Dear Gigi: Trust God with Your Dreams

Dear Gigi,

I love telling this story. I tell it all the time, but I thought I would write it down for you. To remind you to trust God with your dreams, to trust He has the best plan for you and your family, even when its not your plan.

Your first year of life was hard.  Food allergies for an infant is hard, hard on the baby and harder on the parents. We worried, we prayed, we all grew older that year, for the better and for worse.

After your first birthday, we knew what your allergies and we were able to avoid them. You flourished. My beautiful baby was a toddler and I missed the baby stage. I cried at the thought of weaning you. The thought of the baby stage ending made my heart sad for time gone forever.

Your dad was content with the size and the completion of our family. He was clear that he did not want another baby.  That rough first year was felt by your father just as deeply as me, maybe more so. He did not want any more children, he said his heart could not take it. I did not disagree. It was a hard year. And yet, I envisioned three children. In my heart there was another baby that belonged in our family.

But he was right. We were tired, our emotions were raw with stress and worry. And what if the other baby had food allergies like you? or worse. So, although I longed for another baby, I did not disagree with my husband. So I quiet, and hoarded baby clothes.

I kept and stored every stitch of baby clothes you and your older brother ever wore. Six bins of baby clothes were stashed in the attic, drawers, and under beds. I was saving for that baby that we were never going to have. My fear was if I gave away my baby clothes,  I would give away my third baby dream. I did not trust God to provide for this desire.  I thought I knew better.   I did not.

At Christmas, our church friends gathered for a holiday party. The party discussion for the evening was if Christ were coming to dinner, what would we give him for Christmas? We went around the room and gave various intangible things, some gave Facebook time, some gave others things. Truth be told, I do not recall what others gave because I was consumed by my gift. I knew the instant the question was asked what I would give. I would give all my baby clothes. Actually I would give my trust to God for another baby and I would give away all my baby clothes.  I could hardly get the words out with out crying.

The following week, even the act of gathering these clothes drove me to tears. Yet, I kept my promise. That is was faith is, not only believing that God will provide, but acting on it. The analogy of a chair comes to mind, not only believing that the chair will hold you up, but actually sitting in the chair. So for me, it was not only believing that God would fulfill my desire, but to trust by giving away all these baby clothes.  I choose to believe God would fill my void. And IF (a big if) I was to have another baby,  He would provide all the baby needed.  I needed to trust God and my spouse  about what was best for our family. I needed to put my desires aside and trust.

This was about two weeks before Christmas. By christmas, the difficult task had been complete. Then we all got sick. You, me, your father and brother all got the stomach flu for Christmas. Christmas was cancelled. We called your grandparents and told them not to come to the house of illness. We were traveling the next month and we would celebrate then.

The week after our trip, I discovered I was pregnant. It seems God's Christmas gift to me was a stomach bug, But this stomach bug, and meds that followed to recover, completely eliminated the effectiveness of my birth control.

Then there was the act of telling your dad. When I think back on that day of worry, I believe I was attacked. Attacked by negativity and doubt and lies. I married a good, honest, gentle man that loves us more than himself. I feel badly for worrying all day, I wasted time that I did not have to.

Your dad knew.

What?!? "How did you know?" I cried.

"God told me you were pregnant. I just knew" He said calmly.

"If you knew why didn't you tell me?!?"

"Because if you weren't pregnant, you'd wanna be!" he smiled.

We laugh about it now.

Your brother's name, Samuel, means asked of God.  Because I asked for another baby, and your dad asked for another boy.  He said he could only handle one girl, one Gigi.

So we asked and God answered with Samuel.

I think God was waiting for my trust. His plan is the best for us. Sometimes that lines up with what we want, and sometimes it doesn't. But God knows better than us.

I do not know what your heart desires as you read this. A school, a job, a relationship, a baby, a goal, a change.....but I know that God has a plan for you. I pray that you will trust Him with your dreams and rest knowing that His ways are perfect.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.        Jeremiah 29:11

Always travel in Hope and Kindness

Dear Gigi,

Today we went to the bike store to retrieve my road bike. I've been injured off and on for the last two months, so I am moving forward with something new. I've owned this bike for over an year and have yet to take a ride. Its time.  Its time to try something new and learn how to fly in a new way. That's the hope part. It's easy to push and push and get frustrated as our plans don't go our way. Its much harder to try a new direction. Don't mis-understand, I'm not giving up on running....but I choose now to travel in hope and try something new.  I hope I like it cycling.  I hope I love it.  I hope I keep running too.

We were the first to arrive at the store. In fact, we arrived before the clerk.  He arrived flustered and late and grumpy.  He complained how "the other guy" did no work and left a mess for him to clean up. He complained that he had worked 16 days straight without a day off. He complained that my bike was not ready because the "other guy" is lazy and on and on.

I was annoyed. Frankly I didn't care about him or his troubles. He was rude and unprofessional. He said my bike would be ready in an hour and to return then. He would work on my bike just as soon as he cleaned up the mess the other guy left him.

We left to deliver meals and I was hot. What terrible customer service! Really! I would pick up my bike and never return. No, I would pick up my bike and then called the owner and complain of his bad behavior.

You were sitting in the back with your brothers, unaware that anything was the matter.

"That guy was really grumpy," I said.  No answer, none of you noticed. You were in awe of the hundreds of bikes lined up neatly in a row. Really I'm surprised I noticed as I was terrified that one of you would knock one or more of the bikes over. They were poised for the dreaded domino effect.

"If you were grumpy and had to work, what would make you feel better?'

"Play a game for 10 hrs" Sebastian chimed in.

"Well, he can't because he's at work"

"Go home to mom & dad?"  Sweet Sam.

"He can't, he has to work."

"He needs a snack." Oh Gigi, you are wise beyond your years.

He probably got out of bed 10 mins before arriving at work and didn't have breakfast. Your sweet heart softened mine. It was settled. We would eat our lunch at the Chic-fil-A next door to the bike shop and bring this grumpy guy a cookie. I can't imagine a reprimand from his boss would help his demeanor, nor losing his job.

When we returned he was still working on my bike. I frowned.

"I brought you something." I said cheerfully. He didn't look up.

"Oh?" He grumbled.

"Yes, we thought you were having a rough day, so we brought you a cookie."

He looked down at the cookie. "Sweet!"

His entire demeanor changed. He cheerfully told me the story  of knocking all the bikes over in the store as I fussed at Sam not to touch anything. I paid and he helped me load the bike into our minivan. Which he did with ease and joy.

Other than the "sweet," nothing was said about the cookie. But he cheered quite a bit. And that was worth it. Far more than wondering if my complaint got him fired, I left knowing that I, at least, increased his sugar levels and he was no longer hangry (hungry + anger).

Travel in kindness, my dear Gigi. Although I might have felt better, telling him or his boss about his bad behavior, it would have helped no one, including me. This way, it might help the next customer that walked in.

I hope when you behave badly at your job, as we all do sometimes, that someone will extend grace, kindness and mercy.

"It's not our job to toughen our children up to face a cruel and heartless world. It's our job to raise children who will make the world a little less cruel and heartless." L.R. Knost

"Those who are Kind benefit themselves, but the cruel bring ruin of themselves." Proverbs 11:17 

"Be Kind whenever possible. It is always possible "  Dalai Lama XIV

Dear Gigi, Its a blessing to have your world rocked.

Dear Gigi,

Today, we celebrate. Perhaps your dad and I more than you, but celebration all the same. I write to today so that you can read about a time I am glad you will forget. Today you were cleared of your last food allergy.  Today  we sat at the doctors office and waited for any reaction from your food challenge.  You passed with flying colors, without  hiccup, rash or any other discomfort. You watched a movie while I waited and watched you closely. My emotions heighten at the thought of your discomfort. Fear built up inside me and I prayed. 

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, 1John 4:18

To say that you rocked my world when you were born would be an understatement. As baby #2, I thought I knew what I was doing. I did not. The story of your birth is a another story altogether.  I could write and write about how your surprised us all.  But this story took 5+ years to write. Years that we celebrated today...what marked what allergies would be a part of who you are and what you would outgrow.

After we brought you home, I expected the sleepless nights and the sleepy days. I had your very easy brother to compare you to a newborn.  I expected the 4th trimester of getting to know each other, nursing, sleeping, cuddling. Yet, you were not well. The crying went thru the night and into the day. After nursing, you would be less happy. Colic some called it, but something told me it was more.  As a mother, always listen to your gut. if something is wrong find out and keep looking till you get the answer. 

At your 6 week newborn appointment, I stressed my worries to the doctor. She dismissed me as over sensitive new mother, telling me that I did not nurse you enough and this would pass. I explained my concern for your unsettled demeanor and your scary diapers, the doctor seemed unmoved and unconcerned. And then, as if by on command, you had a bowel movement. I showed the doctor what was scaring me and immediately, she acknowledged and confirmed my worry, and I heard for the first time about food allergies. 

I was then advised to put you on formula. The Dr. explained that because you took in everything I took in, the safest route was to feed you formula until we were able to determine what your allergies. I felt defeated. I quit my job to care and feed you and now a major part of that would be removed. The logic did not make sense to me either. If you were allergic to milk and soy, what was left? Chemicals?  The Dr. explained to that because we did not know your allergies, I'd have to remove from my diet the top 8 allergens; milk, eggs, soy, peanuts, tree nuts, shellfish, wheat and corn. She had never met a mother able to remove all of those from their diet. My mental response, watch me.  I tell you this, because you are stronger than me, and You can do hard things too. 

And there started our food allergy journey. Of documenting everything I ate, pumping and saving milk that I feared had a contaminate. Endless appointments at specialists. This was not an easy journey. We saw pediatricians, pediatric gastroenterologists, dermatologists, allergists, and multiples of each as we were active duty military stationed at a training hospital, then moved when you were nine months old. So we had several starts and stops, with some exposures, skin reactions and many sleepless nights both from worry and from unrest. 

I recall cutting you fingernails one night, feeling tired emotionally, physically and spiritually, and I clipped your finger. It was then I broke down and cried. I cried to God, admitting I could not do this. I had reach the point of giving up and I needed help. I do not know how we made it thru our first year. It rocked my world.....but what a blessing. 

Because of you, I learned how to read food labels. Because of you, we are all healthier. I learned about chemicals, additives and preservatives, things I never even considered before. I learned about the value of whole foods, whole grains and clean eating. These things would never have even graced our door. Before you, two working parents ate whatever was fast and easy. As a result, my health improved as I removed allergens from our diet. 

Because of you, I learned how to cook. There was a time I thought such domesticated pursuits were beneath me. I was wrong. There is honor is caring and loving your family. There was a steep learning curve, but I embraced the climb. The transition from working mother to stay-at-home mom can be difficult, you filled every empty moment with purpose. 

Because of you, I learned that I could give beyond myself, leaning on the strength of a love greater than myself and we grew stronger together. This very difficult time was a blessing to us all. Struggle is a blessing, because of what we learn from it. There is a reason for struggle. 

And now we are here, five years later and here you are cleared from food allergies. And yet, I wouldn't change our journey for the easy road, for how can we know peace if we don't know struggle?

Dear Gigi, I wish this for you.

I am sitting on a plane on my way to do something a little bit crazy and I am delighted. I am to run a full 26.2 miles along with 45 thousand other runners on Sunday morning. I am writing this before the race because I do not want you to miss the point of my success, of my success right now. If I meet my goal or falter and hit the wall, I do not want the race to cloud the truth of this moment, of sitting on this plane. I wish this for you.

As I sit here, I've completed four months of training, without injury, with my marriage still intact and with a training plan complete. Plan complete, yes, complete. Even though I have not run this race yet, the plan is complete. This plan that included a steady increase in miles, track workouts and early morning runs, long Saturdays and heavy leaning on your dad. You are almost 5 now, and have no idea that my mornings start 2 hours before yours. This weekend might be forgotten as another weekend with your dad and grandma, but I will never forget his support for me and care for you and your brothers as I stretch myself to call myself a marathoner again.  

This will be my first marathon as a mother. My life changed with you, and it is only now, in the last season that I can see myself differently. I believe my calling is you, to raise you and point to God. Yet, even in that calling, I can see a little of who I once was, a distance runner. So this summer, in our new home town, I decided to chase her down and see if I could catch her, again.

I wish this for you. I wish that you will make a goal that is all your own, not the dream of someone else for you, but something that is part of your soul. Unexplainable and undeniable, I pray that you will know yourself enough to be comfortable in your own skin and know who you are even in your dreams. 

I wish for you to stretch farther than you think you can go and then realize you can go further. I wish for your to work on something that does not come easy. I wish for pain and tears, sweat and sacrifice. I wish for you devotion, diligence and grit.  I want you to reach for a goal that takes days and weeks, months and even years to attain. I wish for you to make a plan.... cultivate it, follow it, tear it up and make a new plan. I wish for your plan to change but not your goal.

I wish for you to have cheerleader. Someone that does not do it with you, or for you, but cheers you on from the sideline. I pray that cheerleader will also challenge you to decide if this goal is something you really do want, as they see you make sacrifices and even suffer. Your father is my cheerleader, at times cheering me on and other times questioning my passion. Both are needed. Needed to keep your priorities grounded and to propel your dreams.

I wish for you to reach the moment of all you can do. I do not mean exhaustion, depletion or surrender, but of completion.  I have done all I can do. On this plane, training is complete, hotel reserved, grandma on call, dad on standby, shoes packed and now I travel to my destination. My success is the training, not the race. My success is the arrival, not the finish line time. Oh, the finish line time is important to me....very, but it does not come near encompassing what it took to get here today, on this plane.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is like a tree of life. 
(‭Proverbs‬ ‭13‬:‭12‬ NET)
This longing in my heart is now fulfilled to a tree of life in my soul.  

I wish this for you.  

(Written October 10, 2014)