2018 was a worse roller coaster than Ferrari World’s fastest roller coaster. I know, because I was on it in 2015 and boy did I hate it! Thrill, speed and fast, unexpected change is not my thing. Not at all. I try, but not that often. Like, I want to go sky diving and deep sea diving but I’m keen on doing these things with my hubby who, by the way, is less of a thrill seeker than I am. So… I guess we’ll be riding the boats and tea cups at Disney World. Haha! For real though, this is my life. Thanks Dave.
During the first week of the year, I had a dream where I was walking, only this time I was walking with the help of a crutch. In the dream, I realized that it was a hassle to walk with it so I tried walking on my own without it. Turns out I didn’t need the crutch after all. So what did I do? I ditched the crutch, ran up a hill and found my love (we were at an event), sat next to him and we did one of our dancing seated choreos (to the delight of a few onlookers). We were smiling and laughing, they were too. And then I woke up.
The moment I woke up, I remember I asked myself what crutch I thought I needed but didn’t. I came up empty. Then this song rose up in my heart and I immediately knew it was the theme for my 2019 with everything we had been through.
I am no victim
It’s easy to spin in the vortex of pain and grief. I very well did last year. And it made me angry and sad and disappointed and fearful. Pretty much do a Subway footlong and add every negative soul sucking emotion. That was me. I hated the idea of hanging out with people. I didn’t think they’d have room for me to go through what I’m going through. I was yo-yoing on the community aspect of the faith so much that God had to tell me explicitly not to avoid people (code for I know you’re quitting on folks) and then not so explicitly the day after by showing me how my life would turn out if I did.
Grief and pain makes the worst lenses, justifiably or not. And I was rocking the hell out of those glasses like they were the latest Ray Bans. I wouldn’t admit it, but looking back, I lived from a victim perspective. Sure, God was healing me and I was mostly good on the inside but there was a pain that brought a sinking perspective to me. It wasn’t fun.
At the end of the year as I rested, I realized that if I didn’t let go of the rest of what I had let have a hold on me, I’d be stuck for a long time. And so I did. I’m now practicing talking about it but I’m getting there.
I live with a vision
On the very morning I feared I was miscarrying again, I had an older lady friend over; someone who’d been through it, I mean BEEN THROUGH IT, and still held on to God. And she encouraged me and gave me such a greater perspective than I had about the relational part that wasn’t okay when I was grieving. And it helped. It did, A lot. Later, when Dave came home from work and we ate dinner and prayed, she told me of a vision she had of two kids running in our house, boy and girl, and it didn’t surprise me. If you know me, if you’ve followed my ramblings since 2015, you know this was something I saw even before Dave and I started dating. I just knew.
And when she left and I realized where I was, I remembered Kristene DiMarco’s song. I remembered the dream and realized I could easily wear the second miscarriage as a crutch. But like I said, it was exhausting. Very. I had to choose joy, even as I asked my husband to bring me pads because it was happening again. Even when I bled Monday through to Sunday. I had to fight to keep my eyes open because dear God, it was the start of the year and if I didn’t get it right 2019 would be a bust!
He’s not just reviving
Not simply restoring
Greater things have yet to come
Greater things have yet to come
Am I still scared? Yes. Am I still grieving albeit a little lighter? Yes. I’ve had many dreams about friend’s pregnancies (those soon to happen and those yet to be announced but baking) and I’ve been telling God to spare me. I wanted to deal with everything without pregnancy and baby stimuli in my face but God isn’t having any of that, hence the dreams and a leadership scenario that has me in baby central. If I could, I’d have opted out but I can’t. I guess He was preparing me but goodness. Feels like too much too soon.
I normally don’t carry friends’ babies (even before the dreams) because like I said, I want to reduce baby stimuli. I want my dreams to be free of babies, lol, because I’m a dreamer. But that’s out of the question now. They just keep happening. I think God is letting me dream about other people’s pregnancies to bring out the poison in me. To bring out the fear. To expose it and heal it and address it with a promise. But He’s doing it slow. At first, it felt like torture. I didn’t ask for them. I didn’t want them. I wanted other things, other dreams yet that was all I’d see. And I’d tell God, deep down in my heart because it was too heavy for words, will I also be the last in this? Will everyone else go before me on this? Which is really to say, will mine ever happen (the soon is silent but heavily implied).
I still want to bury my head in the ground and have a great year without baby stimuli but looks like that ship has sailed. I feel like Avatar Korra (brilliant Nickelodeon cartoon series by the way) when she runs away from being an avatar after battling Zaheer and as she’s hiding and trying to recover in the swamps, she meets an old wise lady (Toph, if you know, you know) that can bend the mercury poison out of her but decides it’s better if Korra does it herself.
I think that’s what God is taking me through, and so aptly if I do say so myself, because using The Avatar? Smooth move God. Smoooooooooooooth move.
I feel like Korra, struggling with the past but I guess like Toph, God is saying to me, “That fight is over. Release the fear.” Wooooooh! Lord have mercy! It sounds a lot like Kirby and Rob Kaple’s song 28’s song refrain. “Don’t be afraid… To dream again…” I think I wore this song out because a day wouldn’t go by without me singing it or listening to it at least three times. It felt like oxygen to me. And man, that refrain would bring me to tears every time.
I am, afraid. I’ve said it here before. I am. But that poison’s coming out of me one way or another. I’m learning to release the fear. I’ve made progress, but I still have a ways on to go.
He is my Father
I do not wonder
If His plans for me are good
If He’ll come through like He should
Cause He is provision
And enough wisdom
To usher in my brightest days
To turn my mourning into praise
There’s a promise at stake. A testimony. A becoming. And I’m on the edge of it all.
I am who He says I am
He is who He says He is
I’m defined by all His promises
Shaped by every word He says.
Just had to say it one more time so it lands in my heart.