Monthly Archives: June 2013

Inspiring thoughts

28 Friday Jun 2013

Posted by in Change, Inspiration

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Our moments of inspiration are not lost though we have no particular poem to show for them; for those experiences have left an indelible impression, and we are ever and anon reminded of them.

 ~ Henry David Thoreau

 

Inspiration has been on my mind lately.  Where would we be without the type of inspiration that takes hold of us so strongly that it shakes our entire perspective and quite possibly changes our lives for the better? This intense kind of life-changing inspiration might ignite a CEO to volunteer in a third world country sparked to utilize his business prowess in order to positively affect the landscape of a desperate nation. Or, perhaps this stronghold inspiration wills a child to see beyond himself–no matter the litany of criticisms directed at him–to knock away all nay-sayers in his path in order to free his heart and chase after his deeply woven dreams. This enigmatic inspiration might wake a mother in the still of the night to contemplate her ways–her daily attitude, the harsh tone of voice, all the times she is missing out on the beauty around her–found in the eyes, hearts, minds, and souls of the children she has been blessed to raise. Maybe now she rises in the morning with a greater sense of purpose, a calmer way about her, soft-spoken and radiating kindness to her family–all due to inspiration willing this mother to change.

Inspiration of this magnitude must come from Heaven above for it is not created by man alone. Divine, incredible, game-changing, life-altering inspiration that is meant for the greater good in a person’s life and the world abound won’t leave one’s mind alone—no—it infiltrates the heart, runs through the veins like new blood, and becomes sustenance until the metamorphosis occurs in full. It takes hold and never loosens its grip. Inspiration like this changes the world.

In my pondering state, I started a cognitive list of the people, places, events, and even the things I’ve seen or heard that have inspired me the most in my life. The greatest movement and change in my heart has happened by the magical swirl of words written by a multitude of authors and the quiet, unassuming, awe-inspiring actions of other human beings. Reading has ignited my passions and many a story has changed my perspective by stretching and stirring me from the inside out, ultimately capturing my heart in profound, lasting ways. Then there are those authentic people I’ve been privileged to meet whom have given me the gift of inspiration simply by living their lives with integral passion, whose purpose is beyond themselves and whose profound actions whisper greatness.

Inspiration is all around us if we just open our eyes to the miracle of possibilities. Myself, I am looking out for daily inspiration in a world that can feel hopeless at times. I’m hoping to find radical ways to be an inspiration to others, as well. I’m curious about who or what has inspired you. Who or what has been your largest source of inspiration? How did a new thought or passion change your life? Where do you find daily inspiration? Have you been an inspiration to others recently? Please share.

Helping the healing process: Miscarriage

13 Thursday Jun 2013

Posted by in Miscarriage, Peace, Tough days

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I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it.  ~e. e. Cummings

A person’s a person, no matter how small. ~Dr. Seuss

A little while, and ye shall not see me: and again, a little while, and ye shall see me, because I go to the Father.  John 16:16

As I sit comfortably in The Husband’s reading chair with my feet propped up on the matching ottoman and covered in my and Baby Girl’s favorite snuggling throw, I look out into the quiet night waiting for a predicted rainstorm of horror and terror to make its appearance. And I’m a little bit afraid to fall asleep. All my life, I have been a deep sleeper. Storms projected to hit in the middle of the night unnerve me. So, I sit unsettled about this storm and as I try to write my anxieties away, I can’t help but think of my dear friends who, as I type these words are dealing with their own horror, waiting for their personal storm to pass.

Last week, these favorite friends of mine shared with us the grief in their hearts that they are losing another child—their fourth—to miscarriage. For them, this makes three miscarriages in a row.  My own experiences with miscarriage aside, I can’t begin to express deeply enough the pain and sadness I feel for them and their family. These friends of mine are beautiful, decent, moral, giving, loving, healthy, young people. Their only living child is much like her parents—a beautiful, sensitive, loving child.  She deserves a sibling to love. Her parents deserve to be freed from their trauma and heartache every time a pregnancy test renders positive. It just does not make sense to me—the suffering and loss one couple must endure.

Years ago, I tried to make sense of my own losses. “Why again? What am I doing wrong? What are the doctors missing? Will I be childless forever?” And the questions continued in my mind and sat still in my heart for many, many years. These unanswered questions and debilitating doubts only deepened the wound of infertility for The Husband and me. They never fully left even with fostering The Girl, after carrying The Boy to term, having The Girls’ adoption finalized, nor later with Baby Girl’s surprisingly easy pregnancy. Only recently was I able to break free of the horrible hold those chains of infertility and miscarriage held over me. But, then I miscarried again—after the three kids came–and some of the old heartache resurfaced. And the doubts? They doubled along with the grief.

Through the painful infertility years, I felt misunderstood and alone. No one I knew at the time had had a miscarriage which made going through each one even worse. I felt like a failure in so many ways and that I was failing my husband in his dream to become a father. Of course, I realize now that these feelings and thoughts were unfounded. It took me awhile to figure out that God’s plan was larger than my own and more fulfilling than I could have ever imagined for myself. But as I was living in the drought of infertility—and I mean a deeply physical, emotional and spiritual dry period—what made it worse was that I felt wrong for grieving so hard. So many, well-meaning, lovely people in my life wanted me to just get over my feelings and leave the questions alone. But how can you ever truly get over the loss of a miraculous life? Four lives, no less. Infertility was a tough road to endure then, and the scars that remain from that time are deeply sewn.

For anyone reading my words tonight, I beg of you to be sensitive and compassionate toward a loved one you know who has miscarried their child. Be extra-supportive in your actions and tender in your words to them. Bring a home-cooked meal or send a gift card. When it’s all said and done, a miscarriage can take weeks to complete. Keep checking in, keeping praying, keep offering help and love. Even if you don’t get it–couldn’t imagine what it might be like to lose a child you never even held or named–please go above and beyond for your friends. And when in doubt, hold your tongue. Take it from me, well-meaning phrases like, “It just wasn’t meant to be.” Or, “Be glad for the child(ren) you already have.” Are not helpful, aren’t really for you to declare, and can add more pain to their suffering.

For anyone reading these words who have had in the past or are now experiencing a miscarriage (also infant or child loss) you have my deepest sympathies. You are not alone. Your grief is justifiable and real. Your loss, unimaginable. You will one day have peace and joy again, but you’ll never be the same.