When I found out that I was pregnant with my first child, I was angry. It started with a youth service at my church that I will never forget. The service was uplifting and tremendous as always. She preached, young people cried out to God, answers were received, hearts were filled, and lives were changed. Though my life was still a mess I felt like I was beginning to accept the things I couldn’t change. It wasn’t until after service that broke me. I was excited about all the young people that were told of the insurmountable things they would be doing for the Lord. I was standing there waiting amongst saints talking and the preacher walked by me. She greeted some of the mothers and then whispered in my ear that I would get pregnant and have a child.
No one noticed or heard what just happened. I looked at her and laughed and she smiled and walked away greeting more saints. Immediately I dismissed it. I kept reminding myself, “I’ve only been married 1 year and I didn’t accomplish anything.” In fact, I was super careful so that wouldn’t happen and we weren’t in the place to bring life in this world. I was furious as to why God would let the preacher tell me this and have all the other young people ministered in a different way. What really bothered me was I didn’t want a baby but what everyone else had. I didn’t hear of anyone else being told their lives would get ruined. I wanted a supernatural, spiritual calling or anointing like the rest of them.
So I dismissed it, ignored it and pushed it aside. I knew for a fact God wouldn’t allow me to have a child especially after everything I went through and was still working through. Little did I know, a couple weeks after that I was pregnant. Now looking back I feel so bad for rejecting God’s plan. I felt bad for calling him and the servant he used a liar. Though I didn’ realize it but when I refused what she told me I was negating everything she told and preached to everyone else at the service. I was blatantly calling God a liar, his Word false, and his messenger a fake.
From that moment on everything I was harboring about the past was forced to be thrown away. I was scared that I wasn’t ready to be a mother. No one can fully be prepared for motherhood. But I tried to bury my negativity and try my best to make good out of an unexpected situation. But, it was only the beginning the journey God had prepared for me.
To my surprise, nothing went as how I planned in the pregnancy. I barely had maternity clothes, only went to one doctor visit (we didn’t have insurance so try not to judge) and the time was ticking. It wouldn’t be long before our child was here and I felt even more burdened because nothing was how I imagined. I kept flashing back to my wedding (another story for another day) and I doubt that I was strong enough to handle another round of disappointment.
Through all my emotions, worry and doubt, when the time arrived for labor I was overwhelmed with peace and calmness. The day before my initial due date was when I started feeling cramps and I couldn’t sleep. Finally at 6 am I told my mom that I think I needed to go to the hospital, my husband came and we got there at 7 am. In the midst of all the pain and nervousness I was surprisingly calm, cool and collective. I don’t know about other women in labor, but I was expecting to be dramatic, in pain and agony, screaming for drugs. I actually had a smile on face through it all. Hours later, our gorgeous baby girl arrived and everything felt right. I was complete, happy, and had absolute no care that my hoo-haw underwent the most painful process known to woman (not man because obviously men can’t have children). She was here, resting on my chest, content and satisfied and so was I.
As my motherhood began, I was happy and excited to be a parent and start this crazy journey but something was missing. And it wasn’t the post-partum depression talking, I was frustrated because I was still craving for something more. I couldn’t satisfy it, didn’t know what or how to feed it, I just knew my soul was hungry (and I thought I was done craving and good thing cause I lost almost all the weight). Months and months went by and I expressed my dissatisfaction everywhere I went. My family, husband, baby, everyone suffered the wrath of discontentment I was harboring.
I was praying, pleading, searching, asking God (and Google) what do I need to do to have fulfillment, what do I need in order to get rid of this frustration. I started journaling and it helped. I was able to write down my thoughts and feelings that I wasn’t proud of sharing, that I felt ashamed of having. Whenever I was mad I was able to go straight to my flower notebook and my ballpoint pen and I always felt better even though my problems weren’t solved. Talking to God always put a smile on my face – he is the only one that can fix everything.
Somehow my heart was still missing something. I still didn’t know what my purpose, my destiny was and how to find out about it. Then, I ran across Elaine Mingus blog and it awakened a secret desire I didn’t know I had (thanks girlfriend!). Her testimony was and is inspiring! I’ve always loved to write, I believe I sound way smarter on paper anyway. I didn’t have any clue about blogging, but I decided if my heart skipped a beat at the thought of creating a blog where I can creatively and spiritually release everything unto God and others why not give it a try. Next thing I know, I’m writing and I can’t stop. I can’t believe I’ve shared so much about myself already. I keep rereading this over and over, contemplating if I want to make it sweet and simple, minus all the green monster parts but somehow I’m not afraid to really be who God created me to be. To be honest, I kind of don’t want this post to end, but to forever run on and on talking about how much I love God, what he has done for me all my life, how I live – the good and bad, what my destiny and purpose is….but I guess that is what blogging truly is.