.


After writing out this list, I'm wondering why I would want to go back to living in a bigger place.  My minimalists friends are probably thinking the same thing!    Even though there are many great aspects to living in smaller spaces, I can't say I've been converted to choosing to live a truly minimalist life.

Honestly, I'm excited to move out and live in a larger house.  I want to have the conveniences that come with having a fenced yard, free of poop from neighbor dogs.  I want the convenience of my own room.  I want the convenience of a larger living room where I can host lots of people.  I want more than one bathroom.  I want a closet I can walk into. I realize that I don't truly 'need' any of these thing and can actually do without them.  Despite my desire for more, living with less this last month has showed me the areas of my life in which I want to continue living more simply.

• I want to spend less time picking up clutter/cleaning the house and more time in relationship with others. 

•  I want my children to grow up appreciating the things they have and be satisfied with fewer material possessions.  

• I want to be a better steward of money and more generous with others that may not have as much as me.  

•  I want to live a life where I am satisfied with having meaningful relationships and cease to find my identity in the things that I have and do.  

I want to extend a BIG thank you to my minimalist friends who inspired me to reflect on the space that I call home.  Without their perspective, I would have missed out on some key insights.  Who knows, maybe one day I'll join the ranks of my minimalist compadres!

{Click here to read my most recent post simple living. I talk about this post and how I feel about it after moving out of our smaller space into a bigger house.}

Joy

Setting the Pace in Marriage

Last weekend, Mike and I attended a Weekend to Remember.  It was nice to have a weekend where we focused on our marriage in a more intentional way.  There were many special moments sprinkled throughout the three days, but my biggest takeaway happened as Mike and I were talking during a breakout session Saturday morning.  In that conversation, I realized how much we both had grown and matured over the years.  The issues that once had ignited heated discussions and arguments were now things we could talk about with commonness of heart.  How did that happen? How does a marriage that once was filled with frustration and gaps in communication become one of understanding and fullness? As I thought about it, I recalled various turning points in our marriage throughout the years that shifted things just a little in the right direction.  In trying to pin point the key to what made our marriage turn for the better, I came across a bit of a revelation which was partly triggered by one of the weekend speakers.  What I realized was that it wasn't one big thing that changed the way we communicated but rather hundreds of decisions along the way to keep silent.  Let me explain.

Early on in our marriage whenever we were having an argument, we both felt the need to say everything.  It was like in that one conversation we wanted to capture all that we were feeling about so many issues.  I know for me, I felt that if I didn't get my point across right then, it would never be heard.  I believed that in one argument flaws of character could be changed and all things wrong could be made right.  My expectations for disagreements were that they in and of themselves could resolve all problems quickly and effectively.  So I didn't hold back, whatever came to my mind I would speak with the hope that once my disappointments were verbalized, they would find resolution.  What I found though, was more frustration and more problems that needed solving.

I'm not sure when it started to happen but at some point in this ten year journey I started holding back and pacing myself.  I realized that I could use discretion in deciding what to say and when to say it.  Problems in marriage are not solved in one argument.  They are resolved over time and after many conversations.  Marriage will never be void of problems or things needing attention.  So why not pace ourselves for the long haul? Just because I choose silence today does not mean that what I want to say will never be heard.  It just means that right now is not the best time to mention that he didn't take the garbage out yet again.  I have never regretted keeping silent.  I have found that after the silence, I am better able to speak words of grace instead of judgement.

Marriage requires intentional and dedicated work no matter who you are with or how long you have been married. Practicing the "common sense" tips that characterize many a marriage seminar takes a courageous laying down of self. Sadly however, these seemingly obvious nuggets of wisdom are often dismissed because the solutions seem too easy.  How can something as simple as waiting to say something until it's the right time change a conflict-filled marriage into one of peace? I'm learning that it's the simple things practiced over time that make a world of difference in marriage.

The Clouds that Came

During my pregnancy with my second son, Zach, there were moments when I wondered how I would adjust to having another baby.  I don't tend to like change and am quite comfortable leaving things as they are.  Although, I wasn't opposed to having another baby, I had not been eager to get pregnant.

Parenting for me has been a journey of mixed blessing.  The Lord has given me much but He has also taken a lot.  From the beginning, before I ever held my first son, I had to let go of two little lives.  Even though God met me in that time of loss and brought a lot of healing, there remained a residual hurt. In many ways, pregnancy brings that pain to the surface forcing me to remember and to feel it all over again.

If I am honest, after I had my first son, there was a part of me that never wanted to get pregnant again.  I had given birth to a beautiful baby boy and that was enough for me.  The emotions that conception and pregnancy produced in me was something I wanted to leave behind.  I was grateful God had given me a baby but deep inside I was afraid of what would happen if I got pregnant again.

Well, I did get pregnant again.  It's hard to explain how you can feel excitement and love toward the new life that is forming inside of you but also feel dread and fear. I wrestled with these and many other emotions during my pregnancy.  As Zach's birth approached, I found myself praying a lot.  I prayed mostly for peace.  I wanted God's peace to cover me.  There was a part of me that knew the emotions I was feeling and the various things going on in my life were brewing up to make the perfect storm.

The first two weeks after Zach was born were blissful in many ways.  My birth experience was amazing and very empowering.  I felt instantly bonded to my new little son and felt very grateful for the gift God had given me.  I was also thankful that the "baby blues" had lasted only a few moments.  I remember thanking God for the short lived tears.

I can't pinpoint what changed but something did at around the four week mark. I found myself feeling overwhelmed even though at this point I was getting more sleep.  I was afraid of being alone with the boys.  I felt insecure of how to care for them.  I was irritable.  I cried because I didn't know what to do.  I felt like I was broken and wounded.

 I reached out to my husband for support.  At first he was unsure of how to help me and felt that I wasn't really depressed but needed to change my perspective and expectations of myself.  To a point he was correct but I was having a hard time doing those things and so I told him that in order for me to get to that place, I would need him to step in and help me.

Mike did everything he could to support me from taking additional blocks of time off of work to be at home, to taking the boys with him when I needed a break.  At first it was working okay but then it started to wear on him.  He started feeling like he couldn't get work done and hold things together at home as well.  I could sense his frustration which made me feel even worse for not being able to pull myself together.

Now just for some perspective.  I was functioning rather well on the surface.  I could get out of bed every day, clean the house, dress the boys, play with them, tend to their needs, and even go out and do stuff with them.  The difference was that inside I felt like running away because I didn't feel capable of handling my life.  When Mike would go to work, I would start feeling anxious. There were days when I didn't think I could face another day. This is how I knew that what I was feeling was not just normal parenting stress.

After a couple of weeks of struggling, I decided to make an appointment with a counselor.  After my first session, I felt a lot better.  It helped to voice my fears and admit how hard my life seemed right now.  She encouraged me to get extra support the next several weeks/months, however long it took for me to feel better.  She affirmed that I wasn't crazy for feeling the way I was feeling. She also told me it was okay to ask for help.

One of my biggest hang ups on asking for more help was that I knew there were other moms who managed motherhood with less support than I, and they were doing just fine.  Why couldn't I just suck it up and do it too?  I felt guilty for wanting help even though I needed it.  I felt even worse going back to my husband and telling him, I needed more.

I sat down with Mike and made a plan.  I told him that this was temporary and that I knew I would get better but I really needed his help to make it happen.  He told me that he would do whatever it took in order to help me get better. This took a huge burden off my shoulders knowing that my husband was willing to listen when I needed to talk and step in for me in my time of weakness.

This is the plan we came up with:

• Exercise 3x's a week for 45 minutes
• Counseling session 1x per week
• Invite a mom friend over on Mike's long day of work so that I didn't feel so alone
• I would talk about my feelings and cry when I needed to
• I would ask my close friends/family to pray for me
• Mike would take an extra day off of work each week until I felt better
• Mike would only be gone two evenings a week in order to help me with the bedtime routine
• I would try to let go of unrealistic expectations that were making me feel like a failure
• If all of the other interventions didn't help me and I was still struggling after a few weeks, I would make an appointment with my OB and get started on some meds.

A little over five weeks passed from the beginning of this ordeal until I felt that I had a breakthrough.  I was praying one night and I cried out to God in my distress.  I claimed the deliverance that was mine as a child of His.  I pleaded that he would heal my heart and mind.  I asked Him to return joy to my life.  I went to bed crying that night hoping that God would come to my rescue.

The next morning I got up and I felt different. Mike left early to church because he was preaching. I got the boys ready by myself.  I didn't feel afraid or overwhelmed.  I went through church with both of them and continued to feel fine.  The anxiety was gone.  The dread of living was gone. I was at peace.

The following day, I told Mike he should go play basketball (he usually goes Sunday mornings but had missed several weeks because I was such a mess).  He looked at me a bit surprised.  I told him I felt fine and that he should go.  The rest of the day continued with the same peace I had experienced the day before.  Every day since then has been the same.  Sure, the stresses of parenting are still there but my outlook is different.  I'm no longer afraid to be alone.  I don't feel incapable of caring for my boys anymore.  I look forward to a new day.

I know God answered my prayer that night.  But I also know that all the other things that we put in place also made a difference.  God's ways are dynamic and seldom work in isolation of others.  We need others to make it during the good and bad times.  It's tempting to let go of the supports I have in place now that I'm feeling better. I have come to realize however, that I need them in place to continue to feel better, at least for awhile.

Mike is stepping back just a little but he's still helping out with the boys.  I think every mom needs their husband's support.  It definitely makes for a happier mommy!   I will continue going to counseling and working through some of my hang-ups with perfectionism, fear, and loss. I am going to give myself permission to talk about my feelings rather than hide from them or stuff them down.  I will reach out to other moms for support and friendship.  I will continue to pray and praise the God who is more than able to care for my every need.

I felt it was important for me to write about my experience because there is such a stigma surrounding depression and motherhood.  It's not a topic that is readily discussed at mommy groups or at family gatherings. I felt uncomfortable bringing it up even to those closest to me.  It took me weeks to actually say, "I have postpartum depression." Admitting it made me feel weak. I also think there is a bit of ambivalence in many mothers in knowing if what they are experiencing is indeed PPD or just a bad day or two.  When I went online to look at the symptoms for PPD, I didn't feel that I was experiencing a lot of what I was reading.

Most days, I found pleasure in doing the things I normally enjoyed. I laughed often. I never lost interest in caring for my boys. I was attentive and aware of their needs. I had energy to clean my house. I even had a desire to go to the gym and workout.  If I had only looked at my exterior actions, I could have easily dismissed the feelings I was having inside. But in all honesty, my efforts to have a clean house were a cover up for the feelings of inadequacy that were plaguing me. My desire to go to the gym was my way of coping with the waves of tears and sadness that came when I least expected them.  Like I mentioned earlier, the sure tell sign for me that I was experiencing PPD was the intensely negative emotions I was experiencing that wouldn't go away.

There are different tools you can use to determine if you have PPD.  The most common is the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale.  The one I really liked was just two questions long.  1) Over the past 2 weeks, have you felt down, depressed, or hopeless? and 2) Over the past 2 weeks , have you felt little interest or pleasure in doing things?  A positive response to either question indicates a positive screen and should be followed up by an expanded history to confirm the diagnosis of depression.

There are certain risk factors that typically are present in women that develop PPD.  Some of them applied to me but most did not.  Here's a list of the things I believe contributed to PPD in me:

• My intense desire to do things right (perfectionism)
• My tendency to measure my worth by the success of what I do (baby Zach was not doing things by the book (imagine that! :) and it was making me feel like a failure and very insecure). 
• History of infertility
• Two previous miscarriages
• Lack of a strong support system 

So there you have it, my PPD story.  I know there are women that struggle much longer than I did and my heart truly goes out to them because dealing with depression and raising children is the hardest thing in the world.  I hope that my story will help other women take courage during their time of struggle and reach out for help.  I know that I couldn't have gone through this time alone.  I believe if I would have, I would still be struggling today.

For now the clouds appear to have lifted.  I am so grateful for that. I pray they don't come back, but if they do, I know I am not alone.