For Merrit

In my previous post to my sister, I spoke directly from my heart....and it felt GOOD. So, I'm going to do that again in this one and hope I don't lose many any friends in the process.

See, I've been feeling convicted lately to tell "my story." I won't go in to the details as to why, but it's all around me. People opening up, other people being saved because of the openness. Amazing things are happening. It has really been put on my heart lately that witnessing does not mean pounding someone with the bible, but simply telling your story of finding Jesus and hoping someone out there can relate, or find hope. These people that I have found through my church and through blogs...these 2 especially: Momastery and Constant in Chaos, have really inspired me lately. I swear me and G (from Momastery) are long lost sisters. I might have even hung out with her at one time or another and neither of us would have remembered. I'm not ready to put it ALL out there, but I'm going to try not to filter it too much.

The reason this post is titled "For Merrit" is because 1. He turns 5 today, and 2. My life started with him.

I was saved when I was a child. I grew up in a traditional Baptist church, where I went to Sunday school, GA's, you know...the whole 9. But I never really felt "connected." I don't know if it is because I was a child or because I always thought that everyone there was better than me. It seemed that everyone in that church had a perfect family. I did not. And since NO ONE is perfect, they probably didn't either. It just seemed that way. No one was open. No one showed any flaws. I remember feeling so different from everyone else. I stopped going when I was old enough to say so. I guess it was around the time that I started drinking. Just didn't seem right to keep going to a place where no one had any problems. I was tired of trying to live up to everyone else, so I just quit trying.

Here's where I stop for a bit. I don't see any point in laying out what all went on during high school and college. But just so you understand, not a day went by during those years that I did not use in some way. The few times that I decided to stop, it hurt. I couldn't face sobriety. That meant that I actually had to FEEL. I wasn't ready to feel, so I just kept numbing myself. There were times during those years that I thought I was happy. I really did. Until now. I know now what true happiness is, and it wasn't that.

I've always prayed. From as long as I can remember (I actually remember praying that a boy would like me in the 5th grade), I have prayed. But I remember every detail of the night that I gave it all to God. I was sitting in a chair in my bedroom in the Cotton District. After drinking a bottle of wine, which was completely normal for me, I gave up. I talked to God in a way that I have never talked to Him before. I actually thought about everything that I was saying. I wanted Him to intervene in my life somehow, anyhow, I didn't care. I prayed for a miracle. A change. And a change I got. I found out 2 weeks later that I was pregnant.

I was forced for the first time to not drink. No more leaving class and stopping by to buy a bottle of wine on the way home. No more drinks after work. No more drinks on the porch. No more drinks because I was happy. No more drinks because I was sad. No more drinks because so and so was getting married (and there were A LOT of so and so's). It was hard. I'm not going to lie. I felt awful for a long time. I felt dirty. If I didn't feel good enough when I was younger, I CERTAINLY did not feel good enough at this point. But then, something changed. I slowly started getting better. I started enjoying life. I started getting excited about the life inside of me. I had something to live for. And it wasn't just a baby. It was a life. A life where the possibilities were now endless. I was living for the first time.

It didn't just end with a happily ever after. Although, it would be much easier if that were the case. But I don't think that that would have been enough. I have needed every single thing that I have gone through since then, just as much as I needed God to intervene when He did. I by no means have it all together, and as long as I'm on this earth, I never will. I get frustrated. I get irritated. I sin. But I know now that I am loved. Deeply. No matter what. Merrit did not save me. I was saved by God's redeeming grace. But it all started with that precious baby boy. I will never be the same.

Thank you God for coming into my life when I cried out to you in pain. You knew all along the plan you had for me. For my future family. A plan to bless me beyond belief with a husband who is the spiritual leader of our household. Who loves you and is actively pursuing you every day. Who loves me and our kids and is an active husband and father. I couldn't have asked for more. A plan to bless me with 2 beautiful healthy boys who are being raised to glorify you. You knew all along.

               Mama loves you, Merrit. More than I could ever put into words. Thank you, son.



For Alexa

I was 3 1/2 when my little sister, Alexa was born. Obviously, I don't remember life without her. I hear that when she was little, I pretty much treated her like my own baby. I told her what to do up until she was old enough to figure out that she didn't have to answer to me.
I dont remember a whole lot about my childhood, but every single memory has Alexa in it.
I remember playing in our "neighborhood." It was actually a pretty bad part of town and everyone who lived around us was somehow messed up. But those messed up people had kids, and we played with them daily. Tangles, torn clothes, and all.
I remember being jealous of Alexa because she got my cousins' hand me downs and me, being the oldest cousin, never could.
I remember Alexa being MUCH better than me in gymnastics. I was so proud she was my sister.
I remember her always being so happy. Crooked teeth and all. When she realized she had crooked teeth, she started smiling with her mouth closed. Hahaha :-)
I remember giving her hints on what to do when getting a spanking. I told her to first, run. If caught, scream bloody murder the first time hit so they would think she didn't need any more. Genius, I know. I always felt the need to protect her. Always.
Skip to high school. She was BEAUTIFUL. Cheerleader, Homecoming court, you name it. Again, I was SO proud to call her my sister. Not because of those things, but because she was even more beautiful on the inside than she was on the outside.
I was always a few steps ahead of her, obviously, because I was 4 grade years older. I did college by myself for 4 years and then she was there with me. By this time, she was my best friend. We went through things together that only sisters can share. The death of our mamaw, our parents divorce, not having a home to go home to for a while, growing up. Because of my problems in college, I didn't do my job of protecting her like I should have. I look back now and think I could have been such a better influence on her than I was. During this time, she protected me more than I protected her. Only a sister would have done that. And she did. And I will forever be grateful.
She is now so far away and I miss her so much. There is a huge place in my heart for my sister with love overflowing. She is the only person that I can truly be my complete self around (good or bad) because I know that she will never leave me. She doesn't judge. She listens. She laughs. She understands. She is my sister.
Happy Birthday, Alexa.
I love you,
Abby

Witnesses

I just completely stole this story from a friends blog, an AWESOME blog at that, and HAD to share. Thanks, Cathy.

I read about a woman named Pam, who knows the pain of considering abortion. More than 24 years ago, she and her husband Bob were serving as missionaries to the Philippines and praying for a fifth child. Pam contracted amoebic dysentery, an infection of the intestine caused by a parasite found in contaminated food or drink. She went into a coma …and was treated with strong antibiotics… before they discovered she was pregnant.
Doctors urged her to abort the baby for her own safety and told her that the medicines had caused irreversible damage to her baby. She refused the abortion and cited her Christian faith as the reason for her hope that her son would be born without the devastating disabilities physicians predicted. Pam said the doctors didn’t think of it as a life, they thought of it as a mass of fetal tissue.While pregnant, Pam nearly lost their baby four times but refused to consider abortion. She recalled making a pledge to God with her husband: If you will give us a son, we’ll name him Timothy and we’ll make him a preacher.Pam ultimately spent the last two months of her pregnancy in bed and eventually gave birth to a healthy baby boy August 14, 1987. Pam’s youngest son is indeed a preacher. He preaches in prisons, makes hospital visits, and serves with his father’s ministry in the Philippines. He also plays football.


-His name is Timothy Tebow.