God

Born a Momma

/ Gina Haney / 7 Comments

I’ve never forgotten the pleading and howling. I’ve never forgotten the lamenting and groaning and yes, sometimes – whining and pouting.

I haven’t forgotten the day the stick said I was, but I said it couldn’t be, I couldn’t be, and I chuckled like Sarah, because I’d like to tell you I’m full of faith bone deep, but that’s not me. No, I had to have a nurse… and a doctor confirm it.

There is an ache soul deep when a momma needs to be a momma. No, I didn’t misspeak. It’s a very common thing to be born a momma. It’s also common in our broken world to give birth and never be a momma – really.

I spent 3 years asking God why not me. Then He gave me the marvelous wonder of motherhood, and I’ve spent every day since asking God why me.

You know where I see pretty babies all the time?

Pinterest.

And Instagram.

And Facebook.

And Twitter.

There is a constant stream of adorable babies. Have you noticed? I promise you the 6.7 million women battling infertility notice.

No, battling wasn’t a poor choice of word either. There are people battling cancer, poverty, Aids, depression, addiction and… infertility.

Don’t think cancers the only thing that can eat away at your insides, or that addictions or depression affects you neurologically but not infertility. And don’t think for a minute that Aids and poverty are the only socially isolating issues.

Becky said, “our hurts seem so small comparatively.” Haven’t we all been there? It’s not a bad place to visit. We all need reminding of how blessed we are. Thank God He isn’t into comparisons. There’s enough God to tend to the cancer, Aids, and us without compromising the other.

Social media can be a hurtful place for those battling infertility. Lucky for me, 8 years ago social media wasn’t a thing. Or at least wasn’t a thing I knew about.

I snuck in for a bath in the jacuzzi the other day. That’s where I shed most of my tears and whaled most of my infertility prayers. I stared up at the ceiling and memories came flooding back.

Memories of how I felt so alone and forgotten as everyone else was having their first, second… fourth babies. I felt like I was forgotten. God where is mine?

Infertility left me feeling broken and ugly. If I was fearfully and wonderfully made then why am I broken, and unable to conceive?

I felt like I was striped of what made me a woman. Like I slipped down the conveyer belt and missed the quality control inspection.

Forgotten.

Or maybe punished?

Friends and family? Well, the ones I felt comfortable talking to didn’t know what to say. They meant well. It’s hard to know what to say to hurting people period, but especially if you’ve never been there. I would hear things like:

-You want kids? Take mine! -Maybe it’s just not meant to be.

-Don’t worry. Just relax and it’ll happen. -Your trying too hard.

-Why don’t you just adopt?

-It must not be Gods will and you wouldn’t want anything that isn’t in Gods will for you would you?

While there is some truth to some of these, and total truth to the others. Hurting people only hear of one more way they are a failure.

They hear of one more way they weren’t blessed and highly favored.

One more way they are blowing it.

Today is her birthday. But, Inside I feel like it’s my birthday too. Not in a steal your thunder kind of way, but a remembering the thunder that tore me open and made us belong to one another.

No it isn’t when I came, but when I became – the only thing I’d spent my whole life dreaming of being.

So today I’ll celebrate her birth.

I’ll celebrate my becoming Mommy.

I’ll save the wishes for her and I’ll make the prayers. I’m praying that all those women born Mommas find their babies. image

A Purpose and a Place

/ Gina Haney / 5 Comments

The coffee said it right there on the package; Paradise is where I am.” Ha! Bologna! How can that be? It sure doesn’t feel like paradise when your heads spinning with the bewilderment of it all.

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It was time. After eleven years of youth ministry the job we never thought we’d leave was not our calling any longer. How did we know?
• We lost motivation.
• We noticed our conversations during the week shifting from child centered ministry topics to adult centered ministry topics.
• Unsettled feeling. We were growing uncomfortable in our comfort zone.
• Our productivity had dropped.
• A fire began stirring inside of us that we can’t quench but have no outlet of release as the pressure builds.

So with certainty, and I won’t lie – a bit of fear; Josh resigned youth ministry last fall.
Whew! That was a load off! You know that amazing piece God gives when you are in perfect obedience with Him.

Now?

Hmmm…
It feels more like we’re stuck in a game of pin the tail on the donkey. Blindfolded and dizzy trying to find our way.

If you think it sounds like I’m pouting you’d be right. I’m the grumpiest pin the tail on the donkey contestant you’ll ever meet.

I like to know where I’m going and what’s to be expected of me. I also like – no – need to feel useful. And doesn’t everyone need to feel they have a purpose and a place?

The aha moment hit about here. When I bounced my thought off a wizened christian woman she disagreed. While I respect her thoughts I still can’t shake the feeling that she’s wrong about this one.

Is this valley another lesson in serving because He loves me, not so He will love me?

I’ve learned of a couple of fine lines we Christians kinda have trouble finding balance on.
A. The line between law and love. We get hung up on one and forget the significance of the other.
B. The line between works and faith. Again, we get hung up on one and forget the significance of the other.

I don’t know about any of you, but I get to feeling like I am such a mistake that I go about trying to makeup for it. And if that isn’t an insult to the blood; I don’t know what is.

The wizened Christian doesn’t think God likes siestas. She likened it to car shopping. “Does God care if you buy a car? Yes”, she said. “Does he care what color it is? No.” So if I heard this right; God cares if we serve but, isn’t picky about how we serve? And that just sounded absurd to me.

I don’t know how this is going to all turn out. I wasn’t sure it was something I could write with authority on, because I’m still feeling a bit bewildered.

I started the coffee and stood at the sink to wait for the ready beep. The snow flakes were falling fine and fast but you know the way they slow and twirl right next to the glass of the window? It’s like they’re dancing for you!

I’ve got approximately 22 minutes and 14 seconds to be alone with God before the kids start trickling down the stairs, and the house is filled with “No! It’s my turns.” and “What’s for breakfast?”. I don’t think I’ll do a thing. I’ll just set and be with He who created to have communion with me. Paradise is where you are. Yeah, maybe so. So far as earth is concerned anyway.

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Aid for the Grey Sky Days

/ Gina Haney / Leave a comment

Our story’s aren’t the same. Some have buried friends, children, siblings, parents. Some have been martyred. Some are clinging to their I.V. pole as they heave from the chemo. Others are swaddling babies and cheering victories. But whatever in this broken world you’re doing; this still rings true.

Josh proclaimed it from the pulpit that Sunday morning; how we have peace not because we understand, but because we have faith in our God who understands.

A few hours later we read the news. I realized we can proclaim the truth when our hearts need it – then witness how things really can get worse and our hearts can need it even more.

Our souls groan at the headlines, and we must recall the truth we’ve heard, we’ve spoken, we’ve read, and we believe; to deliver us in this time.

Yeah! Absolutely, God is our crutch. Because we are those people who’d rather hobble through broken than set down or set out.
We would rather acknowledge our weakness’ and lean on God’s strength than pretend we’re fine, it’s fine, we’ve got this, and walk around saving our pride and hiding our authentic need for a savior.

That truth that we must declare isn’t just for the brokenness within our own flesh, or within our own walls. It expands across the ocean. It reaches into houses, and huts, and hearts.
The only effective aid that can span the whole space of the broken world, and hold up the to the weight of it all – is Jesus.

If we hide it, deny it, or make light of it; then we are withholding the aid the whole wide world needs.
But if our gospel be hid, it is hid from them who are lost. 2 Corinthians 4:3

We can know it in our heads, hide it in our hearts, and feel it in our bones. “Your ways our higher than ours.”

Jim said every breath we take is only possible because God gives it, but the last thing we do when we die is exhale. You can die without God, but you can’t take your next breath without Him.

For better or for worse; it is impossible to hear someone’s last words and not be changed. For better or for worse; it is impossible to hear Gods word and not be changed. Your heart becomes tough or tender.

Lisa ask where the happy was. I could have sworn the whole world was a monochrome grey that day. I said I didn’t know, but that’s not exactly true. It’s just that neither of us needed a sermon right then. We just needed to be real, and to lean, and to not put some phony patch on things. Just lean on our crutch, and let the tears fall, and the sky look grey. Because God always sends a rainbow, but he reserves it for after the storms done passed.

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