As promised weeks ago...my testimony. It seems odd to me to say that because I kind of feel like I don't have a testimony...nothing special anyways. I didn't have this profound experience. I wasn't a drug user with an amazing conversion. I didn't have a near death experience that God used to draw me to Him. I can't remember the exact date or time that it happened. But, I do know there is a moment in my past and at that time I gave my life to Christ. And it wasn't all that long ago and I still struggle a lot with depending on Him and not trying to do it on my own (don't we all?).
If you would have asked me 10 years ago or even 5 years ago, I would have told you I was a christian. I mean I grew up going to church and my parents taught me right from wrong and even though I had done some bad things, I was an overall good person. I thought that's all it took...be good and go to heaven.
I couldn't have been more wrong, my doing and doing and doing was getting me nowhere and definitely wasn't helping give me peace about life and especially the new phase of motherhood I was in at the time.
Prior to getting married, I attended church with Joe and that was about it. We went to Sunday morning services, but beyond that I was not involved in any Bible Studies, didn't spend any personal time in The Word, etc. And after we were married and I was pregnant with Charlie, I went through the classes at church, converted and became a member of his church. Hindsight what it is, I know I was not making an informed decision, nor was I growing my relationship with Christ. I was not a believer at this point and none of those choices made me one. It was more of a head/logistical decision that I made that I thought would make us raising children together easier. Not the case at all, it has actually made it a lot harder, since I now question things that that particular denomination teaches.
The point...after Charlie was born, I struggled with this new motherhood thing. Nursing was not going well at all. I was stressed, overwhelmed and feeling like a failure because we (Charlie and I) just couldn't seem to come together and make it work.
I remember the day, Charlie was 5 weeks old. I had been pumping around the clock for weeks with one or two attempts at nursing each day that always seemed to end in us both crying and having a fit. I was exhausted and frustrated that I couldn't just make it work my way. I so thought this motherhood thing would be a walk in the park...funny right? I was sitting outside in the hammock swinging Charlie back and forth (We didn't know it yet, but she had huge issues with digesting dairy and was just cranky and miserable a lot and the only thing that made her happy was constant motion and we had to be outside). I was bawling and finally broke down and just begged and pleaded with God to help me...I was willing to do anything...anything.
It maybe sounds funny to someone who hasn't experienced something similar, but at that very moment I felt better, lighter and more capable of moving forward with parenting, marriage, everything. And guess what...Charlie starting nursing like a champ with in a couple of days and actually hated bottles from that point on. It helped Charlie and I's bonding, it helped my bonding with Christ and gave me confidence that I could do it...with His help of course.
God's grace and hope is so good and the impossible is not impossible for God!
“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)