A New Name...

Rattles shaking, our baby played contentedly on the floor next to me.  I waded through piles of boxes looking for master bedroom items.  A familiar voice came on the television… the country music star, Trisha Yearwood.  She apparently has a cooking show now.  I listened as she called her husband “Gartha Stewart”  (aka Garth Brooks) and giggled at some of the things he likes to do in the kitchen.  She went on to talk about when she married Garth, she “inherited 3 daughters.  Being a bonus mom, its very important…” her voice trailed off as she talked about cooking favorites and such.

I've always had a sour taste in my mouth for the term "step-mother".  Perhaps it was because of the numerous fairy tales I watched as a kid.  Or maybe the horror stories my mom told me about her step mother.  Either way, I never dreamed I would one day become... dunt-dah-dun... a wicked step-mother!  I pray I never do.  Given over to my flesh, I can be pretty wicked, but PRAISE God, I am redeemed!  When I married Dave I made it my goal to be as far from wicked as I could possibly be.  I know I've been nowhere near perfect, but I always try to be Christ-like as best as I can.

Bonus mom…   I like it.  I’ve always referred to myself as the smom, or back-up mom.  But Bonus mom is WAAAAAYYYYY better!  And that is exactly how I long for my “bonus kids” to see me… as a bonus to their lives.  Not taking away, or trying to replace, but adding to what they already have.

Honestly, it’s also how I long for their mom to see me too, a bonus for her children, and a bonus to help her in raising their children as well.  Someone who will be Jesus to them, love them where they are at, and encourage them to respect her and love her well.  Obviously, their dad would, hopefully, already see this!

It isn’t easy to keep these thoughts in the forefront of my heart.  Lots of hurt and painful situations come into play.  Times when I wish I could just fend for myself and want to just repeat “what about me? What about me?  What about me?”  But then there is that calling I continually hear…

The calling of the “bonus mom”…  To be the best reflection of Jesus Christ that I can be to ALL people, no matter what.  This is deep stuff.   Not the kind of thing you can accomplish on mere woman might.  But rather, it takes the Almighty power of a Great God and His Spirit residing within, to rise above.  

For “He is the vine and we are the branches, apart from Him we can do nothing.”  

I know it is only FROM HIM that I can receive strength, courage and peace to go where I am called and live as I am called to live. 

“Not by might, nor by power, but by MY Spirit, says the Lord.”  

Yep- that is the ONLY way.

We can DO ALL THINGS through HIS strength!

“ Do you really think anything about this life can be “great”?  I mean, what would it take to make what we go through even o.k.?”

I stared across the table at my beautiful friend responding to my cry for marriage and family to be great again, and questioning if step-family and second marriages could ever come close to the intimacy and closeness that families of first origin seem to be born with. 

Sadly, I knew what she was saying.  Each and every day I wake, I see broken.  As I pass by the pictures in our hallway to head downstairs, I see a fragmented combination of two families trying to pick up the shattered pieces to fuse together and operate as closely as they can as one. 

Problem is, fusing doesn’t work.  No matter how much we want to operate as a whole family, we never will.  That reality crushes my hope and leaves me utterly sad.  So, what to do?

We were recently blessed with our first “ours” baby.  She brought so much joy to our hearts.  There were quite a few happy moments listening to our kids trying to figure out whom she looked like and where she got what traits.  She seems to bring all of us together into one person.  Bound by human blood.

I could go on here and talk about how the blood of Christ binds us in a way no human could, but that isn’t where I am feeling led today.  See, I look into her face, and the expectation of having that little family bubble like you do in families of origin is impossible for her.  She has been brought into this brokenness too.  She will always know that her siblings have other parents and other loyalties.  Issues that we shouldn’t have to deal with, we do.  The other week one of the kids in talking to her referred to one of us by our first name… no.. I am her mommy and dad is her daddy, end of story- approaching that stinks.  Holidays after my husband and I are gone will be broken with the fact that she will have no other family to celebrate with.

Brokenness.

I recently sat at a table surrounded by precious women seeking after God and learning about His perfect love.  As on most first days, we went around the table introducing ourselves.  Names, then years of marriage followed.  I felt the lump in my throat grow larger as my turn was coming. “What was I going to say? What would they think? “ I mulled over my words.  Ashamed, I could feel the weight of the albatross like necklace growing heavier and heavier.  Tears welled up and I tried my best to choke them down. 

My turn came.

“I’m just going to lay it all here out on the table right now.  I’m Becky Nordquist.  I used to attend here for 18 years until my first husband abandon me with our four kids.  I am remarried and we have a new little baby, Grace.  I’m here because I need to work through loving well.  I need to grow here because I do not love our exes well, and I realize that as a child of God, I’m called to forgive and love well.  I hope to use what God teaches me, to encourage and help others.”

I took a deep breath, swallowed hard and left the room to go feed the baby.

Thank goodness the nursing room is secluded.  I sobbed as I rocked back and forth nursing our sweet Grace baby.  I wanted to leave, quit and never come back.  Tears streaming down my face, inwardly I screamed.

“God!  I HATE this!  I hate having to wear the scarlet letter of divorce!  I did not choose this!  I hate what it’s done to our kids, what it’s done to us!  We didn’t want this!  Other people chose it for us and we’re stuck carrying the load!  I hate that I have to live in shame and embarrassment!”  All I heard was…

“I know.  I know about bearing things that you didn’t choose.”

Gulp.

“We don’t attend small groups anymore.”  She said with a saddened look on her face.

“Why?” I questioned.

“Because of the first meeting… you know, you have to give the litany of your life… the how long have you been married always comes up.  Then you feel like people are looking down their noses at you.  You never really get the chance to explain that you were cheated on and had no say in the matter, and a lot of times that wouldn’t matter anyway. We got tired of feeling judged and no one really understands.”

My heart broke.  Others wanted to ditch community too because of the hideously heavy necklace we are forced to wear.  The only ones who really understand are the ones who bear the same burden.

Then I hear a whisper,

“Come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.”

My flesh cries-“Rest?! How is there anyway possible to obtain rest here?!  In this mess?!  We have kids who want nothing more than to see their parents together, no matter how miserable, busted relationships, a full spectrum of emotions, people who want their say on how we live our lives..  rest?  Where?!  How?”

Then Truth speaks…

Rest in knowing that in the midst of broken lives, broken ideas, shattered hopes, and fragmented dreams, HE is WHO He is.  He will be faithful to show me what I need to learn here.  He will use me to love and help to heal others.  None of this goes wasted.  Refinement is precious, it means we are loved so much that God Himself chooses not to leave us the way we are, but to advance us to maturity, in order that we be useable, and even more ready to meet Him face to face.

Now more than ever, we(Dave and I) are committed to seeking out a place for stepfamilies to have community too.  We need it more than the average family and marriage.  The unique set of circumstances and the levels of brokenness are too difficult to traverse on your own.  We need each other.  We need each other because iron sharpens iron my friends.  When we are called to love and pray for those who persecute us, our enemies… most often they can be called steps & Exes-  we need each other and the strength of an Almighty Super Powerful God! 

Phil. 4:13

I can do ALL things through CHRIST who gives me strength!

Awakening from slumber...

It takes 9 months to make a baby.  So, after 9 months on hiatus from blogging on the subject of stepfamily, here is the birth of the newest blog.  I could say that it was because of having our sweet little Isabella Grace (our first “ours” baby), or because we’ve been busy, or I’ve been taking care of my mom while she has been battling cancer, or just because I’ve had a few hang nails that bother me when I type.  Truth is- well it’s all true, but no excuse!

Looking forward to sharing with you the challenges we ‘ve faced over the last 9 months.  Isabella Grace has made quite the addition to our clan!  I look forward to sharing with you all about that.  God has blessed us with many opportunities to pray and spend time with folks who are living in “Step-ville”, and walking this road with us.  Much has been gleaned from those conversations. 

Another area where I am really excited to explore is the topic of Loving well.  Tomorrow I begin making the trek up to Rockford for Tuesday Morning Bible study to begin “Loving Well” by Beth Moore.  I have always realized that we don’t get a pass card on Loving in this life and circumstance that we are in.  There are no conditions to loving as Christ, no excuses (I hate that at times!)  So I am praying that the Holy Spirit will teach me and change me, and I promise to be brutally honest with you about the process!

Pray with me as I explore some conversations regarding stepfamily living and relationships.  Especially pertaining to girls and their response to moving forward in acceptance of the new life thrust upon them.  Why is it that boys seemingly accept this quicker and more easily?  Why do Step-moms get a bad rep just because they try to love their husband’s children?

Look for a new blog this week!  And again, I’m sorry, it’s been far too long…

Keep Walking, enjoy the view.

Circumstances are just background scenery for the journey we call life.  As we continue down the path, the scenery changes and fades.  The landscape that once seemed so prominent and right in our faces, has fused into a menagerie of colors and is in the constant process of being forged into a masterpiece that can only be seen by the Great Artist Himself.

I look back over the last several years of our stepfamily life.  All of it’s struggles, heartaches, triumphs, and learning experiences.  I see that it is not unlike any other struggle in life. 

We are always called to Love God, and Love others.  We are called to forgiveness.  We are called to be other centered.  We are called to live as Christ lived and love as Christ loved.  A tall order, yes, but not impossible, and if we allow Him, God can use this very trying and difficult road to refine us in ways that no other path could.  These are not things that we can muster up the strength and muscle our way through.  It is only through the power of the Holy Spirit and His strength that we can even desire to follow through.

I can finally say that I am truly grateful for this road.  I’ve had days where I have cursed it.  Days I would’ve given anything to trade it in, to go back in time and change the cards life had dealt us and the ones we picked up ourselves.  Then I must remind myself that my comfort and happiness is not what life is about.  These momentary struggles and trials bring about a greater purpose for my life & God’s Glory.

What use is a life that has no color?  I believe with all that I am that our pain does not go wasted in the hands of our redemptive God.  This holds true for our children too.

In stepfamilies we are called to love in deeper and more sacrificial ways than the average person.  We are challenged to forgive 70 x 7.  We have an awesome opportunity to wrestle with our flesh and seek to become better, not bitter, deep, not disgruntled, but ultimately we are offered an invitation to draw close to an Almighty God who can walk us through each step, joyous and painful.  We are offered the chance to love the hurting, and offer a cool cup of water to the broken…as these are the children living under our roof. 

As I take in the scenery, I am reminded to keep my eyes set on the horizon.  For just over that horizon is my destination- eternity with my King.  Each passing scene can draw me closer to Him or further away from deep communion with Him, and it is solely my choice.  Each step, each day draws me closer to that horizon, I get to choose what kind of shape I am in when I walk over that hill.  I am deeply convicted and challenged by this.  

Losing Loryn...Lesser things

Lesser Things… Philippians 3:8(MSG)

Yes, all the things I once thought were so important are gone from my life. Compared to the high privilege of knowing Christ Jesus as my Master, firsthand, everything I once thought I had going for me is insignificant - dog dung. I've dumped it all in the trash so that I could embrace Christ

There have been days when I have seriously wondered if the tears would ever stop or the sorrow cease.  Staring into the twisted green branches being tossed about by the wind I deeply enjoyed the dance of the willow tree in the bright spring sunshine.  Soft green grass provided a cushiony bed for me to rest upon as the dog settled herself against my side.

I had meandered out to the backyard to plot out Loryn’s memory garden.  The patio resting underneath the willow would make the perfect place to write, drink coffee or visit with a friend.  Flowers would be plentiful, most suitable for cutting.  I had planned to make stepping-stones with scriptures that are speaking to me throughout this journey to be placed as a reminder of the beauty being formed out of the muck and mire.

The tender flowers would remind me of the hope I have, in having found Life in Christ.  Not in the things of this world, but in His.  Hope eternal, Hope everlasting… Hope that never dies, anticipating His return and righting of everything wrong, everything broken, hope of His person in person

.

Hope… what is hope exactly? 

According to Webster, Hope means to cherish a desire with anticipation.

In examining my heart I have to ask myself some difficult questions.  First, what is it that I am cherishing with anticipation?

In these past months I have “cherished” having a baby…  I must go then to asking. 

Should I CHERISH anything other than God, His presence in my life?  His will for my life? 

Perhaps for some it is ok to cherish things other than Him, however for me, I can hold things and people dear, I can love… but cherish?

God is a jealous God.  He asks to be the ONLY God of my life, my first love.

Honestly, my thought life has been consumed with preparing for the baby, loving the baby, all things baby…  Where did my focus shift? 

Instead of spending the majority of my time on studying scripture or lifting others in prayers to Him, I became more focused on studying pinterest for the latest baby ideas or recipes.

Anything I spend more time reflecting or working on above knowing, loving and serving God is an idol.  Ouch, a difficult realization to come to.

It would be different if I were bringing God into the moment.  Not that I didn’t do this, I just see that wanted my way more than I wanted His.  I wanted this baby more than I wanted whatever He was going to allow to sift through His hands and into my life. 

I’m sorry this is ugly truth to read, and some of you may think less of me after this, however, it is of more importance to bring truth in struggling closer to God than to make everyone feel comfortable.  I think we all have a tendency to want our will above His to some degree- or at least have moments of frustration when things don’t go according to our plan or we don’t receive the desired outcome… right?  Haven’t you ever sat and pouted angrily when life throws you a curve?  Be honest with yourself… and God- it’s not like He doesn’t already know!  If you’re feeling defensive- ask yourself why?

In this journey, I believe God is asking me to examine where I spend my time, how I spend my thoughts, what do I give my energy to?  Is He in first place?  Am I embracing Him above ALL else? 

In recent days I have found that the more time I spend Embracing Him, I have peace in the midst of pain, I have strength in the midst of struggle, and Hope that exists above happy circumstances.

Philippians 3:8(MSG)

Yes, all the things I once thought were so important are gone from my life. Compared to the high privilege of knowing Christ Jesus as my Master, firsthand, everything I once thought I had going for me is insignificant - dog dung. I've dumped it all in the trash so that I could embrace Christ

Losing Loryn...

“Do you trust me?”  I drove on silently through the city streets.  Again, I heard that gentle quiet voice… “Do you trust me?”  My heart raced as I shuffled through the endless possible outcomes of todays ultrasound. 

The doctor said everything looked great last week.  Just a little behind where we thought I should be at this point of the pregnancy.  He stated there was no reason to be alarmed really; growth was just a little behind… perhaps my dates were off.  I knew they weren’t.  We’d been trying to conceive for several months now.  I knew everyday of my cycle like the back of my hand.  I had faithfully kept track of my body temperature, my mood swings, physical side effects during certain portions of my cycle.  I even knew when I ovulated that month.

“Do you trust me?”  I looked toward the sky and mustered a soft, “Yes Lord, I am determined to trust you no matter what.”  Deep inside I just knew.  I knew that something out of my control was about to happen.  Breathing deep I pressed on toward the office to see what , if anything, had developed in the previous week.

Only four days of development.  No heartbeat.  Not a good pregnancy.  In the words of the ultrasound tech… “You’re not going to keep this one.”  My heart sunk and a large lump swelled in my throat.  I watched tears fill my sweet husbands eyes as he stared at the ultrasound screen.  They wanted to do a D&C the next day.  I opted to wait one more week to see… four days of development was better than none.  I love and serve a God who works miracles.  This was our miracle baby…surely…

I ached.  I cried.  I sang…  Through my tears I sang in the shower…

“Oh no, you never let go through the calm and through the storm…Oh No, You never let go, every high and every low…Oh no You never let go…Lord You never let go of me.”

The water began to chill causing me to shiver.

“Blessed be your name on the road marked with suffering, though there’s pain in the offering…Blessed be your name.”

Wrapped in a soft white cotton towel I forced more sound out of my soul.

“His eye is on the sparrow…and I know He watches over me…”

 The voice I heard singing sounded foreign.  Some weary, broken soul who could barely carry a tune, pathetically singing in the shower…  it was raw…it was agonizing… it was real.

My prayers turned from begging God to help our little one to one much like my Lord prayed… “ Not my will, but Your will be done Father.”  Deep inside, I was screaming “Please!  Oh God!  Please!  Don’t make me walk this road!”

My head in my hands each morning, tears streaming down my face and onto the pages of my Bible as I read through my devotions praying for answers and longing for comfort… all about trust, all referencing waiting.  I knew God was speaking.

This baby held hope for us, a new beginning.  This was the one that would be “Ours”.  No one else to share this baby with.  No other homes.  No divided loyalties.  We would always have someone home for Christmas and holidays, no dividing of time or hearts here…  Our baby partly signified our love for God and for each other.  This baby would bring blood bonds to our family, a piece of each of us, which meant part of our kids as well…no step… a part of blood relation.   A piece to our puzzle in Stepville.

The labor had been intense.  Six hours of contractions and pushing… not what I had expected when I was told that I would more than likely miscarry.  I knew the precise moment it was finished.  I felt as though life had left my body.  Empty and unable to put verbiage to the carnage I felt physically, I trembled in fear and disbelief.  Staring wide into the eyes of my beloved husband I looked for something that would fix it.  There was no fix.  Hope forsaken.  No more prayers to be said for this little life that we had hoped, planned and prayed for.  Dream filled hearts were now broken, abandon and empty.  A ghost town of what resembled faith was all that was left. 

I cried out as I stared terrified into the face of my husband.  My sweet love embraced me as I sat sobbing and screaming on the toilet.  His sobs could be heard just under mine. 

Visions of kissing sweet little toes and fingers passed through my hands and were swept away into a large blackened sea.  Giggles and chasing through the house disappeared into a wind of desolation. 

The dream was over.  Hope was gone.  Life had left me.  Empty.

No baby to hold.  No cheeks to kiss.  No tiny hands to hold or feet to tickle.  No little one to take into my lap or place on my breast.  Just a hole where there was supposed to be a life remained.

Waves of despair passed through moments of anger pummeling me into a pit of brokenness.  How can the finite mind wrap itself around infinite purposes?  How can one who is nearly blind see the vast expanse of God’s Glory or plan?

I’d been through enough fire and nearly drown in enough storms to know that the “why?”  question is futile to ponder longer than a moment. 

So I lay there staring blankly at the flowering buds on the tree outside my bedroom window.  Longing for my sweet flower Loryn to be in my arms.  Stinging tears clouded my eyes, exhausted physically, emotionally and spiritually I sobbed and longed to touch her sweet face.  Tired of the fight, my aching clenched fist fell open and so did my heart.

“Okay God…okay… I wont ask why…I ask what… What am I to take from this?  What will you show me in this?  What can I learn?”

The upcoming blogs will focus on those things that He has and is teaching me through this journey of loss. 

I pray your heart is blessed.  I pray that you will be encouraged to ask “what?”  Instead of “Why?”…  To embrace the “Who” of Who He was Who He is, and Who He will continue to be… regardless of our circumstances.