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Saturday, February 13, 2010

I can't put a name on it

All of the emotions about pumping/not nursing came to a head a couple of weeks ago. I moved from the less-than-comforting comfort of my bed to my closet (where I have strategically placed a chair for quiet and privacy) for a good cry out. I talked to God. I told Him that I completely believe that He only does good, but that does not mean I don't sometimes wish for and want things to be different. I want, desperately, to see what good will come from this struggle, to understand why. I begged and asked and - to be honest - blubbered on and on, incessantly and painfully cycling between my beliefs in God's goodness and my desires. (I'm pretty sure I remember hearing that we should make God's desires our desires, but obviously I'm not there yet.) Finally, as I stripped away more and more of the reasoning I had been doing in an effort toward self preservation, I reached a truth that would have, earlier in my walk, scared me, made me unsure of my relationship with God, my trust in Him and my faith in His goodness: I was angry with Him. I let it out. I said it out loud. I owned it. I embraced it. Why should I be afraid to tell God I'm angry with Him when it's the truth? I should tell him because it's the truth. He knows my heart. He knows I believe in Him, His eternal love, grace and mercy. He knows I believe He allows every hardship for the purpose of good. He knows I'm sad and scared of losing something wonderful on this earth (a breastfeeding relationship with my child). He knows I'm stretched with my motherly duties, which now include pumping, and not enough milk to boot. I let it all out; every word that crossed my heart poured out my lips.

Until I ran out of words. Suddenly I was silent. There were no more words, no more tears. There was silence. There was calm, around me and inside me. I felt different, strangely so. I crawled back to bed and tried to digest this nothingness. It wasn't emptiness, no, but a comforting absence, as if I'd unwittingly been filled with turmoil and was now without. I thought about this almost sense of satisfaction (as after exercise or the completion of a large task) for many days. I tried to understand what had happened in my heart. I marveled at it. I thanked God for it, though I didn't know what it was. I knew it happened because I'd been totally honest, put everything on God ("Let go and let God"), and reached a new understanding within myself (with the realization and admission of anger). I've never been so complete in prayer. I figured this is just how you feel when you completely unload your problems on God.

Today I put a name on my "condition." I felt peace. Jim Bob Duggar told me what it was, or at least he wrote it in their book. He said he prays about situations over and over, and often, when God is ready for him to make the next move, he feels a peace after his prayer. (I love it when God slips resources in right under our noses.)

Thank You, God, for sending me peace by your grace. Thank You for telling me, over and over again, in a hundred different ways, to be completely vulnerable with You and You will bring me peace. Thank You for sending me such examples as the Duggars to help me draw closer to you, to challenge everything I've grown to accept about the world. Thank You for drawing (and often forcing) me out of my comfort zone again and again to change my perspective. Please help me to hear Your voice and have the courage to follow it, because You will lead me only where I need to go.

1 comment:

  1. Oh Katie I had your same struggle (well not quite as dramatic with my child). The want to breastfeed so badly that I thought nothing else mattered. Finally I gave everything over to God and though I was not able to ever breastfeed Samantha I did have peace with it all. Keeping pushing forward Momma!! I am praying for you!!!

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