My Reason



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Martha or Mary?

Several weeks ago, I had the chance to sit and talk with a friend that I don't get the chance to talk to very often.  We both have toddlers about the same age and live two timezones apart, so coordinating talk times is not very easy.  The times that we do get to talk, we generally just have time to get caught up on life in general and the other bare essentials, but this particular night we got to talk for a few hours and it changed my life and my heart in ways I never expected it would. Around this same time, I had a status message up on facebook regarding not knowing what to do with my life.  She shared with me that she had been praying for me and felt impressed to share something with me.  She went on to tell me that I was already doing what I was meant to do with my life: loving and caring about others.  Deep down I was really a Mary and not the Martha I was trying so desperately to be.  (Luke 10)  I'll be honest, at first I was almost offended by s...
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Mental Illness is Just That...Illness

I don't think I'll ever understand the stigma that still surrounds mental illness. I am an insulin dependent diabetic.  If someone finds out my blood sugar is too high or that I left my insulin at home, they are immediately panicked and I am flooded with questions about what we need to do or how they can help.  Same is true of anyone who receives a cancer diagnosis, a blood pressure or heart related diagnosis or any other number of things that could be mentioned here. Why is mental illness so vastly different?  Why is someone labeled as "crazy" or "disturbed" because of an imbalance of chemicals in their brain?  Why is having depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, coping with self harm or suicidal thoughts so taboo?  Because people think that only "certain types" of people deal with those type of disorders?  Maybe putting it in a little perspective would help. When I went into first grade, I started having panic and anxiety att...
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24 weeks and a lot of thoughts...

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Well, here I am...24 weeks pregnant and looking happy.  Between rounds of crying...I AM happy.  I enjoy feeling Baby K's movements and taps.  I love feeling those things, but sometimes the reminder of the sweet baby growing inside me is more bitter than sweet.  I was talking with my mother the other night and I said, "With no fluid, I'm not supposed to feel the baby much if at all.  I've felt this baby move every day for over a week now.  That has to mean something good right???   I mean, if it doesn't mean something good, then it's all just a cruel joke and extremely unfair." Of course, as I've said before, I'm not giving up so long as there is a heartbeat to be seen and movement to be felt from this child.  I know that even if there is a 1:1,000,000 chance that there is still THAT chance that s/he could be fine.  However, the longer that I carry this sweet miracle, the more the reality settles in that I'll likely not ever see this child...
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