When brokenness is all around us, can we still be content? Through Christ, we can.
“My beautiful daughter was born almost a year ago. When I look at her, I feel the immense joy that comes from parenting a little one so dependent on me, a reminder of my dependence on Jesus alone. However, my joy in parenting did not come quickly or easily.
Within a few days of my daughter’s birth, I knew something was very wrong with me. I felt far away from everyone around me, even the baby I nursed and rocked gently in my arms. Postpartum depression, anxiety, and panic attacks struck me hard and fast.
I felt lost in a lonely world without warmth or joy.
During a Bible study on the book of Romans, a friend reminded me sin affects every area of our lives. My brain went haywire not because of personal weakness, but because we’re fallen people living in a fallen world in desperate need of a Savior.
God faithfully reminded me the world can’t and won’t be perfect. But God makes his presence known in the darkest places because he is the God of light, and his salvation through Jesus shines brighter than any dark place our bodies and minds bring us.
We serve a great God who sees time from the very beginning to the very end. Even the most hidden thoughts of my heart—those scary, terrifying, anxious thoughts—are under God’s mighty and compassionate care. God can still the racing thoughts of our hearts, and heal every recess of our broken minds. We know Jesus will return and establish his kingdom over all the earth, and the world will be beautiful, whole, and perfect forever.
No matter how motherhood challenges you, Jesus will shine light into your darkness and pull you out of the pit in which you are faltering—with strength, power, and the tender care of a mom holding her baby in her arms for the first time.”
Today’s article from Hannah Abrahamson discusses PPD. While we believe the gospel provides hope to women suffering from PPD, this topic requires sensitivity. We encourage anyone who is experiencing PPD to seek additional counsel from a trusted pastor, licensed counselor, or medical doctor.
It took me 14 months and a second pregnancy to admit I had a traumatic birth. Nearly a year and a half later, I finally realized what had been hovering over my shoulder like a black cloud, a haze enveloping me ever since the birth of my first...
I think our deepest fears are faced when we experience trauma. In the moments between my body beginning contractions and finally meeting my son, I came the closest to my mortality as a person I had ever been. Traumatic births bring the fragility of our existence front and center...
But there is hope. Coming to us through the very same process we are struggling through, the very process God cursed: Mary carried Christ for nine months, laboring, groaning, and finally delivering our redeemer in a barn.
God used the curse, to break the curse.
The birth of our babies—especially our first—is supposed to be magical. We expect a quick rebound from what’s often the most physically challenging experience in our lives. Messages fired at us on television, through the internet, and on social media aim to convince us: once we embrace our child for the first time, we’ll float our way through bliss.
What if our stories are different?
My first encounter with childbirth, for example, left me feeling as if I’d been tossed into a furnace.
I suffered, but I didn’t despair. Why not? I credit the hand of God. From the abundance of baby meals sent by friends and family, to the compassionate care of my OB, to the willingness of many to listen as I retold the story of my traumatic birth—I was cared for. The Lord met me in my furnace.
Through the fire, I had my clearest-yet view of Christ. I saw and felt his dedication to me. I learned to trust him not just day-by-day, but moment-to-moment. Postpartum depression slowed me down. I learned to savor the good moments.
"The fog of physical exhaustion, emotional weariness, and feelings of constant failure didn’t lift for at least the first year... I simply wasn’t myself; I felt like a hollow shell of a person. I didn’t enjoy being around people, was increasingly short-tempered...The difference was Postpartum Depression...
For those of you in the throws of PPD...You can rest. It isn’t solely up to you to fix yourself - physically, emotionally, or spiritually. Healing takes time. But as you wait, know God is working on your behalf...
By God’s grace, you can be honest with your husband, open with friends, and seek the counsel of medical professionals, boasting all the more gladly of your weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon you.
Postpartum depression can’t separate you from the love of God, friend (Romans 8:39). Because of the reconciling power of the gospel for believers, “The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing” (Zephaniah 3:17).
Even when you’re hurting, trust the gospel’s prescription for your heart and the healing comfort of his nearness."
October is pregnancy and infant loss awareness month and we at Risen Motherhood want to recognize all of you who have lost a child too soon. Below you'll find a selection of articles, posts, music and podcasts that we pray encourages a mom in the midst of grief. Just click on the links at the bottom of each quote to go to the original source.
Gaining and losing nearly 140 lbs. in the span of four years, well, that'll do a number on your body.
After every baby, at about four weeks post-partum, I've looked longly at my pre-baby jeans and wondered why I ever thought I wasn't skinny enough. I looked at the width of the leg opening, the number on the tag and I prayed that, 1) someday I'd fit into them again, and 2) if I do, that I'd actually appreciate it and love my body for it.