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Showing posts with label Process. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Process. Show all posts

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Increasing the Capacity to Love

Capacity: the maximum amount a container can hold. 

No, I didn't look that up - I remembered it! I taught a first grade unit on capacity. We filled all sorts of containers with beans, marbles, rice, etc. to learn about the topic. Capacity looks a little different however when we are talking about the human heart. 

When I returned to State College from Christmas break, my little sister (of my host family) lovingly and excitedly informed me I was going to be a big sister again! My host mom was pregnant with Baby O #4. I continued to live with them through the months of pregnancy. I saw the days in which Mom felt great and could conquer the world - I saw the days where she was so sick she had to call reinforcements in to help - I saw the days where dropping a green bean on the floor could bring her to tears. 

The ups and downs; the goods and the bads. I saw it all. Month 8 of course, she became increasingly uncomfortable - ready to be relieved. 

Tyler Joshua Benjamin O. joined the world on August 9th at 10:03pm. 

The next day I went to the hospital to meet my new little brother. I had a flood of  
emotions - never have I held a newborn. Let me preface that I have come to love my three other "little siblings" over time. When I arrived one year ago, we took time to get to know each other. I built relationships with each of them. I love them dearly - but it was something that grew with time. 

I walked in to the hospital room a bit nervous. My host mother looked beautiful. Her eyes sparkled and her skin glowed. Her smile radiating pride and confidence. She was stunning - no one would know about the labor pains or how uncomfortable she recently was. What was born out of the pain made the process fade so quickly into the background of the past that it was no longer even a thought to her, let alone anyone else. 

My host mom placed baby Tyler into my arms. My eyes welled with tears. I felt like the Grinch. "In Whoville they say - the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day." I was struck with a capacity to love like I have never experienced. I knew that in the ten seconds I settled him in my arms, I would do absolutely anything for him. I loved him instantly with words I can not explain. 

Tyler has helped increased my capacity to love. 

My engagement ended over a year and a half ago. Yet, in many ways, I still feel like I am bearing it. There are days where everything is perfect - I've found my confidence again and I can conquer the world. Call it weakness or just allowing myself to feel, there are days when I feel sick. I struggle to get out of bed. Those are the days which I question myself. What did I do wrong? How could I have changed things? Did I really deserve it? Why wasn't I enough? I make myself sick trying to come up with answers to the thousand questions that still linger in my mind. And I have other days where the green bean on the floor can make me cry. It could be a song, something someone says, a vehicle, inside joke, dream or just the release of allowing myself to feel the injury. 

In all honesty, today is a green bean day for me. 

Recently on the phone to my mom, I was having a difficult time with the lingering pain of my broken engagement. "I just thought I would be past this all by now, Mama. Why does it still bother me this much? Why does it still hurt so bad? WHEN will this STOP?!"

Leave it to my beautiful and wise mother to soothe my weary heart. "Sweetheart, you're still in the process of carrying this. It will take time. The labor pains come and they hurt - they create the discomfort and the doubt. But when God births the beauty out of all this, you won't recall the painful process. You will simply hold in your arms and praise Him for the precious miracle He gives you." 


This was about one week before Tyler was born. God knows I am a visual and experiential learner. Holding Tyler in my arms was the tangible truth of my Mom's wisdom. I needed to see the beauty and strength of my host mom; the precious and perfect miracle of the baby. In that moment, a hope for my future family was renewed. I realized  that my ability to love another selflessly was not lost in the devastation of my broken heart. Hope renewed. Joy awakened. Strength infused. 

Is there a lingering pain you continue to experience? Wondering if it will ever go away or if you will ever be able to fully heal? Whoever said time heals all wounds was an nincompoop and a liar. Time heals little to nothing. Jesus is the healer. JESUS heals all wounds. "He heals the broken hearted and binds up their wounds." Psalm 147:3. "He collects every tear." Psalm 56:8. 

You may still be carrying it (unfortunately there is no nine month limit). You may be experiencing the labor pains right before the release of something beautiful. Rest in the promise that God works all things together for the good of those who love Him. That He will not give you more than you can bear. That He redeems and restores that which the locust took away. 

Don't grow weary, give up, or become so frustrated that you lose sight of the cross of grace and only see yourself. It's coming. It will be so worth it. 

Experiencing a heart of pain will always increase one's capacity to love if Christ is the one you allow to heal it. 

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Healing is a Process


I remember the feeling. I was incredibly dazed, but I saw the familiar faces; Mom, Dad, Brother, the Boy. Their concerned smiles brought safety and comfort. Then it hit… the excruciating pain. I had just come through a total hip replacement.

I will avoid the gory details, but still I must help you wrap your head around this. The shaft of my femur had been hollowed out to make room for a metal rod that would be jammed down inside of it. Screws and bolts drilled in to the bone in hopes that everything would stay intact. Then add a metal ball and socket that would become the new joint and two blood transfusions.... 

My body rejected the foreign object and screamed its objection through pain. Every time that wonderful blue light lit up, I pushed it knowing a small bit of relief would come in the form of morphine. I smiled back at them all and squeezed the hand that was holding mine and slipped from consciousness once again.

Dread consumed me the day following the massive surgery. I knew what was coming. It always happens. It has to. Two overly - cheerful physical therapists make their way into my room. “It’s time to get up,” they announce. Everything within me screamed in pain, the task far too daunting to even mentally process, let alone physically accomplish.

But, I have no choice. For my sake, I have to get up – I have to walk. Multiple people are on deck to help. Once I have achieved the painstaking task of swinging my legs to the side of the bed, they clamp two belts around my waist and establish a firm grip. Mom takes charge of moving the IV. Dad nearby in the event he has to step in to catch me. Brother and the Boy in the doorway praying and chanting encouragement.

More excruciating than I can begin to convey, they hoist me up. I bite my lip from crying or cursing! Excessively weak, I grow light headed. The room begins to spin. My eyes lock on the chair across the room. The chair that I know provides a safe place to rest. The chair that when I reach it, these two goons holding onto my belt will leave me alone!

I made it. I collapse. I pass out. I don’t know how I made it back to the hospital bed… that was Step One of the healing process. The movement began to awaken blood flow, which awakened muscles, which in turn, made me stronger. We repeated the process the next day… it got easier. The next day, I used a walker to walk to the door of the room! It still hurt, but the strength I was gaining soon began to alleviate the pain. 

Healing is a process. Which means it’s a process; it takes time. A dear friend recently told me, “Heather, you don’t have to be 100% healed in order to live again…” Where are you in this process? Are you acting dead in the bed? 

In June it will be three years since the hip replacement. Guess what? I am still in physical therapy! But, I am getting stronger. Muscles that haven’t been used in nearly a decade are coming back to life! What the doctors said couldn’t happen is happening! Fox 34 News in Lubbock ran a YouTube video about my story called, Young Girl Fights For Strength After Hip Surgery. People take notice when healing begins! They rally, they support, they applaud. 

Are you sick physically? Maybe you’ve taken a hard blow emotionally? It’s likely that you have a deep wound somewhere… I assume this because you are a human being. (Maybe except a few of my family and friends in Roswell! We come in peace!) ; ) 

The pain inflicted upon me one year ago is still raw. Yes, I have been able to get up and walk. Yes, I have regained a bit of strength. The stitches are still there. It hurts when you poke it. Some things cause it to throb and ache.

Often I am too strong for my own good. Rarely do I admit to pain. Right now, I confess to you that it hurts… gosh dang it – it hurts! It still requires a bandage. I cover up the wound when I go out and about. By the end of the day however, it needs to be cleaned. It needs to be re-bandaged.

Thankfully we worship the Great Physician. He is capable of treating our wounds with the most amazing care the world will ever find! And, He does all of this for FREE! We just have to let Him. I hoped for, prayed for and expected instant healing; of my hip and of my heart. That’s not how the Doctor wanted to work.

Have you also prayed for that wounded place in your life to be miraculously healed. Get angry when it didn’t happen how you wanted it to? Mad because you still feel as if you are in intensive care and not getting better? Does God work that way? Yes. Does He always? No.

I have reached the conclusion that sometimes He might actually want us to put forth a little
bit of effort.  We have to be willing to go through the healing process. There is so much to learn during that season! Often, myself included, we throw a pity party simply because it hurts. We refuse to get up. We cry demanding that the Doctor do something about it “this INSTANT!” When He doesn’t, we become angry and bitter.

Lying in that bed longer and longer only makes us weaker… There must come a point when we choose to believe that the Doctor really does know best. His goal is to make His patients better. This week, my heart is aching. I know yours is too. Rather than get frustrated and grow weaker, I encourage you to get up. You can do this. There is a chair nearby in which you can find rest.

I can walk. I can ride a bike. I can pick up my little siblings. I can skydive. I’m not still lying in that hospital bed writhing in pain. There are still days when I feel the pain, but I am not where I was before.

Hand it over. Trust the annoyingly-happy therapists that come into your life and make you move. Something like Heavenly magic happens when we choose to believe that God’s strength is perfected in our weakness. That He might actually choose US to make HIMSELF look good. Wow! What an honor we have! 

Your heart might be in therapy for a long time to come, but, it’s getting there! Nearly three years since the last surgery and I’m still healing. Fourteen months since my broken heart and I’m still healing. It is a process. It comes in stages. It takes time. Don’t quit going to PT. Don’t quit checking in with the Doctor. Don’t give up on your own healing. Claim it. Work towards it. 

By His stripes, He won your healing and your heart. You can do it. Swing those legs over the edge of the bed and stand. His amazing grace hasn’t failed to uphold you once, has it?