A young man asked his grandfather why life had to be so difficult sometimes. This was the old man’s reply.
Grandfather says this: “In life, there is sadness as well as joy, losing as well as winning, falling as well as standing, hunger as well as plenty, badness as well as goodness. I do not say this to make you despair, but to teach you reality. Life is a journey sometimes walked in light, sometimes in shadow.”
Grandfather says this: “You did not ask to be born, but you are here. You have weaknesses as well as strengths. You have both because in life there is two of everything. Within you is the will to win, as well as the willingness to lose. Within you is the heart to feel compassion as well as the smallness to be arrogant. Within you is the way to face life as well as fear to turn away from it.”
Grandfather says this: “Life can give you strength. Strength can come from facing the storms of life, from knowing loss, feeling sadness and heartache, from falling into the depths of grief. You must stand up in the storm. You must face the wind and the cold and the darkness. When the storm blows hard you must stand firm, for it is not trying to knock you down, it is really trying to teach you to be strong.”
Grandfather says this: “Being strong means taking one more step toward to top of the hill, no matter how weary you may be. It means letting tears flow through the grief. It means to keep looking for the answer, though the darkness of despair is all around you. Being strong means to cling to hope for one more heartbeat, one more sunrise. Each step, no matter how difficult, is one more step closer to the top of the hill. To keep hope alive for one more heartbeat at a time leads to the light of the next sunrise, and the promise of a new day.
Grandfather says this: “The weakest step toward the top of the hill, toward sunrise, toward hope, is stronger than the fiercest storm.”
Grandfather says this: “Keep going.”
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In April of 2012 my life changed forever.
I was touched deeply by a birth. The births of my own children have always facilitated change in my life. With my first child I had to adjust to the title "mommy" and all that title implies. With my second child I learned that I had strength that I did not know existed. With my third physical birth my relationship with my husband was reborn and we found ourselves on the road to healing. My forth birth brought two babies and a world I did not recognize. It was the beginning of doing things differently. I morned the changes but I have learned to find great joy in the unexpected blessings. Unexpected has become the theme of my life. April 2012 fits right in to my puzzle of unexpected pieces. I have always loved babies. As an adult, after three births of my own, I found myself in love with the birthing process. I love reading about it, I love knowing the latest statistics, I love talking about birth, I love the empowerment that can come to new parents as they joyfully/terrifyingly welcome a new child in to their lives. The emotions are raw and real. The drapes of pretense and social expectations are thrown to the side as a mother risks everything to bring forth new life. Risks and statistics are the language of medicine. A laboring mother feels with her heart, relies on her body, and lets go. April 2012 I was blessed with the sacred honor to watch this process unfold for another mother. I can't even remember how the string of events began. The mom was a friendly acquaintance (I knew the father better) who was attempting a vaginal birth after two cesarean births. I know the value of support and offered mine to her. I honestly didn't think she would follow through. It is kind of weird to have some random person offer to help you through such an intimate moment. Sometimes I am so random I shock myself! The beautiful thing is that sometimes my random offers are actually promptings from a kind Heavenly Father. I think this was one of those times. What shocked me more than my own random offer was the parents' call on their way to the hospital. I rushed around like it was my own baby coming and got to the hospital and waited for the second call. I tried to read Ben Hur in the waiting room (What kind of novice takes Ben Hur to a birth? Me, that's who.) but I could not hold still. I walked around outside and then got the feeling that maybe mom was feeling an intensity that prevented her from calling me. I called the father, through a whole series of events that I won't detail here because they truly show my lack of repose, and hopped right up to labor and delivery. Through the sacred experience of helping those parents welcome a son into their lives my life course was altered forever. Maybe altered is the wrong word. No, I was not altered, but the focus on my life was zoomed in and a plan that I was being prepared for all along was illuminated. I will always be grateful for that family trusting me with their sacred experience. I will always be grateful for a Heavenly Father who trusted me enough to use me as His hands despite all of my inadequacies. I am by no means perfect. Not even a little bit. But I do try to listen to the Lord and move as he would have me do. April 2012 was the first birth on my path to becoming a doula and childbirth mentor. That was a day I was reborn. | AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |
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