Everything was good...until it wasn't.

At the beginning of this year, I challenged myself to write every single. My only resolution of sorts.
Everything was trucking along just fine and then one day, I just couldn't write. Then that day turned into another and into another. I didn't feel good and the last thing I wanted to do was try and write pretending that I did.

This past Fall, I started having random days of just hurting. Deep in my abdomen that would often travel into my back.. I'd have it a few days, it would go away and I'd go on with life.
Then, last month, about the time I quit writing, the pain came back....and stayed.
Everything was good... until one day, it wasn't anymore.
Now, I am not one to go to the doctor. Ever. So I started trying to self diagnose.
I changed my diet,  took my vitamins, drank tons of water and nothing was changing. Well, it was, but it was just the pain getting worse.
I went to see my general practitioner about 2 weeks in because I couldn't take it any more. I was waddling when I walked because everything hurt. Even then, I didn't want to go, but I was out of ideas and needed relief.
She gave me an initial diagnosis, gave me an antibiotic and ran some tests. Tests came back fine and the medicine made the pain worse (and my sense of smelling was on another level and that was terrible. Let me just say, the world needs more Scentsy in it)
But I digress.
After another visit, more tests and no answer, I was referred to another doctor. He ran his own tests, did an ultrasound and those things came back fine. This was a moment to be thankful for because it meant there were no cysts and more importantly, no tumors and for that we give God glory.
But I was still in tremendous pain, getting dizzier each day, can't eat much, and get tired very easy. So what now? I felt like we were back at square one again and in a way, we were, but we also had some direction.
 After talking with my doctor, we have a pretty good idea we know what it is, but it's something that has to be seen to be diagnosed. No tests will show it. Only a camera and that means surgery.
So, on the 27th, I will go in for laparoscopic surgery to confirm what we expect. For the sake of my privacy and modesty, we will leave it at that. The hope is that the laparoscopy will show what we expect to be the case and we can continue forward with a treatment plan. We don't expect this to be anything life threatening, but something that will absolutely, one way or another, have to be dealt with.

Now, if you've been around me in the last few weeks, you may not have noticed anything was wrong. What you're not seeing is that I'm moving a lot slower, getting much less done in a day and am doing a lot of sitting or being still when I am around you. Also, I'm probably not around you for very long, because I'm anxious to get home to my heating pads. I'm also taking a higher dose of pain medicine to take the edge off. It makes me a little loopy, which could be entertaining for you, but not so much for me. All of this is what I like to call "Faking it until I make it".
It's not fair for me to burden those around me with my whining and at the end of the day, I still have responsibilities to fulfill, but they're all that gets done and nothing extra.

So why share this with you? Up to this point, I've been pretty private about it because well, that's just who I am. While I brag on my kiddos and share my business, talk about my shortcomings and praise my great God very openly, this was different.
But I learned something today that I think is important for anyone who is struggling to understand. Maybe not even so much learned, as chewed up and swallowed.

During this last month, I have prayed and asked God to make the pain stop. I mean, imagine feeling like you're having early labor contractions all day... every day. That's what I'm dealing with. It is both physically and mentally exhausting.
One day last week, I was climbing into my husband's truck and it hurt and I started crying. This led my oldest daughter to do the same. She is my mini me, so I had a pretty good idea of what was going through her mind. I asked what was wrong and she said she was scared for me. I told her all she needed to do was to keep praying that God would take it away. Her reply was. "But I am and He's not.". My how it hurt my heart for hers. I reminded her that God's healing comes in many forms. Sometimes by a sudden taking away and some times, because He gives doctors wisdom to take care of it. We just have to trust in whichever course it takes. How hard for her little faith to feel tested because she felt that her prayers for her mommy were going unanswered, but I understood. I felt the same way.
And then I began having trouble praying about it.
I just couldn't.
Words failed me.
It wasn't getting better, it was just getting worse and I didn't understand why.
The enemy really started using that against me and my prayers went from "God please take this away" to "God, I don't know what to say anymore." to "God, you know my heart".
How did I get to a place where I couldn't even pray for myself anymore?
I believe fully in spirit filled healing. 100%. I've seen it. I KNOW He heals, so why am I not being healed?
Then, when I went to my appointment yesterday, and surgery became the next step, part of me felt relief because hope was in sight and part TREMENDOUS guilt. Had I not been trusting God enough to take care of it?  Was I not praying right enough, often enough, asking the right way? Was surgery me giving up on His healing?  Was I sinning by having surgery? Typing these things out now, they seem silly. If I were hearing someone else say those things, I would immediately tell them those were all lies from Hell, but in that moment, that's not what I felt. I sat in the waiting room of the lab department for pre-op bloodwork and cried. I was scared. Disappointed. Worried.

But then, this morning, my sweet friend Carla called. I shared with her the fear I've been facing, the questions, the confusion, the downright angst. How was it that if this was anyone else, I would know what to say and how to pray, but now that its me, I feel bound? Helpless? Weak?
She spoke the most precious words into my heart and reminded me that all those feelings were from one source alone and that was the enemy. Clearly taking advantage of a tired momma who just wants life to feel normal again. A momma who feels like she's burdening her family and can't do much without feeling exhausted. He was the one convincing me that I wasn't loving God enough or trusting Him enough. God wasn't making me feel that way, satan was. Because I've been so ill, I've missed many church services which make my spirit feel even weaker. I'm trying to compensate by doing a devotional and listening to worship, but it's different. He knew that and it made it that much easier for him. Healing can come in so many forms and maybe this is the form mine will come in. It doesn't mean I've given up on God. It means I'm trusting that this is the way He intends to make me well and the fact is, there is still time for it to be made whole before surgery happens. If that's what God's plan is, awesome! If it's not, I have finally found peace in knowing that's okay too.

What I need to share with you to and is my whole point in sharing this is that when it comes to your physical, mental, spiritual, financial or relationship health, God is in it as long as you're letting Him be in it. He is moving on the scene and He is making a way for wholeness. It may be hard to see Him at work, but if you've taken that situation and handed it over to Him, then you have to be okay with whatever He decides to do with it. However He decides to do it.
That's the hard part for me. I'm a control freak. But I think this trial is part of His teaching me to let that go. His ways are always greater than ours. Every. Single. Time.
Healing and wholeness may not come in the form we expect. It could look totally different. Your job, my job, is to lay it at His feet, ask for His peace to fill our hearts and then let Him do His thing.

Secondly, when someone you love asks you to pray for them, really pray. I can admit there have been times where I have said I would pray and then got distracted or busy and totally failed that friend. Not on purpose, but because I wasn't being intentional.
What these last few weeks have shown me was that some times, when people are asking, it's because they're having trouble going before the thrown themselves. They feel speechless before God and need an intercessor. I want to never fail to intercede for another again. I have been resting in their prayers over me because I couldn't pray those words myself and I have been so grateful for them.

Having surgery is the right choice. I have peace in that now. Carla's words were medicine to my soul. Do I want to have it? No. Will I? Yes.
I know some of you reading this are probably thinking that this is just a small surgery (and it is) and that it really shouldn't be causing this much turmoil in my heart.  It shouldn't be, you're right, but it has been. I think when you've felt bad for so long, lots of things feel heavier than normal and if the enemy thinks he can take advantage of that. My cheeks feel tear stained, my eyes puffy and my body tired.

Carla reminded me that He is mine and I am His. The daughter of a King who loves me and will make me well again and in this case, through surgery. That seeking help isn't mistrust in Him. It's using the gift we have in great doctors,  good medicine and capable hands. That takes faith too.

So, if you're still reading this terribly long post, can I ask you to pray for me on the 27th and the days between now and then? For a safe and productive surgery that brings about complete healing and for my spirit to be quieted and listen for God's reassurance when the enemy tries to force feed his lies? I would be so grateful and in turn, will do the same for you.
Also, if you see my hubby or kids, give them some mad props for putting up with me. It hasn't been easy.
I don't even know is most of this made sense, but this is just my heart right now. If it didn't, well, then we will just blame the hydrocodone, k? K. :)

They're not my kids...

4 words my kids HATE hearing me say. No, not about them. About their friends and classmates. "They're not my kids" I say. "You are."

Early on in my motherhood, I found myself praying one day about being a mom. Mom'ing is hard ya'll. No instruction book, just a mix of guidance or examples from others, winging it and a prayer. I don't want to mess it up (even though I feel like I am daily), and so I wanted to know what God wanted from me for them. I didn't feel or hear an answer right away and so I waited, hopeful, that I would at least get some kind of clue as how at least attempt to keep them out of therapy at adults.

One day, Kate was asking for something and I couldn't even tell you now what it was, but the phrase, "everyone in my class has...." Know that phrase? Heard it? Sometimes it's "all my friends get to..." or "so and so doesn't have to..."

The standby reply was ready to come and after the "they're not my kids, you are" spilled out, I found myself continuing the conversation with her when normally, that was that.

It was followed with this question: "Katie, what's my job as your mom?"

*insert blank stare*

"Kate, what's my job as your mom?"

*continual blank stare*

And then, like I'd rehearsed it 100 times before, these words followed...

"To protect your mind, heart, body and soul. To make sure what's going into your mind is safe and appropriate, that your heart is protected from hurt and continually affirmed, to make sure your body is safe, respected and healthy and to make sure you are spiritually fed and serving God."

That was it. That's what God wanted from my motherhood and He spoke it through me, to her, in a moment we were both listening.

My job is not to be my kid's friends. Yes, when they are grown, I hope the relationship we've built through their childhood will yield a close bond and friendship, but right now, I'm not here to yield to their every whim. They can't make the right choice in every situation and my job is to be here to help them do just that. To train them up to be good, loving, healthy, followers of Christ.

So, not focusing on whether or not they like me, means some times those choices are hard ones. Choices they '"hate" me for or choices that seem unfair.

Some of these choices make our kids the "left out" kids because we are doing our best to protect them from an ugly cruel world.

It's why we've chosen for them not to have their own phones at young ages. In an effort for transparency, Kate will be getting one soon, but it will be extremely limited on what she's able to access and will full disclosure that we are the ones in control of it. Yes, that means we'll read every text she sends or receives and she's totally okay with that.

It's also why we are extremely picky about who's house they'll go hang out at and the list of who's house they can sleep over at is even smaller. 

They've never been allowed to have elementary school boyfriends and we don't encourage crushes.

It's why they don't have TV's in their rooms or free reign on the internet. It's why they aren't allowed to watch certain tv shows, movies or read certain books. Because our jobs are to protect their minds, bodies, hearts and souls and everything going into them.

What or who we allow access those parts of them will shape who they are. Shouldn't we all want to be so cautious of what's filtering through to these parts of them?

I need it to be crystal clear that I am in NO WAY judging any other parenting methods or would ever say that if you don't parent like us, you're doing it wrong. I am not that kind of momma. 

I'm also not in any way judging my kiddos friends or their parents. I love the ones they have dearly. They've done a pretty great job of picking their own little circles.  This is just us. This is what I prayed for God to show me. It's just how we are doing it.

In a world where children are being sexualized younger and younger, being told to look or act a certain way by peers, a pervasive social media presence, violence becoming less and less shocking and self worth so deeply tied into what other's think about us, I feel I would be failing as a parent if I was not trying to make sure I was doing everything I could for them to be and feel safe.

We want our girls to know that their value isn't tied to which boy does or doesn't like them.

We want our girls to know that not fitting in, is totally okay, if fitting in means going against their character and morals.

We want our kids to experience the things around them, not just see them on a screen.

We want their sleep to be peaceful and not full of nightmares of things their eyes have seen.

We want our kids to get to be kids.

If wanting all of these things for them deems us "helicopter parents" or them "sheltered", then so be it.

It's our job.

To protect their hearts, minds, bodies and souls.

And we take it pretty seriously.

It's something maybe even as adults we should be better at for our own self. To be more aware of protecting our minds, our hearts, our bodies and our souls.

So now, when I hear those frustrating words "But... (insert phrase of injustice here)" I reply with, "What are our jobs?" and they reply, "To protect our minds, bodies, hearts and souls" and then we discuss what part of that action conflicts with that calling. They get it.  Do they always like the answers? Oh Lord no. Does that always end the conversation or keep us from arguing? Ha! No. 

But they're understanding better, deeper why we make the decisions we do and I think that is garnering a least a little more respect for our choices. More so than this, they're quickly finding we won't make choices on what they can or can't do based on what another kid can or can't do.

They're not my kids, Katie and Abby. You are. And I love you.