The Greatest Arrival

We’ve been reading through the Jesus Storybook Bible with our kids (which I would suggest even for people with no children!). We are still in the Old Testament and each story has some mention of our need for a savior, our inability to rescue ourselves, or the prince to come. I love it. It gives me such a deep appreciation for the intense waiting period that creation endured. Reading bible stories in that context gives me a feeling of connection to that waiting period. Of course, I’m not super super old (note that I’m not even about to put a number on that…this isn’t that kind of blog people, take your debates elsewhere) and I wasn’t there literally waiting for Jesus. But I am a part of the carefully crafted creation that has a deeply sincere need and longing for redemption. My debt of sin piling up and swallowing me whole, just like everyone before and after me. Even before I was aware of it, I carried my yearning for reconciliation and peace with God like an anchor tied to my soul. And because of mercy and grace, my souls breathes and my heart beats new life.

 The birth of Jesus is about the arrival of the Good King. The true, noble, faithful, ruler who walked among us has come! It’s when all of creation sighed in relief and then filled its lungs to sing the highest praises. For generations, the faithful waited. The birth of Jesus is where anticipation meets fulfillment.

So let’s rejoice.

He came, He came! He came just like He promised. Our waiting is over. All this struggle and all this yearning, now breathes relief. We have a Savior! We know His name. And we are His people! He adopts us into his family as children. We are welcomed into the blessed family of Christ to join His kingdom forever. We have a beautiful inheritance. And this day that we celebrate each year; it marks the beginning; the beginning of hope, the beginning of GRACE.

Struggle or surrender

So, if you have been following my blog over the past couple of years, you know that I have been very honest about the good, the bad, and the funny parts of my life. I have been mushy and lovey about my awesome husband. I have used my misfortunes and misadventures to get a laugh. I've told you about my tat (yea I'm hardcore haha). I've been transparent about the pain of my miscarriage and my battle against self loathing and body image after having my son.  Well I had an amazing sweet silly baby girl 3 months ago (after much impatience for labor to start) and I have been determined to stay out of the chains I once found myself in. I prayed hard before her birth that I would not be defined by the size, shape, or weight I was left in. I sought out accountability to keep my actions in check. I have even decided that every time I go to try on clothes at stores I will first look myself in the mirror and audibly say "This doesn't define you. The way these clothes fit or look is not your identity." I have been more honest with my husband and confessed to him when I find myself feeding lies during the day. I have taped scriptures all over the edges of our bathroom mirror to replace lies with Truth. And with all this...it is still hard. Thank the Lord that I do feel like I am on the winning side of the battle this time, but the other day in worship at our church I found myself thinking "I thought it would be easier to fight against this stuff." But that's the thing, fighting sin is fighting sin. Engaging in war is far far better than just surrendering myself to being a prisoner, but that doesn't mean it is easy.

Once when we were newly married, Austin was trying to explain men and their constant battle against lust so that I could understand a little better. He told me that every man struggles with lust. And if a man isn't struggling against it, then he is surrendering to it. But struggling doesn't mean losing. Struggling can mean winning....but that victory doesn't come easy and it doesn't ever bring that struggle to an end. As long as we are on earth, men will have to make the choice to surrender to Christ or surrender to lust.

I think for most women, at least for me... as long as I'm here on earth I will have to choose to surrender to Christ or surrender to every lie about my body in connection to my worth and my value. I'm winning, but it is a constant wrestling match. I know that there will be seasons of life when the fight isn't so bad and won't really need much attention from me, but right now that fight has to be intentional. That is just where I am. It feels good to fight. It feels good to take the side of Truth. It feels good to not be a victim to the Enemy's lies and my own self hatred. It feels heavy and wonderful to know that the way I fight now, will be the heritage of either love or hate I can leave my daughter. I can show Lily how wonderful it is to be thankful for the personality, heart, dreams, talents, and health that God blessed her with.

**In the midst of all this fighting I have been endlessly searching for podcasts and books and any resources I can find from Christian women I respect about this very thing. What I am finding is that there is so much out there for our daughters and teenagers, which is awesome! But just because you get married and become a mom doesn't mean you don't need a little help out too. No one really talks about that, I think because 1.As moms/wives we honestly do have much more demanding our energy and don't have to face bullying from our peers about our bodies anymore, but 2. We aren't helping each other out! The response I got after sharing my story after the birth of our son was mostly from wives or moms! Hello! That tells me a lot. It tells me that we aren't doing a big part of our job as the body of Christ. Sometimes you wake up and need encouragement and sometimes you wake up and feel equipped to encourage, so stop being so quiet! 

It is He who made us

This is the post I didn't really want to write. I have been avoiding writing this by telling myself I couldn't share something so personal until I had some sort of resolution. I compromised with myself. But please, bare with me, it's scary to be vulnerable.

"You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of the dust. You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of us." This amazing lyric is from the song Beautiful Things by Gungor. Ironically, ever since Austin introduced this song to me I have been obsessed with it. Like the one-song-repeat-for-an-hour kind of obsessed. I persistently requested that Austin do this song with our dear sisterfriend Camie. All this time I have been singing this song to my Creator, and unwittingly I was lying. I didn't really believe He made beautiful things out of us... well not all of us. Not me. (my heart hurts just putting that to words)

Since being pregnant, I have been so dissatisfied with my physical appearance. No, that isn't sufficient. I have lamented over my physical appearance. I have avoided mirrors. I have believed evil lies about myself. Shamefully, I even dreaded future pregnancies because of what it would do to my body. (I feel completely mortified putting words to that) I lived in bondage, whilst giving my Redeemer a slap in the face. Nothing looked good enough or felt good enough or was good enough. I had just welcomed our amazing and healthy son into the world and moved across the country being lead to an awesome church and community. I was learning so much about Him, but there was a growing spiritual cancer inside. I had come to a point where nothing in my closet was doing the job, and finally a point where nothing in any store could work either. At first I was buying new clothes and returning them the next day out of dissatisfaction. Around Christmas my sweet husband let me go out and buy a few things for myself, but I couldn't. Nothing fit right, nothing was cute enough, nothing was worth waiting in line for or paying for. We were in Dallas mind you, a place where I have had no issues blowing money in the past. This wasn't the first time that clothes or the lack thereof had broken me. This time, I was so anxious to get back to my parents' house and see Lyric. I was convinced that if I could just see him, I would remember why my body had changed so drastically and how worth it that small sacrifice was. But it didn't work. I sat looking down at him sleeping, and cried, whispering to Lyric (mainly to myself) "why aren't you enough? having you should be enough"

God had not been silent. My Savior had not abandoned me ever. He had been whispering and sometimes pleading with me to understand. He showed me that there are so many women that would give up their physique if they could just have a healthy baby in their arms. He opened my eyes to the other side of the coin, that if Lyric had been unhealthy that I too would have gladly traded my looks for him. He told me about my creation, "Katy, I did not create you as an infant and stop being your Creator. I created who you were yesterday, I created who you will be in 50 years, and I created you as you are now." And yet...and yet my sin was my comfort. My hatred of my changed body was fastening chains that bound me tighter and tighter. When I realized that this was sin that I was facing and not--what exactly was it that I thought I was dealing with? It had been so long since sin had seemed so big to me.

There was a series of events which served as a catalyst in breaking chains. In a long dark drive to a relatives' home, I finally started to understand how much it hurt my man that I completely despised my physical self while he "was obsessed with [me] post pregnancy." Being married, I almost always forget that "being one" isn't just a figure of speech. When I hate me, I hurt him. While we were in Dallas we had the opportunity to share dinner with our beloved friends the Patronellas, and after sharing my shameful feelings of inadequacy with sisterfriend, Andea, I knew that I had to move from this place. I wrote a timeline of sorts in my journal. How did I feel about myself pre-preg, during preg, and post preg. If I highlighted the number of times the word "proud" was written, you would need sunglasses to read the thing. Of course. Of course my pride had found another way in. Why did I think that this idol would just disappear from my life? While we were in Texas, we had the joy of attending my sister in-law, Tara's church, Stonegate Church. Our friend Rodney Hobbs is the pastor there and we were a little sad that he was out of town, but their associate pastor Dan was speaking in his place. Dan taught on biblical repentance, a topic that would hit me right straight between the eyes. Dan shared that sin was not just doing wrong things, it was anything that put tension between us and God and needed to be repented of. BOOM. And there it was. Finally, finally I could see the steps that were before me. It was repentance. It was not a total postpartum make over. It was not finding the most flattering clothes. It was repentance.

It seemed like God had softened my heart and taught me, like I had gotten that big fat nugget of wisdom I needed, but He was not finished. I just started the Siesta Scripture Memory Team through Living Proof Ministries. The idea is too choose two scriptures a month and memorize them, for a year (along with countless other believers). I need to arm myself with scripture to fight these lies. My Precious Lord gave me this to start "Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture." Psalm 100:3. Such a simple truth, but one that shapes my identity. I just started looking for my next scripture to memorize when I read this with fresh eyes "but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious" 1 Peter 3:4. "in God's sight is very precious." Why wasn't that my approach? Why have I been living this way? While journaling away about these precious jewels, I found myself writing "It's exhausting trying to be beautiful for everyone." BOOM.(again) I was living for the world. I wanted them all to think I was beautiful, for all of them to give me a pat on the back for being beautiful. Not conforming to this world holds a stronger meaning when it means not caring what the biggest trend is or how thin I am.

This post has taken me a full week to write (not including all the "mental writing" aka lying awake at night with this looming over me). All week I have struggled back and forth. On one hand I felt like this battle was too current and fresh for me to post for the whole world to have access to. On the other hand, I needed (still need) to know that other women share this battle, so maybe if I share this then some woman out there can turn from her chains, or at least realize she is living in them. But, I can't ignore the call that compelled me to share this part of my heart.