God Blesses the Fiat

Today, for this day, Mary is young, unmarried and proclaiming her Fiat - all the while she is a mourning mother enduring the worst to honor that Fiat.

The whole arc, from carrying the Son of God and feeling him kick along her ribs to losing a teenager on a family pilgrimage to witnessing the final pilgrimage, bloody and beaten to the cross. 

It was all in that yes. All of the weight in those first words of trust and acceptance.  When she gave herself fully over to love, to the love of God for humanity, she held nothing back from it. 

That's what love is. Holding nothing back. Not stopping to cover and hide the vulnerable parts of your heart. 

In 2011, we were called to our own fiat. Early in our placement with Sweet Baby, someone asked me how we were guarding our hearts for the possibility she might leave. 

She said it with true, compassionate concern for our hearts, but I could only think to say, "we're not."  And we didn't, because that was our fiat. To dive into the deep end and trust that we wouldn't drown. 

Because we couldn't give her any less than all. Through the sleepless nights or infancy and all the highs and lows of the toddler years. All of it took all of us. 

After two and a half years, we were one hearing away from termination of parental rights....and then everything flipped, and we were suddenly in the process of separating our lives from hers. 

Watching her cry for us as she went away. Calling her a new name. Hearing her stop calling me Mom. And finally, being cut off from her completely. 

And then our heads went under the water, even as grace reached down to pull us through. We knew that's what our fiat could mean, but we didn't fully know the depth and breadth of it until we lived it. Until we walked our own road to Calvary. 

I didn't guard my heart, and it was destroyed. That heart was shattered, but in its place, grace grew a new one. 

Today, I think about the hardness of our story, and I think about the hardness of Mary's story, and I hope they both tell you the same story. 

The fiat is your whole self, it can be crushing, but ultimately, finally, it is the greatest story of your life.  And infinitely forever worth every tear. She was worthy of every tear.

All the Layers

 In January, my resolution was a commitment to health. To working on being the best version of me, mental health, emotional health, physical health. 

It's been like gathering pieces of a puzzle without quite knowing the picture...or even the number of pieces. 

My hormone numbers continue to look good with the intervention of bioidentical progesterone, low dose naltrexone was added to temper the hormonal mood swings and boost endorphins (best. thing. ever). 

All these steps and tests. Thyroid panel came back slightly off, but too close to normal for medicinal intervention. 

I'm waiting on glucose/insulin resistance test results, and hoping if there is a problem, it's easily remedied with intervention. 

In the meantime, I've started another journey.  Three weeks ago, I began a ketogenic diet with the blessing of my doctor and the support of a nutrition coach. 

The progress has been painstakingly slow....because three weeks...shouldn't I be done by now?!?! Such impatience. Much frustration. 

Still, the scale has been creeping down. And tonight I'm sitting just a few pounds above where I started before we lost our Sweet Baby.  

Over the last couple years, the layers of grief have enveloped me, and now, slowly slowly, I'm peeling them away. 

Looking forward more days than I look backwards. Dreaming new and different dreams again. 

A few pounds from here isn't my final milestone, but I'd wager it will be one of the most bittersweet.