To My Friends

Hello, readers. I write to you today with a heart that’s heavy and fingers trembling with more than a little fear. I am not accustomed to tackling hot button, people-dividing topics on my blog. There is so much of that floating around, that I’ve never felt compelled!

But today, I’m writing because God put the stamp of “writer” on my soul, and thus I write because I have to. I’m also writing because lately, in all the opinions and emotions surrounding the legalization of same-sex marriage, I haven’t really seen what I’d like to see. And in this turbulent time, I have a strong desire to speak for myself and from my own heart, especially since I have many dear friends on both sides of this issue.

I have seen so many articles, status updates, etc. from the far-end of each pole of this polarizing topic. You, my Facebook friends, are a truly diverse and beautiful group! And I love you all. But where is the common ground? Where does the immutable nature of God’s truth meet the lavish love of Jesus? Please hear me—I don’t pretend to write as one having “the” answer. I don’t hold a doctrine in theology. I’ve taken one formal class on religion, and that was the curriculum-required “Biblical Perspectives” class I took in college. I only write from my heart, my only credentials being that which God has done in my life over the years.

So, yes, my heart is heavy—but perhaps not heavy in the way you think it’s heavy. Not in the shaking-my-finger, “the sky is falling” kind of way . . . but heavy because I see the chasm between us (those against same sex marriage, those for same sex marriage) widening to a place where I’m afraid it will split us right apart. Breaking so far apart that I wonder if we’ll ever be able to hear one another—really hear and see one another—ever again.

But yes, I am also burdened by my country’s decision that runs counter to my beliefs—that is of course a big part of my heaviness. It feels awful to have your beliefs trampled on, stomped on with gleeful cheers . . . to be called the soul-demeaning term “bigot” on account of what you humbly know and believe to be true. And you know what? You on the other side of the chasm? I understand that you yourself have felt this way for a long time. I’ll be honest and confess that the church, as a whole, has done a miserable job of reaching out to you over the years. There has been little to no grace, little to no understanding, little to no love . . . only the harsh judgment of “hell, fire, and brimstone” as the saying goes. And that, my friend, was wrong.

And now, I find myself on the losing end of popular culture and on the receiving end of judgmental words and confident dismissal. And it feels awful. I am sorry that you had to feel this way for so long, and I’m sorry that I feel it now.  I find myself asking, what is the answer? I wish I had one, but I really don’t.

I do know that, no matter what our culture says, I will not back away from the truth of God’s word—even the hard truths, the truths that challenge me and challenge you . . . the truths that hurt and require sacrifice and the supernatural strength of the Holy Spirit. I will not dilute the truth of God’s call on all our lives because of what my culture says. But, that is only one piece of the puzzle, one ingredient in the mix of a life seeking to follow Jesus and stay true to His word.

So while you will not see me celebrating this decision with you, or changing my profile picture to the rainbow flag, it is extremely important to me that you know my heart. I only ask that you hear me and know that the following things will remain true:

I will continue to love you, whatever your belief.

I will continue to love Jesus, stand on His word, and strive to live in step with Him.

I will continue to pray for us all, as our soul-needs as humans run so much deeper than this one issue.

I will continue to place people over politics, because—whatever else you might be seeing out there—that is exactly what Jesus did.

I will continue to treat you with respect and dignity as a person—not because of what you do or don’t believe, not because of who you love or don’t love—but because you are human, God’s most beautiful creation, made in His image and thus deserving of respect and dignity.

Friends, on both sides of the aisle, please hear me—it is fully possible for us to disagree on this issue and still respect one another. Still love one another. That is my heart, and I hope the love and grace with which I write is shinning through to you right now. I hope it drowns out the clanging, angry voices that are so loud at this time. It is my prayer that you can see that. I will never attempt to be your Holy Spirit or to be your judge. But I will continue to be your friend, no matter how far this chasm widens. And I hope you will continue to be mine.

Blessings,

~Meredith

Antisocial Media

Hello, readers!

Please forgive the slight duplicitous-ness in this post, but . . . is anyone else a little tired of Facebook, Instagram, or social media in general? I ask this somewhat rhetorically, because surely I can’t be the only one suffering from social media fatigue.

The full weight of my fatigue hit me the other day as I was scrolling mindlessly while the babies napped, and I came across a photo album composed of some 50-odd pictures and a kitschy “Summah is in Session!” title from a girl I barely knew in college. It felt weird to see her pictures, all these snapshots of her life and her children. I’m not sure I would recognize her out in public, and I’m sure she wouldn’t recognize me. It felt unnatural, wrong even, to be given such a window into her life.

It sent me to reminiscing on the days when you had to earn the right to know someone’s life, to see their pictures and hear about their vacations, new jobs, new relationships, frustrations, and heartaches. Those days before we all started plastering our lives online for nearly anyone and everyone to see, the stars of our own version of “People Magazine.” Mind you, I’m preaching to the choir here, as I have also documented plenty of my own life events online.

I thought about the days when I used to gather at a just-married friend’s new home and flip through fresh-off-the-press wedding photos, cup of coffee in hand. Sitting Indian-style on her couch, a peculiar-smelling relic from her husband’s bachelor days, we’d laugh about the funny candid pictures and talk about how delectable the wedding cake was. Or her crazy mother-in-law. Or that unattractive, unaware groomsman who just wouldn’t stop hitting on me because, I suppose, he thought I dug his "Deliverance"-inspired speech and affect. Not a chance.

Ten years later and neck-deep in this busy, sometimes lonely season of motherhood, I find myself craving community more than ever before. My heart feels heavy as I reflect on 10 years of social media use, because it’s painfully clear that while I know a lot of facts about a lot of people, I do not know people very deeply—not in the way I want to know and be known in a friendship. Not in the way I’d like to share my joys and sorrows, sitting Indian-style on a friend’s couch with a cup of coffee in hand (though now the couch’s peculiar smell is no-doubt that of spit-up).

Those friends I used to call every few weeks, to check in and chat for a good hour? Now I see their lives presented neatly and cleanly online, and they see mine . . . and the entropic nature of life takes over, and those phone calls become less and less common. 

Isn’t it tragically ironic how “social” media has turned genuine, social behavior into a desert mirage? We are by design social creatures (introverts and extroverts alike!), created by God for community and fellowship with one another. I’ve found that these tools promise such fellowship, yet often come up wanting.  Our social media revolution reminds me of the sexual revolution of the 1960s: we’re giving it all away, so free and fun . . . yet we aren’t getting what we actually need, and we’re harming our souls in the process. It’s exhausting and leaves me with an uncomfortable, hollow feeling.

I miss the days of true relationship with others—when communicating meant picking up a phone and planning an outing. Texting serves a wonderful purpose, don’t get me wrong. I’m simply sad to see it replace more intimate forms of communication. You can hide in a text, an e-mail, or a Facebook message. You can edit your photos, your Tweets, your captions. It’s a little harder to edit your voice and your tone, the pain simmering just below the surface of your eyes, that catch in your throat. My mom knows from the moment I say “hey” if I’m doing alright or not. We miss a great deal of context—the good stuff!—when we relate via electronics.

As a side note, perhaps I am burdened by the cause and effect of social media more than others given this season of life: I’m a mom of two precious, rambunctious tots. All my family lives 2,500 miles away. And my husband often works long hours on hard days. Phew. My beloved self-sufficiency has taken a hit (by God’s good design, mind you, but that’s for another post), and I find myself longing for support more than ever before! If you can’t relate, be very thankful :-).

At any rate, whether social media has hurt or helped your relationships, I think we can all benefit from the simple yet profound words of Galatians 6:2: “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” Relationships are so important to God—important enough that He sent His son to earth, wrapping His Heavenly form in earthly flesh and giving Him 33 years to walk in the trenches with us . . . that He might carry our burdens and show us how to carry one another’s. Indeed, after telling us to love the Lord with all our souls and minds (the first and greatest commandment), Jesus said, “And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” (Matthew 22:39 NIV, emphasis added).

I don’t know about your news feed, but I’m seeing very little of this lived out online. More often than not, I see a lot of self-aggrandizement, political bickering, and hateful speech regarding the myriad of social and cultural landmines our country currently faces. Often after spending time on Facebook, I take a step back and think, do I feel more connected and secure now? Or do I feel more insecure, more prideful, or more left out? In brutal honesty, I find the latter to be true more often than I’d like!

But just when I’m ready to throw in the towel and walk away from social media altogether, I see pictures pop up from my church: a sea of young, energetic faces, the faces of children who attended our kid’s camp—and my heart could burst from the pure glory of such innocence and beauty. Or I receive a message from a longtime friend, saying thank you for some words of encouragement that were written into her heart and able to lift her spirits for a day. Or I read the words of a friend, speaking kindness into my day and lifting my own heart.

In these moments, it’s clear to me that these technological tools of ours—while often used for self-promoting, unkind purposes—are freely available for use in building one another up, carrying each other’s burdens, and using words to love and encourage one another. If we are willing to set aside our own deep pride and gnawing needs, we can use social media in our quest to live like Christ and bring glory to His name. I confess I haven’t always done this, and sometimes my own insecurity has gotten the better of me—but it is a goal for which I am striving!

So whether we connect online or in person, let us strive to love and support one another, bringing breath and heartbeat to Galatians 6:2. Words have power, and every word has a consequence. May it be said of us that our words bring consequences of the holy kind—refreshment, encouragement, hope, love.

Blessings,

~Mere

Throwback Thursday

Hi readers! Today I thought I'd do something a little differently and share an old post. I originally posted this on my previous blog New Every Morning, which I have long since made private. 

With Mother's Day and all our birthday celebrations lately, I've been dwelling on how thankful I am for my babies. They are promises fulfilled--living, breathing manifestations of promises made by the LORD to me. It takes my breath away to think of His kindness and compassion, and His unending faithfulness to make good on His word.

But if you're not familiar with our story, then you don't know that it was a long time coming, an agonizing wait of nearly 3 years. To some, that may sound like a lifetime. To others, it may seem like the blink of an eye...some of my dear friends have waited far longer than that. The point is, however, that when your mama heart is sparked and your longing for a child goes into high gear, even a month is a long time to wait for the good news of two pink lines or a phone call telling you that you've been matched with a child.

I wrote the following words 3 1/2 years ago, and at the time, I had no earthly idea what God was getting ready to do. He was gearing up to exceed all my expectations--to do the "immeasurably more" than all I could ask or imagine (see Ephesians 3:20).

I share this with a heart that longs for you to be encouraged--if you're in the discouraging boat of infertility, I hope our story will make your heart long for what God can do in your life. But whatever your struggle, I hope these words will point you toward your Heavenly Father and encourage you to lean into Him in faith a little bit deeper.

Blessings,

~Mere

The "I" Word

December 2011

I've been wanting to write about a certain topic for a while now--but I'm not even sure where to begin. Ernest Hemingway said "There's nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."

Well, this certainly feels like bleeding. I want to talk about that grotesque, heartbreaking "I" word.

Infertility.

Even typing the word makes me feel sick. It's one of those words that shouldn't exist. Infertility shouldn't exist. But exist it does . . . 

And Aaron and I are dealing with it. It is all at once terrifying and liberating to write that sentence. To be sure, this is a major contributor to the emotions and issues of faith I expressed in my last couple of posts. So let me start from the beginning, and I'll do my best to explain in a clear fashion (but no promises, as my mind is anything but clear when it comes to this struggle).

I'm a person who always thought I'd have children some day, but the thought never occupied my mind until very recent times. To be perfectly frank, I was too driven to think about wanting children--my "to do" list is always full of goals to accomplish, and I've been perfectly happy to think about myself, and Aaron, when God brought him into my life.

Still, as law school was nearing its end and our marriage moved towards restoration, we decided to do what lots of couples do: not "try" per se, but rather let nature take its course, as the saying goes. Doing so was a little scary but exciting as well, and the majority of me thought it would happen easily . . . but the deeper, honest part of my heart had a gut feeling that this, too, would be a struggle we would face.

Sure enough, after 9 months of nothing, I decided to discuss the issue with my doctor at a regular check-up. With a false and fragile nonchalance, I told her what was going on. Almost before the words could leave my lips, she began rattling off the next steps for a basic fertility work-up. It would seem there's no middle ground when it comes to TTC ("trying to conceive"). You're either all in or all out, and my doctor assumed I was all in. Going through a whole battery of tests wasn't exactly at the top of my list, but I figured it couldn't hurt, right? 

Well, after various and sundry poking and prodding, everything came back normal for both Aaron and me. A very slight elevation in one hormone led my doctor to think I may have a mild case of PCOS (poly cystic ovary syndrome), but all the other tests pointed away from this. Still, even the mention of something like PCOS sent my head spinning. My doctor asked if I wanted to try fertility drugs, as it seems like doctors hand those things out like candy these days--but we weren't ready for that step, especially considering that everything was normal. 

So, feeling a little uneasy but mostly hopeful, we just proceeded to live life and hope for a blessing each month . . . but month after month after month, we faced nothing but disappointment. And every month, I was so torn about how to proceed--to use the plethora of TTC products available or just forget about it completely? I felt so powerless when not making an extra effort to "try," and yet those products (I'm speaking of things like ovulation predictor kits, etc.) only stressed me out all the more. Facing such heartbreak and darkness each month is exhausting--I'd no sooner regain my legs of faith than the next wave of crushing disappointment would hit and knock me back down to square one. It's exhausting even writing about. . . 

Now, it's been a year since that initial doctor's visit--and obviously still no baby. I recently went to another doctor, almost for a "second opinion" on our situation. After carefully going through all the tests, etc., she was quick and frank with the diagnosis: unexplained infertility. I was able to keep it together during my visit, but of course collapsed into tears the moment I reached my car. It's not as though this diagnosis was a surprise--the medical definition of infertility is trying for a year with no result--and we were months passed the year mark. But still, to hear something so bluntly and concretely--simply and ineloquently put, it's hard.

So that's where we are--it's difficult to discuss, and yet I've always wanted this blog to be a place of honesty and genuineness. I could allow my pride to take over and hold all of this inside . . . but I'd rather be forthright and transparent, as painful as that is, because in the end I long to have a story that will point to God's power, glory and provision in a supernatural way. 

I've been surprised at how much of a toll this struggle is taking on my faith--it feels as though this is the "last straw." I've managed to hold tightly to my Heavenly Father through so much over the past few years, and now I've hit a wall. Every month, every new pregnancy announcement, every birth--it all tears at my faith and is used by the enemy to get me to doubt God's goodness to me. And when I really think about what it means for me to doubt God's goodness to me, I'm overwhelmed with conviction--God has been ridiculously gracious and kind towards me, and has blessed me with more than I could ever deserve.

Isn't that just like our enemy?? Luring us away from the truth and seducing us until we're laser-focused on the one thing in our lives we don't readily have--and feel we most certainly deserve. But you know what? If the Bible shows us anything at all, it's that God is wholly in charge of wombs. It's astonishing, really, to look at how many times the LORD used the longing for a child in order to deepen the faith of His children. Look at Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, Hannah, and Elizabeth, just to name a few. God can absolutely open a womb, even if it is seemingly closed. 

That's why I find our diagnosis of "unexplained infertility" a little amusing, really--is anything unexplained to our Heavenly Father? No--nothing is uncertain or unexplained to my God, the great "revealer of mysteries" (see Daniel 2:47). And how thankful I am that God is not bound by any man-made diagnosis, "for nothing is impossible with God" (see Luke 1:37).

Naturally, facing infertility is not something I ever wanted to do, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. But right now, in our lives, this is a tool God is using to perfect our faith. Malachi 3:3 says that God "will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; He will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver. Then the LORD will have men who will bring offerings in righteousness." (emphasis mine). On most days, I feel as though I'm in the refiner's fire--sometimes on an hourly basis! But the truth is, the LORD is using the lack of a baby to test and deepen my faith in incredible ways. And He's revealing and rooting out some serious places of doubt--doubt that I desperately want to do away with forever. 

As hard as it is to wait on God's perfect timing, I know that I'm learning lessons about Him that will be with me for the rest of my life. I know too that these are lessons I never would have learned had we never struggled with having a baby. I feel confident that God is going to bless us one day . . . but until that time, I have so much to learn about Him. And I know that I can wholly trust my God and Creator, who knows me more intimately than anyone else possibly could. I'm so excited to see what He has in store for us, and I long for Him to dazzle us with His provision as only He can!

Ok, so I know that was long - and I thank you for reading and hearing me out. If you're the praying type, I would sure appreciate your prayers, that my faith would not fail but would increase through this time of testing. There is nothing like the support of other believers! So I'll end with some of my most favorite and dearly-loved scripture:

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; 

and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. 

When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. 

For I am the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior; 

I give Egypt for your ransom, Cush and Seba in your stead. 

Since you are precious and honored in my sight, and because I love you . . ."

~Isaiah 43:2-4

One, Two, Buckle My Shoe

Well, well, I can hardly believe that these babies of mine are now officially one and two. No more newborns and bottles. No more "two under two." And while it's only a date on the calendar, it feels much bigger than that to me. It feels momentous--like we've "made it," as they say.

Trying to put into words this past year feels like an overwhelming, surreal task . . . as overwhelming and surreal as each day, week, month. Whoever said "the days are long but the years are short" could not have been more correct. The year feels like the blink of an eye--yet I know that all the days woven together to compose this year were hard. Hard, and filled with more joy, exhaustion, stress, and love than I can possibly quantify with words!

It is humbling, this job called parenting. I remember feeling so smug and prepared to be a parent before I actually became a parent. Oh, I'll be a great mom! I'll know just what to do. These kids will be lucky. 

Ha!! Wrong. So wrong!

For me, parenting thus far's been tantamount to being blindfolded and set loose in a Survivor-worthy immunity challenge. I suppose it's painfully true that you simply don't know what you don't know. And while I am quite certain that I made many mistakes thus far in parenting, one thing I also know with certainty is that these babies are loved beyond measure. Loved well and prayed for every day. Perhaps  that's what Peter had in mind when he said, "And above all things have fervent love for one another, for 'love will cover a multitude of sins.'" (1 Peter 4: 8, NKJV). I'm counting on this truth, at any rate, and hanging my mom hat on it.

We enjoyed celebrating thoroughly (read: eating LOTS of cake & ice cream!) these past two weeks, relishing in the love and gifts showered down by family and friends. Aaron and I are not the only people who carry a "fervent love" for these babies--a truth that gives me great joy. They are lucky little kiddos indeed--but not because they have me for a mom or Aaron for a dad. Rather, because they are covered by people who love them and come before our Heavenly Father each day on their behalf. I can think of no greater gift to give them than that!

So, let me end this post with just a few pictures, before I myself start crying like a toddler. I can only imagine the trials and battles we will face this next year, but LORD willing, we will survive by the depth of His grace and look up from long days, only to realize it's time for cake and ice cream yet again.

Blessing,

~Mere

Two.

One.

Still standing, after one of the hardest years of my life!

I'm afraid this picture captures what our future looks like . . . She has cake! But I want cake!! Whaaa Whaa!! ;-)

She may not look like me, but she shares my love of cake. First taste was a hit!