Loving Neighbor...Loving Self?

Heavy eyelids read across the lines carefully, as if never before. I turned my head left onto the cool pillow, begging for a pause in his own reading.

"Do you have to love yourself to love your neighbor?"

We've been pouring over textbooks in preparation for summer seminary classes. Late night readings after long days. Jesus intended this night to press into our hearts. 

"Yes, K. I know it seems contrary, but why else would Jesus have said it? In loving ourselves we are receiving the gospel and knowing the grace we have been shown. It's the only way we can turn and extend it to others."

Big sigh.

"Do you love yourself, Kayla?" 

Facing the white ceiling, I knew the answer. I wanted to say anything but no, mostly not to admit my own lack of understanding the fullness of the gospel. I mean, I am a minister after all. I tell students, friends, and family alike that they are worthy of love and acceptance because Jesus gives them worth. Turning back toward him, I met gentle eyes waiting patiently for an answer. 

"No, most of the time I don't love myself. I'm not sure I know how to." It felt freeing. Everyone knows I struggle with self-confidence. Well, anyone I have let close enough. How can I love my Sammy or Sheila, our neighbors, without getting past self-dissapointment? I will only be looking out for myself, and ironically, only truly caring for myself. I have many idols: comfort, control, approval. It seems holy to not like myself, even. I am reminded of Brennan Manning's thoughts on this subject when he says, "True humility is not self-loathing, but self-forgetfulness." How can I forget myself when I am so consumed by the fear that everyone else will? 

I now face the door across the room. Just behind it lays a little boy who is teaching me how much I love myself, not as God does but as my sinful heart demands. Jesus, teach me how to love myself as you see me. Teach me to love my neighbor as I love myself, your beloved. 

______________________

As a follow up to yesterday's post, I wanted to mention how overwhelmed with support and care I received from many of your comments. I had the chance to talk to my dear friend last night, a true reminder that we are not too far away and are certainly not alone. Also, I believe (it's so hard to tell) I spotted a white speck on Malacai's lower gum ridge. 

Today has been super fun. We woke up late and went straight to work around the house and outside. We are reseeding our backyard! Here's to many future days and nights looking out at a grassy yard.

Some Saturday Fun Photos:

You're so LUCKY!!

I loathe these words. I cannot imagine any words that distance a relationship faster as a mom. I've said it, too. It seems encouraging.

Yes, my son does sleep through the night. Yes, he does weigh as much as a small hippo. Yet, my mind is still full of self-blame, confusion, and longing. I am still tired. I am still lonely. I tell myself every day that this is a phase, to enjoy these moments with him, and things will get easier. I know what is true, but what I need is for people to pull me closer. It seems we push out those we least understand. I do it, too. If I think someone has it together, I certainly don't lean in and learn their secrets...I send them out the door praying they didn't stay long enough to find out I'm nothing like them.

I cannot tell you how often I hear, "You are so lucky! Be thankful!" Translation in my head: "I don't (won't) hear any of your complaints because your life is so seemingly easy." For a long time, I LOVED hear these words. They fed me, and told me I was a great mom. Right? Isn't our children's behavior the DIRECT influence of our amazing abilities as parents? Then everything came crashing down.

To tell you the truth, these past three weeks have been some of my hardest. I have dealt with death, loss, leaving, and yet this seems to get under my skin. Malacai is going through, what I assume, is the 4 month regression, or the 4 month "wakeful". It all started one night about 3 weeks ago. He began waking up in the night to eat, which turned into waking up to play and laugh and cry...and anything to get me in the room. It then spilled over into the days. Naps became shorter. He became harder and harder to get soothed and asleep for naps. Anytime I would lay him down...boom...awake. After a week of waking up constantly at night, we decided to let him cry.[ I actually thought we would have a kid who didn't need to sleep to fall asleep.] Making this decision was extremely difficult. I still hear Cai screaming in my ears long after he is asleep. It haunts me. I'm not sure hearing my son cry will ever get easy. It's necessary for him. Though, it does get much easier with each day. After one night of crying to sleep, Cai slept through the night again. He wakes up every once and a while, but now is able to soothe himself again.

Now there are the naps. Three weeks. It may not seem very long, but, well, it is. Progressively all of our tactics have melted away. Music. In bed early. Rocking. Swing. Paci. Darkness. Eating is all we have left.

EATING IS ALL WE HAVE LEFT.

The guilt creeps up my neck. I want to delete it. Sure, there is nothing wrong with feeding your child to sleep, giving them a bottle to get them drowsy. But it feels like desperation to me, at the end of a long list of options that won't help my son. I hear the critics in my head. I hear the others who say, "oh, that's just fine! It's wonderful to have him on you. These days will be gone before you know it!" Ok, yes. That is true. But I am so tired of sitting in a dark room, alone, praying I don't cough and wake him up.

I'd love a cup of coffee.
Or a shower.

So...what do I do? Austin and I were sitting in the nursery, in the dark of course, holding Cai and whispering.

"We need to see this season as wonderful, too" Austin says, "But I have no idea how."

Abundant life has to include perspective changes and rejoicing in hard seasons, I thought.

So, we call on Jesus again and ask for help. We need different eyes and ears, the same difference we are praying for Cai to discover when He knows Jesus. And somehow this hope, the hope of Jesus, let's me lift my head.

Sure enough, I'm not just lucky, I'm really, really blessed. For one, my son looks elated after eating and falling asleep (see photo above). And more importantly, Jesus is for real.

Keen Hearing, Heightened Senses

Rustle. Stirring. Snort. Wriggle. Babbling. Grunt. 1...2...3....4...5...Ok, he's still breathing. I can now hear everything. I thought I had ears like a dog before Malacai entered our story, but I would now describe my hearing as keen to say the least. All my senses are on overload, and my emotions...well, let's leave that out of this blog for another day. I cannot believe little Cai will be a month old tomorrow. God has been so good to us. God gave me a word the other day: Grounded. I'm nervous to even write it in public because of the potential of growth that could be coming my way.

The hardest day of being a new mom happened 2 weeks ago. An abscess was growing large on my tailbone, and Malacai had finally fallen asleep in his swing. I was in tears, knees on our hand-made wooden bench with my arms propping up my exhausted body over the table. The words of God could not seep into my eyes, mind, heart, fast enough. "they have forsaken me, the fountain of Living Water..." I have been doing once again the very thing Jeremiah warned us against. I had built my cistern, full of cracks and holes, to catch lifeless water from (the appearance of) being "supermom". I want control, and what I mean is...I want to control my life. I want to run the show, and I want people to know that I know what I'm doing (ok moms, laugh with me now). I think the whole point so far of being a mother is learning just that: you are not in control, your life is not your own. I have to confess, at 2 weeks old I was concerned about getting my son on a schedule so other moms wouldn't be disappointed in me. We finally got to the root of our "should we give him a pacifier?" issue when we realized we both wanted to prove we could be good parents without it. Ugly sin showing it's face.

In tears bent over the Word of God once again, I wondered how I would look to the Living Water instead of my own ways. I wondered how I could learn to be a Godly parent when it seems so inexplicable. God then spoke through Jesus to my heart when he said, "To find your life, you must lose it. To lose your life you will find it." Oh, this is where life is found. In my loss of self, I find my greatest joy and abundant life - in Jesus alone. Becoming a mommy sure does that for you.

My daily desperation finds its peace when I am in tears, huddled over my son speaking words of life like "His power is made perfect in our weakness...therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses..." and "Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, my steadfast love will never leave you, nor my covenant of peace forsake you" DEEP BREATH. Words of life over me and my son as we play alone all day, usually left only with my thoughts and a sweet face staring back at me.

I am so thankful our story has a good Author, and I can trust Him with each day. My joy is found Him. My abscess eventually got taken care of (praise Jesus!), we are getting much more sleep these days, my mom came in town and blessed us deeply with encouragement and companionship, and most days I begin and end with laughter. God has written such a good story.

Eventually, Malacai woke up from his sleep and pulled me away from hovering over the Word. I picked him up and walked over to the window where I saw our neighbors tree. I asked God for a word for me. I initially thought "rooted" would be a good word, but that is not the one God had in mind. I'm not ready to be rooted. I need solid ground, good soil. Grounded. I can only imagine what Yahweh has in store this year.

themelioō "to lay the foundation, to found. To make stable, establish.