Author: Megan

Faith

Peace

Megan

I wasn’t able to be with my kids to celebrate Advent tonight because…sometimes life isn’t peaceful. Peace is one of the things that fits under the umbrella of “already, but not yet.”

We read in Isaiah 9:6 and 7 that Jesus would be called the Prince of Peace and that there would be no end of peace. And in Luke 2:14, as the heavenly host proclaimed the birth of Jesus to the shepherds, they said, “Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased.”

Jesus clearly came to bring peace—not just in a quiet and calm sort of way. The peace Jesus came to bring, the peace Jesus is the “Prince of” is the Hebrew word “shalom”. Shalom encompasses so much more than quiet and calm. It involves more than just the absence of fighting and wars. Shalom is completion, health, prosperity, wholeness in relationships (both with God and man) and safety.

As Prince of Peace, Jesus has reconciled us to God, He teaches us to love and to make peace with our fellow human beings, He delivered us from the bondage of the sin that warred within us, He provides for our physical needs and heals our bodies.

And yet, our world is still broken. Wars are still fought. Relationships still break down. Our bodies still become sick. We still experience trouble and sufferings.

Let me be clear, the seeming absence of peace or shalom by no means we are out of favor with God, that we lack faith, or that He has abandoned us. No! Jesus told us that we would experience tribulation or trouble (John 16:33), and in Romans 8, Paul writes that creation, and we ourselves, are groaning and longing for freedom and the realization of our hope in Christ.

We live in the day of “already, but not yet”. We experience some shalom, but not its entirety, not all the time. We have a taste or a glimpse of what is to come, but we live in the hope of the its complete fulfillment.

It is this hope that gives us strength in the times that are not peaceful. In Romans 8:18, Paul writes, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” Sometimes we do experience suffering, hardship, troubles, and tribulation. And yet, glory is waiting up ahead.

When I read Romans 8:18, I think of a hike up a steep mountain. It is difficult. Your legs and lungs burn. But finally, you reach the top, and the view is breathtakingly glorious.

Later in Romans 8, Paul uses the analogy of the pains of childbirth—and I’ve experienced that a few times. Yet, as my youngest daughter was placed on my chest, I experienced an overwhelming sense of joy. The pain of childbirth (unmedicated that one time 💪🏻), was worth the joy of my new baby’s presence.

Whatever we face today, whatever ways we and our world lack shalom in this life, we can walk in the confident expectation of the glorious fulfillment when our Prince of Peace returns and all is made right.

Faith

Hope

Megan

As we observed Advent this evening, I was led to Genesis 3:15: the protoevangelium. This is the first Scriptural reference to the promise of the Messiah. From the Fall, God had planned to send Jesus to be our Savior. The protoevangelium is the first of mannnnnny prophecies pointing to Jesus, and these prophecies gave people hope for the day the Messiah would come.

As I told my children about these promises and the hope they gave, I was reminded that this hope is not merely wishful thinking or a lovely dream. The hope that God gave people for the Messiah’s coming could more fully be expressed as expectancy or anticipation. God’s Word is true. His promises are sure.

While Jesus walked the earth, He promised to return, and in the final chapter of Revelation, the last of the words in red say, “Yes, I am coming quickly.” (Revelation 22:20)

In the same way men and women waited hopefully for His coming, we now watch and wait and hope for His return. Though our perception of the word “quickly” may differ from Jesus’, we can be sure, we can trust that as He fulfilled promises and came 2,000 years ago, He is indeed coming again.

Faith

Already, but not yet…

Megan

Since getting married, we’ve lived in homes from the 40s, 80s, and a flipped home that was built in the 70s, but was practically new. I decided my idea home age was one what was older than my grandparents (charming and full of both history and character) or younger than I am (somewhere between vintage and new). We found a house that fit in the latter category, and when we bought it just over a year ago, I knew there were several things I wanted to change.

The first major things that absolutely had to change were the light fixtures. Not only did the previous owners have some really strange lightbulbs (think color changing in the kitchen and spinning projection type bulbs in front of the garage), our first few nights here had me feeling like I was going blind because the bulbs were so dim! I believe most of the fixtures were original to the house, but some of them were just way too small for the rooms they were in. Changing our main floor fixtures has made a huge impact.

Next on my list of changes to make were our kitchen countertops and backsplash. They were also original to the house. Our backsplash consisted of large, diagonal beige tiles, and our countertops were a very textured brown laminate with a wood front. It may have been the kitchen of my mom’s dreams 20 years ago, and she thought I was crazy for wanting to change it because it was still beautiful to her. The texture in the countertop made it less than idea for baking, and it had to be scrubbed, rather than just wiped clean. Between the color and the texture, I never felt like it was fully clean, even after being scrubbed down. The backsplash and countertops needed updating.

Unfortunately…my list got reordered when the deck balusters started falling out, and we realized the railing was rotten. As our friend was starting to replace the railing, he noticed that the other boards were also rotting and…the whole deck needed replacing. So we replaced the deck. And it’s beautiful, but it’s not kitchen countertops.

Finally, the day came when my husband took me to look at countertops! We found a few options and narrowed it down to the one. Then came the scouring of hardware stores to find a tile in a complimentary color. With new countertops, we decided to also take out the Y2K kitchen desk and replace it with a custom cabinet. Thankfully the company that built our cabinets is still in business, and we were able to have them come out to match the stain.

Our backsplash was stubborn, and it didn’t want to be pulled off of the walls. It had to be cut out and the walls re-sheet-rocked. That happened last week.

Three days ago our faucet got disconnected, and our countertops went in the next day!!!

Today the backsplash installation began! As I rock my youngest daughter to sleep, I’m excited and thankful, yet weary. It’s been three days without a kitchen sink, and it’s challenging. The backsplash is looking beautiful, but the grout isn’t in yet, so I’m not yet able to fully see my vision brought to life.

Our countertops and backsplash are in already, but they’re not yet completed. I feel guilty for my weariness and impatience when I already have my beautiful updates in process.

As I sit in this tension, I’m reminded of the tension that exists in our salvation. We are already cleansed and justified, but we are not yet made perfect and complete. Our salvation has been purchased already, but we are on earth and are not yet enjoying the glory of eternity with Christ.

Someday (hopefully tomorrow!!) my kitchen faucet will be installed and my backsplash will be grouted. And someday, I will be both with and like Jesus. While I am thankful for what Jesus has already accomplished, I anxiously await the completion when every tear will be wiped away, sin will be no more, and I will glory in the presence of my Savior for eternity.

It’s easy to become wearied by the wait. It’s easy to be weighed down by the things we see and face here on earth. But we can be encouraged because someday is coming.

Faith

Here I Go Again

Megan

Last week I found myself in a regrettably familiar place, in a struggle between hope and a self-protecting negativity. We listed our house for sale three weeks ago. If you’ve ever sold a house, you know it’s not the most fun process. Between having to keep the house in showing-ready condition with four young kids, having to leave the house without a plan of where to go, and the uncertainty of how long it will take to sell, I’ve definitely experienced moments of exhaustion and frustration.

We had been told there was a lady who loved our house and was going to bring her husband back through the next weekend when he was back in town. Monday came, and they had not returned. I told my husband I didn’t think they were coming, and he accused me of being uncharacteristically negative. I explained that I didn’t want to hope for something I didn’t think would happen because I didn’t want to get disappointed. And…then I realized, I was back to using negativity to protect myself from being disappointed, which only served to make me disappointed in myself for reverting back to something I thought I had outgrown.

Before meeting my husband (9 years ago yesterday!), I had multiple people attempt to set me up with eligible young men. Each time, I ended up disappointed. I decided it would be easier, safer to assume I would end up single because hoping I would get married and hoping relationships or potential relationships would result in marriage left me disappointed.

After getting married, my husband and I had months of praying and waiting for our first child and over a year of waiting and praying for our third. I found myself worn out by the cycle of hope and disappointment each month. I stopped wanting to hope. I started assuming I would only see one line on the tests.

I wrestled with my lack of hope because I knew hope was important. Faith, hope, and love are three things that remain (1 Cor 13:13). Faith is the substance of things hoped for (Hebrews 11:1). Clearly hope isn’t something I can just wall my heart off from.

And yet, when faced with uncertainty in our house sale, I found myself choosing not to hope that the expected couple would be back through or buy our house. I believed doing so would save future me from being disappointed. I felt like a failure. How had I gotten through extended singleness and a total of over a year and a half of infertility without learning not to fight hope?

Finally I remembered the lesson I had learned: where I put my hope matters.

Putting my hope in a potential relationship resulted in disappointment. Putting my hope in positive pregnancy tests resulted in disappointment. Putting my hope in someone coming to buy my house would result in disappointment.

Instead of putting my hope in people, solutions, or outcomes, my hope must be placed in the One who never fails, is never late, is always faithful, and knows everything.

Putting my hope in God turns my eyes away from things and away from what and when I think would be best. In placing my hope in God, I wait expectantly for what God will accomplish and when He will accomplish it. While people and situations can let me down, I trust God’s heart. I know He has the best plans and that He is growing through the wait. I know His timing is perfect, even if it doesn’t often line up with my ideal timing. I know He sees the big picture.

What are you hoping for? What have you placed your hope in? How would things change in your heart and mind if you put your hope in God and expectantly waited for Him to do what only He can do?

Life, Momming

It Could Have Been Me.

Megan

By now you’ve probably heard of Lindsay Clancy, the 32 year old Massachusetts mom who took the lives of her three children and attempted to take her own life due to postpartum mental illness. The story strikes a chord with this mom of three because it could have been me.

When my daughter, my second child, was a few weeks old, I began having intrusive thoughts—thoughts of how fragile she was, how easily something could happen, the fact that I was physically capable of causing her harm. These thoughts absolutely horrified me.

I begin to ”reassure” myself that I would NEVER harm my babies, and that I would rather kill myself than my babies. As the thoughts of harming my children intensified, I became so afraid that I would give in, so I thought more frequently about harming myself before I could harm my babies. I felt like I was living a nightmare.

As terrifying as the thoughts were, I was afraid to say anything to anyone. I was afraid I would be institutionalized and my babies taken from our home. I began to research postpartum mental illness. Was I psychotic? After reading the description, I didn’t think so. I read about Postpartum OCD, and realized my symptoms aligned. I was relieved to see that women with Postpartum OCD rarely acted on the intrusive thoughts and were more horrified to be having the thoughts in the first place.

I reached out to my midwife, and I started medication and therapy. The journey to healing was long. It was not an overnight thing. I had to learn to fight, to fill my mind with the truth of God’s Word, to recognize that the thoughts were unwelcome and held no power. Even after the intrusive thoughts ceased, the trauma caused my those nightmarish days, weeks, and months remained. Three years later, I’ve noticed myself no longer dealing with the trauma induced anxiety. It’s been a long journey.

New Mama, if you are feeling off, anxious, down, hopeless, or are having intrusive thoughts, please do not suffer alone. Do not stay silent. Please reach out for help. I know even getting help feels scary and means being vulnerable, but you can do it. You are braver than you know. This nightmare doesn’t last forever. There is hope for your future. I’m here if you need to talk or if you need encouragement to take the next step towards healing.

New Dad, I know her hormones have her all over the place, but try to keep an eye on her. Check in with her. See how she’s doing, how she’s really doing. Don’t settle for surface level answers. Let her know that you are available and are a safe place for her. Be her advocate.

I share my story, not because I am brave or courageous, but because in doing so I get to redeem those dark days. My hope and prayer is that women who suddenly find themselves facing postpartum mental illness will see that they are not alone, be encouraged to take the seemingly scary steps towards healing, and see that there is hope for their future. I can’t change my story, but in sharing in it, I may be able to change someone else’s.

Now it’s your turn. What story do YOU have to tell? What have you survived, overcome, or experienced? Who needs to hear that there is hope on the other side of your experiences? Who needs to know they’re not alone and that you have also gone through what they’re going through? Who needs to be encouraged to take the next right step—just like you did?

Our stories are powerful. Our stories can change the stories of those around us—if we tell them. We need your story! Will you tell it?