There are no guarantees

 

For almost 30 years, circa 2004, I lived with an expectant heart.

IF

If I followed the rules, if I was good, if I worked hard, if I trained hard, if I was nice, if I was thin, if I wore the right clothes.

If, Then.

The life of a perfectionist involves a lot of if, then scenarios.

If, then, expectation usually guarantees a person one thing:

Disappointment.

Expectations of yourself and others can lead down a road of anger, hurt, fear, and loneliness.

For almost 30 years I felt powerless to stop this roller coaster of unrealistic outcomes.

For almost 30 years tiny mustard seeds were being planted in my mind and heart.  

There was not an AHA! moment where I thought I GET IT!  No, there was effort.

When you set out with an expectant mind and heart in search of God you will be disappointed. 

If I followed the rules, then I should be rewarded. 

If I was nice, then I should have lots of friends.

If I studied hard, then I should get an A.

If I was thin, had the best hair, and the best clothes, then I would be happy.

The laundry list of 'IF's'  is infinite.  

I am not sure how or when I began to see the mustard seeds in my life and to feel the guiding hand of God. 

I am certain though that the alone and quiet time that running has afforded me, has been where and when I began to hear Him.

Hearing God takes effort.  Effort in the sense of quieting ourselves, opening our hearts and minds, and analyzing our behaviors.

 October 30, 2011 was the moment where I realized this truth.

There are no guarantees in this life.  We can work hard and still fail, we can love hard and still lose, we can do it all and not be happy.

October 30, 2011 was my third attempt at mastering the Marine Corps Marathon. 

http://brylfamily5.blogspot.com/2011/11/414.html

I ran in Honor of the Fallen, specifically Travis Manion and Brendan Looney.  I had pledged to Honor them by Challenging myself.  

I also pledged that this marathon would be different from my first two attempts.  This time I learned that I had to fuel myself for the race.  Fuel my body, my mind, and my spirit.  I used sports chews to fuel my body but it was the Holy Spirit that fueled my success.

Race day brought a bombardment of images of courage.  Marines taking turns carrying each other, physically carrying each other, over the course of 26.2 miles.  The word of God clothed my fellow runners with scripture verses on their backs.

The truth of my life was ever present and became my mantra for the race.

Whether the road is long or short, I can do all things through Christ who Strengthens me.

I still have expectations, goals, and dreams.  They are lofty. 

Living with a giving, grateful, and servant's heart instead of an expectant heart allows me to surpass my goals and dreams and creates new dreams and goals.

I am not perfect, I am not a superlative.  I am God's child.

Linking up with Ellen Stumbo's writing prompt:
http://www.ellenstumbo.com/a-truth-i-live-by/

Different than expected

Different than Expected

This is the second post in a writing prompt series by Ellen Stumbo
http://www.ellenstumbo.com/writing-prompt/



When we got married we knew we wanted to have kids, not necessarily RIGHT away, but we certainly were not preventing it.  We thought that it might take a while and that was okay.  When we found out we were pregnant, less than three months after we were wed, we were excited.

We did not want to know if the baby was a girl or a boy and were happy talking about both boy and girl names. We did not have great expectations, we were content to be pregnant and enjoying the journey.

We agreed that we would decide whether or not I would go back to work when the baby was here.  We both subconsciously knew that I would not got back to work, but hey we are pretty much never say never people.

I did not expect to become so SWOLLEN with my pregnancy.  Having been an avid runner I thought I would continue to run throughout pregnancy.  This did not materialize.  Weight gain, edema, back pain coupled with the desire to eat whatever I wanted did not lend themselves to a fit pregnancy.

Many women complain of cankles late in pregnancy, I had tree trunks for legs by the middle of the 8th month.  I was never diagnosed with pre-eclampsia but had I gone to term I probably would have been.

16 days before our due date I went into labor.  Labored at home over night, went to the hospital got sent home, went back in the early morning, was admitted, got an epidural, was getting comfortable with my mom in the room, Jerry had just left to go get some coffee and breakfast...

Whoosh, POP POP! went the monitor.  Simultaneously, the bed sheets were soaked.  My water had broken and my mom and I were kind of laughing about it when the monitors started beeping.  4 or 5 nurses came into the room at once, turning me from side to side, not really talking to me but to each other.  I could see the seriousness on their faces.  One of the nurses asked my mom where the father was and my mom went to go get him.  I began to understand the medical lingo and that they could not find my baby's heartbeat.  The doctor came in for an internal exam and said they would need to take the baby via c-section.  

We learned about c-sections in our birthing class and like most women I was hoping against that option.  

Flashback....

As we readied ourselves for our second trip to the hospital that September night, I grabbed the bag in the hallway by the front door as another contraction gripped my insides and randomly said "We are going to have a c-section".  There was not discussion or further explanation.  Just a statement.

Back to the birth...

As we prepped for surgery, my mom said a prayer for our baby and we were whisked away to the OR.  My whole body convulsed with shakes and my teeth were chattering, my arms were strapped to the table making my body into a cross.  The anesthesiologist became our guide.  Telling us what was taking place behind the white sheet.  As the Ob tested my numbness, she warned me to stop trying to move my legs.  Within 10 minutes our baby was free from the womb.  It's a girl!  Jerry took one look at her and said "She's Erin!"  Wrapped in warm white blankets and stocking cap I saw her blueberry eyes for the first time.  She was nothing I had expected.  She was so much more.

As fast as they brought her too me they took her away.  I still had some business to take care of, a few organs and tissues to be situated and put back in order.  Jerry left to be with Erin so I was alone in that operating room with my new BFF, the anesthesiologist.  I was no longer cold and could feel the weight of the blankets on my chest and the warmth of the morphine in my veins.

The birth of my first child.

Erin Kelly Bryl

6 1bs 6 oz, 19 inches, 12 noon, September 7, 2005.

It was not how I expected but once I held her in the recovery room, she was everything I never knew I wanted.

Just for a day...

Rainbows, Unicorns, Fairy Dust, Tea Parties

These are not words one would associate with me.

Serious, driven, passionate, brooding.

Those might be a better fit. I am not one for labels preferring instead to see myself as ever changing and evolving. At one time I might have changed this about myself, just for a day.  I even spent an almost three year period trying to change this about myself. It damn near killed me.

I don't like looking back on that period but looking back has propelled me forward to a place I can accept and embrace.  I live with a heavy heart.  I feel almost constantly. For many years I did not know what to do with these feelings, the pain, the joy of my own and other people.  For as long as I can remember I have put myself in other people's shoes if only for an instant.  Long enough to feel.  It has made me angry, disappointed, hurt, scared, desperate, raging, blinded, and overjoyed.  

Hard, harder, hardened.  I tried to be strong against these feelings, to push them away, to hide from them, to run away, to ignore.  I've medicated against them. None of which created the rainbow, unicorn, fairy dust, tea party atmosphere I thought could exist for me.

I have often viewed this trait of mine as a weakness.  Why can't I just be like everyone else? Why can't I just be happy? Why can't I find things funny? Why can't I just relax?

Just for a day?

I've literally tried to run myself into the place of Unicorns and Fairies and Rainbows and Tea Parties.

I kept running and running and seeing glimpses and willing them to appear.  Only to be exhausted.

Slowly over time I began to find God on my path.  Maybe He could help me find the Unicorns, only to discover that even Noah could not find them before he was commanded to set sail on the Ark.

I began to read God's word and learn of God's unending love for me.  I began to see and hear. Baby steps, baby steps. I addressed my fears, analyzed my faults, repented for my sins.  

God kept whispering.

Just for a day, He whispered lowest of all.  He was there as the love and light in that operating room.  He was there in the eyes of my third child.  He was there in the silence, denial, indifference, and inappropriateness of the doctor's and nurses who overlooked my child's differences, ignoring the obvious.

God spoke directly to my heart, causing me to see beauty that I never could have seen, forcing me to open my heart and believe.  Believing with an earnest fervor and peacefulness I had never experienced.  Sharing my belief openly, that IT did not matter.  Whatever IT was that no one would address, IT did not matter.

In Luke 6:10 Jesus says to the man with the withered hand "Stretch out your hand".  Jesus says this in front of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law and they are Angry.  In this simple act of acceptance and love the man's hand is restored and the men of the land are ANGRY.  Jesus showed them the power of surrendering your weaknesses to God by restoring the man's hand and the authorities were ANGRY.

How dare Jesus aide the weakest among them, the disabled man.  Did Jesus not know who THEY were?  You dare to usurp our authority? 

Power had gone to the heads of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law. Power had made them ignore, deny, be apathetic to, and often persecute those who were different, disfigured, or disabled.  Power had made them more important than everyone else.  This Power fed on itself until they were unable to see the miracle before their eyes.

True power lies in the ability to surrender our weaknesses and our hurts to God so that we may be restored. This is no easy task.

I could have been angry at the doctor's and nurses who ignored IT when Bridgie was born. I could have ranted and raged and called in superiors.  I could have planned for their demise.  I could have acted like the Pharisee's and missed the miracle.

The miracle that lay in my arms looking up at me with her sideways glance.  The miracle that would solidify my relationship with Him.  The miracle that would help me finally accept myself and see all the gifts that had been given to me from birth.  The gifts that I had almost killed myself trying to rid myself of.
The miracle of life.

No, I don't live in a world full of rainbows, unicorns, fairy dust, and tea parties.
I walk with God, finding my way by listening for his whisper, looking for his footprints, choosing His way.

I surrender my weaknesses and hurts to Him on a daily, hourly, and sometimes minute by minute basis.

I struggle.

That I might make a difference.

Just for a day.

"With great power comes great responsibility"

Peter Parker