yesterday, my little boy turned 5 months.
5 months.
i remember a month before he was born, thinking about christmas and how my baby would be six months old, his personality would be coming to the surface, i would be getting comfortable in the motions of becoming a mom of three...
but those 6 months felt like they would be a lifetime away.
my experiences were based on my previous two *first 6 months* in full blown post partum depression. where every moment, every cry, every feeding, every changing seemed to be too much. where i would sit on the floor with a little one on either side of me and weep as i wished to be anywhere but where i was.
i loathed the day i ever dreamed of becoming a mom.
i loathed myself.
i loathed my children.
i loathed the God who gave me my precious gifts.
i remember sitting in my doctor's office with tears streaming down my face, full of shame as i confessed that while i *loved* my children, i didn't really feel anything for them other than they were 2 little bodies who i needed to take care of.
my heart breaks now just writing that down.
as much as i tried to force myself to *feel* something, as much as i desparately longed to love my daughters completely, there was something in the way...something that was bigger than me and my will.
i joke now that all i needed was zoloft and Jesus - but really, it's true.
it's taken me time to be *okay* with needing help...to admit that i have needed the help i've been given. to be okay with being a statistic - especially when the thought that needing something alongside Jesus can be very taboo in some circles of Christian thought...
and so, when i had sweet elias, i was prepared for the endless days and nights. the feelings of drowning, the staring at a wall for an hour as my babies cried around me...
i'll be flipping my calendar in just a few short days. another month will have passed and i'll wonder where it went. it hasn't been all sunshine and roses. i still have my moments of sitting on the floor, wondering what i did with my life, but they are very few and very far between...
this post has taken a very different turn than i meant it too...kind of like my blog, so i hope that you can bear with my thoughts a little bit longer...
3 1/2 years ago i started this blog as a pictorial journey. 3 years ago, this blog turned into something more...something more than just smiling pictures of strained carrots and bright green poop. it turned into a record of my journey with tony, my children and my faith.
at first, i was worried. so worried that if i began writing about Jesus, i would offend someone. or i would be seen as some odd fanatic whose thoughts about Jesus were a little...too much.
but did i worry about writing about the crazy antics of my children? the mundane daily things that seem to fill my life? did i feel ashamed to write about my sweet, amazing husband? did the pictures i post cause me to wonder who would be offended or bored or think i was an over-the-top mom?
of course not.
why?
because my heart is full.
of them.
and a heart that is full can't help but spill over onto whoever happens to walk...or browse...by.
unashamed
so should i be surprised when my heart is desparately full of love for Jesus that it spills into my writing, into my conversations, weaving itself into the simple stories that He then turns into amazing moments that speak directly to my heart, wooing me and drawing me in?
again, of course not.
i heard something profound today. maybe not so profound to some of you, but it hit me like a cleated foot connects with soccer ball.
sometimes we let our fears of not knowing enough, not being smart enough, not being eloquent enough stop us from sharing Jesus with those around us. we (and i have been SO guilty of this) feel that unless we have the magical formation of words down perfectly, there's no point in sharing our faith because we'll probably screw it up anyway.
i smile, because when i present lyla with something new and she doesn't know how to do it, she immediately sits down on the floor and yells that she "gives up" and "it's hopeless". and i have to kneel down, get close to her face and ask her to take a deep breath and assure her that she can do it, because we'll do it together.
and i can't help but wonder if He does the same for us. if He leans down near and whispers to our terrified souls, "lean on Me. rely on Me."
because i know i'm not smart enough. i know i'm not eloquent enough. i don't have the ph.d in theology that would give me the answers to the theological questions that have loomed out there long before i was born.
but i do know what i have.
i have a heart that is falling in love with Jesus. a heart that longs to share what He has and is doing in my life. a heart that longs for others to know the same Love that mine does.
and so i share. timidly at times, more boldly at others. but i can't not share about the One Who is Love Incarnate. Who turned my broken, unfeeling heart into one that can't contain what He has poured in.
so i willingly spill over what's in my heart...
for Him.
