Woman.

I have never really identified with the idea of being called "woman."

 I am totally female and all, heh, it was jut the concept of being called girl, young woman, lady or woman.  I had a hard time thinking of myself as being a woman.

That has ended. Something about going through this has forever altered my mind.  I'm a woman, I won't be going back. I can't explain why. I don't feel more mature necessarily. It's like my soul is deeper. That sounds lame but it's the best way I can say it.

I was on Pinterest today and someone had a Motherhood board and my first thought was I'm just not ready for that.  Then I looked again and it was like something whispered to my heart that pain doesn't make it not beautiful. Motherhood is still a beautiful precious gift. 

I feel like Somewhere and I are grown ups now. He and I were talking about it last night and it's just made us grow up.  That's not a bad thing either. It just is. The world is more serious, the loves deeper, the good is more precious.

I plan to journal this journey for a while.  You'll read, if you continue, about the hurt and the heal.  I just feel that's how I need to do this. I hope none think I am trying to be all woe is me. For one thing, I could never be an entire band. Sorry. Music humor.
My intention is never to wallow.
You are under no obligation to read.
I just hope to find the Phoenix in all of this.

John 10:10

A Long Goodbye

This week has been one of the longest goodbyes of my life.

 If you dare post a single judgemental word on this post, leave the page and do not hit comment. There is no time or place for that.

I hadn't posted on here about it yet, not really sure why, but Somewhere and I found out Aug. 19th that we were indeed pregnant. I couldn't wrap my mind around it and couldn't wait to tell my family.

Right now, it is impossible to delve into all the emotions I felt.

I got the books, smiled, held my hand over my stomach for no reason other than to feel closer. I was never terribly sick, just weary and dizzy.  I stopped drinking coffee (often), I ate hummus like it was the last pack on earth, I muched ginger, heated lunch meat and thought froot loops were incredible.  I daydreamed about tan toes slipping into colorful booties. I wrote a journal, full of my goals for being a mother and what gender we thought she was. (Can you tell my guess?)

I had moments of fear. I had times of prayer where I would beg God to let me pray more than that my sweetheart would be safe and have His arms around them.  That scared me because I wanted my arms around them.  Being a bit of a pessimist though, I fought the fear and released trust to my precious Savior.  I do not regret that for a moment. I don't want to place fear in anyone's heart that trust is ever misplaced in Jesus. In this case, in love, He was preparing me.

I laughed inside when people thought the ideas of twins would scare me. When I wasn't scared, they would jump the number to triplets. In my heart, I had a feeling they weren't wrong with the first
guess.

I went on a trip to visit some dear sistas last weekend. We had fun and they treated me like a frail princess and I loved it.

Sunday I didn't feel totally okay, but, I thought I knew the causes and was relaxed. That evening I went to the ER, and after 11 hours, went back to the house with the diagnosis of a threatened miscarriage. I was 7 and half hours from my Love and a horrid cocktail of anguish and hope. My one happy thought, other than "this isn't over for sure" was this: I was pregnant with twins.  For some reason, that filled me with joy.

Monday, I finally got home and in the arms of my husband. We talked and cried and prayed. We prepared for the worst and hoped for the best.

Tuesday morning, my doctor said it was still a maybe and that she wasn't throwing in the towel. I was to come see her Wednesday. We called Somewhere's parents that evening and told my parents in our living room, along with my grandparents, who already knew. Somewhere had needed an ear as he anxiously awaited my arrival home.

Wednesday's appointment went as well as it could and we went home with very cautious hope. Perhaps this wasn't the end.

Wednesday night went very bad.
I knew it was over and my sweet babies were gone. My heart was broken, my body empty. I clung to Jesus, pleading for strength and wisdom.

We called the doctor above mine and he said as long as I didn't move into physical danger, to wait until morning to come in. I went in and all seemed normal for what I had been through. I thought it was at least over. My body could rest. While my soul was torn, my body was receiving relief.  My mom slept on the couch across from me, watching me through the night. (What would I do without her to rub my face when I am sick? Or Somewhere to hold me and say "Its okay babe, I know" when I cry for what seems like no reason.)

I was wrong about where I was bodily.

Thursday night, things went even worse. I cried and sobbed out not wanting to go back to the hospital to my mom. Then the moment hit where that wasn't an option. I was going. I said "call them. I have to go in." I have rarely been so happy as when I saw the EMTs.  Somewhere followed, arriving at the hospital before us actually.  I asked to see him. He was in shock. I held his hand and reassured him that I was in good hands.  He went back out with his mom, who came down with his dad, to be with us. Thank God for family.

Just about every step you can put a miscarrying woman through, I walked.  I'm not complaining. I was heavily drugged most of the time. I was under very watchful eyes that were doing the best they could for me.
I slept. I cried. I prayed. I smiled at my husband. I held hands. I was wrapped in love.

Finally, Friday afternoon, I was sent in for a d&c. I won't go into details.  Most people say it is hell.  It was such a wonderful gift for me.  I wouldn't have made it safely without it. I slept straight through it.  My sleep dr, as I called her, shared that she had been there five times and now had a beautiful daughter. Then gave me a drug to "make me not care." I told her thank you.


I awoke to family and a feeling of peace.

A peace.

I know some people think God is a crutch.

 I can honestly say, I have no idea how I would be here, emotionally and physically, without Him. It's not a promise of seeing my babies one day, because I don't even know that I will know them there. It's not a belief in a greater plan. It's not any cliche.

It simply is.  He is.

As Joel Goddard would say, I can no sooner explain it than to tell you what strawberries taste like.

contemplation

she’s amelia earhart and jane goodall and joan jett all rolled into one. 
she’s really great to work with and amazing. she doesn’t like the light of the business we call ‘show.’ she stays hidden, and that’s where she likes it. but she’s an amazing collaborator, and i feel like sometimes i have a map in my pocket that folds up and i pull it out and it’s bigger than the table, and there’s 1,000 places to go with her.
 tom watts on his wife and songwriting partner, kathleen brennan 



I would love to hear Somewhere describe me like this. "Amelia. Jane. Joan." What a mixture. :)

This week has been about as quiet as this blog.  Some and I have both been being "wooed", for lack of a better word, by our Savior. The house hasn't been perfectly clean, but, there has been a lot of peaceful, still moments.  We've definitely crossed a bridge. The cool spring breezes have been cleansing the air and our souls. It's been one of the best weeks of my life lately. :)

Source: longestacres.blogspot.com via Allison on Pinterest

Place Courage

Titus 2:3-4

English Standard Version (ESV) BibleGateway.com

³  Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, ⁴ and so train the young women to love their husbands and children,

Lately, I've been surrounded by a group of encouraging women.  There are a few guys, but, for the most part, it's been women. They lived out these words.  Don't get your panties in a knot either over how it's to teach them to love their husbands and children.  It's not saying "don't encourage the single." Calm down. They aren't all old ladies either.  They are older, but not old. They are a certain number of people whom my heart smiles to see.  These dears have been reaching out to me.  I see them finding the good in me.  I soak it up like warm sunshine.  These are ladies who remind me constantly that I am loved, cherished by my Savior, beautiful, creative and intelligent.  This may sound like the world's most self-centered post ever, but, it's one that's been on my heart.  I can't tell you how much their words have meant to me.  I get kind of surprised by love.  

Psalm 139:14 (ESV, Biblegateway.com)
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. 

 I find nothing wrong in remembering that we are fearfully and wonderfully made. Not just me.  You are too.  We are all fearfully and wonderfully made.   This gets hard, as well, I don't want to remember that the people I view as evil are fearfully and wonderfully made.  I don't want to remember that God designed their every fiber.  He knew them.  I sit there and think "how can you possibly have made them?!"  Then I remember that He made me.  What stopped me?  I'm not saying I have all evil figured out.  There's a thing called "righteous anger", an anger at seeing innocence betrayed. Even so, I'm called to love my enemies.  That's hard.
  I digress.

Source: Pinterest

I don't take the gift of encouragement lightly.  I re-gift. At least, I hope I do.  I have people in my mind who will always get a hug when I see them, I remind them constantly that they are beautiful, people who you see courage bloom from at the watering of words, the sunshine of love.

Who needs, craves, and desires your love today?

tattoo

In the choosing of the name for the blog, which is still under way, I've been thinking a lot about words and their meanings.

I'm the kind of person who writes/draws on themselves with Sharpie.  People then ask, and often, if it is a tattoo.  I understand why they think it is one, I am the sort of person you would expect to have tattoos.

Strangely, I do not have any tattoos. There, rest your minds Mom and Grandmother. 

It's not that I do not like tattoos, I do.  I just never have found one that I wanted forever, other than a wedding band.

These facts are beside the point.  Heh, I'm sorry! I rabbit trail.

Occasionally the things I write are sayings I like or verses that touch my heart.  Often it's a simple thing I need to remember during the day, such as "love", "trust" or "focus".  When I read, I come across phrases and think of the way they would look if I tattoo them. I like to use it to remember things.  I can thinking back on them, it's like I have a book sunk in under my skin.  I like my secret tome, all my own and none others, not entirely.

There are other words under my skin, written in dirty ink, infecting, poisoning.  Mostly, I am to blame for these words.  I am not at all blaming anyone but myself.  (Seriously.  I know some of my family read this.  SERIOUSLY! Do not think you had anything to do with this. )  I have words, nasty, hateful, words that I see when I see my skin, myself, my world.  Things I've allowed to corrupt my eyes and mind, a dark dye that has spread to my heart, killing the way I see myself.  Sample words could be "less", "unworthy", "fat".  Again, no one but myself wrote these things.

I've recently realized this, this horrible truth.  Like Eustace in Narnia, digging deep into his dragon skin, I've been trying to tug it away myself, only causing more pain.  Then, two nights ago, with my husband's help, I realized the words, admitted them and made the step to being whole.  Christ calls me worthy through Him.  I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  It does no good to say the stain was never there, but, Christ is better than a laser treatment.

The reason I'm posting this is to ask this...
what words are you writing and accepting on yourself?

Pinterest

                                               

UPDATE: I'm so sorry, I wrote Edmund instead of Eustace.  Thank you to my cousin for that spot!

what is in a name?

I was blown away at how many read my last post.  It was under 50, but, it was one of my most read posts ever.  I know view count doesn't matter, still, thank you.

Thank you for reading.

I'm very gracelessly trying to revamp the blog.  I'm also seeking out a new name.  I didn't complete the Blogject in the sense of blogging every day, though, I have stuck with at least semi-regularly updating a blog for over a year.  I'll claim victory where I see it.
All that said, I need a new name.  And look.  First a name though.

I'd like y'all's help with that.  I have some words in mind that I love, things that in my mind sum me up.  I need help putting them together.  I liked the name Gypsy Glitter, but, I'm just not sure it's right.  Here are the words though, put them together as you like or throw out some new ones.  Just please comment.

Art.
Beauty.
Belle.  (my mom likes to call me that.)
Christian.
Color.
Dye.
Faith.
Free.
Fire.
Glitter.
Gypsy.
Hippie.
Joy. <-- middle name
Ma Peau. ("my skin" in french.)
Passion.
Rainbow.
Simple.
Spirit.
Wild.
Wind.

Here are some combinations I like:

Wild Passion.  (Could be taken the wrong way.)
Gypsy Glitter.
Glitter Dye.
Dans Ma Peau. ("in my skin.")



I dunno.. help?

Thankfilled Thoughts

As some of you may have noticed, I have been reading "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp. Her writing style is unlike any I have read before. She flows in and out of normal construction and into a beat poet prose. It took me a lot of time to get used to. I know its only 200-something pages, but, I've found myself savoring it. I read maybe a chapter a day, like a bite of fine chocolate. Somethings just aren't meant to be gobbled down. In fact, I'm not sure much is.

All that said, I keep thinking in her way. I keep having poems flow out of me, even about washing dishes. I had a fairly epic one the other day in fact about how wildness is often found in silence for me. It was gooood. Too bad I don't remember it. I think tonight, though, my thoughts are disjointed enough to try it out. I'm not sure how this will work in written form for me. Also, please remember I'm a newbie. I hadn't really experimented in this until I started reading this book.

*Deep breath* Here we go.

ghost fur curled at my feet
dog hyper finally asleep
mind is full of so much nothing.
center quiet despite all floating
memory
sound
thought
ebb and flow like wind in window
curtains covering, flimsy paper.
temperature, house, high,
filled with warmth of humans.
storm filled moments passed,
thunder roaring, lightening flashed.
atmosphere is clear, safe,
heart yet still unsure.
heat rises quickly meeting cool,
words like thunder, tones like lightening.

peace.

calm.

eye.

flashing, energy still palpable.
candle flickers here now later,
flame burns low, adding light not fire.
shimmers.
simmers.
gentle fragrance,destruction bringing beauty.
all to be gone by lights death,
sleep, sleep to fall,
awaken mercies.
Oh awaken mercies new.


Then end.