The Belle Tower

I come to the blog today to write about a friend of mine. Let's call her "Belle Tower," because that is the moniker she has chosen for herself, the name under which she blogs, and I think it fits her.  She is a tower of strength, ringing out with a message that graces the ears of all who hear it. She has brought so much grace to my life, just by being herself, walking her journey authentically and transparently, and demonstrating a heavy dose of the beauty of obedience, made even more breathtaking as it has emerged from what could have been an unlikely place, if not for the grace of God and a soul strong enough to embrace it.

I met Ms. Tower in a private mommies group on Facebook sometime early in Cam's first year. He was probably about 2-3 months old before I really got active, and when I did she was already there.  Her daughter, dubbed "Fifi," is not quite a year older than Mister Cameron.  Belle is loud, opinionated, and does and says nothing halfway. At first, she scared me- not that I thought she was a scary person, but I didn't see any way she could possibly agree with everything I had to say and I was ree-hee-HEALLY scared of coming up on the bad end of what she had to say because, bless my tender heart, I was quite certain I couldn't take it. I was also quite convinced on several occasions that I had offended her deeply and was not on her list of favorites.  Can't specifically remember any incidents or time frames, but I remember feeling that way and I find it humbling and staggering that we have ended up such kindred spirits.

I never disliked or thought poorly of Belle. I always admired and appreciated her.  She  made me shake my head, but it was never in disapproval, more in wonder.  I WANTED to be her friend, but it appeared we were cut from different cloth.  And we are.  We really are, but our cloth has been sewn together now.

One thing that became abundantly clear early on was that Belle was anti-religion, and if you knew what to look for, it easy to guess that she had been hurt in the church.  I don't remember at what point she actually said that that was what had happened, but she did.   When you picture the stereotypical experience of the girl growing up in the Southern Baptist family, "Be a good girl,"  "Well, that's just what we believe,"  "We don't associate with their kind," etc., that's what Belle grew up with and, Belle being Belle, that didn't quite work for her. She has a heart the size of the ENTIRE Confederacy and then some, a stubborn streak as wide as the Mississippi Delta, a mind sharper than the stinger on a hornet, and the message she was hearing about how one managed to be a "good Christian" did not fit her. So, she did what anyone with a heart like hers would do in those circumstances, she rejected it. And I don't blame her.  If I hadn't had parents who encouraged and welcomed my questions, I'd've probably sloughed it off as well.

But there was a need in Belle. And that's how it started.  I don't remember what she said, what she or others posted or what the responses were, maybe she does, but a dialogue began. She started asking questions, posing arguments (not for the sake of arguing, but she actually wanted to hear the responses), and somehow, God put just the right voices in our community to respond to her and gave her just the right ear to sort through them all to find His voice.  The daughter of an Episcopal priest (Episcopalians being held in the highest regard as intellectual, THINKING Christians by yours truly), two preachers' daughters possessed of deep faith and grace and a passion for His love, a deeply-believing Christian whose closest friends have historically been non-believers and so has a passion for the disenfranchised heart (that would be me), and a dozen other Christ-loving women and mothers with kind, KIND, gentle hearts and a desire to share of His love.

Eventually, Belle confessed to us that there was more to her story. She had been abused in the church as a small child, by someone important in her church.  The ultimate betrayal, perpetrated under the banner of God.  It makes me so angry to even type it.  Can you even imagine? Looking back now, seeing what Belle has become, it is plain as day to me that that event was spiritual warfare.  The enemy attacked, wanting to silence this amazing voice before it had a chance to develop. But God is bigger than that, and the enemy way, WAY underestimated the woman that little girl would become.

In the weeks and months that followed our discussions, a warrior emerged in Belle.  She had always been a fighter, but she became a warrior, battling for her own soul and her own truth.  She actively rejected what the voices in the world had told her that she had to be in order to be worthy of God's love and accepted the truth she heard spoken to her.  She felt God's call on her heart and she answered with a vengeance.  She began to find her voice and it became even louder, not gentled or chastened, yet tinged with a deep, deep love and grace.  She was reclaiming what had been taken from her with determination a fierceness that could only come from the soul of Belle Tower. She began to speak of Jesus as hers, as everyone's, and to reject the versions of Jesus that were not Truth to her.  I wish I had taken notes on the progression of things because my breath was taken away repeatedly. The next thing I knew, Belle posted this entry to her blog:

http://fifiandcrazycakes.blogspot.com/2013/12/update.html

I had no words, but lots of tears as my newly-pregnant self sat on the couch at my parents' house at Christmas and read that.  My mom and my aunt and our priest, Janet, were there and so I sent the link to all of them.  My aunt replied

 

"Read Belle's blog.  She truly has a gift, if not a calling.  Anne Lamott says some of us have "cavernous vibrations inside us" when we speak to God. Belle has them when she speaks OF God.  And I love it"

 

How spot-on is that?  I was so humbled by the obedience, the courage...and just hearing God's voice that loudly...Lord, help me if You ever speak that directly, clearly, and deafeningly to me.  Help me not to crumble, because I think I might.

 

I have also watched as Belle has let God soften her.  She's a fireball and she knows it and I have watched as God has asked her to reach out to people who have gotten her fired up and have watched her treat them with respect and love, no matter how mad they still might make her.  I can't say I'm entirely pleased about this, Belle was the yin to my yang and her ability to speak with fire and shoot from the hip with exactly what was on my mind is the reason I've been able to take the so-called "high road" on more than one occasion. Belle said what I WANTED to say, which freed me up to say what I knew I should say.

 

Belle Tower is now unleashed, y'all.  I am reminded of Jesus clearing the temple in Matthew chapter 21, overturning the tables of the moneychangers and reclaiming what once was sacred and making it holy again. And this wasn't a flash in the pan either.  This is not the person who went on a spiritual retreat, came back on fire with the Holy Spirit and then let it fade. Belle is on this journey with all of the stubborn, fierce, Southern fire that God put in her.  She has experienced heartbreak in the meantime as someone whose voice and example were critical to her as this revival occurred turned out to represent everything about "religiousness" she had chosen to reject. And yet she still clung to God, knowing that this one person's take on what it meant to be a Christian did not alter His truth.

 

I consider it one of the great privileges of my life to watch Belle be Belle.   I see God's hand on her all over the place and it is one of the most goshdarned beautiful things I have ever seen. So deeply inspiring. Everything she writes these days stirs me to action. What action I am not sure yet. I have a journey of discernment of my own to take, I have been aware of that for quite some time. But I am inspired to live into God's truth in a new way, and to listen with new ears to that truth.  I feel so blessed to be connected with Belle, it is one of the countless miracles which have emerged from this community we are a part of.

 

I don't feel like I've even begun to do Belle justice here.  I will probably go back and edit this a million times over, adding little details as I think of them- oh, for example! She has such a passion for justice that has been sharpened and focused by her journey of faith. That's another thing.  I could go on and on and on here, but I'm on borrowed time and Mister Snottypants is stirring. He's been so sick, bless his heart. This two-hour nap is the first in days.

 

Thanks for listening.

Where Feet May Fail...Baby #2!

"You call me out upon the waters, the great unknown, where feet may fail..."
-"Oceans (Where Feet May Fail),"  Hillsong United

A lot has happened here since I last blogged. Not "a lot" as in many things, "a lot" as in one big thing.  One big thing that I'm not sure I'm big enough for, but God is. :-)

On November 6th, Jeff and I found out that we are expecting another baby.  Let me begin by saying that there is no "but" coming.  We are 23 weeks along and so far, we have  a totally healthy little one here, the "big thing" about this has nothing to with scary test results and grim prognoses, this is all about my own heart. 

This was ahead of schedule and we actually hadn't even officially made the decision yet that we wanted to be a two-kid family, so my heart was not ready for this news. Having grown up as an only child, the decision to have a second child was huge for me. Both my mom and her sister, my aunt with whom I am very close, chose to only have one child. Getting pregnant, being pregnant, and giving birth has come very easily to all of us (CLEARLY, ha!) and all of our families could have easily supported another child, but my mom and aunt realized it was not in their hearts to have more kids and I was feeling much the same.  Those of us descended from my Neeno throw all that we've got into loving others.  We've all quit our jobs and put our adult lives and careers on hold to raise our kids because we knew our hearts couldn't handle taking time away from our little ones, and that same condition of heart is what motivates the one-child choice. While love multiplies with the births of additional children, time and focus do not. CLEARLY having more than one child, sometimes SEVERAL children, is a valid and wonderful choice because MOST people do it.  I'm not questioning or challenging the validity of that, I'm just saying that that does not appear to be how the women in my family are wired.  My mom and my aunt decided that they were not wired to have more than one child, and I was feeling the same way.  Still am, as it turns out, because I never ACTUALLY made up my mind that I was ready for it.

Unlike with Cam, I did not want to see the word "PREGNANT" on that danged stick.  It wasn't ready for it. I prayed and prayed that the faint line I had seen on the test earlier was a blue dye error.  "Blue dye is notorious for false positives," my friend Shawna told me, and to that I clung. So, I optimistically bought a multi-pack of the digital tests from Wal-Mart, the ones that say "PREGNANT" or "NOT PREGNANT," thinking that when this test was negative, I could use the others in the future. Nope.  Pregnant first try.  I passed on the four remaining tests to a close friend of mine.

I had thought about what I would do if that were the result, and I had assumed I would collapse into sobs of panic.  I assumed I would be devastated by this cataclysmic shit of mind and heart being thrust onto me- plus, I was unexpectedly pregnant. That just does NOT happen when you're me, we plan these things, take all precautions, such things are for other people. Not proper, not proper at all! :-)

But in the minutes, seconds even, that followed the result, a peace came over my heart.  I FELT myself in God's hand as He gently whispered to my heart, "I took this burden from you, my love.  The choice was made for you and I have given you the gift of full confidence that this is not of you, but of Me. Whatever happens, this is MY doing.  I have given you the gift of full assuredness that this is My will for you, for Cam, for Jeff, for your family, and for this child.  I didn't ask you to listen and discern, I'm not asking you to trust, I'm handing this to you."   I felt so loved, because I knew that it was true. I knew that whichever way I decided, if I had made the decision  I always would have questioned it.  I had anticipated it would be a journey of discerning God's will and then living in the trust that I had done well, but He never even asked it of me!  He relieved me of that work, that burden.  His grace astounds me, it's always so perfect, so complete, so tailored to ME, and it's always a better solution than I ever could have thought of or prayed for.

It didn't just end there in an explosion of sunshine and rainbows from heaven.  Shortly thereafter, I started to feel awful and from that stemmed a struggle with attitude and emotions. So nauseous, so tired...much more so than with Cam.  I had my thyroid checked IMMEDIATELY after finding out I was pregnant and my dosage of Synthroid was upped...and then six weeks later upped again...and then again six weeks later...so as it turns out, I wasn't just first trimester sick, my thyroid had dipped REALLY low as well, which is common in early pregnancy for those with low-functioning thyroids. We limped through the holidays, Jeff dragging Cam and me along with him through brute strength of love and sheer willpower.  I've never been so compromised in my ability to do my "job" and Jeff handled it with such grace and strength. I was miserable, my holidays were miserable and I began to feel bitter.  I was resentful that here came another reason for me to put my needs on hold, ruining my life already, and I didn't even WANT a big family.   And boy, did that make me feel even worse. I'm part of a very tight-knit online Mommies' community and many of my sisters in that group are struggling to get pregnant with their second, struggled to get pregnant with their first, lost deeply-wanted babies to miscarriage or still-birth, or have had to accept for medical reasons that they can't have another baby no matter how badly they want one- and here was me, feeling bitter and resentful because I had gotten pregnant without even trying.  And yet there, I was having these feelings.

The new year and the first signs of spring have started to bring relief. First of all, I'm feeling WAY better, and despite a tidbit of lingering nausea and some extra fatigue, I'm feeling like me and can enjoy my life despite being pregnant.  We've been able to make improvements around the house, which has also improved my quality of life.

And also, we had our 20 week anatomy scan and everything looked normal and healthy and...

Our baby is a girl.

That fact alone is just so totally perfect on so many levels. I would have been thrilled to give Cam a brother, Jeff just adores his two younger brothers and I would have loved for Cam to have that experience. But this is more perfect than that.  When we found out that Cam was a boy, it was somehow the most perfect thing in the world, and this feels EXACTLY like that. It fits, it's right,  she's our girl. 

So now both Jeff and I are in uncharted waters.  I grew up an only child, so I have no schema for raising two kids.  Jeff grew up in a family of boys, so he has no schema for raising girls.  I still have a knot in my stomach as I think about those early days of being so focused on her, her taking up so much of my time and me not getting my fill of Cam and him not getting his fill of me- it nags at me.

But the other morning in church, God spoke to me again.  I was onstage in church, singing with the worship team, getting ready to sing the above-mentioned song, "Oceans," by Hillsong, and it hit me like a ton of bricks that THAT song for me is about having a second baby.

http://youtu.be/-8mZpGj29qw

"You call me out upon the waters, the great unknown, where feet may fail."

I've been called to something where my own feet may fail me.  I'm like Peter, standing in the boat in Matthew 14:29, with Jesus asking me to follow him out onto the water and I have no idea how this is supposed to work.  Peter takes his steps, begins to walk, and then as the storm rages around him, he gets distracted and sinks.  This could SO be me.  When baby girl is crying and needs me, Cam is feeling the stress of the change and needs me, my post-partum hormones are raging, I can see myself sinking. 

"And I will call upon your name, and keep my eyes above the waves..."

I need to be committed to NOT doing what Peter did. I need to keep my eyes focused on Jesus and remember that "Your grace abounds in deepest waters,"  God's grace shines the brightest when our challenges are greatest, the bigger the challenge the more grace can be found- both because He gives according to our need AND because we are most attuned to looking for it when we need it most.  I need to remember that, "You've never failed, and you won't start now."

"So I will call upon your name, and keep my eyes above the waves.  When oceans rise, my soul will rest in your embrace, for I am yours and you are mine."

...and of course I am LEADING this song, in front of the whole church, me singing this BY MYSELF two seconds after this realization hits me.  I held it together, but I rushed the tempo and my voice broke twice.  If you knew what to look for, you totally could have seen it.

And that is where we are now.  We haven't picked out a name yet.  Her  middle name will be Audrey after my Neeno, but the first name is still not locked. But she is loved, she has a leg on her and kicks so hard her Daddy can feel it from the outside already!  Cam loves his "Sissoh" already, he knew it was a girl before we did. 

We are ready for this as a family.   Stay tuned.