A Way In The Wilderness

 

“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” -Isaiah 43:19

*Most of this was written 2 years ago, from a 2019 perspective, and just recently updated, revised, and put into a legible format.*

•The Before:

Since I share my testimony often, my mental health history and what I’ve been through are probably no secret. For those of you who don’t know, here’s a little backstory: I’ve been fighting an on and off battle with severe depression and anxiety since at least junior high. I had some anxiety issues going through elementary school but things got very bad in seventh grade, then again junior year when I was put on medication, taken to counseling, put on suicide watch, taken out of school, and started self-harming. I got saved for the first time in the midst of that, and then completely healed and delivered of all of my demons. I’m a firm believer in if you don’t learn something the first time, God will bring you through it again, and He did. 

A few years later, after being happily and joyfully unmedicated, all of the sudden, like a dark cloud rolling in, my life was changed for the worse again. That was January 5, 2014. 5 years, 7 months, and 14 days at least that I had to navigate through the wilderness that I was in, trying to trust that God would bring me through it again. For quite awhile, I was able to become very high functioning, almost as if nothing was ever wrong. But that spark, that life, that joy wasn’t there. I had been on Prozac for so long that it had almost completely stopped working. I took 80 MG everyday, which is about max dosage on that kind of medication, and stopping cold turkey can cause bad issues and side effects. I never had the slightest intention of stopping my medication, but I had gotten to where I couldn’t remember to take it even with the alarms I set. And even then, when I did take it you couldn’t tell much difference. I can’t tell you how long I was off of such a high dosage cold turkey, I really don’t know. But I started getting a lot worse. My anxiety was through the ROOF, ALL THE TIME. I was nauseas 24/7 for reasons completely unknown to me. I couldn’t physically function, I missed work, my heart would always be pounding and a lot of times I couldn’t eat. I would worry all the time about someone I loved dying, and what I would do. I could not function because all of the terrifying thoughts in my head were always screaming at me, sometimes to the point I would just break down and cry. And it began as just that, anxiety. But my anxiety kept getting worse and worse and started bringing depression back with it. I was suicidal in high school. I won’t say I was suicidal this year. But 

I wanted to die. Any day off I had recently when I was home for the day, all I could do was cry. For hours at a time. Two specific days my husband and I were both home, I remember crying curled up in his lap for I don’t know how many hours at a time, and got so bad I almost asked him to call my mom. I remember standing in the bathroom up against the wall, sliding down to the floor crying and screaming “I just want to die. I just want to die.” When really, I just wanted to live. To live without that pain. Just for it to stop. But when you’re in that place, even death feels easier than what’s in your own head. 

I finally broke down to my mom about being off of my medication because I couldn’t hardly survive another day without getting some kind of help. She took me back to the doctor. Though the whole time I just wanted to avoid going back to the doctor to be told how broken I am and how much help I need, I knew mom was always right. I’ll never be able to thank her enough for taking off of work and coming over to be with me just for me to sleep all day, and take me to the doctor. I was taken off of Prozac, after about 5 years more or less, and put on Effexor that day. They said it would help my panic, and improve my mood. I wasn’t on it long, but the first week it seemed to do a lot of good. I felt like my mood had lifted a little, but I still felt very anxious all of the time. I think it may have been two weeks in, I had gotten more anxious than ever. I was sick in the car all day coming home from out of town, with all I can guess was anxiety. I got home from a 10 hour shift on a Tuesday night and tried to go to bed. I layed in bed all night, completely unable to sleep. My heart was pounding out of my chest all night, my hands and my feet were going numb and I felt like I was dying. Never in my life have I been unable to go to sleep for a full night. By the time I finally fell asleep at 10 am the next day (missing work) I had been up for about 24 hours. (And if ANY of you know me, I can happily sleep for a solid 13-14 hours a day. My body craves sleep all of the time.) That day we went back to the doctor, where I told them everything that was happening, and they immediately took me off of Effexor due to the thoughts it was giving me. I had lost almost 10 pounds in that one week. For those of you who don’t know, they’ve come out with this new and fantastic thing called a gene sight test which determines what medicines will and will not work for and with your body. With my new insurance we were able to do it that day, but the results wouldn’t be back in time for us to leave for the conference. They suggested putting me on something else new until then but I declined thinking it only made sense to just wait a couple days for the results, after all I’d been off Prozac way longer than that. I went back to work the next day with renewed hope that I’d soon get something that would work for me and at least make me feel more like myself for a while. That was Thursday. Friday I went to work and I guess I was feeling the full effects again of being complete mentally ill and completely unmedicated. At the time I was in a high, well-paying position and head over two departments at the company I worked for. It was Friday which was the day we ordered inventory. It was the first day since I started that I didn’t finish my order, and any time a fellow employee or customer would approach me, I was all but a dam about to burst with tears and break down. I remember as I was ordering, the most overwhelming feeling came over me that I just felt like I absolutely couldn’t stand to live any longer. I felt completely manic, like I was suffocating. I remember ending up in the floor in tears alone in that aisle that day. I finally got to go to lunch and it was all I could do but make it to my car, and as soon as I got inside it was like a dam burst and I cried until I couldn’t breathe. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know. I don’t know a lot of things about what was happening to me. (As I re-read and revised this from 2019, this gave me chills.) Needless to say I couldn’t eat lunch that day, but I went back to work feeling at least a little better. I also can’t thank my coworkers enough for being so understanding about something even I couldn’t understand, and not pressing the issue too much, because I couldn’t have given any answers. I had also worried myself sick all week over leaving for the conference. I worried about it since right after I signed up, but the closer by day it got, the sicker with worry I became. I can’t even begin to list all of the things my sick, irrational brain was feeding me to feel that I had to worry about. 

I worried about leaving Murray, Clover and Albert. I worried about the long van ride over, and getting sick or having some kind of panic attack. I worried about the church services and staying in the hotel. Everything you can imagine, and everything you can’t imagine because that’s how far my mind had gone. But even in that dark state of mind, I already knew why I was so worried for something that should have brought me peace. 

The enemy always wants to keep you from something that He sees will be a big blessing to you. He never wants you to fully attain what God has for you. He hates it with every fiber of his being and trembles at even the thought. I’ve always found that the days I don’t ‘feel’ like going to church, always end up the days I need it most, and the most Spirit-filled services. Amidst all the suffering and fear, I had faith that God would meet me there, as promised. And He did. (More chills😭)

•The During:

(I had to piece a lot of this together from notes I wrote 2 years ago and memory so I don’t have every little detail like I’d like, but enough to get the point across.)

I got up early that Sunday morning to meet my mom and go meet the church van to set out for the conference. I was a nervous wreck. I remember stopping at my great uncles church for their morning service and I couldn’t even bring myself to clap along for worship. After, we stopped for breakfast and then later made it to the hotel to unpack and prepare for services the next day, if I remember correctly. 

•Day 1

Monday morning, August 19, 2019 was the first service. I was still a nervous wreck and as much as I knew I needed to, I already had it in my mind that I was NOT going up to the front for altar call. I was terrified and nauseas. Many ladies from my church were begging me to go up and pulling on me, and from the place I was in, it just filled me with so much anger. After I don’t know how long, I finally broke down and went up. Theresa Arwood had given the message that morning, and was who was praying for me when I went up. I remember while I was up there, she told me that every 3 seconds a bad thought stays in your head, a stem of your brain turns black. To rebuke or get rid of all those thoughts and just fight through it. She said she saw a lie in my head that had two hands, she saw it coming out of my ears like how it had come in. During the prayers, they said I was healed of anxiety and depression today, that everything ends today to never look back. To “put my hand in the plow, and never look back”, in those exact words. (Going back over it now, I see so much more significance in those words than I did then.) In that moment, I remember that I didn’t physically feel like I was healed. I still felt so nervous and heavy. But after that prayer, I was hopeful and ready for what God had in store for that nights service. I told Him that whatever He had for me and wanted to do, that I was ready.

•Night 1

Jamie Massey gave the message that night. During the message she received the Holy Spirit as she was praying over people. At one point during her prayers she said something that made me think it was about me, I don’t even remember what it was now, after what came next. The next thing she said was over everyone, like she didn’t say it over a specific person. At least if it was, she didn’t say who. She said there is someone here that is about to be activated for divine kingdom purpose and appointment. I think my first thought was just, “Wow, I wonder what God has for that person, I can’t imagine being them.” I would never usually suspect anything like that was about me. It sounded like a word for someone important, that was going to do big and mighty things and I’ve just never felt like enough. As much as I doubted, I still had this lingering question  in my heart whether it was for me.

Later the speaker said whoever hadn’t been baptized in the Holy Ghost and wanted to,

 to come up. By that time I had gotten brave enough to go up of my own free will. While I was up there, a woman I had never seen or met in my life approached me and whoever was praying for me at the time and says, “Can I please tell you something that God just told me about you?” All I could think was “absolutely, of course.” She began saying, ‘When she started talking about being activated for divine kingdom purpose, that was for and about you. God is about to raise you up above everything else so you can see from a better perspective. You’ll be doing things no one expected, put in a position you never thought you’d be able to do, doing things you never dreamed possible for yourself.” Like in a ministry, leadership type role. That I would soar like an eagle above others. She also told me that when I received the Holy Spirit, it would be like a shaken coke can, that I would spew and explode. (Two coke cans exploded on me during the next week) She had said the spirit of God was all over me and all through me, which came as a shock at the time because I didn’t feel it. (I get chills looking back and reading this now. I’ve been chasing this calling and it’s meaning ever since then and I feel closer now than I ever have.)

•Day 2

The Tuesday morning service was all about “giving birth to a miracle.” It wasn’t given in the literal sense of birthing a child, but birthing a miracle in your life. But during the message, she spoke on actual birth and said something that I had already known for a long time, whether she meant it in that sense or not. I knew everything in that service was meant for me as well. At the time, I had been longing to have a child. In the message, she spoke about Mary and now she had to travel 91 miles, 3-5 days to get POSITIONED in the place she needed to be to give birth to her miracle. In my heart I felt that I had known for a long time that I wouldn’t be able to have a child of my own until I was free and healed from what all was holding me down. She began to say,”tell your husband to get READY, because it will bring him as MUCH joy as it will YOU.” As SOON as she said that, that’s all I needed to know it was for me. They spoke against abortion and miscarriages and began saying it was time for the Elizabeth’s, that haven’t been able to bare children that it was their time now. Thinking this was more in the figurative miracle sense, she then said “your baby is coming before her baby.” I’ve never quite known what that meant. I thought I did at one time but I still have yet to figure it out.

Back in the hotel room that night every lady in our room said the message about birthing a miracle made them think of me, and I confessed to everyone how badly I had wanted a child. 

My husband and I got pregnant with Rhett that week. My husband also got a promotion the next week that put the both of us in a better “position to give birth to a miracle.”

That night I also read a passage in my Bible that really stuck with me at the time. 

“So put to death the sinful, earthly things lurking within you. Have nothing to do with sexual immorality, impurity, lust, and evil desires. Don’t be greedy, for a greedy person is an idolater, worshiping the things of this world. Because of these sins, the anger of God is coming. You used to do these things when your life was still part of this world. But now is the time to get rid of anger, rage, malicious behavior, slander, and dirty language. Don’t lie to each other, for you have stripped off your old sinful nature and all its wicked deeds. Put on your new nature, and be renewed as you learn to know your Creator and become like him. Since God chose you to be the holy people he loves, you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony. And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body you are called to live in peace. And always be thankful.”

-Colossians 3:5-17.

•Night 2

That night I was ready to go in and do battle with whatever I needed to do. During service I began singing and lifting my hands, and despite my efforts, this heaviness just hovered over me. I began getting so discouraged and sad and I had no idea why. It made me feel even worse because in my mind I kept telling myself, “Brittany, this is the last service, we leave tomorrow, don’t give up now.” The women hosting the conference formed a prayer tunnel and we all had to walk through it and tell them the miracle we needed that night because we were going to receive it. I didn’t know what to tell them because they told me I was healed Monday. I did NOT want to doubt but I kept feeling this nagging feeling like I wasn’t all the way there. I went through the tunnel and didn’t really feel anything, and told them I didn’t really know what I needed. So, terrified, I went through the tunnel again

 and I felt nothing. Out of all the great and amazing things I had felt all the other services I had gotten cold callous and numb again. And I began to get really angry, I think mostly at myself for not being able to feel what I felt like I should feel in Church, when I’m begging for it, to feel God and to be healed. I stood there the rest of the time, staring blankly at all the other women falling out in the floor and getting so many great things. I couldn’t help but wonder “why, I’m begging, why can’t I get through, what is blocking me from you God, why can’t I feel anything anymore. This is the last night and I don’t feel like I’m all the way there please don’t let this end tonight without something happening for me if that’s not selfish.” I went back and stood with our group in front of the chairs watching the rest of the ladies go through. I finally just sat down and put my head in my hands trying to look like I was praying, and not to appear ungrateful for the presence of God that was there, and the miracles He was doing for other people. I finally just began praying and begging and questioning like ,”Why am I feeling this way after all the great services, and everything else You’ve done this week.” Just absolute desperation, crying out to God. The speaker was still walking around praying for people and there were still plenty of ladies standing up in the front. I was sitting, praying in the front row. I had a feeling she was going to approach me for prayer and prayed that she would because I needed it, and I didn’t feel like I could move. All the sudden while my head was down praying, I felt a hand on me and heard her voice praying over me ( I hadn’t told her anything) and she starts praying “God break the anxiety and depression off of her.” Suddenly she then said, “I feel like God’s telling me you’re going through this so hard because you have a lot of unforgiveness, someone has hurt you deeply and you need to forgive.” Nothing specific immediately came to my mind. One past friend then came to mind, but we had recently gotten on good terms again so I kept racking my brain and coming up short. I began crying softly, so she asked if anyone came to mind, that she prayed God would tell me. No one came to mind, so I said, “no, there’s only one, and I thought I had already forgiven them.” She got quiet for a minute and began praying again and then began loudly praying in tongues and started yelling ‘OHH, OHH,” and then said, “It could be yourself you need to forgive.“ Before she ever even finished what she was saying it was like a literal dam had burst inside of me. I erupted into sobs and started shaking uncontrollably and she began praying more, and louder. She began saying that I needed to forgive myself and love myself,that I had hated myself and was being delivered from bonds of self hatred. I cried for what felt like hours. My dress was still stained with tears when we got back to the hotel. At that point in the service, I was the only one left. Everyone else was done and the speaker was there with me, bawling my eyes out. Ive struggled so much with feeling unwanted, and like I’m not enough for people and she made me feel so worthy that day as she stayed and prayed with me. All I could think of there with my head down, staining and soaking my dress with sobs was how much I have absolutely hated myself. And meant it. I’ve hated myself for a long, long time. I’ve hated myself for feeling chained to the floor and not feeling able to worship God like I need to and like He deserves. Ive hated myself for always letting the attacks on me win every time. I’ve hated myself for always being so mad and letting that control me with how I treat people even when I feel like I have no control over it. I hated myself for the selfish thoughts I’d been having, how I just wanted to die, when everything in my life was perfect. I hated myself for the things I wanted to do to myself when do many people loved me. I remembered sitting alone in the bathroom floor screaming at myself, “I just wanna die” “you deserve to die” ...she said those doors were closed that night.

So many little things happened over the course of this conference that made me feel worthy where I had not, and wanted where I’d felt unwanted. I felt like God had given me even these tiny precious details just to remind me that I am worthy and important. From the sweet little girl McKenzie at the hotel pool that wanted all my help and attention to the loving sisterhood of precious Peggy Jo and Margaret who I’ll always hold dear. 

During one service, God put one certain girl who I didn’t know, that was there with another church on my heart. 

As we were boarding the van to leave, another random woman that I didn’t know came approached me and said, “God wanted me to tell you sometimes you have to choose to be happy.” That phrase used to make me so angry and bitter because when you’re mentally ill it’s not always a choice. I wasn’t sure how to take it or feel about it in that moment but tried to humble myself and realize that choosing happiness shows your faith in God to bless you with happiness.

After that last night was over, Peggy Jo said, “You don’t even look like same person, you’re even more beautiful.” She said I wasn’t a chicken, duck, or turkey, that I was an eagle. (Pretty ironic that this upcoming conference theme is to Renew, on wings like Eagles.)

•The After:

Ive heard that not everything can “be a mountaintop experience”, but this was in every sense. Where I was so worried about going on that trip unmedicated, in the state I was in, I returned home feeling so light, and changed like that spirit of Heaviness was gone. Though the healing I received there wasn’t the same kind of miracle deliverance I got in high school, it was a different miracle. It was a healing that God showed me I had to work for. To put my hand in the plow and never look back. Work. To show God I’m serious in my pursuit of Him and what He wants for my life. 

Ever since I returned home my perspective has been changed. Even scrolling through social media, anytime I saw something that wasn’t positive I had no desire to continue reading.

I realized a lot of things about myself after I got back home. God showed me a lot of things. I had always said that I didn’t care what people thought of me, but realized that I’m obsessed with controlling what they think of me. I had this perfect little picture of the me I wanted everyone to think I was. I thought before that I was ok with anything God wanted to do in my life, but realized I wasn’t if it wasn’t what I wanted. I realized what the doctor and other people say about me and what Jesus knows of me, are such vastly different things. Doctors say I’m depressed and anxious, Jesus says I am whole. People make me feel worthless and unwanted but Jesus says I am loved and called for a divine purpose. Despite all these lies that have been said of me, Jesus says that He loves me, He created me, and He wants me. 

•The Now:

It’s August 11, 2021, now. It’s touched my heart to go back over and re-experience this life changing time as I read it, and I’m beyond excited to be there again in a couple of days. I just wish I could say that I put my hand in the plow and never looked back. All of 2019, the promise of Joy was imminent for me. At the time, I expected to receive it at the conference. At the time I doubted it, but looking back I know that I did. I held onto that promised healing I received for awhile after returning home, but eventually somewhere along the way I took my hand out of the plow and lost it. 

A whole lot has happened since then. It feels like a lifetime has passed. My husband and I got pregnant, covid hit, we gave birth to our sweet joy, Rhett, and so much more. Some days I don’t even feel like the same person that attended that conference just two short years ago. I held to that promise of Joy for a long

time thinking that it came with the birth of our son. I’m not saying that it didn’t, he brings more joy to our lives than we could ever explain. I felt better than I had felt mentally in years after he was born and was so glad that I dodged the dreaded bullet of postpartum depression. So somewhere along the way of becoming a new mom and the whole world turning upside down, I let go of that promise and took my hand out of the plow and looked back.

I’d be lying if I told you I haven’t been struggling. I’ve been fighting through the same wilderness as two years ago, almost exactly, yet so much different. It hit me and knocked all the breath out of me in the middle of April and I never saw it coming. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a darker place and honestly I don’t know if I will ever be able to talk about it. I’ve cried to God how could He possibly use this wilderness as a testimony. After almost two years of being off of antidepressants and being the happiest I have ever been, I had to go back on them. The day before our sons first birthday party, after a month of suffering in silence. Maybe late postpartum depression. My doctor agrees with postpartum PTSD. I’m not quite sure. What I do feel like I know, is that whatever this attack on my life is, is whatever is going to propel me into that calling I received two years ago. What I do know is that there is nothing in the world harder than going through it as a mother. What I know is that this is just a season, as hard as it may be. What I know, is that even in my hardest and absolutely darkest days, God is on the throne and He already has it worked out in my favor, for His glory. I’m in the same wilderness, just asking Him to meet me here again.

I’ve heard that the enemy always fights the hardest when he knows you’re about to do great work for the kingdom of God. That he doesn’t break into empty houses, so if you’re going through it, it’s for a great purpose. I remember specifically one Sunday morning church service in mid-July, there was an altar call. I was crying but I couldn’t move my feet off of the floor. It’s like I heard in my head, “of course God CAN use you, but why would He want to? What could He possibly want with you? Check all those unreturned messages, look at all the people who’ve checked up on you the past year, no one wants YOU.” As much as I knew it was a lie, it still felt so true. I’d be lying if I said this past year hasn’t been the loneliest and most isolated that I have ever felt in my life. But that’s just where the enemy wants you, right? Isolated. He’s had his way for the past couple years but like a sermon I listened to today, I feel a suddenly season coming and it’s not just for me. 

Peggy Jo gave me another word at the conference that wasn’t joy, and at the time it confused me, but it makes so much sense at this moment in my life. Peace. 

I’ve been chasing my Joy through this wilderness, but now, I’m coming for my peace. 🤍🤍🤍

Like I said, this post has been brewing for a couple years and I’ve been revising it for hours. There’s so much to go into it that I just can’t keep up. It’s all over the place, probably out of order, probably full of typos, and some of it may not even make sense. But if you got anything out of it whatsoever, I hope it’s this: God does incredible miracles. He heals. He delivers. My belief isn’t from growing up in Church. It isn’t from my parents. It isn’t because someone told me to. That’s why I wrote this blog. It’s because I’ve experienced Him in His fullness and all that He is, and I pray everyone else has a chance to do the same. 

This Face

This face.

I could stare at this face for hours 

In fact, some days, I do. 

When all he wants to do is nurse and be close to me and hold my hand tight, I let him. 

I think of the dishes on the counter, the laundry beginning to pile back up, the floor that needs another good vacuuming...

Many, if not all days, I long for him to let me get them done so I can just relax and spend time with him. But then many, no, all days, I realize that I am spending time with him now, while he needs it most, and how sweet it is.

As satisfying as it is to finish off a to-do list, have a sparkling kitchen, crisp vacuum lines on the floor, etc, how much more satisfying it is to cradle him with his hand grasping mine, and see him smile up at me. 

How sweet it is not only to be needed, but so wanted by someone that means the world to you. Little boys want their mommas. Little boys need their mommas. 

In a few short months, he’ll be crawling.

Then walking.

Then waving bye to me from the halls of kindergarten.

Going to junior high, then high school.

Leaving the driveway in his first car.

Going out to meet a girl.

Walking across the stage for a diploma.

Going off to college. 

Getting married.

Having his own sweet babies, that I hope he looks at the way I’m looking at him now.

But right now, he’s not going, or leaving, or waving bye. He’s laying in my lap, smiling up at me, saying, “Momma, leave the dishes, I need you now.” 

A day will soon come when his grasp on my hand isn’t as tight as it is now. And from there it will loosen and loosen until it’s time to send him out into the world to fulfill the mighty plans God has on his life. 

But tonight, I’m going to bed without the dishes done, or the laundry put away, and I’m going to hold his hand a little tighter, as long as I can. 

And tonight, instead of dreaming of what all hated chores I could accomplish instead, I’m going to cradle and cherish him and look down at 

This face. 

Covered By His Feathers

“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” -Psalm 91:4

Lately, the world seems to have become a very scary, unsure place. Even more so than before, with a new fear-striking tactic and thoughts of an unsure future at every corner. As a new parent to a precious baby, in the midst of all of this, I’m definitely unsure of what the future holds.

I’ve noticed recently that any time I have our son in my arms, especially when he’s trying to go to sleep, he wants to hold my hands. His sweet little hands will be frantically grasping around until he finds my hand, grasps it tightly with both of his hands, and peacefully drifts off to sleep. Whenever he’s upset, or just doing his normal daily activities, holding my hand always seems to bring him peace for whatever emotion he’s feeling. 

It’s no less than humbled me and brought me to tears each time, knowing that I am that absolute comfort for him. If that were the only reason I was put here on this Earth was to be that comfort for our sweet boy, it would be more than enough. 

How quickly I realized how similar we all are in this trying time, frantically grasping for some sort of comfort and peace. We’re all in new territory, looking for something familiar, just like my baby searching for mommy’s hand. As his precious hands search for mine and find comfort, so should we search for the Hand of God to be our comfort. 

In a rush to calm him, we may offer him many other things to fill his frantic hands and soothe his cries, but none bring the peace that our hands do. Much like all of us today, searching for comfort in news reports or social media posts or other people. All of these things may bring a temporary sense of relief, or maybe none at all. Maybe the opposite. So we’re still left searching for something that will bring us peace. His hand, much like mine for our son, is waiting to bring that peace. 

I find myself more and more often lately falling asleep in the middle of my prayers at night. And while I feel guilty for falling asleep in the middle of my talks with and cries to God, how comforting it is to fall asleep in the palm of His Hand, and under His Feathers. Much like how as soon as our son grasps our hands, he peacefully falls right to sleep. No matter what is going on around him. Whether the dogs are barking, the TV is loud, the dinner timer is going off, when He has that hand, he knows it’s all ok. 

No matter what new new broadcast, government mandate or bad news that may come up, as long as we are grasped onto God’s hand, we know that ultimately, we too will be ok. 

“As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you; and you shall be comforted in Jerusalem.”

-Isaiah 66:13

•A Promise Fulfilled•

Promises from God don’t always come in the neat little package we sometimes expect of them.

Sometimes they come in so much more.

It has been over a year ago that I remember hearing from God that He was going to send me joy.

I always expected to receive that promise in a tidy little neatly wrapped box labeled “Joy” where I would magically be healed of all my mental anguishes and life would carry on all happiness and sunshine in a way that it had not for a while. 

Being more realistic, I didn’t actually expect that level of problem-free perfection, just really that any of my pain would end and life would carry on again more like how it had before the darkness had set back in. 

What I didn’t expect in my neat and tidy little packaged way of thinking was all the true joy that would really be added to me.

 It wasn’t just a taking away of something unpleasant to make life seem better, but a true adding of more. More than I could have ever hoped for or expected. 

This Joy came hard and fast, screaming into the world and blew my life and expectations completely out of the water. All that I ever could have imagined this promise to be was put to shame when I first heard the sound of pure, true Joy. 

Though a child was a true answered prayer of mine, I still expected the promise of Joy I had received to do more with myself, mentally. Though I was told that God said this child would bring us abundant joy, I had no idea. 

Upon actually receiving what I now know is the true promise of Joy from God was a true life changing experience. 

As soon as I heard the sound of Rhett’s first cry, I lost it. It was like a great dam had burst and the tears started flowing uncontrollably. Looking back on that moment almost two months ago, I know that was the moment when Joy came to stay. 

All this time I had expected the promise to be more of a “taking away of the bad” than an “adding of the good.” 

Rhett hasn’t been able to take away the difficulty of everything that has gone on this year. He hasn’t been able to spare me the pain of childbirth and stop all of the bad things happening in the world. 

He hasn’t been able to take those things away. But just by him being added unto us, he’s made it all seem nonexistent. 

His existence is greater of an adding than I ever could have hoped for a taking away of. For the first time in so long, I can’t even recall how the darkness felt. Because though he couldn’t take the bad away, Rhett’s existence is such pure joy that I can’t see anything else. 

With each new cry, rising and falling of his chest, and wonder-filled expression upon taking in this new world around him, he brings me further from where I was and closer to where I have always wanted to be.

I’m always overcome with wonder at each new glance at him and all he has already added to our lives in almost two short months. How such a tiny little soul could already burn so bright and influence those around him so much. The Joy that just seems to overflow from him, that he now shares with us everyday. That he has given to me, promised from God.

It wasn’t at all the neat and tidy easy little promise I expected. It was a huge, messy whirlwind of a promise that has taken every fiber of my being and wrapped it around it’s tiny little fingers, completely in love. 

 Joy has truly been added unto me, completely changing my life. This Joy is the most absolutely worth it promise that I have ever received, and he will call me mommy. 

•Isaiah 66:9•

I lay here tonight anxiously awaiting the arrival of our sweet boy, knowing (and hoping) he could finally come at any moment. Finally gathering my months worth of jumbled thoughts into something I can hopefully craft into something more lovely than what they have been, and maybe help someone else who is right where I am tonight.

Right before we embarked on this adventure about nine months ago, I remember praying separately then agreeing together that if it were God’s timing for us to be blessed with a child, that it would come to pass. And if not, we would both be ok with that answer, too. I had just attended a Church conference where one of the speakers had spoken about giving birth to a miracle. The sermon was more on the topic of bringing forth a physical miracle into your life than actual childbirth, but both were spoken of all the same, and there were too many coincidences and things said relative to our situation to ignore. It was that sermon that got my husband and I in agreeance that if the time was right, it would happen. Not even three weeks later, we found out we were pregnant. It was something I had wanted for a long time and it was pure joy. It seemed like God’s perfect timing. 

The first half of our pregnancy (apart from the misery of what is the first trimester) was pure bliss. I was overjoyed that I was finally getting to experience what I had been jealous of so many others for for so long, and that we were finally getting our own little joy. Together, we got to experience so many firsts surrounding what we found out was our son. Every visit, one doctor or ultrasound tech or another would say how “perfect” Rhett is, that his growth was right on track, etc. etc. The whole pregnancy in general has been near perfect, very smooth and problem free and for that I am beyond grateful. 

Fast forward to the second half of our pregnancy, and the beginning of 2020. It started off slow, and for a bit, continued normally as all our pregnancy thus far had. Then, with the introduction of covid-19, things began changing faster and faster. And not in a way that was ok, especially for a seriously hormonal, emotional pregnant woman that had long awaited this moment in her life. Suddenly, all the new experiences that come with being first-time parents were being jerked away, one by one. All the classes I had us registered for, were cancelled. The hospital policy changed, not allowing anymore visitors than one for childbirth. That rules out all parents, siblings, family, friends, and everything in between to meet and celebrate our sweet boy the day of or after his arrival into the world. In the third trimester when they’re supposed to increase, doctors appointments (one of my big joys, getting to see and hear about Rhett) became fewer and more far between in an effort to deal with the virus and the other patients. Regular supplies that you would stock up on for a newborn (along with plenty of other basic human essentials) became scarce for a good while. We had to cancel not one, but three attempts at a baby shower that had been in the works since 2019, and on Pinterest boards of mine long since before that. If all that weren’t seemingly enough to hurt and leave us heartbroken, the Churches were then closed and hours at work became less until there were none, leaving me home most days, alone with my thoughts. Never in my life would I have imagined how taken for granted falling on your face at an altar would feel until it weren’t an option anymore. Before all this even started, I promised myself I would run to the altar and fall on my face before Rhett came and get what and where I needed to be. So when Church opens back up and you’re thinking the same and putting it off, don’t. I pray I do the same.

One thing I had noticed one day earlier in our pregnancy was on a sheet they sent home with me, containing mine and Rhett’s vitals at that visit. In the section that listed my information, right below where it said “allergies”, there was a section that said “problem list.” Below that were the words, “Recurrent Major depressive disorder, in full remission.” Upon first noticing that, and even now, I cry when I read it. When I first noticed it, I cried because they considered me fully healed of that the hell that is depression. At the same conference where giving birth to a miracle was mentioned, was also said I was healed of my anxiety and depression. Each new time after that I would see it on the paper, especially into 2020, I would cry thinking, “am I really, though?” I fully came off of all antidepressants for the first time in a while probably a month before we found out we were pregnant with Rhett, and I haven’t taken any the whole pregnancy. There were some days, more few and far between, that I felt like I couldn’t go on but I always chalked that up to pregnancy hormones. I never wanted our child to have to see the side of me that had to take a medication to stay functional, and often worried about myself before becoming a mother for that reason. Post-Partum depression was always a big concern of mine, when taking my mental health history into account. If there is one thing I can say I’m proud of myself for, is for not feeling like I need antidepressants throughout this whole regular, hormonal roller coaster ride that is pregnancy, but especially with the current state of things on top of it. (Don’t get me wrong at all, mental health drugs are a great and amazing thing that can help you through many times in your life, and I’m all for their use and benefits. I’ve been on and off them for about a decade now. But for me, their time in my life, at least extended use, is over.) 

I say none of that at all to say I haven’t struggled, and aren’t still struggling. You’ve all seen me struggle. My poor husband more than anyone has had wipe away more than his fair share of tears off of my face this year alone. After finally receiving our miracle, I have questioned so much and so hard as to why things had to go the way that they have. Why the joy of something I had long prayed and waited for been stolen at every turn, with each new rule. Why, all of the sudden, nothing was as we planned it, or how it was supposed to be. I suddenly found myself back in the old place I used to be before becoming pregnant: jealous of others. But this time, not for them being pregnant, but getting to experience and do all the things that any expecting, especially first-time, mother should. So many people mentioned alternatives to so many things and I appreciated the help, but at the same time, the Constant reminder that it was never going to be what we planned was often too much to bear.  In an effort to help, people kept telling me I would probably be too tired for visitors anyway, or that I could just FaceTime or have a virtual or drive through shower. And maybe they were right. But all I wanted was the experience we prepared for, surrounded by our loved ones, celebrating one of our greatest experiences. I’ve had people tell me I should do a newborn pandemic photo shoot, or that I would eventually look back on all of it and laugh. No. This is the last thing I want to look back and associate Rhett’s pregnancy with, even if it is the reality. I’ve heard the phrase “must be a terrible time to be pregnant,” more than I can count, and each new time, it still hurts more than you know. If anyone would have been able to tell me the shape the world would be in when we finally get to bring a child into it, I would have told them they were crazy. This is not the world I wanted to bring our miracle into. I’m not going to say for a second that I’ve been ok with it. I’m not going to pretend. I’ve been hurt. I’ve been shattered. And I’ve been heartbroken. For my husband, Rhett and myself. I’ve sat and cried many days and just asked God why. And I don’t yet have that answer. I might never have that answer. I feel like people may see me as ungrateful but even for my loved ones that are where I was, praying for a child, I would not wish it for them in this situation. I’d rather them get to experience the fullness of it, after waiting so long. Because while it’s obviously still worth it, it’s been a painful journey. Even in the midst of all these feelings and troubles there was a time a month or so ago, not even over the span of a whole week, it was like God was giving us or me three small miracles. Almost even like the verse Hebrews 13:2, “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” Like God saw me hurting and sent me these reminders. I definitely needed them. I still struggle sometimes daily wondering why this all had to happen now, but each and every time, I’m reminded and brought back to our prayer: “God, only if it is your timing for us to have a child, bless us with a child.” 

Despite everything going on, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Rhett will grace this world with his beautiful little soul at exactly the time he’s supposed to, such a time as this. (Esther 4:14) All I can think is that it’s definitely not my timing, but it is still God’s. I definitely don’t understand, and am still hurting, but I trust God even though it hurts, and I believe He understands my pain. I don’t understand, but He does. And I can only imagine that it must mean greater things are in store than we ever even imagined or prepared for. I may never know why. But what I do know is that he is still our boy. Without the plan we both expected. Without the classes we registered for, he will still be our boy, and we will still raise him right. With or without a baby shower, he will still be celebrated and we will have all we need. With or without hospital visitors, he is still our boy and we will still know we’re all loved. Without the first time parenting experience we might have hoped and planned for, he is still our boy. Our first boy. It’s not at all how I wanted it. I may not see it now or for a long time, or maybe ever, but maybe it’s how I needed it. I had this perfect picture in my head of how it was all supposed to go. But don’t we always? We have our whole lives mapped out according to how we want them to go, but God says, “The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” -Proverbs 16:9. Out of nowhere, walking outside the other day,  the song “Worth It All” by Rita Springer came to my mind and stuck there. It hadn’t been a good week by any means, literally everything had seemed to go wrong, but through all the hurt, the worthiness of the whole process is something I never once doubted. The song goes, 

“I don't understand Your ways

Oh but I will give You my song

Give You all of my praise

You hold on to all my pain

With it You are pulling me closer

And pulling me into Your ways

Now around every corner

And up every mountain

I'm not looking for crowns

Or the water from fountains

I'm desperate in seeking, frantic believing

That the sight of Your face

Is all that I need

I will say to You

It's gonna be worth it

It's gonna be worth it

It's gonna be worth it all

I believe this

It's gonna be worth it

It's gonna be worth it

It's gonna be worth it all

I believe this.”

We haven’t yet been blessed with meeting him, but I can’t even imagine just how much more than worth it this little boy will be. As if God has used them to speak straight to me, I’ve had not one but two people tell me of prophetic type dreams they have had about our son. But not after finding out we were pregnant. One months, and one years beforehand. Both saying things such as “he will bring great joy, and do great things and be so kind and help many people.” Ever since we found out about him, the word Joy comes up surrounding his name from people everywhere. God promised me Joy in 2019, the year he was conceived.

Though we’re so incredibly blessed beyond measure, I had felt very robbed throughout this whole ordeal. I keep getting reminded of the verse in John 10,

“The thief comes to steal, kill and destroy..” I’ve felt that so heavily the past few months. He had come and stolen my joy, killed our plans and destroyed seemingly any and everything he could. But thankfully, the verse doesn’t end like that. It continues to say, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” I can’t even begin to imagine the fullness of life we will feel in the next moments, hours, days or weeks when Rhett makes his way into this world. I can’t begin to imagine the fullness his life itself will hold, and continue to grow with, with all the glorious plans God already has for him. I can’t begin to imagine how all the troubles of this year will I’m sure fade away as soon as we see his face. I can’t begin to imagine that as much as he will need us for survival alone, we will need him so much more. 

Things did not go as planned. Things did not go as planned when I was in high school and first diagnosed with major depression and anxiety. But out of the dark of that situation, came first time salvation and a relationship with Christ. We as humans, when we make plans, we often just plan for the best. But my, how much more beautiful our lives turn out when we go through the painful things that we didn’t plan for. Even if not, He is still good. And like I said before, we often don’t see the reason why in the moment, and maybe not for a long time afterward. But there is always a reason. I still don’t know the reason for this, but I can already see the good soon to come out from beneath all of it. His name is Rhett, and he’s going to do great and amazing things. 

“In the same way, I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born.”

-Isaiah 66:9