Is my desire for privacy greater than my need for prayer?

Over the years, I've really struggled to come to terms with the whole idea of "waiting" until you've completed the risky first trimester of pregnancy to share the most exciting news of your life.  When people share before the magic number 12 people often remark about how early they are sharing.  When people share after the magic number 12 people often remark about how they can't imagine how someone would be able to contain that kind of information.  The double standard is suffocating and I have found myself in both scenarios, many times. 

What struck me the most after the loss of our first baby was how many women I knew personally who had experienced loss that I had no idea about.  How many had "told too soon" or "waited too long" to share and lost the life of a child who mattered to them.  

I soon realized that people don't know how to respond to a mother who has lost a child by miscarriage.  Let me just simplify it, you handle it the same way you would a friend who has lost a child who entered this world by birth. The moment a woman finds out she is pregnant, she becomes a Momma.  Her entire world changes.  What she eats, drinks, the vitamins she takes, her thoughts are consumed as she can no longer forget that there is a baby growing in her body.  She dreams, hopes, plans, and prepares.  And at some point, sometimes, all of the dreams, hopes, plans, and preparations stop when she learns of her loss.  Her life has all of the sudden dramatically shifted and what was to be is no longer coming.  So you treat her like a Momma, one who had a living child in her body that has gone to be with Jesus for reasons we can't comprehend. 

Because now, if she told "too early" she has to bear the burden of sharing her loss.  If she "waited too long" she realizes that others weren't able to share in her joy and so how can she tell them now? 

But you know what she gains when she is able to share her loss? She gains support.  Love.  Compassion. Strength from community.  

And this is where I struggle, with where the silent suffering occurs, when she "waits" to tell and now her loss becomes her secret.  Her sole cross to carry.  Where she finds herself isolated and unsure of what to do next.  Where questions like "When will you start a family?" cut deep because the person asking has no idea that she is trying but feels like she is failing.

Sadly, she believes the cultural lie that privacy is more powerful than the prayers of those who love her.  The lie that whispers, "don't tell before it's safe, you wouldn't want to jump the gun."  "Why would you tell people before you know if it will survive?" "Shouldn't you make sure everything is okay before you announce?"  Where she is pressured to keep her miracle secret because miscarriage is too much for others to know how to deal with.  

Fear of miscarriage is the number one anxiety of prenatal mothers.  God assures us hundreds of times throughout scripture to not fear.  I can't help but to feel like part of this anxiety is attributed to the pressure that comes from how to handle a new pregnancy and sharing with others.

Just recently, I found myself contemplating the subject once again. Then I realized the question I had to answer was, "Is my desire for privacy greater than my need for prayer?"   Essentially, do I fall victim again to the trap that I should wait only so that I may possibly have to mourn in private?

For me, for us, our family, our growing family, I will always chose prayer.  

Prayer over fear.
Prayer over anxiety.
Prayer over privacy.
Prayer over control.
Prayer over uncertainty.

So please, pray for our family. Prayer that the God of the universe would bring this baby to birth in October.  Prayer that His will for our family is greater than our human desires and that if earthly life isn't what is to come that peace would follow in waves to cover us. 

"Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in Him." Psalm 62:5

Baby Hall #2 coming October 2015!

Where Do You See Yourself in 5 Years?

This question always paralyzed me when presented.  I had no idea.  I am not and have never been a visionary, so answering it always felt fake and forced. Like some test question that I would never get right.

I still am not sure I could answer this question, even in my present state of life that is stable and purposeful.  Because to be honest, who can ever foresee the way God will move?

I moved home to Louisville from Dallas exactly five years ago this month.  February 10th. A day, that I have yet to forget.  I can still relive that day, the day that I finally gave up control and begged God to take over because I had destroyed my life with one bad decision after another.

On that day, I could have never imagined that God's plans for me were even bigger than my dreams.  The question isn't, where am I 5 years later, instead it's a declaration...

LOOK WHAT GOD DID!

Look at the life He restored.
Look at the woman He redeemed.
Look at the marriage He built.
Look at the child He gave.
Look at the ministry He created.
Look at the prayers He answered.
Look at the prayers He didn't.
Look at the story He is writing.
Look at the glory He is getting!

One of the most important lessons I've learned in these years is that praying the will of God means being ready for anything.  Praying the will of God is terrifying and beautiful all at once.  For me it has brought the purest joy and the deepest grief. 

It meant walking away from a lot of things, sometimes things I loved and wanted. 
It meant walking away from people.  People who weren't good for me and some who I thought were. 
It meant praising God in hospital rooms were babies lay motionless on monitors.
It meant saying no to lifetime dreams when doors were closing all around me. 

But, LOOK WHAT GOD DID!

It meant finding the love of a man God gave me after a decision of obedience.
It meant giving birth to a sweet little boy named Brooks.
It meant giving up my new job for my dream job.
It meant living each day with the purest trust that God's will for my life is unpredictable yet safe.

So where will I be in 5 years?

Guess we'll just have to wait and see what God does.