List of Affirmations

I had a strange moment today, and I had to take a moment to stand and breath through it. 

A wonderful friend of ours who lives down the hall came to our door. She offered to have a mini adventure with Ronen. If you know much about parenting, you know that it is these moments that guardians treasure as it gives them an extra peaceful moment. 

Except, I never make it peaceful. I look around at the apartment, and I see all the things I have to get done, and I start to prioritize what I can do in this extra moment I have. Ronen's toys are sprawled along the floor. We have dishes out on the table, hot beverage carafes from a past event and colin and I's clothes on the floor. My extra moment will be a race to see how much I can get done.

Some may call it God, my mother's voice or maybe a cry from within my own soul, but words breathe and see came over me. The very thought gave me anxiety because, obviously, I had a massive list of things to do. But I decided to take some deep breaths, and with each one, I felt my mind slow down.

My to-do turned into a list of affirmations as I looked at my apartment. My daughter's toys showed the life that she brings into our lives. Her things on the floor indicates that this is her home too, she belongs here. The dishes from the night before shows how it was possible to have a meal together with our demanding schedules. The hot beverage carafes from the weekend before reminded me that we live in a community where we can share and laugh together even in our tiny home. The clothes on the ground shows that my husband and I can adapt to changing from house clothes to business attire when our daughter is napping in our only bedroom. 

The things that previous whispered failures to me whispered success and my heart warmed. I do admit that I did do a couple things on that list before an interruption came to our door and needed attending, but that too is a sign that people care to be around us. That we too belong.

Here's to success, even if it doesn't look like what I first imagined.

Peace,

Faith

This month is Pregnancy and Infant loss awareness month and the 15th is the actual day selected to remember this. This past year my husband and I have lost two pregnancies. On December 18, 2015, we lost Pax Casey to miscarriage. On April 14, we lost Arrow Xavier to ectopic pregnancy.

As a mom who has lost two children in the womb, I have encountered a lot of well meaning people trying to comfort or encourage me. Some have said great things, some haven’t.

I thought I could share with you what have been the most healing things that have been said to me as my husband and I grieve our children, and also what not to say.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SJ2avPk0P0Q

The following is roughly what I say in the video

Things not to say and what to say instead

At least they’re in heaven- We wanted them here. I wanted to witness the first moments of my husband holding his son or daughter. I wanted to watch our parents see their grandchild for the first time. I picture them at every family gathering. I guess who would be holding them. Let us grieve them not being here.

There is a reason- Sometimes thinking there is a reason makes it hurt more. I don’t want a reason. I want my kids. It never makes sense to lose a child at any stage. Let it not make sense

Are you going to try again?- Do not ask this question. Only the grieving parents should be the ones allowed to bring up future kids. It takes away from the focus of the child they just lost. Just because they weren’t born doesn’t mean they weren’t real.

Here is what you say:

I remember them: A friend came up to me once and said, “I am thinking about you because I remembered that Pax’s due date was this weekend.” That showed me that I wasn’t alone in remembering Pax and that Pax was important enough for someone to know that. Mention their name if you know it, mention how old they will be. Whatever you remember share. Just as you would if it was someone else.

I miss them: Another friend will text me every once and awhile just to say “I miss Pax and Arrow.” As a parent knowing that someone else misses my kids is so heartwarming. That someone else will think of them and wish they were here. Someone else besides me and my husband misses that we won’t see them grow up. That is huge.

You are a good parent: Lastly, one of the most meaningful things that was said to me was after I explained to a friend a tattoo I got in Pax and Arrow’s honor. I explained the story and why I decided to remember them that way. Afterwards he just nodded and said, “Faith, You are a good mom.”

He didn’t say you were or you would have been.

Him saying, “Faith, You’re a good mom.” was the most affirming thing anyone has told me during this past year.

I don’t have any children who are alive and with me today. I hardly ever get recognized as a mom and that sucks. Because I am a mom, I love my children fiercely. And I choose hope and to believe they will live even in the scariest moments in the ER room and before emergency surgery.

So if you have someone in your life that you know has lost a pregnancy (not just the mother because it hurts for the father too), it doesn’t matter how much you know or don’t know, say something like this:

I am thinking about you and I am remembering your child. (use their name if you know it.)

I miss them and wish they were here.

You are a good parent.

Thank you for reading/watching

Faith

For Pax and Arrow

Today is my first mother’s day

but my children have come and gone

leaving me a mother with no babes.

They were never born.

They never took a breath

but they were living,

their blooded pumped in tiny veins.

Twice my heart has leapt with joy

Twice my soul has mourned,

I will never hold them here on earth

Imagination has taken over

pattering feet,

laughter,

gender,

sweet voices,

eyes,

and hearts,

all that I will not know.

A mother robbed left only to dream

Of little ones she will not kiss.

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“They are with our heavenly father.”

“You’ll have a baby someday.”

I do not want reasons.

I wish I could have shown them

our beautiful world,

And seen them play with their earthly father.

Others may come, but these left holes

that cannot be filled.

My heart grieves still as my mind races

Why me?

Why both?

How could God allow this?

Where is your faithfulness God?

I cry with the psalmists,

Have I been forgotten?

My hand still reaches for them

but the spot they had their only moments is empty

and scarred.

Then my hand reaches to my heart,

the only place my children remain in me.

My God lives there too,

as love for all three pulse through me

and tears swell.

I am not alone.

This is my hope.

This mother’s day I will get out of bed.

I will hold the clothes and stuffies that bear their names.

I will cry as I seek my husband’s embrace.

Then I will try to be thankful to our God.

But I will celebrate with and for all mothers,

for the ones who have theirs to love

and those who have lost their precious ones.

I will go through my day one foot after another.

I will whisper my children’s names on my heart

And let them escape to my lips.

I will thank my God for them.

For though their lives were short,

all my love has cascaded upon them

and they have been imprinted onto me

forever.

And I will miss them,

Oh how I miss them,

My children.

Broken

The past semester I have been a practicum student at an agency that works in transitional housing for men and women who have come out of  the criminal justice system, addiction, health issues, abuse and mental illness. My fellow student and I really didn't have a "task" or an ongoing project.  We were there to be present with people, talk with them, help them with the "basics" (cooking, computer issues, doing homework, etc.) The best thing we got was hanging out with them especially through conversation. I learned about pain and beauty. When I was suppose to turn in my final report about agency policies, my skills, the daily activities and vocational goals, it was extremely hard to write. I learned so much more than all that, so I wrote  the following first....

I have started realizing that the more broken and the more struggles someone has faced, the more precious they are. Maybe it’s because I can’t comprehend their pain, maybe it is because I want to hold them up and give them everything good so that I can see their smiles, maybe it is Jesus living through me or maybe I am ignorant. All I know was that I was going in to a practicum thinking I was going to see the “worst of humanity” and ended looking at myself. Poetic irony? Perhaps. All I know is that those people are stronger than I am, but society says I am more put together. Put together does not equal strength. It only means that I know how to act on the stage with everyone else and had people who prompt me up there. The lady who was sold for sex for some cigarettes nightly by her mother is more beautiful than I am. How have I come to this conclusion? She was able to escape because she knew that she was worth more than that even though she had no one showing her and I am constantly trying to find my worth in my school, my marriage, my relationships, my status, my service and my performance. I have so much going for me and so many people rooting for me and I am still trying to find my worth and who I am. She was able to find it, saying “This is who I am” and she is “more messed up”. She has found beauty in distress and has “taken the good” out of the bad. Society says I am better than her, but society is wrong.

I have met people who are rapists, murderers, thieves, bank robbers, bomb makers, drug addicts and alcoholics. And I love being around them. It doesn’t make sense, does it? I haven’t even wrapped my head around it. Some people have thought I was crazy being okay sitting next to an ex-leader of one of the largest gangs in the world who has shot and hurt many. But I love him, his hurt is deeper than mine and it’s attractive to my soul, not in some sick sadistic way but in a humble way. I can learn so much from him, he has so much to offer but no one cares or no one listens. At the end of my practicum, I can throw out all of these psychology theories about why these people are where they are, what happened in their childhood that made them captives to their circumstances, and although there may be truth in that, it is not that truth that changed me. These people, their stories, their acceptance of ME and my acceptance of THEM, taught me more than any textbook could. I now understand why Jesus hung out with the worst because somehow, the worst is the best and the kingdom should be made up of the broken. Broken is beautiful, it’s a twisted truth, but it’s a beautiful one.

 “While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and “sinners” came and ate with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does you teacher eat with tax collectors and “sinners”?”

            On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means.’ I desire mercy, not sacrifice. For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”

Matthew 9:10-12

If you ask me how I am doing. I would say just fine.... and that would be the truth.

I am still saving my pennies and dimes, trying to brainstorm about how I can make a better tomorrow, when I should just focus on today and being the best Faith Melody Kelley that God gave the world.

I still put off my homework and studying for midterms till the last seconds and let stress/adrileraine push me to the end when I had plenty of time between my day dreaming, surfing cute animals on youtube, trying to touch my nose with my tongue and writing this blog entry.

I would still much rather be anywhere else than north America. Morocco would be ideal but any country outside this Continent would work, heck, put in Antarctica.

I am planning my wedding and finding out that I don't have the detailed mind that a bride should have... I don't give a f#$(%&)#%&) if the table cloths are white, off white or creme. Whatever is easier, looks good and cheaper. What are the Maid of honor and best man going to wear? I don't really care. Just put me down an aisle that runs towards Colin Friesen and I will be the happiest bride ever. * however I am super thankful for my parents and future in-laws for helping out and being great support and keeping us on track with planning

Me and Jesus? Well, its a lot of Jesus workin' but I be a slackin'. He keeps challenging me and I keep breaking and failing but I am determined to fail better cuz my God is worth failing for.

Well, I gotta a paper I should probably write before I sacrifice another year off my life due to stress.

Peace out

Phayth

Chili for breakfast

Well folks,

I wanted to wake up early today so i set my alarm for 8:30 (yes that is early for me...be jealous). When it violently woke me up, I started my daily war of waking up vs. sleeping in. I always gave in to sleeping in and I could feel myself slipping. I couldn't slip today; I had things that I needed too! But I was falling back asleep! I quickly went to the tv turned it on and watched I love lucy. It was only afterwards when I realized that I defeated the purpose of getting up early and actually wasted over 30 minutes of time.

I had chili and cornbread for breakfast today like at 9:30. I actually have milk this week so I could have had cereal.  I also had eggs that are going to go bad soon...but I choose left over chili and cornbread. I am still not sure why. Perhaps it is was the easiest thing to reach without moving things around in the refrigerator.

I also had some really strong coffee. The night before I made the coffee pot ready and put my alarm by it so when I wake up to a nasty alarm I could just turn on my coffee maker. However, there was a mishap and my coffee drainy thingy in my pot got clogged and the coffee sat in the top for 20 minutes with all of the grounds (so happy for my crazy good starbucks skills). I still proceeded to drink that coffee practically feeling the hair growing on my chest. It was kinda chunky with grounds too. I could have thrown it out and made a new pot...but I didn't.

So there I was in my PJ's thinking, "this morning could have been better". I could have gotten up and actually done something. I could have made an awesome egg and bagel breakfast (even though my fiance makes it much better) and good coffee. Do I have the spiritual gift of Laziness or what?

I know, I know, it is not a spiritual gift. It is more like a curse. If it requires any effort I avoid it like the plague.. BUTTTTTT maybe being the lazy is not the issue with my "I love lucy", chilli, and bad coffee morning. PERHAPS, it is because I am poor. I didn't want to have my chili go bad and didn't want to waste it (just forget what I said earlier about my eggs about to go bad) and I didn't want to waste coffee because everything is so bleepity bleep expensive here.... just don't mind the fact that I don't like coffee in the first place and hardly ever drink it. Now, maybe I can find a poor excuse for watching I love lucy (pun intended thank you very much)

okay, okay, I am lazy. well...I am poor too. I have had the humbling experience of getting crazy amounts of canned food from a church that I don't go to because I was on the list of poor people that church goers their knew and I count my pennies every morning hoping I have enough for the bus rather than trying to find a ride to school or worse.....biking. Man, Biking is so hard and it sucks especailly when it is cold and there is FREAKING SNOW OUTSIDE! oh wait, I am back to being lazy.

well, all of this to say... well nothing. I just wanted people to know that I had chili for breakfast and I didn't even fart today.

"I'll always use you"

I have this image of me laying down with my arms and legs spread out like a star on the Sahara sands. If I were able to move my head from facing the blaring sun I would only see dunes surrounding me. My sandy lips are screaming for water and my lungs are panting for more air. There is a castle near by, surrounded by water, in fact, I use to live there. All I needed was within that castle; I am royalty and the king longs for me. But alas, here I am. I lost my footing and ended up here.

For the past couple months, maybe even years, this is where my spiritual life has been. I know where I belong, but I feel dry and lost.

But my King is faithful. Here I am laying in the desert wondering where I will find my water and he speaks to me. He brings friends and conversations, images of his desire for the two of us, and he gives me hope that I am still his.

This happened today when a friend came by to chat and I realized that this week The Faithful One has taught me so much. He has spoken to me three random things, all that I needed to hear as I was saying them (in most cases, to someone else.)

1. If you live simply. that allows God to be shown even more glorious.
2. You'll never be the "Ideal Christian"so stop comparing yourself to impossible "idealized Christian" and set your eyes on Jesus, run towards him instead. He needs to be your goal.
3. Don't try to Separate God from school work but ask him to reveal himself to you through your learning, assignments and work.

I had a humbling moment when I realized how God spoke all these things through me. I knew as I was saying them that this is not coming from me (who is broken and weak) but from the spirit of my father that is still with me.

You may or may not agree with what I listed but I know that it was what I needed to hear to be encouraged and for my friend. Our conversation was a blessing to both of us (for she in turn uplifted me).

The point I am trying to make, my friends, is... "The one who calls you is faithful and he will do it." (1 thess 5:24) Praise him from where all blessing flow. He sustains us and pursues us even when we are surrounded by dunes blinded by the sun.

Sincerely,
The Desert Princess