Blog : Give Me Grace

Women and Calling :: A Q Focus Recap

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Last week I attended Q Women and Calling in NYC.

A friend on Facebook sent me a link just before I headed to South Carolina for Allume. “You should go” she said. At the time I was focused on preparing for my first Christian blogging conference.  My plate was full,  I really didn’t think about it.

Not until I arrived at Allume and found myself eating cupcakes with one of the scheduled speakers for Q. I thought it was interesting that it came up again but still…I’m at Allume right?

I return home to make connections with all the women whose cards I received. I’m online following and messaging the women I feel led to be in community with, when I get a message. She says she going to Q and asks if I’ll be attending. I told her that I’d looked into it but saw it was sold out. In our exchange she mentions her ticket is for the overflow room. An option I hadn’t considered because well, its expensive and….it’s the overflow room.

But God whispers the idea and I pose the question and get an answer. Affirmative.
So – newbie blogger at 2 conferences within 3 weeks of each other! Besides having a lot of fun, I feel I’m being led blissfully blindfolded on a road of His choosing. It’s absolutely thrilling.

this is how it feels...
no blindfold but this is pretty close

God has placed me in the midst of a legion of women who are changing the world for Him…..with words.

Part of me has no idea why I’m here. When I engage with women at conferences I feel tongue-tied. I wonder about the coherency of my sentences. Can I make a point? I worry if I’m way too old for anything new. I’m in a room with brilliant women who seem to be crystal clear with their vision and message. And yes, again, I walked into the conference apologizing for writing about infertility. Yeah. I know. Crazy. But everyone has a story and I’m walking in faith…I’m still figuring this thing out.

And then I hear and am told….all of this…….

by speakers Rebekah and Gabe Lyons, Kate Harris, Shauna Niequist, Katelyn Beaty, Pete Richardson, Rachel Held Evans, Kathy Khang, Bobette Buster, Kathy Keller, Nicole Baker Fulgham, Lauren Wiener and Deidra Riggs

Vocation is comprehensive, present and is often born of our grief.
Ignite the dream in your heart…pursue the fear.
That despite mixed messages our highest calling is to love. It’s not about what you do but how you do it.
To prioritize your gifts. That there is still time.
We should choose the better thing and encourage others to sit at His feet.
We should aspire to exercise the spiritual muscle of courage and respond to the urgency of His call
We should assist frameworks that will lead young women to their calling
To make room for your calling within the framework of marriage or fully embrace our singleness
To pay attention to what God is inviting you to during this season.
To rest in the calling God has for you.

Everything spoken echoed things I’ve written, or thought, or fought for this past year. The day ended with the deep exhale of a woman (me) who finally gets it.

I don’t just write about infertility. But my blog makes room for it. The part of me that received healing connects with and speaks to women who need encouragement. I’m making the leap and facing my fears. I’m asking and answering the questions. I’m surrendering this season of my life – without hesitation – to the God who calls me.

I wrote this as I sat during the last session….

I write about and support dreams
I encourage women as they wait
I am a lover of women
I inspire
I am a caretaker of hearts

This is my calling. It’s a beginning. My soul says yes.

Are you in transition? Have you considered what your calling might be during this season? What steps have you taken in pursuit of it?

Do you remember Diana Ross in The Wiz? The song “Home” from the soundtrack filled my heart as I wrote this post. Enjoy.

Suddenly my world has changed it’s face
But I still know where I’m going
I have had my mind spun around in space
And yet I’ve watched it growing – Diana Ross 

Gratitude :: a memory

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gratitude…in every thing, give thanks

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. 

Habakkuk 3:17-18

He was in the NICU. After 33 weeks and 4 days of living and growing on my deep side, he was just over 5 lbs. He was having trouble breathing and couldn’t latch on. With everything in me…EVERYTHING…I wanted to nurse him. I’d already released my dream of the perfect earth mother water birth. But at least I could have that. I could have a happy breast-feeding experience. Couldn’t I?

After days of pumping and transporting breast milk – I was exhausted. The needs of 3 children at home and recuperation from a c-section left me physically drained. I was feeling the post pregnancy hormonal shift but more than that….I wasn’t getting what I wanted. I was growing weary and resentful. I’d forgotten it had taken me 14 years to get there.

I walked into the NICU almost tearful that day. Pumping wasn’t going well and it seemed my supply was decreasing. I was already a wreck when I turned the corner and saw an emergency team of doctors working on a baby no bigger than a cell phone with legs. Skin, red and raw, a tiny cat call cry, flailing uncontrollable doll sized limbs. This baby was fighting for its life. Time froze for a moment and the grace of gratitude showered my mama weary, embittered soul. No words were necessary. I prayed.

In that moment the stress of trying so hard to have a perfect scenario seemed foolish. I was living my perfection and couldn’t see it because the enemy had crept in to mar our golden moment of victory over infertility. We had won. My boy and I. We were both alive. With so much hope. Breast feeding was important, but after seeing that baby, I knew I wouldn’t stress about it in the same way. I would shift my perspective and choose thanksgiving.

Pride and a feeling of entitlement make us bitter when life doesn’t go our way. And that bitterness can destroy. We forget and take for granted, what we already have. Perfection is relative and we can’t hear God when we don’t practice the perspective of thankfulness. It’s how he speaks and the only way, we understand.

Make the choice. In spite of everything you see, feel and touch in the natural…embrace the spirit of gratitude. Line up with His language of love. Be thankful.

Musings on the word with ::

The Sunday Community, The Weekend Brew and Still Saturday

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Five Minute Friday :: Fly

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fly :: after free fall is flight

Fly

I’m the creator and caretaker of hearts
I want you to live full and free
I want you to dream
I want you to…fly

Free fall to the call of the voice
The voice you’ve known, since the beginning of time
I am your song

I’m ancestral, spiritual, original
I am faith and hope
I am the encourager

I set the course of your life
Determine the start the stop – I’m the beginning and end
Trust me…there is a plan
There is wisdom in the wait. Will you trust me?

I will never leave
I am here.
Always.
Waiting…Covering

I am love. I am God.
And when you’re ready
I’ll free you – to fly.

I promise…after the free fall is flight.

Joining Lisa Jo and friends for Five Minute Friday.

National Adoption Month :: Hers, Mine…Ours.

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November is National Adoption Month.

My family tree has twisted and turned to graft in children of my spirit and I’ve learned to embrace, a broader scope of the word love. Today I’m sharing a little about birthmothers, nature, nurture and entitlement.

A few days ago LiChai and I performed kitchen choreography . We wove in and around each other while making zucchini bread. Enjoying the creative movement required to work together in a small kitchen he danced around me to reach the baking soda. Our conversation had been light, filled with the usual “can I tell you what I built on Minecraft today or the daily grovel for just about anything for the Apple store. Nothing out of the ordinary. It was light. That should have been my first hint at the depths we were about to encounter.

Out of nowhere he asked if Ade’ was the only baby from my tummy. He’s almost 13. He knows the answer to this…even knows a little of the story of loss that tells the story, of others. But he asked and I answered. Yes. Ade’ is the only (living) one that grew in my tummy. For some reason I can’t help shifting the conversation away from Ade’. I always do that. Fallout from my struggle as a dual citizen no doubt, but still. So I quickly dismiss the fact of Ade’s biological connection and tell him how I used to wish I’d given birth to him…that I could take full credit for all the wonderful things about him. I remind him of his place in the family, my heart. He is my first baby and always will be.

Then I tell him how the Lord showed me, very clearly, how destiny comes into play and how I could not have birthed him. He wouldn’t be who he is if I’d birthed him. I learned to accept the plan which allowed me the honor of raising him…having no biological connection and knowing nothing of his sacred womb time. This is the beauty of adoption. And I love him.. Who he was then…who he is …now. I’m proud of how we found each other.

I praised the magnificence of his biological blessings…things to me, love could have nothing to do with. “You wouldn’t have the crazy curly, spiky hair you have. You wouldn’t have skin the color of fine dark chocolate. You wouldn’t have that little birthmark under your left foot. You wouldn’t be you, I said.”

He twirled around and found his way to my softness and wrapping thin wiry arms around, said “I love you mama. I’m glad things worked out the way they did.” And my heart skipped a beat. I remembered the hurt and loss that accompanies adoption. Because for me to have him, meant – she couldn’t. I’m the greatest beneficiary of her loss and to know that…hurts.

But I trust Gods sovereignty. And, I suffered too.

5,6,7,8.

Step into Resignation. Side to side Surrender. Bend into Relinquishment. Contract and Freeze for Entrustment. Breathe and bow for Peace. Surely we performed our own dance. Whipping up choreography in tune and time to music we’d never heard.

Sigh.

Adoption is complex. You don’t walk away with the baby and forget the journey. Much like birth, you’d choose to do it again….with full knowledge of pain ahead. There are so many layers to unravel, so many stories to tell. Healing is ongoing and restoration…takes time.

There are things about him that prove my motherhood. He’s been stamped and marked with my love. Nurture has had her say and my style of parenting, way of loving, languages for affection, sense of humor, sensitivity, attitude and beliefs – all play a part in shaping who he is today.

I still remember, when only a few months old, he seemed to mimic my smile. He crinkled his eyes until they almost shut as he connected with me in one of his first belly laughs. Typical Gh’Rael style. Like my mama. Like me. In that moment I felt the pull and strength of nurture and knew he was becoming my boy.

Neither us gets full credit for who he is. God, the creator of all had a plan for his life, using two women to shape the heart of one man. His destiny is wrapped in ours. I tell him of her love and fully embrace his story. Every beautiful, heart breaking part. It frees us both from a lifetime of denial and painful questions. Honoring who he is…because of her…because of me…is a gift.

Dearest Birthmother,

Today he is my boy and still, amazingly..yours.

I parent him mindful of you. I swear I do. You are never far away.

Thank you for the gift of your child. In loving him,I love you.

Always,

Lisha

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