You Shall Have No Other Gods Before Me

I had no idea sleep could be a god.

There's nothing like losing a thing to make you realize how much importance you had placed on it. *side note - I threw away my scale yesterday. Already I feel the loss. I think another post about my misuse of that tool will be coming soon* But back to sleep. Or rather, a lack there of.  I have a new baby. He eats frequently. Since I am breastfeeding him I chose to wake up every time he eats.

Wow, just writing this post is revealing that my view of sleep is not yet fully refined. I started typing, "I have to wake up every time he eats." But I realized I don't HAVE to do anything. I really am choosing to wake up every two to three hours. I could switch him to formula.  But I don't want to. What I really want is to be able to breastfeed my son but still get 8-9 hours of uninterrupted sleep each night.

Not happening.

The first couple of weeks of frequent waking left me tired. The subsequent ones left me cranky, impatient, selfish, joyless and ungrateful. Not pretty.

God used a woman I've never met to show me the filth in my heart. Early on in this sleep-deprived season she mentioned that Jesus is the One Who interrupts her plans for rest.  If God is sovereign (which He is) then He is the one that coordinates it so that my three year old wakes up five minutes after my two month old falls asleep. God is allowing my sleepless state.

A little over a year ago I formed a definition of idolatry that I saw working out in some one's life: An idol is anything you use as an excuse to disobey God.

It wasn't until I read Lindsay's testimony that mentioned sleep being an idol that the dots connected for me.

I'm tired, it takes me a little while.

Using Lindsay's springboard of possibility and my definition, I decided to test myself. Is sleep an idol in my life? Remember the state of my heart: cranky, impatient, selfish, joyless and ungrateful. I forgot to mention anger and self-pity. Those were pretty prevalent, also. Here's how my heart fared compared to Scripture -

Cranky: Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. (Ephesians 4:32)

Impatient: Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. (Colossians 3:12)

Selfish: Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves (Philippians 2:3)

Joyless: Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.(Romans 12:12)

Ungrateful: give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

Anger: Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. (Ephesians 4:31)

Self-pity: For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the faith God has distributed to each of you. (Romans 12:3)

Hmmm. . . Not doing so well at following those commands. And they are commands. At least in English. I haven't taken the time to research the Greek to see if each verb is in the imperative form. (I've got kids.)

And none of those commands list exceptions. They don't say obey God unless you're tired. Neither do they say obey God unless someone has been mean to you. Or if you're stressed, or you were victimized, or anything else. God's expectations for His children are for each season of life and each interaction. There aren't ever times given when it is okay to have an icky heart.

I know this post is getting really long, but I do want to add the warning that I had in my own heart about not wanting to abuse my body.
Very true.
Very biblical.
Very much not the extreme I am in danger of swinging toward.

I have long recognized the importance of sleep toward maintaining my health. All aspects of my person hood - mind, body & spirit - are impacted by receiving adequate slumber. This is by no means a recommendation to mistreat yourself. Rest is important. It's just not more important than God. And not getting enough during a (truly short) season of my life is not a valid reason to disobey.

I shall have no other gods before Him.

copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.

Disappearing Me

I'm sure you noticed I haven't been posting to my blog much lately.

Don't feel bad, I haven't written in my journal much, either.
And I haven't read my Bible much.
I haven't spent much one on one time with my first born son.
I haven't prayed much, except to rage/beg/whimper and otherwise emotionally vomit on God.
I haven't spent much quality time with my husband.
The only thing I think I have done much of lately is feed the bottomless pit that I gave birth to two months ago. Fortunately, he's darling. And his latch is improving. But decidedly little gets done when I find myself sitting to nurse every one and half to three hours.

So I have disappeared. "Misappeared," to quote my three year old.

Unfortunately, it's not just my time and words that have vanished. My mind and heart went AWOL into a pit of self pity. I think yesterday marked the point of returning, though. I hope to write more about it soon. Jesus has shown me so much recently. The slow simmer of sleeplessness has brought up more dross in my life than the fast, flashing blazes of previous trials.

I really do want to write. I want to write for my sake. I want to write for the sake of whoever learns from my life. I want to write for the sake of Jesus' fame. Writing is important. My boys are more important.

Until I figure out how to care for my husband, my soul, my sons, my body, my home & my mind, I'm going to have to maintain this super slothful pace of blogging. Thanks for sticking with me.

Here are some pictures to help ease the wait. . .

N reading to T

Sweet T

My Men

Sweet N

copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.

My New Man

Four weeks ago we had the thrill of welcoming T into our family. T is a family name from my husband's side. (T is named after his father's mother's mother's father.) His middle name means "God is gracious." This child has been living proof of God's mercy since his conception. The fact that we were allowed to conceive him at all is a wonder. When his heart was having irregular rhythms in the womb, Jesus again proved his graciousness by guarding his health. T's labor and delivery were an absolute gift from God. Though I would never call it fun, my experience was so much better than my previous birth.

I felt my first contraction as I was finishing up at Bible study with N. A few more followed, but were very short lived and irregular in their timing. The first one came at about 1130.

By 1230 they were still irregular, but were coming a little bit closer together, about 10 minutes apart. I was about 5 minutes from my birth center and 35 minutes from home. My husband and midwife, though, were both at or near my house. So I drove home. Yes, I drove when I was in labor, but the contractions weren't bad and were still pretty far apart.

I got home at about 1300.  I put away our lunch boxes and turned on the oven to start heating up the birth linens. My friend, V, arrived at 1330 to take N to her house for his afternoon nap. I wanted to roar through my contractions without worrying about terrifying my son. After they left I went to my sitting room to change into a robe, light candles & turn on worship music. The contractions started getting regular, so my husband started timing them. I was surprised that they were only 1.5 minutes apart. I would have guessed them 5 minutes apart.

At 1345 I notified my midwife that the contractions were 1.5 minutes apart. I could still walk and talk through them, but they were pretty close together. I knew she had an appointment at 1400, so I wanted to keep her posted before she was with someone else. She said she would have her assistant come. About five minutes later, though, I received a text that she was going to go ahead and come over.

My midwife arrived sometime between 1400-1405. About every third contraction was intense by the time she arrived. I was still walking through them, but instead of talking I was squeezing all the blood out of my husband's hands.

By about 1410 I was no longer walking or talking. I was kneeling on the ground, praying for God's help. My husband described it as a "two word psalm." - God help - and - God please -

I went to the restroom where my husband applied counter pressure to my knees while I sat upright. I squeezed his forearms and pushed my forehead against his. My water broke while I was sitting on the toilet (rather convenient).

My midwife told me it was time to get up and I told her no. She tried again. I said, "Sorry Suzanne, not going to do it." She dashed off to get the birth stool and brought it to the restroom. She tried to get me to walk the three feet to the birth stool.  Still I refused. But then I found myself walking over. I found out later my dear husband helped me change my mind by gently lifting and guiding me to the birth stool. Good thing he did. T was born about one minute later.

1428. My son was born. My beautiful, purple, limp son. The booger wouldn't breath. My midwife gave him a few rescue breaths, then started to use an ambu bag on him. My husband and I were rubbing, talking, and otherwise trying to irritate him into breathing. After about a minute and a half he started to breath. The umbilical cord was still pulsating, so he had oxygen the whole time. But still, holding a lifeless baby in your arms should be terrifying.

It didn't even occur to me to be afraid. That is the peace that passes understanding. When my midwife asked me if I was scared I said I wasn't, and that it was probably because of my healthcare background. Oh! If only I could take back those words! It had nothing to do with my history of seeing other dead people. Only Jesus can explain why my heart was at such rest as my son flopped in my arms. I still remember the feeling of his warm, moist body resting there without any motion.

So that is the birth story of T.
He weighed 7 pounds, 2 ounces.
He was 19 3/4 inches long.
He had a great pile of black hair, including sideburns and fuzzy shoulders.

I have no idea how my heart survived 32 years without loving this boy.

copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.

Protein Perfection

Sorry I dropped off the face of the planet.

I've been nesting.

I have two weeks to go til I hit my due date. All the supplies are here, should little man be born at home. The nursery is ready. The car is ready. We are ready. We're just praying I don't go into labor on Wednesday because my husband will be three hours away for work.

My lovely sister gave me a recipe for homemade protein bars that far surpass my protein mochas. It was so hot this summer I couldn't choke them down anymore. Knowing of my plight, my sister helped me out. Apparently she is on the same message board as She-Ra (the woman ran the Boston Marathon) And She-Ra posted the recipe. It's fabulous! And it's posted below for you:

2 cups nut butter (peanut, cashew, almond, etc.)
1 3/4 cups honey
2 1/4 cups protein powder
3 cups dry, uncooked oatmeal

Combine nut butter and honey in a large mixing bowl.
Heat for ~ 70 seconds in microwave.
Stir in protein and oatmeal.
Press into a 9x13 dish.
Refrigerate.
Cut into 16 bars.
Wrap in foil or saran wrap.
Store in plastic baggie in the fridge.

Calories: 267
Fat: 5g
Protein: 18g
Carbohydrates: 38g

*Tips*
-I like using half peanut butter, half chocolate peanut butter. It makes them taste like no-bake cookies.
-Using quick oats helps the bars stay more moist and soft.
-Only begin making this if you are feeling well rested and strong. Stirring all that together is quite the workout.

copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.

You Know Your Child's a Climber When. . .

You find his hat on a 6 foot tall shelf.

Here's how the monkey got up there:

He dragged the chair from his art desk to the pantry, climbed up on the cabinet, and voila! He grabbed his cereal while he was up there, too.

I know my child loves climbing, and that he prefers picking out his own food, so this was by no means his first trip up the pantry shelves. But it still startled a smile into me to find his hat resting on the shelf.

(Deepest apologies for anyone suffering palpitations at the chaos that is my pantry)

copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.

Life is Not Fair

For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few. Matthew 7:14 ESV

I was reading Desiring God by John Piper the other night. (a highly recommended read) This verse kicked off a chapter. I couldn't get past it.

It seems I have always known that the gate to Heaven is narrow. I can't recall the first time I heard it. Yet, I was struck by it. By the unfairness of it.

So often I readily identify when life is unfair against me. But this time I was bewildered how unfair it is for me. I have done nothing to deserve this privileged path. God has made the hard way possible (and delightful!) I didn't find the path, it was shown me. Had Jesus not sought me out, I would not be one of the few.

Life isn't fair. Usually it takes from us. But for those of us who belong to Christ, the unfairness is reversed. We are given extraordinary treasure. Unfairly, we find ourselves walking the path of life with Jesus.

copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.

Love the Library

My child really doesn't have a chance. Both nature and nurture are against him. A bookworm he is. A bookworm he will remain.

My husband loves books. I love books. We live next door to the library.

So N and I find ourselves at the library quite a bit. Through the school year we go at least once, if not twice a week. On Tuesdays and Wednesdays they offer story time with a correlating craft. On Thursdays the local senior citizens come to read stories to the kids. There are also crafts and snacks (!) on Thursdays.

The children's librarian, Miss Carol, knows and loves my son. The feeling is heartily returned by him.

Through the summer months story time continues on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, but they add in family day on Thursdays. Family day rocks. A special guest comes in and shares either information or stories, then some sort of treat. So far we've seen birds (owls are SO COOL!), fire fighters, a chef, and made some crafts from around the world. Today we got to read all about pancakes, then ate some. My three year old had four pancakes. Next week magicians are coming.

I feel like the Fonz, but seriously, go check out your library. Even if you don't have small kids, it's fun to watch other people's. When the firefighters were presenting their safety information they had to pause for a moment to help a little girl tie the bow on her dress. It was absolutely the sweetest thing. Apparently she fully believed that they really are there to help her. To aid and assist during accidents, fires, and clothing emergencies.

Since our small town library offers so much, I figure everyone else's does, too. They have guest speakers, giveaways, and free movies to rent. While you're there, you might even find a good book.

copyright (c) Elizabeth, Bug's Beef. All rights reserved.