{God's} Love & Basketball

You wouldn't know it by looking at her, but this girl was drowning in chaos. My middle school years were marked with trauma that left me spiraling into drugs, alcohol, an eating disorder, and behavioral issues at school from the young age of 11.  I came from a stable, two parent home where I was loved unconditionally and they were often left with more questions then answers as to why I had changed so drastically.

My saving grace during these years was basketball. It came naturally to me (thanks for the good genes Dad) and I could escape the chaos during practices and games. It gave me a community of girls who had good, innocent fun without all the drama. It allowed me to be a kid during a time when in other areas of my life I had to grow up quickly. It gave me coaches who would encourage me and speak life into me. In fact, one of my coaches even became my Sunday School teacher who had a huge role in me finding Jesus. And last but not least, it was pure fun!

That's me in the back row holding the fake cardinal. I've always been unique, guys. 

Fast forward about 15 to 20 years and here I am still shooting hoops when I can.

As a 30 year old, I have the benefit of looking back and realizing that God gave me basketball. It sounds ridiculous, I know. But in those years where God was the last thing on my mind, He was still chasing me. God knew what had happened to me because He was there. (That fact has been one of deep questioning and deep comfort for me.) God knew I would need something to fill me back up, something to give my hurting soul a break, and something to heal through.

I don't know where you are at in your life.

+ Maybe you're a parent of a child who is struggling and you're not sure where it's coming from. Please hear me, God's got them. He's chasing them even in the most subtle ways. Trust Him.

+ Maybe you're a young adult who is questioning where God was during a dark time in your life. Please hear me, God's had you. You must look back over even the smallest details and see He was there providing for you in ways you didn't even realize.

+ Maybe you're a preteen (or adult, let's be real) caught in a mess that you never saw coming. Please hear me, God has not deserted you. He sees your pain. He is big enough to handle your anger and sadness. He's carrying you through this, even if you're being carried like a screaming, kicking toddler.

I want to take a moment and just thank my parents. My dad calls me his "wild child" which I certainly earned and am glad we can laugh about it now but it also came with a lot of stress for both him and my mother. Thank you both for loving me, cheering me on at all my basketball games, praying for me constantly, and for always sticking by my side even when I was awful to be around.

Mommy, why didn't I grow in your belly?

It was a rough day. There was bickering between my boys almost constantly. Breaking up fights was becoming all too common and I was at my wits end. It was probably the 50th time of asking J to stop pestering G which earned him a spot on the steps. I felt tears welling up and asking myself, "Is their relationship always going to be like this?" 

After a few minutes, I sat next to J on the steps and asked him the typical why did he think he was in time-out. He looked down and shrugged his shoulders. I knew something deeper had to be going on. Sibling rivalry is normal to an extent, but this was extreme. It's been so extreme that I've consulted professionals about it and one mentioned that J could be experiencing some jealousy that he didn't grow in my belly like G did. Wait, what? No. I mean, J should know that I love him no differently. He sees that, right? But in this moment on the steps, I decided to attempt to put words to the feelings he might be having. As he sat there, I asked him, "Hey buddy, do you some times feel sad or mad that G grew in my belly?" 

Tears came from his eyes immediately. He melted as if I hit the nail on the head to something he didn't know how to express himself. I brought him in close to me and we cried together. After a few moments, he said, "Mommy, why didn't I grow in your belly?" My response straight up came from God because I'm not great with words on the fly.

"J, if you grew in my belly you wouldn't be you. You wouldn't be so good at drawing. You wouldn't be able to run as fast as you do and be able to do all those flips. You wouldn't be blessed with that handsome tan skin and those beautiful brown eyes. You wouldn't have that big, bold smile. If you grew in my belly, you wouldn't be who God intended you to be. And I love who God created you to be." 

That conversation happened about a year ago and I'd like to say that all had been wonderful after that between the boys, but it was still a journey. What was important, though, was that J had the words to express what he was feeling. He was now able to begin to process where that anger and jealousy was truly coming from. There have been times since when J would draw a picture and say, "If I grew in your belly, Mom, I wouldn't be so good at this drawing stuff. Right?" He was seeing for himself that God gave him these gifts and that was only possible by growing in Mama E's belly. It's been so empowering for him! 

And then this summer happened. The summer of 2019 has been one of deep friendship building for J and G. They still bicker and there are still fights to break up but it is no where near what it used to be. Instead, I've found myself often staring at the boys playing and been in awe of what God is doing. J's healing journey has spilled over into seeing his brother differently. He's no longer threatened by G's existence because he's more secure in himself and his story. You guys, the boys even requested to sleep in G's bed together the other night. Tim and I snuck upstairs before we headed to bed to see if they were still together and we stared with misty eyes at this:

This is a picture of pure hope.

Hope that J can overcome this mountain of insecurity in his life.
Hope that my little boys who will grow into men can have a long lasting friendship.
Hope that God still sees and cares about the details of our lives.

+ If you are interested in learning more about adoption and the services we provide at Christian Adoption Consultants, I would love to chat! Feel free to email me at meg@christianadoptionconsultant.com. +

Lost Friendship & Lessons Learned

Our friendship began when we were nearly 11 years old. It was magnetic. She got me and I got her at a time in our lives when we were beginning to mature into the women we'd become. I trusted her enough to be vulnerable with my feelings and she was one of the rare people who saw me cry. Our friendship continued through high school and we decided to be roommates at college. It made sense, cause we already spent most of our time together.

We continued to room together through college and during our senior year, my then boyfriend asked me to marry him. I said yes. It was so exciting but much to my surprise, something shifted with our friendship. I didn't understand it then and instead got defensive. Why isn't she happy for me? Why is she ignoring me? Why does she seem angry and distant?

But I didn't say anything and I should have. We carried on semi-normally, and I asked her to be my maid of honor. She agreed with tears in her eyes and I felt like maybe we were back on track. Once I was married, the distance between my friend and I only continued to grow. There was an afternoon, after being married for not even a year, that she called me. With tears in her voice, she asked if she could move in with us. Not forever, of course, but for some time until she found a new roommate situation. Tim and I were living in a one bedroom apartment so logistically it didn't make sense to let someone sleep on our couch while we were still figuring out a new marriage. After some thought, I told her that we couldn't let her move it. Honestly, it's still one of my biggest regrets. When she needed me, I shut her out. Our friendship was already breaking and I shattered it beyond repair.

This loss felt incredibly heavy (and still does). My "friendship-esteem" was bruised. I went into friendship very timid and with lots of walls up for the next three years after. My friendships that I did form were surface. And then...

I gave birth to our second son and survived a hemorrhage that nearly took my life. That event was followed by PPD and I found myself feeling utterly alone. I wasn't, of course - I had my family. But I needed people who were actually living it along with me. This is when I decided to try a group called MOPS for the first time. I went reluctantly and desperately. I was reluctant to be in a room full of women, yet I was desperate for someone to tell me I wasn't alone in this journey. These women amazed me! They encouraged one another, they were vulnerable, they met the needs of each other, and they were friends. When I finally admitted my struggle, I had countless women lift me up in prayer, with coffee, and with stories of their own similar stories.

I've learned a lot in the past three years that I've been apart of MOPS. I'm continuing to learn what healthy friendship looks like through witnessing and learning from these incredible women. As cliche as it sounds, you have to be a friend to have a friend. They've shown me how to be a friend by being my friend, even when I had walls up.

Life doesn't have to be lived alone and with friendships that are only surface. In fact, it shouldn't be. As weird as it might feel at first, you have to open up. You have to go out of your way for people. Once you open up, they will open up and when they open up, you need to follow up. That's what we all want, right? Someone who can ask about the details of our lives and where we can feel safe to be make-up free, brutally honest, and have no fear of judgement. If we want that, we have to give that. It's seems so simple, but it will take effort. It certainly does for me. Look, I literally have to make reminders on my phone to ask certain friends about certain things that are happening in their lives right now.

There may be a lot of reasons to say no, but I've learned the hard way that I want to be the friend that says yes. I know that making a meal for another mama isn't convenient. I understand that telling another woman that you feel like a failure as a mom when everyone else seems to have it altogether isn't easy. It can feel overwhelming to open up your imperfect home (it's still such a struggle for me) and let others see that your kiddos aren't always pleasant little human beings. But I'm telling you from experience, if you don't, your friendships will disappear or at least become completely surface level.

Let's get out there and encourage each other as women through deep friendship!