Know Thy Story

The Leadership Development process Jim and I attended in May gave a follow-up suggestion (one among many) that we would “rewrite our life story.” Not because the first version was wrong, but to write it as an engaged insider, not an outside observer. At first I admit, I wondered, “What is the good of that? I mean, it’s my story. I already know it.” But at different points this summer, I found the process really helpful. Here’s one personal example. I’ve hesitated to post it, because it is, well, personal. But what important parts of our story are not?

During our time in Colorado, as we met many new people, I kept running into different moms who made me feel under the pile. The guilt-inducing proto-types were moms that had 4, 5, 6+ kids, were die-hard homeschoolers who loved to discuss their favorite curriculum choices, and share their convictions about having as many children as they possibly could. And then, observing my two children, would innocently ask, “Are you going to have more children?” Now don’t get me wrong. This was self-inflicted. I don’t have any issues with any of these things, in other families. I home-school too, and enjoy moms who delight in lots of babies. These women are my friends. But after spending time with them, I would come home feeling like such a loser mom. It was stirring significant insecurity in me.

WHY do I keep running into these women, God? Why do they keep feeling compelled to share their very personal convictions about birth control? More importantly, why does this make ME feel like I’m a lousy mom? So I sat down and started writing. I wasn’t really intending to write part of my story, but that’s what spilled out. It was my attempt to reflect before the Lord regarding the question that was causing me much angst… “Are we going to have more children?” In brief, here’s what I wrote…

When I was 22 during my 2^nd year overseas, I was diagnosed with an unusual condition called hyperplasia. I didn’t meet any of the risk factors for this problem, typically emerging in older, overweight, hypertensive women. No one could explain it, but the doctor told me at that time that I might never be able to have children. I didn’t really care that much then, because I wasn’t married. But those were my first recalled anxieties about the matter.

After I married Jim and we decided we would try to start having children, we braced for a long and difficult process of getting pregnant. Quite the contrary, we got pregnant easily and I excitedly awaited motherhood. At the time I was thrilled to think about staying home with a little one, freely expending my efforts and energies for another.

Then our first daughter Hannah was born. After her devastatingly short life ended, I poured myself into the questions I was asking about her death. It was this year that I discovered much about myself that I didn’t know to that degree. As I dove into the quandaries of my heart, I became passionate about studying, research, writing, and teaching, especially particular expressions of those gifts related to my wrestlings. I knew these things to some extent before, but that year fueled desires to grow in areas that I didn’t expect. During the rest of our time in seminary, I finished a degree and had two more children. When Kathryn was a baby and still slept often, I loved working on my seminary studies simultaneously alongside motherhood. Both felt extremely fulfilling and meaningful.

After Ellie was born and we moved to Singapore, I struggled greatly with motherhood. My husband’s new job adjustments and frequent international travel took everything he had, and I was home alone with a 2 year old and 6 month old. I was lonely and struggled for an expression to merely think about other passions I once had.

Also after Ellie was born, I was re-diagnosed with the former hyperplasia of my early 20’s. Again, the doctor found this a bizarre diagnosis, but she advised that we “finish our family” soon. This wasn’t a sad suggestion to me then… with all the transition of the last year, thinking about another baby was out of the question at the time. Regardless, she advised we continue a variety of possible meds to prevent the recurrence of hyperplasia, all of which prevent pregnancy. And so here were are. Kathryn is 6 and Ellie is 4. 2 more years have passed since then.

You’re wondering where I’m going with all of this, right? What does all of this have to do with my insecurities this summer? Does this solve my problem? How has writing all of this out been helpful? Are we going to have more kids? I don’t know, and that’s not the point! Here is what became obvious to me when I wrote all this out.

*This is a very unique story! The health concerns, the death of our daughter, our lives and challenges overseas… these are parts of our story that make it unique. Each person has a unique story, and it’s silly for me to think that God wants my story to look the same as yours! I know this, but recognizing this in my story helps me believe it.

*God has been in charge of this story all along. At times when we thought we couldn’t have children, He changed our path. At times when I thought I would enter a full-time motherhood role, He sent me in the direction of developing my gifts and passions. One of these paths is not holier or more sacrificial. God has sent me at different times towards both.

So how is this helpful? It helps me to stop looking at His design for other families and wonder if something is wrong with me. It helps me trust that He is leading our family uniquely… It frees me to rejoice over your 6 children, and delight in our 2! If you had counseled me before regarding the last two points, I would have totally agreed with you…but I wouldn’t have recognized that message lived out in my own story.

How about your story? Is there a struggle you keep facing in which you feel stuck? Maybe the threads of His guidance are already woven in the fabric of your story.