Monday, January 31, 2011


and miracle!!


taken at 18weeks, 1 day

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Excitement growing within

As my baby grows more and more I am allowing myself to get excited. I feel baby move and kick at me. Knowing that God has blessed me with the being inside.

I had a vision where Jesus was holding a small pink blanket. In this blanket laid a baby. He pulled me closer to Him and we stared at the baby. Jesus whispered, "I have this baby in my hands. It is not in yours, it is in mine and I just ask that you continue to walk in faith and trust for me to take care of this baby that you can't physically hold yet."

I came to peace with it. I felt peace as I fell asleep after the vision.

I just booked a 3D ultrasound appointment for the 12th. A chance to see this precious little one God has blessed us with. To know that this is a healthy boy or girl.

This morning in my reading I came across a great verse. Psalm 25:10, "All the ways of the Lord are loving and faithful." All of them. He is protecting us in love and in faith. I will choose to continue to walking in faith and leaving it to Him. It is hard but it is worth it!

Saturday, January 22, 2011


Yesterday I attended an amazing mans funeral. We celebrated the life of Myron Berg. Myron tragically passed away on December 28th due to a head on motor vehicle collision. His quick thinking spared the lives of his 4 children and beautiful wife.

Sitting at the funeral I was humbled by seeing how many people filled the room. I would say a thousand people for sure. Copies were made of a little flag his youngest daughter made. Who at 7 years old put her artistic talents to work and made a Canucks flag for her dad. We waved them all in remembrance of him.

Of course after the service my mind started going a mile a minute. This man was so in tune with God and his internal compass (as the pastor put it) was pointed straight at God. Got me thinking, where is mine pointed?

I think that maybe 30 people would be at my funeral and that is because they are family or friends. I don't think I have touched or impacted any lives around me. When the pastor said that Myron got to hear the words, "Well done, good and faithful servant" I started to think. What would He say to me? I am pretty dang sure it would not be "well done" or that I "did well". Who have I impacted? Am I an example of Christ? Do I share His love?

How can I share His love when there are more times then not when I struggle to understand it myself? How can I talk about Him when I don't know enough about Him? When I struggle to understand more and feel like I am at a stage where I have to figure it out on my own.

I haven't made a difference and to me that is ok right now. Because being at this funeral and thinking about how there would in no way be this much support for me I wanted to change. I wanted to be one of those people like Myron. That walked in faith and everyone knew it. They knew who he leaned on. They knew he loved his family with all his heart. He was proud of them. They were proud of him. God is proud of him.

So knowing and feeling like God is not proud of me. That I don't make a difference and that God would not say, "well done" to me I feel a flicker inside me wanting to change. Wanting to get the counselling I struggle to make. Wanting to dive in to the Word more.

I realize how fragile life is and I cried while having my hand placed on my ever growing belly. Feeling blessed that even in my struggles and confusion God has given me a gift. And this child will be received with open arms, as it already is. As I hang on to the hope and faith that this will be the one to come to our family and fill the house again. While baby kicks inside of me it reminds me of God's grace. In my time of pain and anger and bitterness with God He still chose to bless us. So although I may not FEEL like an example of His love I can work on it and be the best person God has made me to be.

Myron, you are a wonderful example and I can only hope to impact lives like you have. May you be in Christ's presence and enjoying your time with Him. I remember Myron being excited about our pregnancy. Congratulating us for the good news. What did I do? I whispered, "We aren't telling anyone yet." I do regret that but I know that Myron would not want me to hold on to that. So I give it to God and I thank Him that our lives got to have a taste of the beauty and faithfulness of this amazing man.

Myron, you are loved and missed. May you rest in His presence.

the copy of the flag his seven year old daughter made for him on Christmas. We wave it in your honor Myron.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Moments of clarity

The claws of depression can be large and dark. Sharp and pulling you in. I have dealt with the depression for only 6 years. I know of people that have dealt with it a lot longer then I have.

Being up since 5:30 again this morning I have been thinking. My teaching over the last couple years has taught me a lot. It has taught me that the depression can pull me under but even though it does God can lift me back up. It doesn't stop the silence that screams out from within my soul. It is a battle but it is worth it.

The things that I have been taught have included the fact that God will protect me. He will hold me up when I fall. That "He will command his angels concerning you to guard you carefully; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone." Luke 4:10-11

This came to me this morning. That I will fall, I will stumble, but I have to try really hard to remember that even though I don't FEEL it at the moment God is talking to his angels concerning little ol' me. That I am important enough that God will take the time to give His angels to help me not strike my feet as I fall to the ground and feel like I can't get up. When I feel like I am being dragged through the muck, the dirt and the grime He has his angels with me so that I won't be alone.

Sure it is a painful journey but I have experienced the joy of coming out on the other side of that darkness. The other side of that scary path there is the light that warms my heart. The light that tells me that He will be there even though I don't feel Him.

I can't feel Him right now but at this exact moment it almost feels like the fog has lifted a bit. Just enough to remember the truth. That God loves me and that I am loved by others as well. The tears have been falling and I can't even tell you exactly why. Maybe God wants them to cleanse me. I know this path is not over and the journey will continue.

The voices are mean. The voices are lonely. The voices are dark. I don't feel His warmth right now but am reminded to walk in faith. "Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed." John 20:29 Reminding myself of this verse I will choose to lean on the truth that I know is real. The truth that although I cannot feel Him, He is here with me. I will walk this darkness out in faith.

This is really hard. Nothing worth it is easy. No one ever said the journey of faith will be an easy one either. God never promised there would be no pain, no grief, no tears, no confusion but at this exact moment I will choose to walk in faith.

It is hard because I feel the dark gripping me and not wanting to let go. That familiar darkness. That familiar pain. That familiar loneliness. I will continue to go step by step and day by day. I will do this on my own, but alas - I am not alone. I just have to let Him in. I have a hard time praying right now and I feel fake about it. I am a sin filled, problematic, fallen child.

I really don't know where I am going with this, except just feeling a SLIGHT bit of peace this morning. Peace within the midst of darkness. Warmth in the midst of the cold. Loved in midst of the pain. Understood by Him, if not by anyone else. Right now I lean on the hope that He will help me through this. That maybe, just maybe He might see that I am alone and don't want to be. I don't want to scream. I wear the mask and continue on my way. Continue on the path that I know will end. Eventually.

I pray that he forgives me for going back and forth. For feeling stuck. For feeling like a failure. Within the battle that is oh so familiar I will struggle and fight to not stay in that familiar place but remind myself of the joy I feel in Him. At this exact moment I remember Him. The Daddy I always wanted. I just hope that he is holding me and won't punish me. The brief moments of clarity lift the fog and bring warmth again.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Silent Screams

Kind of sounds contradicting doesn't it? How can a scream be silent? Screams are loud and usually make people's heads turn towards the one screaming. But I feel like I am screaming inside but yet am silent through it all.


It is only because it is my fault. I am not telling anyone. I am not letting anyone in. I feel guilty for feeling the pain and the hurt and frustration that I do when I watch so many around me suffer through harder things then the petty shit on my brain. I feel guilty for wanting to cry and run and scream. My life is blessed so what the hell is my problem? I feel like an ungrateful person. I feel like a forgotten daughter. I feel like a failure.

I have been absolutely blessed with this fifth pregnancy. A pregnancy that is in fact keeping me on my toes but a blessing none the less. A baby that is now at 16 weeks 4 days gestation age. A baby that I have longed to be pregnant with. A baby that I am starting to feel move. I have longed to feel those things again. Through my pain and my anger back in September God had still decided that bless me with this baby. To bless my family with this baby. I don't DARE ask why me for fear it might be taken away out of punishment. I am told though that our God is not like that. Yet here I sit silently in tears. Silently screaming at the top of my lungs. Gasping for breath so that I can bring one more scream out. Yet I don't do it. I silently let it build. I don't let anyone in, not even God. Would He really want to hear the same crap from me? Would He deem me ungrateful and punish me and make me pay?

The last week or so I have silently been trying to battle my depression. There are good days and bad days of course. I almost wonder with the increasingly different changes with my hormones, if maybe my mind can't hang on to the balance anymore. I don't want to increase my meds. So I silently battle.

Today at church I sat by myself. Running on four and a half hours of sleep I fought the tears. Hearing the pain that my pastor is going through with his family. Hearing the pain that a very special church family is going through. All the while thinking that I really don't deserve to be upset. Yet, I cry. I struggle.

I felt like I couldn't even sing the songs. As I would be nothing but a fake. Where is this God, this Father that I knew loved me. Why don't I feel that anymore? Why do I feel like He is no where to be heard or seen. Why do I feel like if I admit this out loud my baby would be snatched from within my womb because I don't believe. I DO really believe but I fight.

Our wonderful pastor ended the service saying a couple things. Some of the things he said were, "God loves you." "God is proud of you." I bawled. I dropped my head in tears. I sat silently screaming and feeling like no one gave a shit. Everyone walked past me and around me. I couldn't feel God although I cried out to Him. Proud of ME? He loves ME? Why? When all I feel like I am doing is being ungrateful. I feel like I am at a breaking point again and I don't like it. I feel like the dark is ever so slowly engulfing me again. I fight as best I can but what good is a fight if no one is there to battle with you? I tell my husband I am tired because I just don't want to worry him or my son. So I silently fight.

During coffee time a dear friend passed me, rubbed my shoulder and said hi. It was all I could do to put on a fake smile and say hi back. I couldn't say hi so I just smiled. Then another dear friend approached me and I put on the act. I put on the laughs and the smiles saying I was great. Saying the baby was good. Yet inside I was stomping my feet and screaming. Yet on the outside I successfully was able to wear my mask again. I looked at her and her eyes pierced in to me and I knew I had to tell her. I had to tell someone. So I just said, "honestly, I am struggling with the depression, so yeah....but it will be fine." Sure, it WILL be fine. But damn it Misty, you have to let people in to fight with you. Yet I won't do it because there are so many other people hurting. So I fight silently.

Sitting there at the end of service while the tears flowed I dropped to my knees just listening to the music. Not daring to get up and ask for prayer. I cried alone. Surrounded by the dark. Surrounded by laughter and people mingling but all I could think was, "suck it up Misty. Put on your big girl panties and wear the mask." So I sat back down and wiped my tears. Breathed a big sigh, got up put on my coat and did what I do best. I ran away. There are a few I want to reach to because they know this dark ugly path I have been on. Maybe just maybe they would care. But I don't even give them the benefit of doubt and I know that this is something I have to walk through on my own. I feel selfish. I feel pathetic. I let the tears fall briefly as I type and each one that drops upon my ever growing belly is like letting out a scream of relief. Then I feel the guilt wash over me again. I should be happy. I am happy. So why do I silently sit here screaming and fighting the darkness that is oh so familiar at this point.

Screaming silently but wanting to secretly let people in.


The dark engulfs me and
starts to entangle me in it's
thick, familiar web.
The voice of light seems to
be so distant at this point that
even though I can feel it's
warmth and see it's brightness
I see it getting smaller
and smaller.
I stand wanting to stomp my
feet and cry like a child.
I scream but no sound
can escape my soul.
So I stand there, silently
screaming and putting on a smile
so that no one will know.
God knows yet I won't let
Him in enough so that we
can fight the dark together.
No, I can do this on my
own, even though I know
that I am clearly not supposed to.
The road that has been
so familiar for me in the past
is beckoning for me to come
along it and walk it again.
To turn around, walk down
it's dark and lonely fear
gripping, bumpy surface.
I stand in one spot screaming
from within not knowing
where to turn and what to do.
I am reaching out my hand
to feel Daddy take my own
but where is it?
I can't find it's familiar
warmth and strength.
So as the dark pulls in around
me I stand not knowing what
to do and silently screaming
for help.
Hoping that somewhere, He
will hear me and care. That
someone will care.
Not out of sympathy, but because
they love me and have
walked it with me before.
But for now my throat tightens,
my teeth clench and
my body wretches within.
I put on the mask, wear the
happy face and take another
step, refusing to let the
dark win.
It is all I can do.