Fifty Shades of Christian

Yes, I've read Fifty Shades of Grey.

And I am a Christian. 

I'll wait a second for the shock to pass...

...Ya done?

A couple of disclaimers: 

First, I strongly encourage people to be discriminating about what they're putting into their heads.

There are certainly some things I've read or seen that I wish I could un-know. 

Second, I want to be very careful that folks don't think I'm suggesting they read these books, 'cause I'm certainly not.

That said...

I've read several articles and blog posts on Christian's reactions to the "50 Shades" trilogy. 
Descriptions like "mommy porn" and "trap of Satan" come to mind.

The world is watching to see how Christians engage with real, uncomfortable, and messy issues. 

If we are shocked by a little erotica for the ladies and trying to make the readers feel ashamed and judged, how are we to be trusted by someone who is in a BDSM relationship? 

Way to alienate folks even more.


I've also seen clever blog titles about how God is "black and white" so they're denouncing "Grey".

And that's where my problem lies.

God is righteous and just and perfect and His law is absolutely "black and white."
... Which is why Christ had to die.

When Christ came, he showed us how wrong we really are. 
That our hearts are completely filled with darkness. 

Even the good stuff we do that we brag about is like showing off a nasty used tampon to God saying, "Look what I did!"

Our situation is way more hopeless than we even know.

Humans tried for generations to live by God's black and white laws and found it to be impossible, which is why Christ had to come and save our rears by living the life we could not live and by taking the punishment that we deserve.

Because of this, because of Christ's sacrifice in taking our punishment for us, because of mercy, because of grace, there is no black and white with Christ. All of life is just one great big grey area now, causing us to rely on the Spirit constantly.

While God's Truth is constant, He doesn't reveal all of it, to all of us, all at once. And what He speaks to one will not necessarily be true for another.

So how can I judge what's right or wrong for another person, especially on some of these "iffy" subjects, if the Lord hasn't convicted them of it? 

OR... maybe He hasn't revealed something to me that they've already grasped. Which is why we need to ask Him for wisdom.

My husband and I found nothing wrong with me having the freedom to read whatever poorly written, slightly disturbing literature I chose.

But I don't fault other women for choosing for themselves to steer clear of such graphic writing. In fact, I applaud them.

However... 

Try not to put your personal convictions on others. 
What is okay for some is not okay for others. 
What is bad for some is not bad for others.
What is good for some is not good for others.

Christians should of course hear what the Lord is convicting them of and obey... but they should NOT expect that conviction to be true for all Christians, let alone all people.

Have patience and compassion for each other.

What is now a black and white issue with you may eventually change, based on what God reveals to you in the future, and then you'll have some apologizing to do to the people you judged for not being on the same page as you. 
I'm totally speaking from experience, and I want to save you the embarrassment. 

Sex, Food and Fifty Shades of Grey

An insightful blog post by Jonalyn Grace Fincher

In Memory Of My Beautiful, Annoying Little Sister

Dear Cassie,


It's coming up on a decade without you.

I've been thinking of you a lot recently. 
Too many things remind me of you lately.

A good friend lost her brother.
A friend from high school lost her sister. 
They just found Whitney Heichel.


It's almost your birthday.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer "Innocence"

It's bitter sweet, but I always think of Buffy's 17th birthday when her mom lights the birthday candle: 

Joyce:  Happy Birthday. I don't have to sing, do I?

Buffy:  (looks down at her hands) No.

Joyce:  (indicates the burning candle) Well, go on, make a wish.

Buffy stares at it for a long moment.

Buffy:  I'll just let it burn.

Watching Ringer reminds me too much of you and how much you loved Sarah Michelle Gellar. 
You look a little like her to me sometimes.

Ellie - 7 days old

You have a new niece... who will never know you.
That makes three now. 
You would have loved having three nieces!

Evie (11) and Kaylie (almost 3) Photo by Wickliffe Photography

Evie reminds me so much of you sometimes, it's both eerie and annoying. She has a compassionate heart, a need for justice, and a creative mind, like you.

You would have loved Kaylie's sense of humor and her need to run.

And Ellie's exaggerated expressions and surprising sudden outbursts.

I wish you and Eric had met.
You wouldn't believe what a wonderful husband and father he is.
I wonder if you would have appreciated his sense of humor. 
I think you would have either loved it or not gotten it and hated it and been hostile toward him. lol

I miss you.

So many happy memories, sad thoughts, things and people that you're missing because you're gone. 
People that are missing out on you.

I feel cheated that I only got to meet an incomplete version of you.
You didn't get the chance to grow and change and settle into yourself, like the rest of us.

You'll always be beautiful and young and free.

There was a part of you that was just too beautiful for this world.

I love you.
"Sisters Forever"

CassieBrown.org

Previous Post: 

Heartbroken

I Got To Hear Her Cry

Ellie, 4 days old

You wouldn't think I'd need a reminder, but I did.

In my post "Someone Is Missing", I told how, after losing our baby six months earlier, I was sound asleep and I heard a baby cry so clearly that my eyes popped open.

I took a pregnancy test first thing in the morning and it was positive.

Ellie, 4 days old

Although I felt from the beginning that this was God's promise to me that I would hear this baby cry, I doubted constantly.

I needed no help remembering to say, "God willing," when talking about having the baby.

What I needed more of was hope.

And the reminder that God had given me a promise when I audibly heard that baby cry that night.

And God keeps His promises.

Ellie, one week old - Photo by Wickliffe Photography

Just after 3am Saturday, the contractions woke me up and were 5 minutes apart, 60 seconds long.

We quickly realized this was happening faster than expected!

We arrived at the hospital just before 7am.

Eleanor Anne was born at 

8:20am Saturday, September 29th, 2012

21&1/2 inches, 7&1/2lbs, and lots of hair!

7 day old Ellie with Dad & Mom - Photo by Wickliffe Photography

Tonight while we listened to our 12 day old baby Ellie making little sleepy noises, Eric reminded me that God kept His promise: 

I got to hear her cry.

Ellie with big sisters Evie, 11 (left) & Kaylie, almost 3

Social Taboos & Baby Showers... I call bullshit.

What was a "social norm" is now archaic.
What was "taboo" is now acceptable.

But the same is NOT true for baby showers...

And I call bullshit.

Why is it still a faux pas for a mom-to-be to plan her own shower?

Baby showers are evolving:

They used to be hen parties, but today's men are getting in on the action, too - and rightly so, since without them there would be no baby!

"Couple's Baby Showers" and men's "Poker For Pampers" are becoming more common.

Veteran moms are foregoing "Showers" and are opting for "Baby Sprinkles" or "Blessingways" since they already have the essentials.

Eco-savvy moms-to-be are relying on the internet for invitations, RSVP's, and even "Thank You" notes, which I'm sure my Aunt Vivian will eventually have a stroke over.

So with so many Baby Shower norms being broken, why am I holding to some antiquated rule that says I can't throw a party to celebrate my own baby's life just because she's still in utero?

After all, I planned my own wedding.

I plan my own birthday parties.

I plan all of my kid's birthday parties, too.

Because LIFE deserves to be CELEBRATED!

I only have 2 weeks before I'm due to give birth to this wonderful little parasite who's sucking the life, energy and youth out of me. 

So I Googled throwing my own baby shower and I was saddened by how many moms-to-be who are silently waiting for someone to offer to plan a Baby Shower because they're afraid of what other women will think of them if they do it themselves. 

I'm all for tradition, but when a social norm starts injuring feelings and breaking hearts, then I think it's time to throw it out, like so many others before it.

I also realized something about my friendships during all this:
When a friend of mine is expecting, I assume that someone she's closer to will offer to throw the shower. 
And if I never get a shower invitation then I assume it was a small event and that I didn't make the cut. It NEVER occurred to me before that maybe she just didn't have a shower and was as sad as I am right now.




Honestly, I didn't expect a baby shower for our third daughter!
...BUT... 
Brace yourself, here's another taboo: talking about a miscarriage and a baby shower in the same sentence...

Because we lost our baby Hadassah, I spent most of this pregnancy not in excited anticipation, but in anxiety and sadness.
It somehow felt wrong to celebrate Ellie's upcoming arrival when I hadn't even acknowledged Hadassah's life or death at all.

After Eric helped me get some closure, I'm finally excited about welcoming Ellie into our family!
And it feels wonderful! 

So celebrating my growing belly and Ellie's life has become about so much more than a baby registry or pastel decorations. 

A "Baby Shower", for lack of a better term, is all about being thankful for this season of carrying our baby, and about cherishing Ellie for who she is.

I don't want to wait until she's born - she's alive right now!

And I want her celebrated.

So, no offense to Emily Post, but this mama will be planning her own baby celebration... even if I do only have two weeks before my due date...
No pressure...


"Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter what fork you use." -Emily Post

Naming Hadassah

I love our baby-in-utero just as much as we love our little one that we lost last July.

But the grief from losing the baby we were supposed to meet last March has been getting in the way of being excited about the one we'll meet in October.

So...

We named her. 

Ellie, short for Eleanor Anne. 

And Evie and I took inventory of all our old baby gear.

Then Eric and I went to Target to do a baby registry. 
That lasted maybe 15 minutes.

I realized later that I steered clear of all the cute baby clothes and stuck to the essentials: diapers, wipes, butt paste.

I think I just didn't want to imagine Ellie in tiny little socks until I see those little feet kicking for myself. 

I don't think the problem is that I'm not excited about Ellie.

I think the problem is that I haven't mourned for our baby who died.

At first it was hard imagining even having a baby shower for Ellie.

It felt wrong to celebrate a new life when I haven't even acknowledged this other little life that was so short.

When we lost her, I wanted so badly to pretend like it didn't happen.

I wanted to forget her.

I wanted to ignore the baby that I only carried in my womb for a little while, not realizing that I would carry her in my heart anyway, no matter how much I denied her existence.

But she was ours just as much as Ellie is.

So...

We named her, too.

Hadassah.

I wonder if I'll always miss Hadassah. 

I wonder if, like I did last March, I'll think of her every year, knowing that her birthday would have been written right next to Evie's on the calendar.

But I do feel a little better already.

Hadassah's death isn't overshadowing Ellie's life anymore.

I feel free to love and remember Hadassah, even though I never got to know her.

And I finally feel free to celebrate Ellie.

For the first time since I've been pregnant with Ellie, I really am excited to meet her in just a few weeks!! 

Eric surprised me by bringing the bassinet and changing table into our bedroom.
I started a new registry at MyRegistry.com and this time I was able to visualize having a little baby in the house and everything I'd need and want for the little critter!

I finally feel like God is healing my heart and I am so thankful.
I can't wait to introduce you to Ellie soon!

Previous Post: Someone Is Missing
UPDATE: I Got To Hear Her Cry

"Where nettles grew, myrtles will sprout up. And it will be a memorial to the LORD, For an everlasting sign which will not be cut off."
Isaiah 55:13

Science, Miracles, And Mommy Snuggles

I am phenomenally thankful for scientific advancement and modern medicine in pregnancy and childbirth. 

Modern medicine said I needed to have a Cesarean with Evie.
Having modern medicine available gave me comfort when having a V-BAC with Kaylie.

Not to mention countless stories of modern medicine being used to save the lives of babies and mommies.


I've been holding my breath this entire pregnancy, gripped with anxiety and fear for a good chunk of it.
But thanks to modern medicine, once I hit 20 weeks, I knew that this baby would have a chance to live if something went wrong, and every week brings a little more hope for me.

Photo by All That Jazz Photography - Yep, that's my belly!

But I don't put my faith in science. 
Because science is always evolving.
Science is not always right.


Sometimes modern medicine declares a situation hopeless and won't even bother to intervene:

Like a baby with no amniotic fluid from 13 weeks not only survived, but miraculously thrived: Miracle Joey: The boy wo refused to die

Like, at 21 weeks, the youngest baby ever to be born and survive who's mother had to lie to doctors so that they would help save her life: The Tiniest Survivor: How The 'Miracle' Baby Born Two Weeks Before The Legal Abortion Limit Clung To Life Against All Odds. 

Like a 24 week baby who isn't expected to live... until mommy snuggles do what modern medicine wasn't even going to attempt: Mother's Skin-To-Skin Goodbye Saves 20oz Baby. 

Like the 26 week stillborn in Argentina who had ice on her body when her parents found her crying: Parents Find Stillborn Baby Alive In Hospital Morgue.  

Like a 27 week stillborn who mystified doctors when he came alive after two hours of mommy "kangaroo care" cuddles: Mom's Hug Revives Baby That Was Pronounced Dead.




Modern medicine misdiagnoses 400 miscarriages every year. 
That number won't include the countless women out of the 500,000 pregnancies that end in miscarriage every year who believe their doctor and use mifepristone and misoprostol because it's understandably just too emotionally painful to wait for a miscarriage to complete naturally. 
Here's a story I thought was particularly touching: What My Misdiagnosed Miscarriage Taught Me About Living.




While I am incredibly thankful that God gave us these crazy awesome brains that have the ability to figure out all this science stuff, my trust is ultimately in the Lord and His plans for each baby - even mine.

Science can offer hope - up to a point.
But God offers miracles and unlimited, eternal hope. 
Christ died to save us and defeated death forever.

Tepeyac Family Center - pro-life, OB/GYN, integrated healthcare practice

Photo by All That Jazz Photography

Someone Is Missing.

Fear.
Hope.
Sadness.
Joy.
Loss.
Life.
I feel like I don't have a right to feel the way I do.

We lost our baby last July.
No one knows what to say to that. 
I know I didn't. 
Heck, I still don't.
Some people tried to be sensitive, but usually ended up prying too much and bringing it up when I didn't want them to.
Most people mumbled an "I'm sorry," and continued as if nothing had happened. 
In a culture where abortion is normalized, it sometimes feels like first term miscarriages aren't considered a real tragedy. 
But they are.
Our baby died.


After a lot of crying, I started pretending like it didn't happen.
I was really good at that.
Too good.


6 months later, I was sound asleep and I heard a baby cry so clearly that my eyes popped open!
I took a pregnancy test first thing in the morning and it was positive!

Then came the fear. 

I was afraid to be intimate with my husband.
I held my breath every time I had to use the bathroom, afraid to find spotting.
I sincerely thanked God every time there was nothing to see.
Once I was clear of the first trimester, when miscarriage is most common, I stopped looking at the t.p. in dread.
However, I still didn't call for a doctor appointment, afraid that they would look for a heartbeat and not find one.
I would rather cling to "ignorance is bliss" than not hear the hummingbird heartbeat on the doppler.

Finally, we got health coverage and I ran out of excuses to not see the doctor.
My very first appointment was for the sonogram. 
I hadn't decidedly felt the baby move yet, even though I was 18 weeks along, so I didn't know what they would find.

I silently waited in solemn anticipation as fuzzy versions of tiny arms and legs and spine and head showed up on the screen.
Were the images moving? 
Or was it just the the tech moving the wand around?
Then I saw the heartbeat on the monitor.
Until that moment, I hadn't let myself dare hope that there was a healthy baby growing inside my belly.
I didn't stop crying for the rest of the appointment, I was so relieved and happy!


...But I'm not sure if I've let hope in even now.
I'm reassured every time I feel her bumping around in there, but I still don't feel like she's a sure thing yet.
I'm having trouble getting myself excited for her arrival in just a few months.
I think I'm afraid that I'll fall in love with her, allow myself to hope... 

...and then we'll lose her, too.

I dread trying to talk to someone and getting a bunch of feel-good platitudes, or even scripture, or being "one-upped" by people who think they're helping by showing me how they can relate.

I thought talking about it with someone who understands might be good.

But who?

I don't want to drudge up past grief for someone who I know who has gone through this.

I can't talk with women who have just lost a baby - If I were them, I'd hate me just for being pregnant, let alone pregnant and sad.

Baby Blues and PPD moms aren't quite right for me either, though they'd understand the "I'm supposed to be filled with joy, and instead I'm filled with this crappy feeling" feeling.

I should be holding another someone in my arms by now, and instead I'm carrying a different little one in my belly.
Will I always feel like someone is missing?

As much as I'm looking forward to meeting Baby Ellie in October, I am still so bitterly sad that I don't get to meet the little one we lost. 

And I can't help but fear that I won't get the chance to meet Ellie either.

I don't know how to prepare for a baby that I have so much fear and sadness around.

Yet I feel like I don't have the right to feel this way.

God chose to take our baby and I trust Him.

I feel that hearing that baby cry in the middle of the night was a promise that I'll get to meet this one. 

I just wish that I could feel the way I think a pregnant mom is supposed to feel.

"Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I will depart. The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised." Job 1:21

UPDATE: Naming Hadassah
UPDATE2: I Got To Hear Her Cry

 

Links:

Pregnancy Resource Center

What To Say When A Friend Or Relative Has Had A Pregnancy Loss

Baby Blues Connection 

HEART - for abortion-related trauma 

Heartbroken

Sometimes life throws something so big at you that time stands still for months.

When you finally remember to look up, you sincerely wonder how the rest of the world has just keep going, as if this life-altering event never occurred. 

Something so traumatic that it changes how you keep time.

All other events are now remembered as "before" or "after" it happened.

You can tell by your Facebook page that it's changed you forever - that part of you died with them.

Your own status updates from the days before are too happy, or complaining about something so trivial that you're embarrassed and contemplate deleting them.


After it happened, I couldn't stand the color red because it reminded me of blood.

I hated the dark and the night. I only slept during the day.

I wouldn't leave the house at all, unless it was to go to court or the police station.

Once I was able to leave the house, I would drive miles out of my way to avoid having to drive by the place it happened.


"Time heals all things" feels like a lie.
You're faced with a never-ending stream of flowers, cards, phone calls, doorbells, and casseroles in dishes you'll have to return.
Well-meaning people tell you they "understand", as if they ever could.
And then as if to prove it, they tell you their own terrible story.
Or worse, they offer you the advice of "moving on" or "getting past this".


But then there's a few people who you realize actually do understand like no one else can.
They've stood in the exact spot you're in now and they somehow came out the other side.
Forever altered, but alive, offering hope that you will survive this, too.

I was once asked if time really does heal all things.
I didn't know how to answer - how to offer hope and honesty in the same sentence.
I finally answered, "Time changes things."
You may never feel fully healed, but you won't always feel so raw.
You never get over it.
And every loss after that seems to compound on top of that one big one.
You feel like you'll never be okay again.
The "okay" you're expecting belongs to the person you were before it happened.
But there is a new normal, a new "okay" ahead for the person you are now.
And you will find it.

One day you'll find that you've learned to breathe again.

I remember one day realizing that I hadn't thought about it at all for an entire day.
I felt confused and guilty, like I had inadvertently betrayed someone I love.

It's been 9 years now.

It's okay that I don't think about it for days.

It's also okay that I remember.

It's okay that I talk about it.

And it's okay that I'm still heartbroken.


But it's okay that I'm happy.

It's okay that I live.


I don't pretend to know why God allows terrible things to happen.
All I know is that He is a loving Father who loved you so much that He didn't even spare His only Son's life in order to be with you again. He is a God who knows your agony first hand and He wants desperately to comfort you in your grief. 


Click here for an article on Dealing With Greif: Five Things NOT To Say And Five Things To Say In A Trauma Involving Children


He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. 1 Corinthians 1:4


He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever. Revelation 21:4


Parents Of Murdered Children: pomc.com



This song has reminded me of my sister, Cassondra Brown 1984-2003, since the first time I heard it shortly after her death: 

So you STILL Think God Is A Merciful God?!

A beautiful perspective from a woman who was at the midnight showing of Batman with her two daughters.

Who's watching you?

Kaylie just broke my necklace. 

I didn't even see that she had it in her sticky little hands... and then I heard the sound of dozens of beads hitting the floor all at once & rolling in every single direction.

At that moment, I had a choice to make:

#1 - I could freak out. "What did you do?? How did you get that?? You broke my necklace!! I loved that necklace!! You should have been more careful!! That wasn't yours!! That wasn't a toy!!"

#2 - I could exercise some self control and act like someone that I would be proud for my children to imitate.

Thankfully, I had just read this scripture today,
"Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ." 1 Corinthians 11:1
So, by God's grace, I cheerfully hopped up and we made a game of picking up the beads together.

This experience has reminded me that my children are watching everything I do.

Every time I vent to Eric about having a bad day.
Every time I choose to have another cup of coffee with facebook instead of washing the dishes.
Every time I roll my eyes at something Eric does (not that I ever do that).
Every time I lose my patience with the kids.
The girls notice it all.

When Paul wrote the letter to the Corinthians, he wasn't talking to kids.
He was inviting his peers to watch his every move so they could compare it to how Christ would have acted so they could imitate accordingly.

I don't know about you, but I don't think I'd like someone scrutinizing my every move and comparing it to how Jesus would have acted.
Why?
Because I wouldn't measure up very well.

Who's watching you?

"A dream without a plan is just a wish"

"A dream without a plan is just a wish."

-Larry Elder

RESOLUTION: the state or quality of being resolute; firm determination; expression of desire or intent.

A few years ago, my New Year's resolution was... to not make any more New Year's resolutions... And that's the first one I've kept. Ever.


It seemed to me that the same people were making the same resolutions every year because they hadn't  accomplished them the previous year. I can count on one hand how many resolutions I know about that have made it past February.
And I've personally never made a resolution that made it to the end of January, leaving me with feelings of guilt, failure, and hopeless frustration.

Then this year I had a brilliant idea!

This year, instead of resolutions, I would set real goals!

GOAL:  an observable and measurable end result having one or more objectives to be achieved within a more or less fixed time frame.

The reason I know this idea is so brilliant is because when I shared this new brilliance with my husband Eric, he didn't think I was brilliant on my own.


Eric has been reading Dave Ramsey's EntreLeadership and he thought I had read the chapter entitled "Start with a Dream, End with a Goal", where Dave says, "Years ago Sharon and I started the tradition of setting goals at the beginning of the year. Not New Year's resolutions, but real goals."


I could get annoyed that my husband thought I was mooching off of other people's brilliance, but I've decided to take it as a compliment instead. If Dave Ramsey thought enough about this whole "goals vs. resolutions" thing to write it in his book, then it has to be brilliant, right? Right?


Eric suggested I read that chapter and I'm so glad he did. In fact, I suggest you do, too because I'm not going to tell you all the good bits I got from it.


But I will give you a couple of quotes to pique your interest and so you know what the heck I'm talking about for the rest of this post:


"You just can't do big things without making your goals specific, measurable, yours, with a time limit, and in writing."


Dave Ramsey, along with other goal gurus, know that "you have to set goals carefully and intentionally in every one of [the following] areas":

1. Career
2. Financial
3. Spiritual
4. Physical
5. Intellectual
6. Family
7. Social

Zig Ziglar calls this "the wheel of life."
"If you leave one side of the wheel flat, you have a flat tire."
Some of these "spokes" come more easily to me than others. 

Photo by All That Jazz Photography

But when I told Eric that I didn't want to set any physical goals he said, "Then you'll have a flat tire."


Dangit.

So if I don't work on my "spare tire", apparently I'll have a "flat tire" in my goal setting.


I'm thinking and praying through how to stretch myself in the areas that are not easy for me, without setting what Derek Sivers calls "bad goals" which you can read about here.

I'll probably take some advice from Dave Ferguson: 6 Questions That Create A New Future.

I may even go crazy and take Jon Acuff up on this challenge: I dare you to do this with me. 
 
I'm still torn about sharing my specific, measurable, time limited goals in these 7 areas with you all and possibly embarrassing myself by revealing what I want to work on, or if I want to heed Derek Siver's advice to "zip it", which you can watch at the bottom of this post and/or read about here.

Happy 2012 and may you all go confidently in the direction of your dreams!

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams!"

-Henry David Thoreau