An Irrational Fear of Mine

This is the last day I have of the 7 in 7 challenge and I'm running low on things to write about. But last night I was thinking about what people don't really know about me and I finally thought of something: my irrational fear of haircuts. 

Okay here it goes, it's been almost FOUR years since my last haircut. That's longer than I have known my husband for. I know that's weird, and my hair is unhealthy. But it's very unlikely you'll find me at the hair salon anytime soon. I've used several excuses as to why I won't cut my hair, with the most dominant one being that it's very expensive to get a good haircut. I realized that was just an excuse when my sweet sister offered me a good haircut. 

 

Every time I've gotten my haircut since I was young I walked out with hair at chin length and tears in my eyes. The first one I can remember being when I was around nine. I asked the hair dresser to make me look like Cinderella (I was nine give me a break) but she must have thought I said Snow white because she cut all of my hair off. 

This became a pattern in my life with the most recent occurrence also being my last haircut. I never intended to have my hair that short but after it was done I was glad for about a day because it angered the boyfriend I had at the time whom I happened to be mad at. Someone should have told 15 year old me that I was insane. I guess I REALLY hated the haircut because when I went looking for pictures my hair was either in a tiny ponytail or I had extensions in. I did find a couple pictures though, here's one. 

 

Ever since then I have not trusted hair dressers. My husband suggested some time ago that I get a mommy haircut before the birth of Ezra and I just about lost it. After he mentioned it I began having nightmares about it and I woke up almost in tears. As I showed my husband pictures of my short hair he said "to be honest I like your hair much better short." Short hair? Again?! Does he know how many years I waited for my hair to grow back?

I don't know why the thought of having short hair freaks me out so much. I wonder if I just don't like change when it comes to my appearance. I guess I like being used to what I see in the mirror. Hopefully my child won't get his first haircut before mama gets one. Maybe one day I'll get the courage to get a haircut, for the sake of my husband. What's the longest you've ever gone without a haircut?

 

 

One of the Criminals

I'm pretty sure this is cheating as far as the 7 for 7 challenge is involved, but I'm reposting a blog post I had on my old blog because it's the same thing I was wanting to write today. Also I'm really tired and was going to write nothing so I figured this was better.

This was originally written December 16, 2011,
before Ryan and I were even married.

One of the Criminals

You, you who I pray I am completely found in,
you have paid the price to set me free
For all eternity you had been in paradise, in perfect communion
you did not know the pain of sin, the hurt of being alone
but two thousand years ago you stepped into my pain
you left everything I long for in exchange for everything I long to leave
You wrapped yourself in my foolish flesh, and felt the pain of man
but you showed us how we are to live, and to love, and you did no wrong
Still you received the ultimate punishment as you made a way for me
you were beaten and bruised and your father left you
so He could be with me and your poured out blood could cover me
Oh how I long to hang next to you on that cross,
with my last breath proclaiming my faith for you, sweet Jesus
For my soul longs to hear you say:
“Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

Labor

Today I am tired, exhausted, drained
And longing to feel unconstrained
There's a consuming hunger inside me
And I'm begging God for the discomfort to flee

He responds by sending gentle motion
And filling me with overwhelming emotion
The work is hard but the reward is so sweet
He reminds me with a vision of two little feet

For this is just the start of what I'm called to be
Yet the provision promised ahead is hard to see
But He sees me labor and be heavy laden
And He grants me sweet rest, rest found only in Him

  Check out other entries for day five of 7 in 7

The Person That Judges Me Most

Though I've had to deal with several physical struggles due to my pregnancy, they have been but miniscule compared to the emotion struggles I have encountered while carrying our child. This blog post is belated, mostly because it's a hard truth for me to face and share and I haven't found the words to properly describe what I've felt. I've shared my struggle about feeling judged because of my age and being pregnant before, but what I didn't mention is that the person who judges me most is myself. 

Before I got pregnant I knew that I would have emotional problems with the weight gain that came with pregnancy. I've always had a really unhealthy fear of gaining weight. I had prayed up to my pregnancy that this was not something that I would struggle with in my pregnancy. At first, I didn't struggle. It wasn't until about 6 months that I started really looking like I was pregnant anyways and the excitement of being pregnant was enough to make me forget about the weight that I had been gaining. But the third trimester was different. 

The third trimester is when everything really started changing for me. For the first time I couldn't fit into normal jeans and I had to purchase my first pair of maternity pants. When I went to the dressing room and tried on pants a size bigger than I usually wear, expecting them to be too big, and realized they were instead way too small, I freaked out. Knowing that I had to buy something, I sent my husband to find a bigger size. He came back with the next size up they had, a size four times what I'm used to wearing. He convinced me to go ahead and try them on after I had thrown a mini fit. What happened next will probably upset me until the day I no longer struggle with this; they fit. I could have cried. I pretended it didn't really upset me that much and bought them anyways, but inside I felt like I had failed. My whole life I have set a standard for myself, and that day I failed.

I get a lot of compliments on the way that I look while pregnant, but they seem to go in one ear and out the other. If they only saw what I saw when I looked in the mirror. I do not see myself, I do not see my body.  I see someone I don't want to look like. And surely, if I don't like the way that I look, then my husband must not like the way that I look, right? These thoughts plagued me all day long as I sat at home being very careful about what I ate. The thoughts I presumed my husband had about me greatly influenced the way I acted towards him. I was very cautious around him, and one of the greatest biblical aspects of marriage was missing from our marriage; I no longer felt naked and unashamed. 

This weight is temporary, I know. And I'm aware everything I have said seems far too over dramatic. But I challenge you to look past that and to try to really understand my struggles. I am not alone when it comes to my body image. I am amongst many women who are a healthy weight but have an unhealthy body image.  When I have tried to verbalize my feelings before they have been quickly overlooked, but the effects these thoughts have are not minimal. I write this not looking for sympathy, but to create an awareness and seek prayer. I have asked God to free me of this lie I'm believing, will you do the same?

Check out other entries for day four of 7 in 7

A Few Words on My Heavy Heart

Today marks 40 years since the Roe v Wade decision. Today marks the loss of 55 million babies. Although there is much I could say on this topic, my heart is saddened, and my words will be few. A mother's womb should be the safest place we as humans experience, today it is a place where your fate is uncertain. Lord, I pray for big things to be done. I pray you restore the safety of a mother's womb. I pray you change hearts. I pray you heal those broken by the aftermath of abortion.

Judged and Inconvenienced

Although becoming parents at any age is a challenge, I think it is fair to say that it is even more difficult at a young age. I would first off like to make it known that Ryan and I becoming parents was no accident. This baby has been prayed for since before it's existence. God placed a desire in our lives to become parents, and called us to put our faith in Him and to trust that He would keep his promise of provision. Though it was a tough desire to neglect, it was also a very tough truth to have faith in. But as I thought through the reasons why I feared having a child so young I realized my biggest fear was completely unbiblical. I feared the judgement of others. It is the hardest struggle I have had to deal with in regards to my pregnancy. I become angered by the judgmental stares I receive at the supermarket, or the comments I overhear about how wrong it is to have a child at this age. For the first time in my life I am constantly judged as a result of my faith, and I have failed miserably at reacting the way I am called to.

Another idol in our lives which we have had to part with as a result of our pregnancy is that of comfort. Every dollar we make must be stretched even further, and we have had to set our pride aside and learn to accept help from our community. Our church community has come alongside us faithfully and provided for our needs, both tangibly and spiritually, but that is another blog post of it's own. Our child has yet to arrive and I have already realized that for us to be able to raise this child we will have to sacrifice convenience. Of course I understand that choosing to cloth diaper is the difficult option, but it is one way in which we can save money and put less of a financial burden on our family. Everyday I wish I had the convenience of preparing for a child the way most older, financially stable moms get to, but I do not have that convenience and so I will make the most of what I have. I will use my resourcefulness to care for my family, because I believe that that is what God gifted me with in order to provide for our family. I will cloth diaper, breastfeed, make my own baby food, do my own car maintenance and whatever else I can do to save money, no matter how incredibly inconvenient it may be. God did not promise me being a mother would be convenient, He promised me my needs would be met.

When my husband comes home from a full day of work and school I wish things could be easier for him. When he falls asleep due to exhaustion before 9 I wish that he did not have to carry the burden of providing for a family, but that is not what God had planned for us. And so I will bite my tongue at judgmental comments, and I will learn to love being a frugal stay at home mom. We will cling to the truth that being parents is a blessing, and we will endure the struggles. And with every little kick, and every time our sweet baby wiggles around in my belly we will be reminded of how incredibly blessed we are to be awaiting the arrival of a baby.

Slowly Being Stripped of the Will of Self

There’s nothing anyone can say to truly prepare you for the pursuit of a biblical marriage. There is no number of marriage seminars, sermons, or counseling sessions that can truly get you to understand what it will be like to no longer live your life solely regarding your own well being. Though we were warned of the struggles we would face, nothing is quite like going through them together for the first time. I can easily say the same about the positive moments in marriage, and how much sweeter they are than they are explained. The struggles, though it may not seem so while enduring them, are truly what increased the joy of the good which results from marriage. It is through these moments that you are slowly stipped of your sence of being an individual, and it is in these moments that you learn the importance of becoming one with your spouse.

For me, however, it is in the struggles that I tend to run to my habits of watching out for my best interest. My selfish desires turn a minimal struggle into something much bigger, and much deeper. As I mentally plan how it is that I am going to fix our problems I disregard the greatest tool that God has given me that I might endure, my husband. Instead of leaning on my husband and trusting God’s provision through him, I become angry and begin to blame him for our problems. I manipulated the situation so that it become all about me, when indeed our struggles were intended to be experienced as a couple. And in doing so, I not only fail to fix our problems, but I create new ones, by putting the blame on my husband. But thank God for Grace. Thank God that I have a husband that understand I am a sinful creature, and a Savior who has already paid for my wicked ways.

See, it is in these moments of Grace through your spouse that the Gospel comes alive. It is in knowing that you are loved and forgiven regardless of how bad you screw up that marriage is the sweetest. I pray for more struggles in my marriage that result in a closer unity between my husband and I. I pray that in this I am sanctified, and no longer feel the urge to run away from my husband when times are hard, but rather that I run fast to him. Though marriage is a constant fight against the will of self, I will gladly fight knowing that God promises so much more out of marriage than I have yet to realize.