Abandoned

What makes me feel safe? 

I was thinking about this last night. 

I realized we often look to those around us for safety. We look to family, and friends; they become our refuge when we feel unsafe. When we need a haven or sanctuary, these are the people we turn to. 

And it was like Holy Spirit interrupted me. 

“What if you don’t have that?” 

I stopped. I rely on that safety. That even if people everywhere else don’t like me or write me off, I enjoy the refuge of family and friends that love me and know me. 

But what if I don’t have that? What if the only refuge I have is the Lord. What if the only approval I have is the Lord’s? 

Isn’t that what it’s supposed to be? 

Can I be ok if the only approval I have is His? 

Why is that the last one on my list? 

Let’s be honest. Approval feels good. We like it. It gives us confidence and boosts our ego. 

But I think trouble is quick to follow when we start looking around to see who agrees with us. 

In contrast, abandonment is hard. David talks about this in Psalm 27. In verse 10 he says, “Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will hold me close.”

He was in the midst of it as he wrote these things. 

Jesus was betrayed by Judas, and abandoned in his most crucial hour by those closest to him. 

I’m realizing abandonment is a reality we must learn to live with. We must learn to walk through it and become whole again on the other side. We don’t limp forward, band-aiding up our bullet holes and hoping for the best. We don’t pretend they don’t exist, or act like they don’t hurt. 

We treat the whole wound. We go to the root. 

I’ve been abandoned by many relationships throughout the course of my life. It has been painful every time. Truthfully, it takes years to process this pain and subsequent healing.

It is not immediate. I’m still processing some of them. Still walking out the healing part. 

A few things need to be said about this kind of healing: 

• Forgiveness is everything. There is no healing without forgiveness.“Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.” Colossians‬ ‭3:13‬ ‭

• Bitterness feels safe and can disguise itself as health- it’s not. Don’t fall for it. “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor [perpetual animosity, resentment, strife, fault-finding] and slander be put away from you, along with every kind of malice [all spitefulness, verbal abuse, malevolence]. Be kind and helpful to one another, tender-hearted [compassionate, understanding], forgiving one another [readily and freely], just as God in Christ also forgave you.” Ephesians‬ ‭4:31-32‬ ‭

• Real love can overlook offenses because real love forgives. Real love is wise, and real love has boundaries. Real love knows what to guard and what can be given away. “Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.”‭‭ 1 Corinthians‬ ‭13:4-7‬ ‭

Jesus knew that Judas would betray him. He knew his disciples would deny him and leave him. He loved them anyway. He walked with them for the time they were assigned to be close. But Jesus knew in spite of betrayal and denial that the will of the Father was best. That made drinking the cup possible.* 

It made it bearable.

We have to learn that the best approval** we can have is the Lord’s. We have to learn that if everyone around us denies, abandons and forgets us, that He is enough. 

Because denial will happen. Betrayal will happen. 

But it doesn’t have to be the defining wound. It doesn’t have to be the line in the sand where we became jaded and bitter. 

It can be another place in the journey to really becoming holy. To really be like Jesus. 

Don’t give up in the bitter valley. Jesus is there, walking beside, bringing us into true wholeness and healing, if we’ll let him. 

* “Abba, Father,” he cried out, “everything is possible for you. Please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”‭‭ Mark‬ ‭14:36‬ ‭

**“Am I now trying to win the favor and approval of men, or of God? Or am I seeking to please someone? If I were still trying to be popular with men, I would not be a bond-servant of Christ.”

‭‭Galatians‬ ‭1:10‬ ‭AMP‬‬

Essa Mayne

Once again, I write for memory’s sake. I hate the idea of forgetting a moment in time so special and significant. 

We’ll rewind a bit, just to help get in the mindset of where we were. 

The majority of my pregnancy with Essa was really easy. Very little nausea, or discomfort the majority of the time. While fatigue was a constant and heartburn came with a vengeance; there was very little to complain about. 

That is until the last 5-6 weeks. Then it all seemed to kick into high gear. I went from being fine to suddenly being uncomfortable no matter what I did. Sitting, standing, lying down, it didn’t seem to matter; everything was miserable. 

Not to mention, with Sam leaving for a 10 week training academy 6 days after Essa’s due date, I was just ready to be DONE. 

So we’ll fast forward to February 6. To me, it was like every other stinking day going by, without a contraction in sight. At that point I had done everything possible to start labor, from jogging to scrubbing floors on my hands and knees to eating any spicy food I could get my hands on. Nothing seemed to do a thing. 

Sam had come home from work and we were sitting in the living room chatting when all of the sudden, I felt my water break. 

This was quite a different experience than with Lennox, as my water didn’t break until I was in the hospital already well into labor. 

I went to the bathroom just to make sure I hadn’t involuntarily peed myself (pregnancy sucks y’all), and was quite positive my water had broken. I came out and told Sam who sat there for a second before he asked “do we need to go to the hospital right now?” I laughed and said “no way, I’m not even having contractions.” 

So we waited. I finished packing my hospital bag and packed things for Lennox who would be going to spend the night at his grandparent’s house. Contractions started but were really nothing, so I didn’t worry too much. 

A couple hours later we headed into the hospital, handed Lennox off to Grandma (Eleanor), and went to get checked in. 

The nurse who checked us in informed us that it was busy night, and she was not kidding. We sat in triage from somewhere around 9:30pm-11:45pm before finally getting taken back to a room. 

I was rather annoyed because we sat in triage for so long, but mostly that labor did not seem to be progressing in any real way. 

Finally we got settled into our room, and we decided to try to sleep, since we didn’t know how quickly things would go. 

Unfortunately, I only closed my eyes for about 30 minutes before real contractions hit around 12:30am.  

I let Sam sleep as long as I could, but around 2am I woke him up. It was getting too intense to try to distract myself. As usual, he came in clutch and talked to me, told me stories and made me laugh as much as possible. 

I was SO tired around 3am, and momentarily considered getting an epidural just so I could sleep. But I quickly dismissed that thought and determined to stick it out. 

Around 3:55am the nurse came in and checked me and said I was about 7-8 centimeters dilated. She commented that I’d probably be having the baby in about an hour or so. That gave me serious hope. Haha. 

However, I kid you not, about 30 seconds after the nurse walked out of the room I sat up and told Sam “oh my gosh, I need to push.” 

He called the nurse ASAP who booked it back into the room and checked and was shocked to say I was at 10 centimeters. Quick side note, I had no idea you could jump from 7-8 to 10 centimeters in literally 30 seconds flat, but that’s a whole other thing.  The nurse then told me I needed to wait to push until the doctor came. This is my one GIANT frustration with hospital birth. I did not like being told to wait to push, and there was little direction on what to do while I was waiting. I lost track of how I was breathing and commented that my hands were going numb to which I was told “you’re not breathing.” Trying to connect that to something logical whilst being 10 centimeters dilated and told not to push is asking a lot. But somewhere in the midst of that rational thought kicked in and I started taking deep breaths again and the numbness disappeared.  After what seemed like an eternity (I’m sure it wasn’t) the doctor showed up and I got to push. 3 pushes and less than 5 minutes later, our perfect Essa was born. 

She was little and petite and exactly right for us. 

I said two things immediately after seeing her face the first time. The first was “she looks like Lennox!” and the second was “Babe, she is totally Essa.” That might sound dumb, but I like to see their faces before I know for sure if the name we picked out is right. As soon as we saw her, we knew her name was exactly right. 

All in all, it was a very simple birth. No complications, tears or anything else. Just funny, because it went so slow until it didn’t. There was nothing until it kicked in, and then it was high gear. I rather imagine that’s like our Essa girl. 

We'll Tell Them

I sat for a quiet moment today, just thinking about things. Babies asleep, sweet and peaceful.
I've wondered what to say, or share these days. Everyone seems quick to speak and share opinions. But as we stare this new disease in the face and the world seemingly closes in on itself...I don't care to be frivolous with words.

To be sure, this is an old enemy we're facing. Sure, the disease is new. But our enemy is not. He never is. So we don't have to be afraid. We know this enemy has been defeated. But it's up to us to obey the word of the Lord. We won't fear.
The Lord is not shocked by Coronavirus, or earthquakes, or fires, or floods, or anything else.
He doesn't fall off of His throne.

So as I sat quietly today, I thought about my kids. And someday, when they're older, we'll tell them about all this. They're innocent and unaware now, but someday we'll tell them about this. We'll tell them about the year the world changed. We'll tell them how it shifted us, and changed us. We'll tell them how our collective priorities changed. We'll tell them how our lives were altered in the course of a moment.
But most of all, we'll tell them about what the Lord did. We'll tell them about who He was in the midst. We'll tell them how He was faithful. We'll tell them how He sustained us. We'll tell them how He was near. We'll tell them how He was good. We'll tell them how He was kind. We'll tell them how He loved us. We'll tell them how He never changed, not even a little. We'll tell them about His peace, that truly passes all understanding.
We'll tell them how we leaned in closer than ever before, and we'll tell them how He led us.

And honestly, I can't wait. I can't wait to tell them about the world they grew up in. I can't wait to show them that our God is the God of then and now. The same, always. Every story in His word isn't just who He was, it's who He is NOW. I can't wait to tell them that He can be trusted, even when we don't understand.

Really, all I'm saying is, we're living in the times we're going to tell our children about.
So let's open our eyes wide, and ask the Lord to show us all the things we need to see.


We will not hide these truths from our children;
we will tell the next generation about the glorious deeds of the Lord,
about his power and his mighty wonders. 
Psalm 78:4