Miracles in the Bible are called miracles, signs, and wonders, mighty deeds, and (certain) works. Miracles in the Bible are described by events which cannot be reproduced by nature and that are outside normal experiences (supernatural). A Biblical miracle is something astonishing, incredible, extraordinary, or unusual like the birth of a baby or barely missing an accident. And I’m not talking about the times where God works within the normal parameters of everyday life to work His will.
The examples of miracles in the Bible show the purpose for those miracles was to prove who God is – THE God, omnipotent, etc. These miracles were done by those proclaiming God’s word as proof that they were speaking the truth. Exodus 4:30, Mark 16:15-20, John 2:22-23John 3;2, John 14:10-11, Acts 4:29-32, Acts 8:5-12, Acts 13:7-12, Acts 14:2-3, Acts 15:12, Romans 15:18-19, I Corinthians 2:4-5, I Thessalonians 1:5-6, Hebrews 2:1-4. The miracles were performed so the words of the person doing the miracles would be believed by the audience.
Some say that those who speak in tongues are very spiritual. Where is the evidence of this? I Corinthians 14:6-19 emphasizes that those who did speak in tongues were not spiritually superior to others. I Corinthians 12:7-30. Some say the gift of miraculous healing is because God does not want us to suffer because we are His children. If this is the case, then what about all the first-century Christians who suffered horribly? The Christian is not spared from the same diseases, death, or tragedy to which everyone else is subjected. In fact, we are told to expect all this (I Corinthians 10:13, II Timothy 3:12, I Peter 4:12-17).
Now to this, some will say that a person won’t be healed if they don’t have enough faith. Some people were commended for their faith in the presence of a miracle (Mark 5:34). But what about dead people who were revived (John 11:44)? Their faith couldn’t have been an issue. The same can be said for people who were possessed by demons (Luke 9:42, 11:14). And for others, they just didn’t KNOW (John 9:11-12, 17, 25, 35-36, John 5:13). Sometimes the faith of the companions was cited (Mark 2:5). Paul surely had faith, but his faith did not remove his “thorn in the flesh”, his “messenger of Satan” (II Corinthians 12:7-10). Timothy had stomach problems that were not miraculously healed (I Timothy 5:23). Trophimus, a fellow worker with Paul, had to be left due to his sickness (II Timothy 4:20). Epaphroditus is an example of one who was sick “nigh unto death” (Philippians 2:27-30), yet he was not miraculously healed.
In Matthew 13:58, even though unbelief was predominant, Jesus did a few miracles there. Their continued unbelief made further miracles unnecessary. He was just practicing what he had preached in Mark 6:11 and Matthew 7:6.
Once God finished revealing all the information He wished to reveal (what we call the New Testament), the need for miraculous proof became non-existent. We can study the Bible diligently and see the miracles that were performed and know that the words spoken in the Bible are truth. We have all we need in the Bible (II Peter 1:3). To claim that we still need miracles today is to say the Bible isn’t all-sufficient (I Corinthians 1:22, II Timothy 3:16-17).
I Corinthians 12-14 was written to the church in Corinth because the spiritual gifts (speaking in tongues, healing, and prophecy) were being misused. The spiritual gifts are defined in chapter 12, and it goes on to explain how miraculous gifts should function harmoniously when used correctly. Chapter 13 goes on to tell how these gifts won’t be around forever, particularly verses 8-13. 13:10 talks about when “that which is perfect” comes. Paul was contrasting quantities, incomplete and partial miraculous gifts with something that would be total and complete. This is what we have – the fully revealed Word of God. The spiritual gifts were compared to childish things in 13:11, whereas the full truth that we have today (John 16:13). We no longer have partial access to God’s Word.
The same point was made to the church at Ephesus. The gifts given by Christ (Ephesians 4:8) were to have a specific duration (4:13). Many verses in the New Testament indicate that there is ONE faith (Acts 6:7, Acts 13:8, Acts 14:22, Acts 16:5, Galatians 1:23, Jude 3). Not a whole bunch of little groups believing different things. Unity between these divisions is impossible; because the unity being called for in the New Testament is a unity of truth, not an agreement to disagree. The faith being referred to is the completed body of information that sums up Christianity – the Bible (Ephesians 4:5). Miracles lasted until “the faith” was completely revealed.
Speaking in tongues as referred to in I Corinthians 14 refers to people speaking in languages that were unknown to the person doing the speaking (I Corinthians 14:2, 4, 13-14, 19, 27). It was the ability to speak in a foreign language without having prior knowledge of the language. The people speaking were being heard in the native language of the listeners (Acts 2:9-11). All tongue-speaking was done in known human languages, not incoherent gibberish (I Corinthians 14:9-11). The “tongues of angels” as referred to in I Corinthians 13:1 is often brought up in reference to speaking in tongues that are not understood by human ears. The meaning of angel is a messenger – one who communicates a spoken message. They were God’s messengers to humans. They are always represented in the Bible as communicating in human language, and they have the ability to speak all human languages. There would be no spiritual benefit for people to talk in a different “angelic” language.
Speaking in tongues was to be a sign to unbelievers rather than believers (I Corinthians 14:22). It was to be used to confirm to them the Word of God. What people practice today is not done under those terms. In fact, when a person attends a worship service today and is skeptical of the validity of tongue-speaking, it is said that tongue-speaking cannot occur because of unbelief present. This is in direct opposition to what was taught to the Corinthians. There is also every indication that the speakers of tongues in the New Testament could control themselves. They were not overcome, babble, or flail about. They did it one at a time, not interrupting one another, and were to remain silent if no interpreter was present (I Corinthians 14:27-28, 32).
Today, those who can speak in tongues or perform any other miraculous action is said to be baptized in the Holy Spirit, or Spirit-filled. But in the Bible, just because a person could do these things did not mean he had been baptized in the Holy Spirit. It is impossible to tell to whom John the Baptist is referring when he refers to the baptism of the Holy Spirit in Matthew 3:11. But in Luke 24:49, Jesus is clearly talking to his apostles. If this verse is referring to all Christians, then likewise, all Christians would have to be personally guided “into all the truth” (John 16:13) and would have no need of the Bible (John 14:26). Acts 1:4-8 talks about how it would be soon and that it would enable them to witness to the world what they had experienced by being with Jesus. This passage quotes what John the Baptist had said previously in Matthew 3, so it’s obviously talking about the same thing. This was confined to the apostles.
Acts 2 details that it was the apostles who spoke in tongues and taught the people. The 12 apostles were the ones who were baptized by the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:7, 2:14, 2:37, 2:43, 5:12) in Acts 2. They were all Jews. Then in Acts 10, the Gentiles received this gift in the household of Cornelius. This is prophesied in Joel 2:28. Joel 2:28-29 are further fulfilled by the apostles spreading the gifts of the Holy Spirit by laying on of their hands (Acts 8:17-21, 9:10, 10:3, 10, 16:9, 21:9). Philip received his ability to perform miracles in this way (Acts 6:5-6). Paul laid his hands on the Christians in Ephesus (Acts 19:6). Timothy received his in the same way (II Timothy 1:6). There is never an example of anyone with these gifts spreading their gifts further. The only examples given of spreading these gifts are from the laying on the apostles’ hands.
The baptism of I Corinthians 12:13 refers to the baptism that adds one into the body of Christ because it says “baptized into one body…” It doesn’t say they were baptized with the Holy Spirit. They were the beneficiaries of the Spirit’s guidance or assistance. They were baptized by the Spirit, not with the Spirit.
For us today, there is “…one baptism…” (Ephesians 4:5). Water baptism is confirmed in John 3:5, Acts 18:8, Ephesians 5:26, and Titus 3:5. There are no apostles left to lay hands on anyone today. Holy Spirit baptism was unique to the apostles and the first Gentile converts and doesn’t exist today. There is no need for miraculous gifts today because we have God’s complete written Word. Divine healing, speaking in tongues, miracles, and prophecy simply do not exist today.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Speaking the Truth in Love
I was reading an article this morning by Douglas Hoff. His point was that when we speak the truth in love, we are not being arrogant. Here are some points that he made.
Declaring there is only one true church Jesus will save is not a mark of arrogance. It is stating the truth that will save souls (Ephesians 1:22-23).
When people believe one church is as good as another, there is no incentive to seek the true church.
What does it mean to speak the truth in love? Apparently, some have concluded it means never upsetting anyone. However, this is not in harmony with God's word. See Matthew 15:12 and John 6:60-66.
Accusing a person of being arrogant when he stands for the unique identity of the Lord's church makes one a judge of the heart. Only God can judge a person's heart.
If you are interested, some of his articles (including this one) can be found at Seek The Old Paths. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Declaring there is only one true church Jesus will save is not a mark of arrogance. It is stating the truth that will save souls (Ephesians 1:22-23).
When people believe one church is as good as another, there is no incentive to seek the true church.
What does it mean to speak the truth in love? Apparently, some have concluded it means never upsetting anyone. However, this is not in harmony with God's word. See Matthew 15:12 and John 6:60-66.
Accusing a person of being arrogant when he stands for the unique identity of the Lord's church makes one a judge of the heart. Only God can judge a person's heart.
If you are interested, some of his articles (including this one) can be found at Seek The Old Paths. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Birth Ball Exercises
I've gotten my birth ball out, and DH aired it up for me to the precise specifications. Well, I'm sitting on it, and it feels a lot better. I can't kneel, so what are some other exercises I can do on a birthing ball? Just so you know, I'm expecting answers from all my midwife, doula, nurse, and experienced followers!
My Son's Latest Funny Feat
WARNING: Not for the squeamish!
With deer hunting season in full swing, it could only be expected that my son get the fever too. Especially since we have great deer hunters on both sides of our family. While DH is out hunting today, DS really wishes he was out there too. He has bunk beds in his room. I went in there this morning to put laundry on his bed for him to put away. The sight I saw made me laugh out loud! He had taken his huge, almost as big as him, Clifford dog and had it strung up and hanging from his top bunk. He was all decked out in camo, and had his plastic play knife and was "processing his buck deer". He said it's a twenty point deer. I raced in the living room to get the camera, and by the time I got back (less than a minute), there was no evidence, and he was quietly putting away his laundry. His Clifford was laying on his made bed, and the knife was nowhere to be seen. Oh well. At least I have the memories!
With deer hunting season in full swing, it could only be expected that my son get the fever too. Especially since we have great deer hunters on both sides of our family. While DH is out hunting today, DS really wishes he was out there too. He has bunk beds in his room. I went in there this morning to put laundry on his bed for him to put away. The sight I saw made me laugh out loud! He had taken his huge, almost as big as him, Clifford dog and had it strung up and hanging from his top bunk. He was all decked out in camo, and had his plastic play knife and was "processing his buck deer". He said it's a twenty point deer. I raced in the living room to get the camera, and by the time I got back (less than a minute), there was no evidence, and he was quietly putting away his laundry. His Clifford was laying on his made bed, and the knife was nowhere to be seen. Oh well. At least I have the memories!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
My Daughter’s Birth Story
I went into labor at 2 a.m. on Friday, January 19th. I count 2 a.m. because that is when I could no longer sleep through the contractions, even though they began the night before. At first, I didn’t want to wake my husband because I didn’t think the contractions would amount to anything. So I waited for 2 more just to make me feel better, then 2 more. When I got to 4 contractions all within 10 minutes of the previous one, I woke him so he could time the contractions for me and help me not to panic. We had been timing the Braxton Hicks contractions for weeks now, just to get practice for the big show. Now we would see how well we could really do it. We continued to time contractions for the rest of the night. They never got regular, but they were still close enough that I couldn’t get rest in between them. They stayed pretty much within 10 minutes of one another, but they never developed a pattern. We just kept waiting. They weren’t very painful, just really uncomfortable at this point. They felt pretty much just like the Braxton Hicks I had been having all along. I wasn’t sure if they would eventually go away or if they would continue and lead to a baby. I had felt exactly the same way the previous weekend, but I was so nervous then, I think the adrenaline stopped the contractions. I kept thinking that surely I was in labor this time because they just wouldn’t stop, and I had done all the little tests to try to stop labor.
That afternoon, we brought our son to my parents for them to watch, and then I went to my chiropractor for one last adjustment. I was pretty sure it was labor because it hadn’t stopped in so long, but I wasn’t able to pinpoint where I was in labor because what was happening to me and what I felt like didn’t match the descriptions in my Bradley workbook. Some things matched for early first stage, some things were kind of like late first stage. Like, I never felt like I should anxiously clean or walk around. I just wanted to sit down and rest or lay down. So for the most part I did. I had been spotting, having a runny nose, loose BMs since the day before the contractions had started. The contractions didn’t really peak. They would just go pretty strong from the beginning, and then after about a minute, they would just fade. They kept on like this all day Friday and Friday night.
Around midnight Friday night, my mother-in-law arrived. We had been lying down for a while, but I couldn’t get to sleep. So I heard her pull in. Well then I didn’t feel comfortable making noise, so I tried to be quiet. Then I just got miserable. I knew in the morning, my folks would bring over our son, and I would be trying to take care of him. So I was worried how I would handle it all and be quiet too. Around 2 a.m. Saturday morning, I decided I wasn’t going to be able to sleep anymore, and I was getting very frustrated. I still wasn’t 100% sure if I was even in labor since still nothing matched that book. In the chart in my book, first stage labor was when contractions were about 5 minutes apart or less. Some of mine were, but some weren’t. Some contractions were about a minute long, but most of them were much longer. I thought for sure that the baby wouldn’t come if my contractions weren’t regular, so we waited to call our Doula/ Bradley instructor until she’d had more rest. After talking with my Doula several times, we thought I would feel better if I were checked to see where I was or even if I was in labor.
So we went to the hospital around 6 Saturday morning. Mary Jo was assigned to me as my nurse. When she checked, I was 3-4 cm. dilated and 30% effaced. We (me, my husband, and my Doula) walked and walked for about an hour and a half. There was still no change, so we went walking again. When I came back to the room at 11:30, I still wasn’t dilated to a 5, so we chose to go home.
It seemed like when I was at home, I could relax physically, but not mentally. Looking back, it seemed like it hurt more at home for me because I didn’t know where I was in labor, and I couldn’t gauge when we should leave for the hospital. I wanted to get to the hospital before transition, but only just before. But since I didn’t know where I was in labor, I couldn’t decide if we should leave or stay or call someone. So that part for me was very stressful. I was starting to find a rhythm to my contractions as to how to deal with them. They still were not regular or evenly spaced. But I found if I breathed in very deeply at the very beginning of the contraction and then blew it out slowly and repeated that through the contraction then it was not as scary for me. The contractions were still not really super painful. I was comforted because they still weren’t as bad as my menstrual cramps. So I figured I had a long ways to go, but it wasn’t that bad, so I could make it through the contractions. I also kept waiting until it got to where I couldn’t talk through my contractions. It was not fun to or easy, but I still managed to, so that also made me not think I was making any progress. I realized that talking on the phone with people seemed to stall my contractions for a bit. They would always resume as soon as I got off, but they seemed to stall while I talked on the phone. I think it was my subconscious need to sound like everything was o.k. When I realized this, I just refused to talk to anyone else on the phone. My husband just relayed messages for me. After all day Saturday and most of the night, I just decided it would be easier to walk around the hospital than to try to be quiet at home, so we called our Doula and left for the hospital again.
She met us at the hospital around 5 a.m. on Sunday I think, and once again we had Mary Jo. I was really glad because I liked her quite a bit, and she seemed more inclined than most to allow me to move around and do things naturally and let me eat. I was progressing very slowly, and I was getting really frustrated because I was also very tired. I was trying extra hard to be nice because I knew I was so tired and probably getting snappy with people. We had brought drinks and snacks to the hospital because we thought I would be limited to ice chips. As long as this was taking, I knew that would NOT work. We would bring them with us as we would walk through the deserted hospital halls and munch and drink. It seemed like we did this all night long. I eventually had to quit walking because my back was hurting so badly. It had hurt throughout my pregnancy, but it was just hurting much worse now. I’m not sure when it started getting worse, but there just came a time when I couldn’t walk anymore because of it. Then I just wanted to lay down. I so much wanted it to be done with because I was so tired. I kept imagining sleeping on my clean sheets in my warm bed in the dark. We did shut the blinds though and kept it pretty dark in the room and turned the sound for the monitor off.
Some time in the afternoon, I was really worried about not having enough energy to actually get the baby out. I was worried that my labor would just stop because I was completely out of energy. I had been 3 days without rest, and I was sincerely worried. We talked to my nurse about maybe walking again to try and speed things up. But I just didn’t know if I could walk anymore. So we decided to try for a little bit. Walking only lasted about 15 minutes. Then when we got back, it seemed like I was just so much worse. So we decided I should take something to help me rest for a little while. The nurse brought in a pallet, and we all tried to rest. I never did go to sleep, but I did rest and semi-doze. I could hear the other two sleeping, but it was still relaxing. When it wore off, I did feel better.
We spent the rest of the day Sunday at the hospital just trying to do what we could to help my body do what it needed to do. I pretty much tailor sat on the bed and closed my eyes to relax during a contraction. In between, we all just chatted. Later that evening, I started feeling very strange. I was having a hard time understanding what people were saying to me. Mary Jo was talking to me about which procedures we did and didn’t want, and I realized this was not normal to not understand her like that. At first I thought it was because I was still so tired. I’m still not sure it wasn’t. But then I started feeling very dizzy and a little disconnected from myself. I didn’t really know exactly who I was or who anyone else was either. They checked my blood pressure, and it was about the same as it had been. I thought it might be blood sugar. I had been eating my little snacks, but what if that hadn’t been enough? I ate some more when the nurse left and drank some juice, and it did seem to help a little.
Mary Jo was eventually replaced by Carolyn. She told us she had been trained in England as a midwife, and we were very glad because she also understood the importance of being able to move around and the natural aspects of birth. She told me after my exam that I was in transition. I was relieved because I figured I had only 30 minutes to an hour left to go, then the contractions would all be over. This was about 7 p.m. I think. I had my contraction rhythm down by now. I found the position that hurt the least and stayed put. I didn’t want to move, and I sure didn’t want to make myself hurt worse. I would close my eyes during a contraction to concentrate, and we would all talk in between. My back was still hurting, and I couldn’t do anything to make it quit, so I just tried to make it as comfortable as possible. After an hour had passed, I kept thinking it would all be over in a few minutes, but it kept going and going. I remember telling my husband I just wished I could go home and be able to go to sleep in my own bed. I kept getting really cold in my hands and feet and nose. I really didn’t want to eat anything else because I was sick to my stomach. I never vomited, but I felt like I might. I still wanted to drink though.
At one point, the nurse told me the baby wasn’t aligned exactly right and asked if I had been having back labor. She said the baby’s head was at an angle, and that was what was causing it to take so long. So we tried some pelvic rocking. That is really hard to do when you have a hep lock stuck in your wrist! It seemed like everything I wanted to do put pressure on that needle. That was what was the most annoying at that point. The pelvic rocking made it feel better, but my knees had just had enough, and the hep lock was hurting, so I couldn’t do very many. Then we tried some lunging with my foot on the rocking chair. That seemed to do the trick, because my back quit hurting, and it was easier to relax. I got back in bed, and just stayed there for the longest time. They asked me to lay on my left side, but it just hurt so much worse, and I felt like lying on my right side was how I needed to be. It was the only position I could find that didn’t make everything worse. I was having trouble relaxing then, and I was shaking. I don’t know if it was because I was cold or what, but if I was shaking during a contraction, I could NOT relax during it, and I couldn’t breathe normally, and it seemed like they lasted a lot longer than a minute. Then they did start lasting longer, and I SO wanted to go to sleep! When the nurse came back in and started to do my exam, my water broke.
For me, I had heard from virtually everyone that my contractions would get horrible after my water broke, so I was really dreading it. It also kind of forced me to accept that 2nd stage was coming. So I panicked in a big way. After that, I couldn’t stop shaking at all, and I couldn’t relax at all, especially not during a contraction. I wasn’t breathing normally – I was taking quick shallow breaths and doing everything wrong. I just kept thinking what would happen if I couldn’t push the baby out and they might induce or do a section. This made me worse, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
About an hour after my water broke, I guess I just was so exhausted I couldn’t help but relax. I just kind of stayed in one position and was in my own little world. Just me and my contractions. And occasionally, someone would get me water when I wanted it. I was trying to conserve any spare energy I had, so I was keeping my eyes closed for most of the time. I know that doesn’t seem like much, but it was also keeping me from remembering I was in a hospital in labor. I had convinced myself that these were just menstrual cramps, which was pretty much what they felt like. Different in some ways, but a lot like them.
About 3 a.m. Monday morning, I was laying there with my eyes closed, and I tried to breathe in with the contraction with my stomach like usual. But instead I found myself pushing just a bit. Not much, but enough that I thought I better stop and wait until I had “the overwhelming urge” to push. The nurse had been in previously and told me that I was fully dilated except for a little lip on one side. She said I was to let her know when I felt like pushing. With the next contraction, I did the same thing again, and I couldn’t help it. So there was really no “urge” to push, just my body pushing. But I didn’t want Carolyn to come back in there. When she had told me there was that little lip, she had me do a sample push anyway to see if the lip would move aside. I gave a little push then, but I told her I couldn’t push. First, it hurt a lot worse with the contraction. Second, those little words in all my books were imprinted on my mind behind my closed eyes – “Don’t push until you feel the overwhelming urge to push.” And I didn’t feel it, so I didn’t think I should push. Plus, it would waste precious energy to push prematurely. So she told me that when the time came, I would push, and there was no saying I couldn’t. It made me angry. I just thought it’s my body, and I’m not going to push before I feel like it. When I actually started pushing, I didn’t want her to come back in there because I didn’t want her to be mean to me anymore. So I didn’t tell anyone I was pushing. After several pushes, I think it was obvious to anyone in there that I was pushing. So I told them (my Doula and my husband) I was pushing, and of course they wanted to call Carolyn. I tried to convince them she didn’t need to come yet. My Doula asked if she could look to see if I was bulging. I still didn’t want to be immodest (another contradiction to what I had studied), but I figured better that than to have Carolyn back in there. After looking during a push, she agreed to wait a little bit to call Carolyn, but just then she came in there anyway to check my blood pressure. I tried not to push while she was in there, but I couldn’t NOT push. She saw me pushing and I had to tell her. I could feel when the baby started to move in the birth canal. It was a strange sensation. A friend had said it would feel like sandpaper moving. It didn’t quite feel like that, but it did feel a little rough.
That is when everything started going so fast. Before that, it was so relaxed. The pushing wasn’t hurting. It felt good – like stretching a sore muscle relieves the soreness in a way. The environment was quiet and dark and relaxed and then all of a sudden, it was like a whole bunch of bees flying around a hive. So I decided it was in my best interest to keep my eyes shut still.
My regular doctor was moving and couldn’t come in, so I was going to get the doctor on call. This doctor was a man, and I was hugely embarrassed that another man would have to see me naked. My regular doctor was also a man, but I had had months to prepare myself and convince myself he was Santa Claus (he has white hair and a very happy face) and therefore not real. I just tried not to think about the new doctor. I heard him come in and introduce himself. I think I introduced myself, but I’m not sure. I heard the nurse tell him the things in my birth plan like I wanted to push instinctively, and I didn’t want an episiotomy, but I did want perineal massage and hot compresses. He asked the nurses where the hot water was for the compresses, and I thought that was funny because they had the birth plan for perusal for hours and didn’t have the hot water ready. So that made me kind of like him a little. I also listened to how he was reacting when they said I didn’t want an episiotomy. He seemed to be totally o.k. with it, which is more than I can say for my regular doctor. He touched my ankle to make sure I was awake (ha), and told me that he was ready and I should just let him know when I felt like I should push. He seemed so calm in the midst of all the rush and confusion. I liked that about him.
Then Carolyn started the perineal massage, and I screamed. She kept trying to reassure me, but I just couldn’t quit while she was doing that. When it was time to push again, I said something, and realized I couldn’t hold my legs up and push. I just didn’t have the energy. So my Doula held up one leg, and my husband held up my other leg while I pushed. This was embarrassing, but I decided not to think about it. I was still clinging to sanity by keeping my eyes closed. In between pushes, I was trying to go to sleep, as silly as that sounds. Someone said the baby had a bunch of dark hair. I wanted my husband to look so he could tell me about it later. Then the doctor asked if I wanted a mirror to see the crowning. I didn’t because that would mean I would have to open my eyes, and that just seemed like a monumental effort, so I just said no thank you and told my husband to look for me. The doctor asked me to not push with the next contraction so I would stretch instead of tear. That was very hard, and it hurt to not push. I guess I felt the “ring of fire”, but it also wasn’t as bad as I expected. It was a stinging, tingling sensation accompanied by a lot of pressure. When the head was born, he said I hadn’t torn and should be fine with no stitches. I clung to this statement, as I really am terrified of stitches for some reason. I was just as scared of the possible stitches as I was of the birth. The cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck twice, but there was no problem. They just looped them off and everything was fine. So then when it was time for the shoulders to be born, Carolyn did more of that perineal massage. I don’t know if it was the perineal massage or the shoulders, but I tore – 2 inches, 2nd degree. I do know that the perineal massage hurt worse than the actual birth. When she was coming out, it didn’t feel like I was having a bowel movement. Hers was a totally different feel. I didn’t feel it in my rectum at all.
As soon as she was breathing, they put her on my stomach. I found I was so weak, I couldn’t even hold her. I was afraid I would drop her. My Doula helped me hold her for the first time. She supported my arms so I could hold my baby girl. I don’t really remember pushing for the placenta, but I did ask to see it for curiosity’s sake. I’d never seen a placenta before. I began to hemorrhage. The doctor gave my husband some hot compresses and told him where to push. Then he showed him where and how to massage my uterus to stop the bleeding. During this, I just wanted to hold her and kiss her. One nurse told me not to kiss the blood – ha! Someone hooked up the IV line with pitocin because they were having trouble stopping the bleeding. I didn’t care about the pitocin anymore, so I let them worry about that while I tried to nurse my baby. We finally got her on (she was better at it than I was) and in a position where I didn’t think she’d fall. The doctor told me I had torn (which I knew I had) and that it was a second degree tear. I looked at him for the first time, and I asked if he would stitch me up, and could he please use lidocaine. He looked at me as if I was strange to ask, but he said he would. I guess it’s just common, but I had refused so many other common things, I wanted to make sure I got that one. Those shots stung – it was just one right after the other, and I had to bite my lip to keep from saying ow for each one. Then he started stitching, and I could feel those too. I was just very glad when he was done.
That afternoon, we brought our son to my parents for them to watch, and then I went to my chiropractor for one last adjustment. I was pretty sure it was labor because it hadn’t stopped in so long, but I wasn’t able to pinpoint where I was in labor because what was happening to me and what I felt like didn’t match the descriptions in my Bradley workbook. Some things matched for early first stage, some things were kind of like late first stage. Like, I never felt like I should anxiously clean or walk around. I just wanted to sit down and rest or lay down. So for the most part I did. I had been spotting, having a runny nose, loose BMs since the day before the contractions had started. The contractions didn’t really peak. They would just go pretty strong from the beginning, and then after about a minute, they would just fade. They kept on like this all day Friday and Friday night.
Around midnight Friday night, my mother-in-law arrived. We had been lying down for a while, but I couldn’t get to sleep. So I heard her pull in. Well then I didn’t feel comfortable making noise, so I tried to be quiet. Then I just got miserable. I knew in the morning, my folks would bring over our son, and I would be trying to take care of him. So I was worried how I would handle it all and be quiet too. Around 2 a.m. Saturday morning, I decided I wasn’t going to be able to sleep anymore, and I was getting very frustrated. I still wasn’t 100% sure if I was even in labor since still nothing matched that book. In the chart in my book, first stage labor was when contractions were about 5 minutes apart or less. Some of mine were, but some weren’t. Some contractions were about a minute long, but most of them were much longer. I thought for sure that the baby wouldn’t come if my contractions weren’t regular, so we waited to call our Doula/ Bradley instructor until she’d had more rest. After talking with my Doula several times, we thought I would feel better if I were checked to see where I was or even if I was in labor.
So we went to the hospital around 6 Saturday morning. Mary Jo was assigned to me as my nurse. When she checked, I was 3-4 cm. dilated and 30% effaced. We (me, my husband, and my Doula) walked and walked for about an hour and a half. There was still no change, so we went walking again. When I came back to the room at 11:30, I still wasn’t dilated to a 5, so we chose to go home.
It seemed like when I was at home, I could relax physically, but not mentally. Looking back, it seemed like it hurt more at home for me because I didn’t know where I was in labor, and I couldn’t gauge when we should leave for the hospital. I wanted to get to the hospital before transition, but only just before. But since I didn’t know where I was in labor, I couldn’t decide if we should leave or stay or call someone. So that part for me was very stressful. I was starting to find a rhythm to my contractions as to how to deal with them. They still were not regular or evenly spaced. But I found if I breathed in very deeply at the very beginning of the contraction and then blew it out slowly and repeated that through the contraction then it was not as scary for me. The contractions were still not really super painful. I was comforted because they still weren’t as bad as my menstrual cramps. So I figured I had a long ways to go, but it wasn’t that bad, so I could make it through the contractions. I also kept waiting until it got to where I couldn’t talk through my contractions. It was not fun to or easy, but I still managed to, so that also made me not think I was making any progress. I realized that talking on the phone with people seemed to stall my contractions for a bit. They would always resume as soon as I got off, but they seemed to stall while I talked on the phone. I think it was my subconscious need to sound like everything was o.k. When I realized this, I just refused to talk to anyone else on the phone. My husband just relayed messages for me. After all day Saturday and most of the night, I just decided it would be easier to walk around the hospital than to try to be quiet at home, so we called our Doula and left for the hospital again.
She met us at the hospital around 5 a.m. on Sunday I think, and once again we had Mary Jo. I was really glad because I liked her quite a bit, and she seemed more inclined than most to allow me to move around and do things naturally and let me eat. I was progressing very slowly, and I was getting really frustrated because I was also very tired. I was trying extra hard to be nice because I knew I was so tired and probably getting snappy with people. We had brought drinks and snacks to the hospital because we thought I would be limited to ice chips. As long as this was taking, I knew that would NOT work. We would bring them with us as we would walk through the deserted hospital halls and munch and drink. It seemed like we did this all night long. I eventually had to quit walking because my back was hurting so badly. It had hurt throughout my pregnancy, but it was just hurting much worse now. I’m not sure when it started getting worse, but there just came a time when I couldn’t walk anymore because of it. Then I just wanted to lay down. I so much wanted it to be done with because I was so tired. I kept imagining sleeping on my clean sheets in my warm bed in the dark. We did shut the blinds though and kept it pretty dark in the room and turned the sound for the monitor off.
Some time in the afternoon, I was really worried about not having enough energy to actually get the baby out. I was worried that my labor would just stop because I was completely out of energy. I had been 3 days without rest, and I was sincerely worried. We talked to my nurse about maybe walking again to try and speed things up. But I just didn’t know if I could walk anymore. So we decided to try for a little bit. Walking only lasted about 15 minutes. Then when we got back, it seemed like I was just so much worse. So we decided I should take something to help me rest for a little while. The nurse brought in a pallet, and we all tried to rest. I never did go to sleep, but I did rest and semi-doze. I could hear the other two sleeping, but it was still relaxing. When it wore off, I did feel better.
We spent the rest of the day Sunday at the hospital just trying to do what we could to help my body do what it needed to do. I pretty much tailor sat on the bed and closed my eyes to relax during a contraction. In between, we all just chatted. Later that evening, I started feeling very strange. I was having a hard time understanding what people were saying to me. Mary Jo was talking to me about which procedures we did and didn’t want, and I realized this was not normal to not understand her like that. At first I thought it was because I was still so tired. I’m still not sure it wasn’t. But then I started feeling very dizzy and a little disconnected from myself. I didn’t really know exactly who I was or who anyone else was either. They checked my blood pressure, and it was about the same as it had been. I thought it might be blood sugar. I had been eating my little snacks, but what if that hadn’t been enough? I ate some more when the nurse left and drank some juice, and it did seem to help a little.
Mary Jo was eventually replaced by Carolyn. She told us she had been trained in England as a midwife, and we were very glad because she also understood the importance of being able to move around and the natural aspects of birth. She told me after my exam that I was in transition. I was relieved because I figured I had only 30 minutes to an hour left to go, then the contractions would all be over. This was about 7 p.m. I think. I had my contraction rhythm down by now. I found the position that hurt the least and stayed put. I didn’t want to move, and I sure didn’t want to make myself hurt worse. I would close my eyes during a contraction to concentrate, and we would all talk in between. My back was still hurting, and I couldn’t do anything to make it quit, so I just tried to make it as comfortable as possible. After an hour had passed, I kept thinking it would all be over in a few minutes, but it kept going and going. I remember telling my husband I just wished I could go home and be able to go to sleep in my own bed. I kept getting really cold in my hands and feet and nose. I really didn’t want to eat anything else because I was sick to my stomach. I never vomited, but I felt like I might. I still wanted to drink though.
At one point, the nurse told me the baby wasn’t aligned exactly right and asked if I had been having back labor. She said the baby’s head was at an angle, and that was what was causing it to take so long. So we tried some pelvic rocking. That is really hard to do when you have a hep lock stuck in your wrist! It seemed like everything I wanted to do put pressure on that needle. That was what was the most annoying at that point. The pelvic rocking made it feel better, but my knees had just had enough, and the hep lock was hurting, so I couldn’t do very many. Then we tried some lunging with my foot on the rocking chair. That seemed to do the trick, because my back quit hurting, and it was easier to relax. I got back in bed, and just stayed there for the longest time. They asked me to lay on my left side, but it just hurt so much worse, and I felt like lying on my right side was how I needed to be. It was the only position I could find that didn’t make everything worse. I was having trouble relaxing then, and I was shaking. I don’t know if it was because I was cold or what, but if I was shaking during a contraction, I could NOT relax during it, and I couldn’t breathe normally, and it seemed like they lasted a lot longer than a minute. Then they did start lasting longer, and I SO wanted to go to sleep! When the nurse came back in and started to do my exam, my water broke.
For me, I had heard from virtually everyone that my contractions would get horrible after my water broke, so I was really dreading it. It also kind of forced me to accept that 2nd stage was coming. So I panicked in a big way. After that, I couldn’t stop shaking at all, and I couldn’t relax at all, especially not during a contraction. I wasn’t breathing normally – I was taking quick shallow breaths and doing everything wrong. I just kept thinking what would happen if I couldn’t push the baby out and they might induce or do a section. This made me worse, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
About an hour after my water broke, I guess I just was so exhausted I couldn’t help but relax. I just kind of stayed in one position and was in my own little world. Just me and my contractions. And occasionally, someone would get me water when I wanted it. I was trying to conserve any spare energy I had, so I was keeping my eyes closed for most of the time. I know that doesn’t seem like much, but it was also keeping me from remembering I was in a hospital in labor. I had convinced myself that these were just menstrual cramps, which was pretty much what they felt like. Different in some ways, but a lot like them.
About 3 a.m. Monday morning, I was laying there with my eyes closed, and I tried to breathe in with the contraction with my stomach like usual. But instead I found myself pushing just a bit. Not much, but enough that I thought I better stop and wait until I had “the overwhelming urge” to push. The nurse had been in previously and told me that I was fully dilated except for a little lip on one side. She said I was to let her know when I felt like pushing. With the next contraction, I did the same thing again, and I couldn’t help it. So there was really no “urge” to push, just my body pushing. But I didn’t want Carolyn to come back in there. When she had told me there was that little lip, she had me do a sample push anyway to see if the lip would move aside. I gave a little push then, but I told her I couldn’t push. First, it hurt a lot worse with the contraction. Second, those little words in all my books were imprinted on my mind behind my closed eyes – “Don’t push until you feel the overwhelming urge to push.” And I didn’t feel it, so I didn’t think I should push. Plus, it would waste precious energy to push prematurely. So she told me that when the time came, I would push, and there was no saying I couldn’t. It made me angry. I just thought it’s my body, and I’m not going to push before I feel like it. When I actually started pushing, I didn’t want her to come back in there because I didn’t want her to be mean to me anymore. So I didn’t tell anyone I was pushing. After several pushes, I think it was obvious to anyone in there that I was pushing. So I told them (my Doula and my husband) I was pushing, and of course they wanted to call Carolyn. I tried to convince them she didn’t need to come yet. My Doula asked if she could look to see if I was bulging. I still didn’t want to be immodest (another contradiction to what I had studied), but I figured better that than to have Carolyn back in there. After looking during a push, she agreed to wait a little bit to call Carolyn, but just then she came in there anyway to check my blood pressure. I tried not to push while she was in there, but I couldn’t NOT push. She saw me pushing and I had to tell her. I could feel when the baby started to move in the birth canal. It was a strange sensation. A friend had said it would feel like sandpaper moving. It didn’t quite feel like that, but it did feel a little rough.
That is when everything started going so fast. Before that, it was so relaxed. The pushing wasn’t hurting. It felt good – like stretching a sore muscle relieves the soreness in a way. The environment was quiet and dark and relaxed and then all of a sudden, it was like a whole bunch of bees flying around a hive. So I decided it was in my best interest to keep my eyes shut still.
My regular doctor was moving and couldn’t come in, so I was going to get the doctor on call. This doctor was a man, and I was hugely embarrassed that another man would have to see me naked. My regular doctor was also a man, but I had had months to prepare myself and convince myself he was Santa Claus (he has white hair and a very happy face) and therefore not real. I just tried not to think about the new doctor. I heard him come in and introduce himself. I think I introduced myself, but I’m not sure. I heard the nurse tell him the things in my birth plan like I wanted to push instinctively, and I didn’t want an episiotomy, but I did want perineal massage and hot compresses. He asked the nurses where the hot water was for the compresses, and I thought that was funny because they had the birth plan for perusal for hours and didn’t have the hot water ready. So that made me kind of like him a little. I also listened to how he was reacting when they said I didn’t want an episiotomy. He seemed to be totally o.k. with it, which is more than I can say for my regular doctor. He touched my ankle to make sure I was awake (ha), and told me that he was ready and I should just let him know when I felt like I should push. He seemed so calm in the midst of all the rush and confusion. I liked that about him.
Then Carolyn started the perineal massage, and I screamed. She kept trying to reassure me, but I just couldn’t quit while she was doing that. When it was time to push again, I said something, and realized I couldn’t hold my legs up and push. I just didn’t have the energy. So my Doula held up one leg, and my husband held up my other leg while I pushed. This was embarrassing, but I decided not to think about it. I was still clinging to sanity by keeping my eyes closed. In between pushes, I was trying to go to sleep, as silly as that sounds. Someone said the baby had a bunch of dark hair. I wanted my husband to look so he could tell me about it later. Then the doctor asked if I wanted a mirror to see the crowning. I didn’t because that would mean I would have to open my eyes, and that just seemed like a monumental effort, so I just said no thank you and told my husband to look for me. The doctor asked me to not push with the next contraction so I would stretch instead of tear. That was very hard, and it hurt to not push. I guess I felt the “ring of fire”, but it also wasn’t as bad as I expected. It was a stinging, tingling sensation accompanied by a lot of pressure. When the head was born, he said I hadn’t torn and should be fine with no stitches. I clung to this statement, as I really am terrified of stitches for some reason. I was just as scared of the possible stitches as I was of the birth. The cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck twice, but there was no problem. They just looped them off and everything was fine. So then when it was time for the shoulders to be born, Carolyn did more of that perineal massage. I don’t know if it was the perineal massage or the shoulders, but I tore – 2 inches, 2nd degree. I do know that the perineal massage hurt worse than the actual birth. When she was coming out, it didn’t feel like I was having a bowel movement. Hers was a totally different feel. I didn’t feel it in my rectum at all.
As soon as she was breathing, they put her on my stomach. I found I was so weak, I couldn’t even hold her. I was afraid I would drop her. My Doula helped me hold her for the first time. She supported my arms so I could hold my baby girl. I don’t really remember pushing for the placenta, but I did ask to see it for curiosity’s sake. I’d never seen a placenta before. I began to hemorrhage. The doctor gave my husband some hot compresses and told him where to push. Then he showed him where and how to massage my uterus to stop the bleeding. During this, I just wanted to hold her and kiss her. One nurse told me not to kiss the blood – ha! Someone hooked up the IV line with pitocin because they were having trouble stopping the bleeding. I didn’t care about the pitocin anymore, so I let them worry about that while I tried to nurse my baby. We finally got her on (she was better at it than I was) and in a position where I didn’t think she’d fall. The doctor told me I had torn (which I knew I had) and that it was a second degree tear. I looked at him for the first time, and I asked if he would stitch me up, and could he please use lidocaine. He looked at me as if I was strange to ask, but he said he would. I guess it’s just common, but I had refused so many other common things, I wanted to make sure I got that one. Those shots stung – it was just one right after the other, and I had to bite my lip to keep from saying ow for each one. Then he started stitching, and I could feel those too. I was just very glad when he was done.
Our baby girl stayed with us in the room instead of going to the nursery. We loved being together and just relaxing and sleeping. She slept sideways on my stomach instead of in her bassinet. That’s just where she just seemed to nuzzle in. We went home the next day, and we are all healthy and full of love.
My Son's Birth Story
When we were still dating, my husband and I both talked about how much we wanted children. When we got married, things just didn’t seem to work out naturally. After trying for a while and seeing several doctors, we were told we were infertile – the big I word. We were not daunted because we really believed (and still do) this was the Lord pointing us in the direction of adoption.
The flurry of activity was over, and the time wasn’t up, and we began to get nervous. The law here says the birth mother can change her mind after the child is placed in the adoptive family’s home. She has 10 days after the birth to change her mind. So of course, that is what we were focusing on.
Then we got the call from the adoption agency that they were going to induce labor early on the 22nd of October. The birth mother had asked if we wanted to be there for the birth. Wow! I never thought I would get to be so lucky! Of course we wanted to be there! It was about a 2 hour drive, but we were there at 7 a.m. I had been working on crocheting a baby blanket for him, and I brought it along as it wasn’t finished yet. The birth mother (it’s so hard to not use her name!) really liked it! My parents, my sister and bil, my mil, and my grandmother all showed up and were waiting in the waiting room. There was all this excitement, but I was afraid to look too excited because she might think I was crazy and change her mind right then and there.
He was so tiny! He had been screaming this whole time, and as soon as I held him and snuggled him in real good, he got very quiet. He had such a solemn little expression on his face. He looked so wise and so small at the same time. Then it was time for his first bath and the measurings and such. I carried him down the hall to the nursery and stood there while they washed him gently and talked about how lusty his little cry was – he surely had good lungs! During this, all the family is watching at the window, but I was too amazed to pay much attention to them.
Well, remember the law that says the birth mother has 10 days? It crept by so slowly! On day 10, the phone rang. It was her. I was so terrified to pick up the phone, but I did. I’m sure we talked, but all I remember was her saying “It’s o.k. I’m not going to change my mind.” To me, those are wonderful words, indeed!
We didn’t really know where to start, so we prayed intensely and just started calling all the agencies we could find in the phone book. We called so many and got so many funny responses! We had specifics in mind. Like we wanted to do an in-state adoption since it would be easier to travel to get our baby, and we wanted a baby so very badly. One by one, the agencies were ruled out for one reason or another. We felt so down-hearted because we really wanted a baby. We went home and cried.
The next week at work, I got a call on my cell phone. It was Grace Adoptions. We had left a message on their answering service. They were on vacation and had just gotten my message after returning. We asked them all our questions, and things sounded really good. I was standing in the hall at work talking to them, and had to go into the office again and get my husband immediately when I got off the phone. We took our break right then and RAN to the car to call them back. We told them we would be there right after we got off work. And we did!
We talked to them, and decided to start filling out the paper work right away. They could tell we were so excited, and they cautioned us that it could take up to about two years to have a baby. We understood. That is pretty common in this area. We filled out all the paperwork and returned it to them the Friday night before Labor Day. When we got there, they told us there was a woman looking at our information and wanted to see a portfolio. We stayed up all night long finishing it and brought it to them Saturday morning. Turns out that woman didn’t pick us, but the next woman did! She liked our information, liked our portfolio, and was due October 28! When the agency called and gave us this news, I just cried for a long time. I was so happy!
The birth mother wanted to meet us (understandably), and so we went with the agency to go meet her and her family. I was so nervous she wouldn’t like us or that I would say something wrong. We got there, and her dad and step-mom were so nice to us and offered us refreshments. Then we met her, and I will not say her name to respect her privacy. But she was nicer than all of them! She asked all kinds of questions, and being so nervous, I don’t remember a single one of them. She did tell us “It’s a boy!” I do remember that they asked if we wanted certain testing done, and we didn’t. We didn’t care if he had birth defects or what race he might be or any of that. We just wanted our son! So we went home and began the frantic process of getting our house ready for a baby and for our home study.
We cleaned and went out and got things and clothes and diapers and well, just all kinds of stuff! We had a rail put on our back porch, fixed the front walk, and put the crib together all in the same day. We rearranged our room and figured out where the bassinet would go.
The flurry of activity was over, and the time wasn’t up, and we began to get nervous. The law here says the birth mother can change her mind after the child is placed in the adoptive family’s home. She has 10 days after the birth to change her mind. So of course, that is what we were focusing on.
Then we got the call from the adoption agency that they were going to induce labor early on the 22nd of October. The birth mother had asked if we wanted to be there for the birth. Wow! I never thought I would get to be so lucky! Of course we wanted to be there! It was about a 2 hour drive, but we were there at 7 a.m. I had been working on crocheting a baby blanket for him, and I brought it along as it wasn’t finished yet. The birth mother (it’s so hard to not use her name!) really liked it! My parents, my sister and bil, my mil, and my grandmother all showed up and were waiting in the waiting room. There was all this excitement, but I was afraid to look too excited because she might think I was crazy and change her mind right then and there.
Turns out she had started labor on her own early that morning before even coming to the hospital. I was glad because this meant it was our son’s time to be born. The doctor went ahead and gave her pitocin to speed up her labor, and she had an epidural a while later. About this time, Michael left the room to give her privacy, but she asked that I stay with her. She said she wanted me to be there for the birth of my child. Lunch came and went, and I didn’t even realize it. Then after a check from the nurse, the whole room changed and went into activity. It was time to push.
Her step mother and I stood on either side of her head. She was feeding ice chips, and I was keeping a cool cloth on her head. It seemed like I was doing such a pitiful thing when she was doing such a wonderful thing! We were both holding her hands. Shortly after, the doctor said the baby is crowning. He asked if she wanted to look, but before she did, she asked me if I wanted to look. That was so special to me! I didn’t realize a baby’s head could look so big! But there he was – almost in the world as we know it! When his head came out, the cord was wrapped around his head twice, and they had to untangle him. Of course, when they said that I was terrified! But everything was o.k. As soon as his head was unwound, he began to scream! When his arms came out, he was waving them madly, and he grabbed hold of the scissors for his umbilical cord. The doctor commented on his strength (it was so cute!). Then all of a sudden, he was out, and the birth mother asked if I wanted to cut his cord. He told me it would be tough to cut and that some people had trouble with it so don’t feel bad. With all my adrenaline, it seemed like a hot knife going through butter. Then the nurses checked him and did all those little tests. The nurses were looking around confused about whom to give the baby to. The birth mother said to give him to his mother, and they handed him to me.
He was so tiny! He had been screaming this whole time, and as soon as I held him and snuggled him in real good, he got very quiet. He had such a solemn little expression on his face. He looked so wise and so small at the same time. Then it was time for his first bath and the measurings and such. I carried him down the hall to the nursery and stood there while they washed him gently and talked about how lusty his little cry was – he surely had good lungs! During this, all the family is watching at the window, but I was too amazed to pay much attention to them.
The hospital wasn’t busy, so they said we could room in with him in a recovery room. They had a lactation consultant come in and brought us a breast pump. He nursed really well, and we supplemented with a SNS (which I grew later to hate). He was actually in our arms and with us, and it didn’t seem real! Some of our friends had driven the 2 hours to see us, and I will never forget how special that was to us! They bought us supper, and were as excited as could be.
Well, remember the law that says the birth mother has 10 days? It crept by so slowly! On day 10, the phone rang. It was her. I was so terrified to pick up the phone, but I did. I’m sure we talked, but all I remember was her saying “It’s o.k. I’m not going to change my mind.” To me, those are wonderful words, indeed!
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Jesus Loves Me, This I Know
Did you know that Jesus loves you? No, I mean REALLY loves you?
As little children, we sing this song, and we firmly believe it, and it makes us happy! But something changes as we get older. Sometime between being little and high school, we think this song doesn't apply to us anymore. Maybe it's because we're not "little ones" anymore like the song specifies. So we sing it the few times someone leads it in the worship service, but we feel uncomfortable doing so because we don't really believe it. Then as adults we sing it to our children. It doesn't feel so uncomfortable because He really does love our little ones! And we believe that! Who could NOT love our little ones?! Especially their creator. By this time, we don't really think of ourselves as being divinely loved at all. What happened? Why do we begin to think this song does not apply to us?
But God has always given every evidence that He does love us. He didn't want us to go to hell, so He sent a way out for us. He sent His only Son. Jesus even died a horrible death because He loves us! He's preparing a place for us.
God has the kind of love for us that he is so happy when we talk to Him in prayer and when we read the words He has given us. When we come to Him with sadness in our hearts, He knows and understands and wants to ease our pain. When we are excited about something, He wants to jump up and down with us (yes, it's o.k. for adults to jump up and down with joy - you know the kind that fills to overflowing) and squeal with delight. When we can't sleep at night or feel completely alone, He wants to hold us in His arms and rock us gently. He is so very sad and hurt when we ignore our times to get together. He wants to hold our hands all through life if we will let Him.
So when you sing Jesus is all the world to me, my life, my joy, my all... Mean it. Live it. Because knowing He loves you like He does, you won't be able to help keeping it all to yourself. And when you sing Jesus Loves Me, sing it with all your heart. Even if you do mumble the little children ones part or replace it with big ones or something like that.
Jesus loves me this I know.
For the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to Him belong.
They are weak, but He is strong.
Yes, Jesus loves me!
Yes, Jesus loves me!
Yes, Jesus loves me!
The Bible tells me so.
As little children, we sing this song, and we firmly believe it, and it makes us happy! But something changes as we get older. Sometime between being little and high school, we think this song doesn't apply to us anymore. Maybe it's because we're not "little ones" anymore like the song specifies. So we sing it the few times someone leads it in the worship service, but we feel uncomfortable doing so because we don't really believe it. Then as adults we sing it to our children. It doesn't feel so uncomfortable because He really does love our little ones! And we believe that! Who could NOT love our little ones?! Especially their creator. By this time, we don't really think of ourselves as being divinely loved at all. What happened? Why do we begin to think this song does not apply to us?
But God has always given every evidence that He does love us. He didn't want us to go to hell, so He sent a way out for us. He sent His only Son. Jesus even died a horrible death because He loves us! He's preparing a place for us.
God has the kind of love for us that he is so happy when we talk to Him in prayer and when we read the words He has given us. When we come to Him with sadness in our hearts, He knows and understands and wants to ease our pain. When we are excited about something, He wants to jump up and down with us (yes, it's o.k. for adults to jump up and down with joy - you know the kind that fills to overflowing) and squeal with delight. When we can't sleep at night or feel completely alone, He wants to hold us in His arms and rock us gently. He is so very sad and hurt when we ignore our times to get together. He wants to hold our hands all through life if we will let Him.
So when you sing Jesus is all the world to me, my life, my joy, my all... Mean it. Live it. Because knowing He loves you like He does, you won't be able to help keeping it all to yourself. And when you sing Jesus Loves Me, sing it with all your heart. Even if you do mumble the little children ones part or replace it with big ones or something like that.
Jesus loves me this I know.
For the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to Him belong.
They are weak, but He is strong.
Yes, Jesus loves me!
Yes, Jesus loves me!
Yes, Jesus loves me!
The Bible tells me so.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Bible Time - Prophetic Parenting
I read this blog of a friend of mine. Here is a link to her blog if you are interested. I thought it was very good and couldn't resist sharing. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
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