My Obligatory Duck Dynasty Post

So I woke up to a wicked crap-storm of arguing about Phil Robertson on my news feed this morning.

Since every numbskull in America had an opinion, coupled with the fact that I'm in a terribe mood, I figured I should share my view as well. 

It's absolutely no secret that I could give a crap less about who sleeps with who as long as they're in a committed, loving relationship. I've been very blunt about that in the past. 

It's also not a secret that I love the people of Duck Dynasty. I've also been blunt about that. 

So here I sit trying to decide how I feel about it all. 

It's no surprise to me that Phil Robertson had his opinion on homosexuality.  Like, no surprise at all. What DID surprise me was how crass Phil made his opinion sound when he put it out to the world. 

Putting the whole "a sin is a sin" thing to the side, let's look at the fact that he lumped homosexuality in with beastiality. 

These, in my opinion, are nothing in the same.

 "But, Heather! They're both so perverse!", you say. 

I know heterosexual couples who could put the most seasoned hookers to shame with how perverse they are in their bedroom. 

Shall we lump them in with bestiality? 

"But, Heather! They're SINNING!"

Okay,  I'm not of any authority (and get off your pedestal, cause neither are you) to go around pointing fingers at what is sin and what isn't because I live and sin EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. 

I am not perfect and neither are you, so we should leave it up to The One who is Perfect, yes? 

"But, Heather! I'm saving their eternal lives! I'm saving them from going wayward!" 

I've said it time and time again, it's my job to focus on a person's salvation, not their sin. As a Christian I am to witness to others about Jesus and God. 

Let's break that down. 

Witness to others about God... To me, this means I am to experience miracles and blessings in my life and then share with others what I have WITNESSED to show them proof that in my life, God has made a huge difference. 

Does sin-shaming fall anywhere in that category?

That's a big, profound NOPE. 

Okay, okay. Stepping off my soapbox here. 

Put yourself in their shoes. Like, really. Really, really think about how you would feel as you were scrolling through your feed and saw people you loved and people who were your friends, rabidly telling the world they think that you were the very same as murders, child rapists, etc. 

I simply couldn't stomach myself if I treated someone else that way. I would be ashamed. 

But, hey, that's just me. 

As far as Duck Dynasty goes, I'll continue watching, I'll continue liking the family, just like I continue to love you all, regardless of the fact that I disagree with you sometimes. 

Here's where I should insert some wonderful clincher about how we should examine ourselves and love one another, but I feel it may be wasteful. So I'm just stopping... Now. 

A brand new day

Today is a new day.

Yesterday I let the world know that our family lost another child. 

Yesterday was hard. I had moments where I cried. But as the day went on, I felt stronger. I actually laughed. 

 I felt guilty in the moments that I laughed. 

Who laughs the day after a miscarriage?

I do. 

Like I said previously, this was our fifth miscarriage. We've been here before. It doesn't make it any easier. At all. 

However, this means that I've grieved this situation four previous times. 

I've questioned God, been angry with Him, angry with myself, sad, guilty, basically the whole mish-mash of emotion that come with miscarriage. 

I'm also nearing 28, which mean I've had 28 years to get to know myself. 

One thing that I've learned about myself is that I crack jokes and make others and myself laugh when troubled times engulf us. 

When my grandma was dying I giggled when I remembered how she made me peel the wallpaper off her bathroom wall because it looked like a demon. 

When my grandpa was hospitalized, I was cracking jokes with my cousins while standing beside him. 

After my grandad passed away, my sister and I laughed roariously when we kept finding his multiple cigarette pack stashes. He was sneaky!

All of these examples are extremely innapropriate. I know this. However, I will let you cry if you let me laugh. 

This is how I move on. I feel that sadness is completely normal. I'm sad when I laugh. But laughter makes things seem normal again. It's like music to me. The people that we lose don't want us to be sad forever. 

When I die, I expect you all to wail and cry during my funeral because I'm a drama queen and like the attention. But the second you sit your butts down to nosh all of that glorious post-funeral food that the south is known for, I expect you all to tell the most embarrassing stories about me. I won't haunt you for it. 

Promise. 

My point in all of this is that life moves on. I can choose to move with it or stay stagnant. 

Which kind of water is prettier? 

The kind that is sitting still, algae covered, with Shrek  holed up in the middle? 

Or the clear water that flows through the twists and turns, overcoming rocks and logs in its way?

 I know which I choose. 

I still hurt. 

I still cry. 

I still laugh. 

I still breathe, though it's hard sometimes.

I still live. 

Living is important. It's more than your body continuing to function. 

It's Experiencing. 

I've been laughing with my two kiddos this morning and it's healed me so much. I have life to experience. 

And quite frankly, I just don't want to be sad. 

So if you see me acting normal and laughing, please don't think of me as cold. It's me healing. Respect it please. 

Miscarriage

My friends, last week my husband and I received the joyous news that we were pregnant again.

We were excited and terrified. We had decided earlier this year that our family was complete, so we sold all of our baby and maternity stuff. When we found out the news, we giddily thought of all the things we needed in just 9 short months. 

A month ago, we confessed to each other, that despite our having sold all of our baby possessions, and the fact that all bedrooms in our home are filled already, we both longed for another baby. 

Fast forward to last week. We couldn't believe that we had gotten pregnant that fast. It must have been in God's plan for us since we got pregnant so quickly. I, of course, was worried because we've had four miscarriages, but for some reason, I felt good about this pregnancy. 

Last night, we lost the baby. 

I couldn't even tell Josh. I gave him "the look" and almost burst into tears. I holed up in the bedroom the rest of the night. 

Guilt consumed me. My body failed my baby and I was the sole reason my husband's heart was broken. 

Me. 

I'm the only one responsible. 

Of course I know I did nothing wrong. I know that it was out of my control. 

But was it?

I chose to chance this heart break. I convinced my husband that everything would be fine. 

I lied. 

He was angry. 

Not because he's a douchebag, but because he had to feel. Feeling isn't his forte, and he had lots of feels last night. I was broken and he was broken and he couldn't fix either of us. So all he could feel was anger. 

Of course I was angry at him for being angry. 

But then, something beautiful happened. 

I prayed for peace for both of us. 

I couldn't pray for anything else really. 

Suddenly, the situation was put in perspective and I was able to see Josh's side of things. 

When a pregnant woman miscarries, everyone is sad for her and worried for her, as they damn well ought to be. 

However, people forget that the husband loses a child as well. He is most often forgotten and pushed to the side. 

His heart is broken, yet he has to "remain strong" for his wife as he helps her body heal. He has to cheer her up while he's dying a little inside. 

I was being selfish last night. I expected total sympathy and comfort from him, but wasn't willing to return it. 

I was floored at this revelation. 

I sent him a text because I couldn't talk without crying. 

I told him I loved him and that I would help him through this however he needed me to. 

About an hour later he came in and we just held each other. We said nothing. 

He needed to be remembered.

 He needed to be comforted. 

Men like to be strong, but no one expects them to be strong when they lose a child. 

As for me, I have my moments where I mourn for what could have been here on earth. 

But you know what? My baby never had to live in this broken world. 

He or she got to go straight to a Perfect world. 

How amazing is that?

Please keep us in your prayers as we heal. 

Thanks, y'all. 

Monster Mom

Yesterday was a rough day between parents and kids at our home. 

It was one of those days where you can see yourself becoming a train wreck, yet you can't stop yourself. 

Then you go to bed feeling upset, embarrassed, and guilty.  

This morning I read an entire parenting bible plan in 10 minutes and every single verse hit me in my gut. Especially:  

"Love is always supportive, loyal, hopeful and trusting."

Wow. Gut punch. 

I was tearing my children down, betraying their trust in their mom. I was doubtful of their future, and broke any trust they had in me. 

Today is going to be different. Bad habits are hard to break, but breaking this one is crucial. 

I tell you all this embarrassing behavior because I absolutely know I'm not alone. Some days we feel like we're drowning. Some days we feel like we're making mistakes left and right as parents. Some days it feels as though we're losing a war in our homes. 

Parents, we are. 

There is nothing more satisfying to evil than to see families at war with each other. 

The change in our families starts with us. 

I could sit here and preach all day, but I may be the worst offender out there. I will fail some days, but the important thing is that I try. 

Try with me will you, friends?

Our kids have a lifetime to hear what's wrong with them. They'll learn about the cruelty in the world soon enough. Let's create a haven at home for them where they feel safe to talk and express their feelings. 

Challenge yourselves. Challenge your spouse. Challenge your children. 

Because at the end of the day when things get hard, it's your family against the world.