Promise and Provision

In sixteen days, 2014 will be a closed chapter. History. I’ll be able to turn the page to a new year, and although it’s really just a day on the calendar, it does bring me hope and refreshment. It wasn’t until the past 365 days that I realized just how much a year could bring. And I’m done with 2014.

On the wall beside my desk at home, I have a piece of paper that hasn’t moved since January. It’s separated into two columns. On the left: my needs. On the right: God’s provision. It’s very black-and-white with no grey areas. When I wrote the left column, I was alone, six months pregnant, with no home, no money, no idea how to be a mother, very little desire to even be a mother, and faith the size of a mustard seed.

To be fair, I didn’t wake up in that situation. I made decisions I shouldn’t have, chose people I shouldn’t have, ignored others I shouldn’t have, and befriended my worst enemy.

I drew that line down the paper, waiting, hoping and praying for God to move. It’s December 15^th, and every blank space on the right is filled in. I found a small apartment for me and my daughter, furniture was given to or purchased for me, baby clothes and items overflowed my tiny living room, I was accepted back into school, my daughter was born with no complications, and I survived and succeeded this semester juggling work, school and a baby. There is so much to rejoice over.

This year I’ve also walked through some of the lowest valleys imaginable. Being pregnant alone is utterly miserable. Staying up nights alone, tending to every cry, every dirty diaper, every need to be held, every doctor appointment, every major decision, every fall, every spill, every midnight bottle, providing for her, alone, is beyond exhausting, physically and emotionally.

I’ve definitely cried in anger at the “unfairness” of it all. But I clung onto, and repeated incessantly one promise the Lord gave me early this year, in the midst of one of those “why is this happening” prayers with hot tears and lots of doubt:

“One day, this pain will be a DROP in the OCEAN of your joy.”

Can we all just take a minute and picture a literal drop of water in an ocean… it’s such a gentle, yet shocking response, when you feel like the hurt is swallowing you whole. It’s been my life raft when I’m tempted to write my situation off as hopeless. God promised. Don’t give up. He promised.

Everything is still so difficult, but I made it. One baby and successful year of school later, I made it! In 2015, I’m ready to celebrate baby girl turning 1, my graduation, and new beginnings.  

He is so faithful.

It is Beautiful

I spent the better part of today sorting through my daughter's tiny clothes, most of which are now TOO tiny for her. She's growing ridiculously fast and I don't have sufficient time to really let anything sink in. Packing away all of her newborn clothes was pretty emotional for me, and at this point in motherhood, I don't even try to hold back tears anymore. Anything can set me off, really. I'm pretty sure I shed a tear at work the other day because I found one of her socks in the bottom of my purse. 

She's officially three months old and just when I think I can't possibly love her more than I already do, she learns something new, smiles when I walk into the room, laughs when I tickle her, and my heart explodes. 

I am convinced that her birth, even though in the midst of difficult and trying circumstances, was SO timely in my own life, and definitely the Lord hedging me in, slaying and healing my heart all at once. Lately, I have been earnestly praying for a solid, secure, true, deep, rich and unshakable foundation, with an identity rooted in Him. I'm definitely a black-and-white, "bullet-point" kind of person, so grasping how to practically integrate this into my life isn't easy for me. I think the basic, deepest level that is imperative to have is the knowledge that Jesus loves me, unconditionally, fiercely, jealously... and to believe it. This season is me scratching everything and starting over. Learning to trust and love and enjoy and receive and walk again. 

So as I sat there, sorting her clothes, I came across a few dresses that she won't be able to wear for at least a year. I looked at them and tried to imagine her in them, walking and talking by then, wondering what she will be like, look like, and I thought about how grown up she will be and how absolutely BEAUTIFUL she will be wearing them. 

And then there it was. That voice of truth that comes to you, from outside yourself and so far beyond anything you could conjure up on your own:

"I feel the same about you. But those dresses are your dreams, your purpose, your talents, your love for Me, your future, your righteousness. I don't have to wonder. I can see it. And it is beautiful on you." 

I am not a theologian or bible scholar by any stretch of the imagination, and I know that Jesus loves us the same, always, unconditionally. But some part of me thinks that there is something that erupts in His own heart the moment we choose Him, choose to love, and choose to walk out our purpose. 

I am a broken, limited, sinful human, but my heart overflows with love for my daughter, with depths I have yet to discover, for another limited human. 

But Jesus.

How He must be overcome when we put on this love, and it fits. Look how she chooses Me, or how he loves Me, how they trust Me, it is BEAUTIFUL on them! 

God that we would love You more.

"Let us rejoice and be glad and give the glory to Him, for the marriage of the Lamb has come and His bride has made herself ready. It was given to her to clothe herself in fine linen, bright and clean; for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints." - Revelation 19:8

Eliana Julene Orosco

Over the past few months, I think I’ve visited every baby name site known to man, and reread all 75,000 names in my hastily purchased ‘Best Baby Names for the 21^st Century’ book, at least twice. I thoroughly believe in the importance of the meaning of a name, which was a definite “make or break” factor in the process. Then of course was the (hopefully) normal fear that comes upon anyone responsible for deciding a permanent name of another human being that they will carry around for their entire life. It’s daunting.

In the midst of all of my over-thinking, this name seemed to settle itself on me. Eliana means “God has answered.” I love this. This simple, yet resolute declaration. I wholeheartedly believe in the blessing and hope she brings, even when I can only feel her moving and kicking inside (usually in the middle of the night, when I’ve finally constructed the perfect pillow placement to support all my aching muscles).

He has answered. He has answered my every need, desperate cry for help, for a clue, for strength, peace, comfort and grace to keep all else dim in the light of who He is. Sure, I still wake up most days completely overwhelmed and scared, wondering how to support her alone, how to be the only one changing diapers and waking up with her every night, wishing she had a father, and regretting most of the decisions I’ve made up to this point. Except my decision to choose life and choose Jesus. But He answers. Every time. I want this truth to resound in my life and hers, to teach her to rest and live in this.

So, Eliana it is! Full name: Eliana Julene Orosco, for those wondering. Middle name graciously passed down from grandma :) And feel free to call her Ellie, because that’s just adorable.