A pumpkin memory

Today we carved a pumpkin "with" Caroline. It's one of the memories we wanted to share with her just in case this is her only chance to experience some things. I decided to make her pumpkin a little special. No boring smiley faced jack-o-lanterns for our girl. Haha.

As I was cleaning out the inside of the pumpkin (which I don't really like to do, by the way), I thought about how I would let her touch the slimy grossness inside the pumpkin just to see what she would do. Haha. I finally got all the gunk out. Whew.

I debated what I wanted to carve for Caroline's pumpkin. It's hard for me these days to make some decisions about what I'd like to do "with" Caroline. I just hate that I might only have one chance, so I try really hard to make it good. I went back and forth a lot about her pumpkin. But I decided on this when it came down to it.

She's my little angel, regardless the outcome of her life. And she's shining a light even now, so I figured this was appropriate. Here's a few pictures of the process.

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Cameron joined the fun too. He took on the role of cameraman most of the time, but he did carve a pumpkin too. This was his. :) He was very proud.

Haha. He was going to carve "Happy Halloween" into his pumpkin. After he got "happy" done, he decided "Halloween" would take too long, so he just wrote "boo" instead.

Happy Boo indeed. Haha.

I really enjoyed sharing this time with Caroline. I know it may seem strange to think of her as being here with us making memories, but that's ok. It means a lot to me. I mean, really, most kids don't really "remember" the early years of their lives anyway. We make memories for them, more for our sake than theirs. So I guess that's kinda how I feel about it with Caroline.

I do still hope and pray that we'll get to make memories with her later, too, but in case that's not God's plan, I'm going to keep doing things "with" her anyway. I'm glad God has given me this time with her, and I'll keep treasuring the "memories" as we go.

Hope

So you know how I said a few posts ago that God gives me lessons in bits and pieces so I can digest them? Yeah...he gave me another one today. Did I also mention his lessons are sometimes hard to swallow? I did? Ok. Par for the course then.

This scripture passage was part of my pastor's sermon today. His message wasn't really about this particularly...he was using it as a lead in to some other things. But this bit stayed with me. I've heard this Scripture about a million times, and I've always liked it. But this time, I got something new out of it because of the perspective I have right now. Without further ado..

"Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." -Romans 5:1-5

I've been really struggling this week with the idea of hope. Really struggling. I don't know if I'm just drained from the emotional difficulties of our situation, or if I'm lacking faith, or if other people's doubts are starting to wear on me. Whatever it is, I've really been inspecting my heart, and what it's hoping for, this week. I've begun to wonder if I really am crazy, if I'm living in denial of reality, if I'm trying to manipulate God to do what I want. Or maybe God has truly given me a peace because he is going to give me what I want. I don't know. This scripture came at a perfect time, as usual. God is cool like that.

I realized today that hope is a wonderful thing, but it has to be in the right place. In this passage, it starts out letting us know where our faith comes from-through grace, through our justification through Christ. Done. No question. Then it goes on to say "we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God." Arrow. through. heart. That shows where our hope should lie...in the glory of God-our secure future through him. All our hope should be wrapped up in wanting to see God glorified in our lives. Not in what he can do for me. Not in what I want him to do for me. But in his glory.

The next verse is one that a lot of people have probably heard. "Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." Ok, so it's obvious we're "suffering" right now through this situation with Caroline. Living through this is definitely teaching me perseverance and character. And yes, hope. But I think over the last week or so my priorities have been slightly skewed. My hope has been slightly misplaced. I've been struggling with how to hope for healing for Caroline and still not be "disappointed" if he chooses not to perform that particular miracle.

I think I figured out my problem, thanks to God's revealing it to me. "And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." My hope shouldn't disappoint me. This verse says so. Wanna know why? Because my hope should be in the glory of God, nothing else. And if my hope is in the right place, then I won't be disappointed. He already loves me, and proves it by giving me the Holy Spirit. So if I focus my hope on God being glorified, not on a miracle, not on an action, not on a desire, and if I rely on the Holy Spirit to show me God's love because of the hope I have for my future with him, I won't be disappointed. And I'll have peace.

God is asking a lot of me to place my hope in his glory, instead of anywhere else. It's hard not to hope in a miracle. I don't think it's wrong of me to continue asking. And I will keep asking. And I will keep praying that God's will would be done, even when that is extremely difficult and I have to confess to God that sometimes I don't entirely mean it. All of the lessons God is teaching me these days pretty much point to one thing; God will be, and must be, glorified. He must be all important. He must be my first priority. He must be loved the most of everyone I love. And for me to be as close to him as I can be as a human being, and for me to truly rely on him as my Lord, and for me to truly understand and feel his grace and peace, I have to voluntarily put him there. He's not going to force me.

I'm not strong enough to do this. At all.

When I really came to these conclusions today, my heart hurt. I knew what God was asking of me, and I didn't want to do it. I still don't want to do it, even after several hours of meditating on this idea. Even though I know God may not give Caroline a healing miracle so we can keep her with us here on earth, that belief that he can, and COULD, do it, is part of what has kept me going. Not because he is all powerful, and I'm giving him the glory for it, but because I want to keep my baby. In some ways, I've been placing my hope in the miracle, not the miracle worker. And I didn't even realize it was happening. I absolutely still believe and have faith that he can, that he has the ability, to heal Caroline. And I still hope that he will. But today has brought a new depth to my understanding of hope. My hope must be firmly rooted in God's glory. Not a specific action, not a specific idea, not in a limited scope of what I think should happen, or could happen. Rather, it has to be in the one who already knows what will happen, who can never disappoint me. The glory he must receive.

Like I said, this is not something I am strong enough to do. It's going to take a lot of supernatural help, and a lot of time on my knees. It's going to take a lot of tearful submission. But I know in the end, this is the best thing I can do. I can't be disappointed in this situation if my focus is on God getting glory, no matter the outcome of our situation. He WILL be glorified, even if we lose Caroline here on earth. He'll be glorified if he heals her. He'll get the glory if there is some other outcome I haven't even imagined yet. His plan will give him glory.

I needed this reminder.

God loves me, and his Holy Spirit is given to me to prove it. He doesn't want me to be disappointed. He wants me to be able to rejoice in the hope of his glory. It is so reassuring that I can indeed have his peace in the midst of the uncertainty we're facing with Caroline.

I won't stop asking and hoping that God would perform a miracle for us; a specific miracle that I particularly want. I can't stop asking for that. But I know now that I don't have to fear disappointment if his answer isn't the one I want, if I ask for his help to maintain the correct focus. I know I'm human. I know this is going to be one of the most challenging things I have ever done. I know I will fail miserably over and over again. But I know God's grace will cover me. I know God's love will sustain me. I know he'll help me, if I just ask him. So that's what I'm going to try to do. I will do my best to honor him this way. And hopefully he can use my imperfect efforts for his glory.

I will rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. With lots and lots of help from him.

People

When we first got Caroline's diagnosis, I didn't think about much. I just existed and tried to force myself to function as well as I could. But I knew in the back of my mind that we'd get an outpouring of sympathy and support. I have great friends and family.

When the initial shock faded a bit, I started thinking about how much people were supporting me. It really quite humbled me, and made me feel incredibly blessed.

Here's why: I have a confession to make. I severely sell myself short when it comes to other people. I love to serve, I love to give of myself, I love to have friends, I love to do what I can for people. But I don't think about how others look at me, or how they respond to me. At least not much. In some ways, I have become "self-sufficient," and that can sometimes lead me to be...doubtful of other people's care for me. To clarify...I'm somewhat insecure about whether people care about me in return. There are some people I KNOW care. They prove it all the time. There are others who I'm not so sure about. It doesn't mean people don't care...it means I have issues trusting that they do.

This experience with Caroline has taught me A LOT about how much people care. It's also taught me not to wait for tragedy to strike to show others I care. I don't want people to wonder about me. I want them to know I care. But I digress.

It has now been three weeks since we got Caroline's diagnosis. It feels much longer to me. Much, much longer. Because it feels like it's been forever to me, every once in a while, I start to think that the outpouring of faith and love toward us is going to start fading. People are going to move on with their lives and "forget" about us and what we're dealing with because they have their own stuff to do. I keep steeling myself for that loss of support. I keep thinking that it's only a matter of time.

And I keep being proved wrong.

I actually have tears pooling in my eyes as I write this. Not only is this whole thing with Caroline strengthening my own faith with God, teaching me to trust him and rely on him whole-heartedly, but it's also teaching me that he uses his people a lot more than I give him credit for.

I have lived through some situations where people have hurt me dearly. They weren't strangers or acquaintances, or even people I didn't care for. They were people relatively close to me who I trusted and thought well of. Everyone has times like that. I have been blessed that I didn't let those times sour me toward God to the point where I lost my faith entirely. I've seen that happen in people going through similar circumstances. But it did throw me into a valley spiritually. It's only been in the past year or so that I've been able to really start to heal from some of those hurts, and they happened several years ago now. So I guess what I mean is that I'm slow to trust people, and I look for people to mess up.

I'm a great example of what NOT to do. Haha.

Through this trial, I realize that people are much more willing to follow God's lead than I give them credit for. They're a lot more willing to put themselves out there than I thought. And they're a lot more consistent than I ever imagined.

It seems like on the days I'm really struggling with this insecurity, God prompts people to show me that they care. I get an influx of email or messages or cards in the mail. God keeps proving me wrong about my thoughts towards other people.

I just want to say that while people are my secondary source of comfort right now, with God being my first, they are also slightly more tangible sources of comfort. God comforts the deepest parts of me, in my spirit and soul, giving me supernatural peace. The wonderful people around me give me hugs to feel, and cards to look at, and flowers to smell. I can't rely on the people around me to comfort what only God can reach, but I also know that he has placed these people in my life. He knows I need the stuff I can feel and see, too. That's why he wants us to live in community with each other...earth is hard, and people showing care and concern can really help us grow toward the Lord.

So after this terribly rambling post, I want to say thank you. Thank you to everyone that hasn't forgotten us in the busy-ness of life. Thank you to those who have given us tangible evidence that you care. Thank you to those who have continued sending kind words to us through email, snail mail, facebook, blog comments, or phone calls. Thank you especially to those of you who keep praying for us. Thank you all for letting God use you to comfort and sustain us in a very trying time. You will never know how much it means to us to be loved, supported, and held up in prayer by people who care.

I have had a lot of comments that God is working in our situation and our lives to glorify himself. He's showing himself in our faith, and in how we're dealing with this. I'm so glad he's getting the glory, and I hope we can continue to shine for him in a dark time. But I want you to know something...

God is working and being glorified through you too.

So thank you. To God be the glory.

In a World of Crazy

Let's just say I feel a little crazy these days. It's kinda like walking through quicksand, while watching a ping pong game, while having an out-of-body experience.

I guess I should explain that, huh?

Thursday will be the three week mark of getting Caroline's diagnosis. Three. Weeks. That's it. It feels like I've lived an entire lifetime in these three weeks. Walking through quicksand. I take one step at a time, because it's all I can do. And it seems like it's taking forever. Time has become this weird, surreal entity. I still live within the limits of time, but time doesn't seem the same anymore. I feel like time is suspended at the same time it keeps trudging forward. It's just...odd. I can't really explain it.

Then there's the constant back and forth. Ping pong game. Joy, pain, faith, doubt, grace, fear. In a single day I probably have more emotions than I would typically have in a month. It's exhausting. I've mentioned before the constant tension I feel between Caroline's two possibilities, as I call them. Healing miracle or nature's course. To go along with that are emotions. If I focus too much on the miracle, I begin to wonder if I'm setting myself up for disappointment if that's not what God has planned for us. Then I feel bad because I wonder if I'm lacking faith. And around and around it goes. Then, if I focus too much on the medical "certainty," I'm wondering if I have enough faith, then I feel like I'm justified because I have to guard my heart against the possible disappointment. You see what I mean? Ping. Pong. Back and forth, round and round, constant tension. I can't give up either option for now, because we don't know what God is going to do. But it's a constant battle.

As I'm going through this, I know God is carrying me. There is no way I could be doing this on my own. His love sustains me, and his grace covers me. I seriously sometimes feel like I'm watching myself experience this, not going through it myself. Out-of-body experience. I still FEEL everything, but as I "watch" myself handle this situation, I wonder who this person is. This person suffering with patience and grace, hoping in a miracle most people would say is impossible...it can't be me. It's not like me. Oh wait...it's not me. It's God with me, carrying me through. If nothing else comes from this experience, I KNOW that my faith has been strengthened. God has "proven" himself to be faithful to me beyond a shadow of a doubt, and my faith and trust in him has so much more substance. It's been tested and tried, and refined in the fire. That doesn't mean I'm perfect, or handling things perfectly. Far from it. But in the moments I choose to rely on my Father, things go well.

There are other things going on too. I want to be able to trust the medical professionals around me. And as far as I know, all the ones I've dealt with thus far have been trustworthy. But...I know the Great Physician. And what He says goes, even if it's contrary to common medical proof. But here's the thing...I sometimes wonder how much the medical profession really knows about this disorder. Cameron has been an information hound through this whole process. I've already shared that anencephaly occurs in about 1 in 1000 pregnancies. I recently found out, through Cameron's research, that 90-98% of those pregnancies are terminated. So that means roughly 1 in 10,000 pregnancies involving anencephaly are continued. 1 in TEN THOUSAND. Of the continued pregnancies, about half are lost through miscarriage or pre-term labor. That means only about 1 in 20,000 are carried near or to full term. That's...really not very many. And from the personal anecdotes we've found online, it seems the severity of each case differs, sometimes dramatically. I'm not saying any medical professional is intentionally muddying the waters. But if any disorder is as rare as anencephaly, how much can you really know? It just makes me wonder, that's all. It makes me wonder how long my baby Caroline could survive even if she isn't healed miraculously. We've been told hours or a few days, but we really don't know. At all. It's what makes my hope and faith all the more important to me.

Then there's the physical paranoia. This is probably the most obnoxious thing to me right now. I'm a first time mom as it is, so I don't know what's "normal" for me during pregnancy. Add in that I am now considered high risk, with a chance of pre-term labor, and everything I'm unsure about is magnified. Every twitch, pain, pull, ache, or twinge is analyzed and fretted over, wondering if everything is ok. I hate that I do this, but I can't help it. When I start to freak myself out, I just have to remember that God knows the timing for little Caroline, and he'll be there for me no matter what. It's not easy, but when I pray that God would help me, he does. It doesn't mean I completely stop worrying all the time, but the worry doesn't consume or overwhelm me like it otherwise would.

The last thing I want to discuss is how other people are thinking about our situation. I have a lot of friends and family that are incredibly supportive. They encourage me, lift me up in prayer, and remind me that miracles can happen. And they truly believe it. It's not a nice platitude to try to make me feel better. They really, truly believe it. They also realize, like we do, that it might not happen, but it doesn't change their faith that it COULD.

Then there are others, who although good intentioned, I sometimes feel like are "humoring me." They kinda seem like they think I'm a little crazy for ACTUALLY believing Caroline could be miraculously healed. It doesn't really bother me when people come across this way. It hurts a little, mostly because I want them to experience the depth of love and and grace I feel from my Heavenly Father, the KNOWING that God is powerful and ruler over everything. These people are still supportive and kind, I just wonder if they think I'm a bit off in the head sometimes.

Cameron has had some strangers straight up tell him that he's brainwashed, crazy, and delusional for believing we could get the miracle we're praying for. They don't believe as we do, and I understand why they feel that way, even though I don't agree with them. To people who don't believe in our God like we do, for people who believe that the medical inevitability is, in fact, inevitable, we are crazy. I'm ok with that. 1 Corinthians 1 basically says that will happen. Verses 18-31 talk about this, but I think verse 25 sums it up pretty well: "For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength." In the end, it doesn't matter what other people think about us. It matters what God thinks of us. I hope he can look down on us and say we're doing a good job, honoring him with our words and actions, showing true faith in a difficult earthly situation.

Because here's the thing...this isn't the end. Life on earth is like a vapor, as Scripture says. We're here a short time, then comes eternity. As long as we can grasp that, as hard as it is, then things like this get a little easier. Knowing God's in charge, knowing he has our best interest at heart, knowing when we get to Heaven this will seem inconsequential compared to the glory we share with Christ...it makes all of this fall into God's perspective.

So if you think I'm crazy for handling this the way I am, for hoping like I do, for defending my faith as I am, then ok. I may feel a little crazy right now, but I know I'm not. I want to be wise in God's eyes. The eyes on earth are limited and the wisdom of human beings is foolishness. When I start to lean on my own understanding, or on the world's expectations in this situation, hope is lost and faith is weakened. When I rely on the truth of God, and seek to be wise as he is wise, hope flourishes and faith grows. I want the second version.

I'm ok feeling a little crazy. It makes it easier to rely on God, easier to hope in the future. And easier to see God's glory.

Honesty

In all of this journey, I am trying my best to be open and honest. It is only through that honesty that my story can be told correctly, and hopefully God will get the glory.

So...in an effort to be honest, I should say some things.

I have gotten a lot of comments, messages, etc in response to our situation. It's pretty amazing to me how people can care so much for us. A common thread through most of the comments is that people think I am strong, brave, and have amazing faith.

Ha. Haha. Hahahahaha. Oh my. How I wish I was all those things.

I'm not trying to offend anyone that has said something like that to me. Really. But I have to be honest...I do not feel like any of those words describe me. I feel so weak, so afraid, and so lacking in my faith. I must honestly confess that without Jesus, I am pretty much a worthless pile of crazy worried nutcase. A nutcase that wonders how I'm getting through this. And there is one answer.

Grace. Lots and lots of grace. From Jesus.

I must give credit to Him for getting me through this. It is only through his grace that I can endure the never-ending uncertainty and fear. It is only through his mercy that I can live with other people unknowingly saying really stupid things to me that have the tendency to either make me really angry or really defeated. It is only through his love that I can look to the future with hope instead of despair.

It truly is all because of Him. The longer we deal with this situation, the harder it gets to rest in God's grace and peace. It's hard to know that you can't do a dang thing to save your daughter. It's hard to know that you have to rely 100% on God to get through the day. It's hard to feel so utterly helpless.

In all of this, God is carrying me. Literally carrying me. I am not walking this path on my own...God has scooped me up and is lovingly carrying me where I have to go, regardless what the end result will end up being.

So in response to people who think I'm "handling" this well...thank you. You flatter me. But I must set you straight. Haha. God is handling this, not me. I'm just doing my best to let him. I'm doing my best to trust that he's got this. It's hard. I fail, a lot. I doubt, I question, I wonder, I get angry, I get flustered, I get sad. But his grace covers me. Oh, praise Jesus that his grace covers me, and that he is loving, kind, and merciful to me. Thank the Lord that he carries me when I am too weak to walk on my own.

Whatever good is in me, it is Jesus working through me. I hope when you see "my" strength, poise, faith, and courage, that you would instead see that my Jesus is carrying me and giving me the ability to function as he handles things for me. Thank you all for your kind words, prayers, and encouragement. It helps so much, really and truly. I'm truly not trying to belittle or trivialize the kind words people are giving me, but I must point to the source of my strength. So thank you, and to God be the glory.

Memories

As Cameron and I walk through this challenging time, we are trying to live with a good perspective. It's not always easy, but we think it's worth it.

I also have an amazing mother who is one of the most wonderful supporters I have ever had. She has been invaluable to me during this whole process. I'm not sure how I would have gotten through the past couple weeks without her love and listening ear. She was able to fly in from halfway across the country to be with me this week, and it was such a great time.

Before she came, she shared with me that in some of her reading about families dealing with anencephaly, she came across the idea of making memories with the baby before they were born, since most can't survive long enough to make many memories after their born. As an aside, my mom is an amazing mom. She has always been a great mom, and a fun mom. She has one grandchild so far besides Caroline, my sister's little girl, and she is an awesome grandmother too. Her grandma name is "Honey." Honey is one of my niece's favorite people. She's fun and loving and makes time spent with her great.

My mom loves doting on her kids and grandkid. So she wanted to spread the love to little Caroline, doing all the things she would want to do with her if we get our miracle and she is able to do things with us later in life. If this is our only chance, then we're just going to share all the fun stuff with her now, even if she can't really do any of it. We're going to make the memories with her now anyway, even if it's just so that when she's gone we can say we did things with her. It will be a comfort to us if we don't get our earthly miracle.

My mom came with a list. Haha. She was a woman on a mission, and it was so much fun. We didn't get to everything on the list, but hopefully next time I see her we can do some more stuff with Caroline and finish her list out. I'm sure she'll come up with other things too. Haha.

We went outside and blew bubbles (it was so windy, and so cold, but so worth it).

That's something she and I would both definitely do with Caroline if we get to keep her here on earth.

We drew with sidewalk chalk on our driveway. Caroline couldn't make her own pictures yet, but we made some for her, of stuff we think she'd want to draw if she gets to stay here for a while. We also wrote messages to people she loves, and from people who love her.

We wanted to play with sparklers (you know those sticks of sparking light you get at the 4th of July and New years?), but it's not really the time of year for them. They were really hard to find, and we weren't able to get any, so we improvised and got glow-in-the-dark wands instead.

We laughed so hard. Cameron was being totally goofy, as I'm sure he would be with Caroline, making her laugh and want to "play" too. We wrote her name in the air in light and prayed for our miracle, so we could do this with her some day.

A big thing in my family is banana pudding. It's one of my dad's favorite desserts, so we've all made it with my mom at some point in time. I'm sure if Caroline gets to stay with us, "Honey" will help her make it someday so "Pi" (my dad's grandpa name, pronounced pie...don't ask) can have some, made with love from his little Caroline. Mom decided we could put her initials on top with the vanilla wafers to commemorate her "first" banana pudding adventure.

I hope she enjoyed her first taste of pudding, even if it did come through me first. Haha.

Some of the other things Honey wanted to do with Caroline was to share some of the things no little girl should live without. So we got chocolate ice cream and popsicles so she could know what a treat they are, and get to enjoy them (at least through me). If she gets to stay here with us, I'm sure she'll have fun experiencing those for the first time, whenever that time comes.

We got pumpkins to carve, but weren't able to get them carved before Honey left to go home, so Cameron and I will just have to show her how that's done later. Carving pumpkins is too neat not to share with her.

One of the last things we did while my mom was here was go shopping. Obviously, Honey would take Caroline shopping if she gets to stay with us, so we had to show her what it's like in case she can't stay. Cameron went with us and was such a good sport. Haha. I'm sure he would be with Caroline too.

We bought Caroline her first Christmas ornaments, in case this is the only one she gets to spend with us. There is a Christmas store at our mall, so we were able to find some cute ones. We also got her a really pretty dress to wear. If she's only with us a short time, or gets to stay for a while, it will be her first photo shoot dress. Either way, I'm sure she'll be beautiful in it, and it's one thing we'll get to do after she's born. We looked around for quite a while to find just the right outfit, and I think we found the perfect one.

Doing all of this was such a blessing. I know it meant a lot to my mom to be able to spend time with her grandbaby, and I know she wishes she could do more with us. It was a wonderful time for me, too, to have my mom here with me, doing "normal" things we would do with Caroline. It still hurts everyday to think I won't get to do any of that with her after she's born, unless God gives us our earthly miracle, but doing it with her right now makes it just a little easier. My mom was such a comfort to me while she was here, just as she has been and will be at a distance.

I will admit that doing all of this was painful at times. I cried a few times while we were shopping. I really want her to be able to do all of this when she's old enough to remember, when we can have pictures of all her firsts, make memories with her, not for her. It hurts, a lot, to think we might not get that opportunity.

But just as in everything, God is good. He gave us joy with the pain, peace with the uncertainty, comfort with the tears. I will continue praying for grace, peace, and comfort as we go through this, all the while asking for our miracle.

Thank you Jesus for giving me such a great Mama, and for giving Caroline such a great Honey. And thank you, Mom, for being here for me, even as you suffer with me. I love you.

I want to be worthy

This week has been such a blessing. My mom was able to come in from out of town for several days and make some memories with Caroline and me. I'll share more about all that in another post. But it's also been a time of reflection and growth for me as well. Being able to talk to my mom in person about what's on my mind has been awesome. So I'd like to share a few of my thoughts from this week.

"Anyone who loves their father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves their son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it." - Matthew 10:37-39

As we go through this whole crazy situation, God is revealing things to me in bits and pieces, as I can manage to digest them. Even in his teaching moments he is gracious towards me. This passage of Scripture is one that God used this week to teach me another lesson. A tough lesson, but one I needed to learn. Reading it, you can probably tell pretty much what I got out of it. This Scripture doesn't leave a whole lot of room for discussion, at least to me it doesn't.

I love my daughter. A lot. Even though I haven't seen her in person or "met" her, I love her. Any child that is growing in a loving mother is going to be loved from the time it's known he or she exists. That's definitely true. In our situation, the chance/probability that we will lose Caroline has, amazingly, made me love her even more. I guess that old cliche, "You don't know what you've got till it's gone," could be considered true in our case. The thought of losing Caroline makes me want to hold on to her even more tightly while I still have her. Whereas before we got her diagnosis I was careful but not really anxious about pregnancy issues, now I am not only careful, but tend to fight anxiety. Any twinge I feel makes me worry that something is going wrong, even if it's completely normal. I'm sure that's a natural reaction to have in a situation like ours, but it's quite exhausting. I have to give those worries to the Lord constantly so I don't drive myself crazy. But it just illustrates how fragile all life is on this earth, and that I am clinging very tightly to the little life growing inside me.

I guess God wanted to make sure Caroline was not becoming an idol, or a distraction, or a stumbling block in my life. Even as I am trying my best to rely on God for grace, comfort, and strength, I still have my moments of disbelief, and of lacking faith. I still struggle with the thought that Jesus knows what's best for me and Caroline, and trusting that no matter what happens, he's in control. It's hard for me to understand why taking my little girl to Heaven before I get to know her is possibly the best thing for me. I don't understand God's thought process a lot of the time. So as I struggle to accept our situation with grace, this is a hard battle being fought in my mind. Does God really know what's best? Could taking Caroline really be what's best? Is he really expecting me to handle this all with grace, giving him the glory through it all? I always, ALWAYS know the truth, but that doesn't make it easy to accept.

So what did God do? He sent me this Scripture to let me know what's up. He wanted me to know, in no uncertain terms, the truth. It hurts to consider it, but it's also a comfort in some ways. This Scripture says I MUST love God more than anyone else in my life. If I cling to my daughter too tightly, I am not worthy of my Jesus. If I don't look at this situation as "my cross," and as my share in Christ's suffering, I am not worthy of my savior.

I can't love Caroline more than I love Jesus. Period. I can't love my mom more than I love Jesus. I can't love Cameron more than I love Jesus. I can't love anyone more than I love Jesus. And that will mean that sometimes, I might have to hurt. Jesus hurt. His cross was painful. Dying a sinner's death was painful. Watching the people he loved, who he was dying for, spit on him, mock him, beat him, and deny him, was painful. He was abandoned by his friends, ridiculed by his enemies, and forsaken by his Father. He faced way more than he's asking me to face. But he was also victorious over death, and saved all of us who choose his salvation. If I'm not willing to follow him, bearing my own cross or pain, then I'm not worthy to be called his. I will honestly admit that I don't like that sometimes. That's a hard pill to swallow. But it's the truth. And the truth is, Jesus is the only one I can't lose. He'll never leave me, never forsake me, never fail me. Any other human being, I can lose (at least for my remaining time on earth). They can hurt me, fail me, disappoint me. They're not Jesus. No one else can save me for eternity. No one else has chosen to die for me so that I could live, eternally.

And in the end, I want to be found worthy of my Jesus.

So if I have to love Jesus more than I love Caroline, then I will. If I have to hurt, I will. If I have to lose my daughter, then I will. If I have to lose my life to gain it, then I will. I want to be found worthy. Nothing else on this earth could truly satisfy me, comfort me, make me happy, or gain me eternity like Jesus can. Nothing. As hard as that is to live out, it's true. As hard as this concept is for me, it's true. As hard as it is to take up a cross, voluntarily, and follow Jesus, it's what's best for me. Always.

I can tell you that right now, I am not altogether feeling very worthy. I am not feeling altogether willing when it comes to taking up my cross. I'm not feeling very able to love Jesus enough to say he can have my daughter if that's what his will is. But I'm trying. And as I try, I'm begging Jesus to help me. Without his help, I know my efforts to be worthy of him are futile. I am too jacked up. I am too weak. I am too bound to this earth and my limited understanding. No sane human being can WANT pain and suffering. No human being can WANT to lose a child. It's not normal. But I CAN want to be worthy of Christ, no matter the cost. I just CAN'T do it on my own.

So just as I've been clinging to Jesus for comfort and grace, and for the strength to make it through all this, I am also now clinging to him for courage. It's going to take courage for me to live out this idea. It's going to take a lot of supernatural help for me to be anywhere near successful. I'm going to want to recoil and rebel against all this; I already DO recoil and rebel at the thought of it. But I want to be worthy. I WANT to be worthy. If he ends up giving us our healing miracle, then I will be ecstatic and rejoice and praise him forever. But if that is not what he chooses, then I want to be worthy anyway.

"Anyone who loves their father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves their son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. Whoever does not take up their cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it." - Matthew 10:37-39

Lord, I beg you; make me worthy of you.