I was not popular in high school. I wasn't UNpopular but I certainly wasn't popular. My graduating high school class had 535 people in it. I was a number. Not particularly known one way or the other. The first year was particularly difficult for me. First, I was a girl in high school which isn't an easy feat regardless of your station. Then it was a brand new school and I didn't know anyone. I was going through an awkward phase (I have pictures to prove it). And my parents were recently divorced, and my brother and I lived with my newly working mom in, well, lower lower middle class. It was a challenging time. One I've never written about and one I don't plan to write about for a while. But I wanted to provide a bit of background so you could appreciate how a particular statement resonated with me last night.
As you may know from a previous blog entry, I have a couple of television guilty pleasures. And I do mean guilty. They are not intellectually stimulating or growth inspiring to my faith. They are guilty pleasures. Ones I have no mind to abdicate at this time. Surely, eventually, they'll die a television death, and then they'll be gone and I won't replace them. On a recent episode of one show, a girl was on a date with a boy who liked her very much. He was sharing how, even though he is very smart and well-educated NOW, he didn't do particularly well in high school because he was unpopular. As he wisely stated, social standing can play out academically. They went on talking about other topics and he said something so entirely funny and smart and romantic. She took his hands, and looked him straight in the eyes, and said, "You are like no other guy I know. The people who said you were unpopular, whoever made you feel unpopular when you were younger, they're stupid."
Did you hear that? Whoever made a negative commentary about who you are and your worth and your value and what a treasure you are, they are stupid. They don't know what they're talking about. You are precious and wonderful and should be the most popular person in the whole world. I have to tell you, the look in his eyes when she uttered those words made me cry. It almost made him cry. It's like she took years of this pain, this worthless label he'd worn as a brand, and she patched over it with worth. The brand won't ever be gone, but a beautiful person whom he valued told him those people didn't know what they were saying and I think you are amazing.
I am not a huge advocate of calling people stupid, but I have never heard the word used more appropriately. They are stupid. People who decide, for whatever insecure reasons, to meanly make judgments on who deserves to be popular and unpopular are stupid. I have nieces who are teenagers and I saw this play out just two weeks ago as one got verbally abused by some mean-spirited teens - so much so that it left her in tears and her spirit crushed. It's heart wrenching if you are the unpopular kid. And it stays with you for life. My husband went through it. I went through it. This guy on television illustrated how much damage it can do - here he was 13 years later still desperately longing to hear those people were wrong.
If you endured this, and you don't have someone right now to tell you that those people were stupid, then let me speak those words to you today. They were stupid. They didn't know what they were talking about. You are beautiful or handsome. You have so much value. You are precious and such a wonderful addition to our world. They said those things out of very painful insecurities of their own not realizing the lasting pain it would cause you and not even believing what they said. So if you can, release a piece of that pain today. And another piece tomorrow. Each day come read this last paragraph and know that you are wonderful and any negative worthless labels that were given to you in elementary school or middle school or high school or college or at your office are not true. They are lies. The truth is that you are precious.
Isaiah 43 - For I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior...you are precious and honored in my sight, and I love you....
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Our Story: Part 6, THREE
So there we were, that Saturday afternoon, finally pregnant. Or so our three pregnancy tests said. I wanted confirmation. Real medical feedback. So off I went Monday morning to get my blood work done with Dr. C. They said they'd call back Monday afternoon. I was in meetings but had my cell phone on vibrate because I did NOT want to miss that call. My hCG levels were supposed to be between 50 and 100. They called at 4:30 & I stepped outside to talk. They said, "Well, Mrs. Vincent, you ARE pregnant. Very pregnant. Your hCG levels are 408." I was trying to process both pieces of news, "That's high, right?," I managed to respond. "Yes, we think you're having twins. Or even triplets." The way this news came out in my head, I think there was a lot of other information provided, because I came home that night and told Bray that the odds somehow shook out like 65% twins, 25% triplets, 10% singleton. I'm confident no one gave me numbers, but that is how I translated it. We were both elated at the idea of having twins because it would mean our child would have a sibling which we so desperately wanted (and did not want to go through fertility treatments again). Triplets never seemed real at that time. {Plus, two of my friends who recently had undergone fertility treatments had twins.}
For the next couple of weeks I had to go in every other day to make sure my hCG levels kept doubling. So that Wednesday, they didn't double. I found this email I sent my college roommate, the only person I'd talked to through this whole process, and one of those who had so encouraged me during this struggle:
"hey there, just a quick prayer request if you have time. we got the results of our second set of blood work today & the hcg levels did not double as they expected. the doctor actually believes this is good news, that it may indicate that initially all three embryos took hold and this reflects that one has now let go. i'm trying not to read anything more into it or spend all afternoon on the web deciphering what the implications are if your hcg levels don't double. i go back friday & they expect them to double then. monday was 408. today was 640. still high (and still increasing). would you pray they see at least 1200 on friday? i'm perfectly happy with God choosing how many babies we're supposed to have, but i do pray that the pregnancy progresses and stays healthy. you're my only friend who knows, so i'd really appreciate help praying over these wee ones. thank you!"
Two days later, the Friday after the initial Monday test, this is what I wrote her:
"Thank you for praying. All week I've just been praying, "Trust in the Lord with all of your heart and lean NOT ON YOUR OWN understanding........." The nurse said they wanted the level to be between 1200 & 1600 & it was 1400 - could you get anymore perfect? Only if you're God. I'm just so happy and kept saying, I believe Father, please help my unbelief........ I'm still human but this process is teaching me trust at each step."
This process continued for a little over a week. At 6 weeks I was allowed an ultrasound so we'd know for sure. They wanted to schedule it for April 1st - I said, "No thanks, I'll never believe if it's an April Fool's joke or not." So in we went on March 31st to have the very first ultrasound. I still have the picture. Dr. C had a place on the screen to put information for two babies in case it was in fact twins. So off he goes, pressing that little wand down on my stomach like I'd seen a million times in movies. He told us not to panic if we didn't hear heartbeats, it was still early. But then, thump thump thump, we heard a little heartbeat and saw it pulse on the fuzzy black and white screen. We were both elated. He kept moving that wand around to see what else was there before he started taking measurements. When out of the blue he said, "Oh, there's three." I have to tell you, my initial reaction was complete joy. I had felt since the moment of the transfer that these were all mine. I had never felt that with the prior transfers. I just felt like they were all hanging in there. But then I looked over and Bray went sheet white and put his head in his hands. You could tell he was not only surprised but completely terrified over the news. We finished the heartbeat listening and picture taking, and then Dr. C met with us in the adjacent room. He could tell that Bray was not prepared for this news. He asked us to consider reduction (one of several times this option was raised). Bray and I had said from the beginning, when we knew this was even a remote possibility, we would rather have three than zero, and our faith would never allow us to mess around with what God chose to give us. He gave us some additional information, statistics about multiple pregnancies (which weren't pretty), and a referral to a high risk doctor. We left the doctor's office and drove to dinner (we don't eat out much but now that I was on alert that I'd need a lot of calories, popcorn and cereal would not cut it). I remember him looking completely overwhelmed and stressed out. I was trying not to be overjoyed because clearly the prospect was frightening for him (it should have been more so for me). I remember him saying, "I'm not upset. I'm okay. I'm just worried. About the babies health. About your health. About the money...." I called my parents that night to share the news. He had to take a little longer, he couldn't even talk about it for 24 hours.
The next day, this is the email I sent to my sweet college roomie and our suitemate (who luckily lived nowhere near me and were Godly women I could trust to pray without anyone knowing the news which we weren't ready to share yet):
"Ladies,
What a joy, and funny twist of events, that the two women I'm getting to share my early joys with this month are also those who I've known now for over 1/2 my life! I so appreciate your sweet prayers & excitement as I've been bursting to run the hall with the news. I have an update and a prayer request. We went to the doctor yesterday afternoon and the babies look good & are on target with those of a singleton. We got to hear their strong heartbeats, which is so incredible to me, since they're not even 1/2 inch long yet. God's miracles! You may have noticed the plural - the big surprise is that there were three sets of those strong heartbeats. I'm excited, but Bray is overwhelmed. So if I could ask for three prayers when you get time:
1. Bray - he's so overwhelmed, he's almost shut down. He's worried about health, money, etc., all the things our strong provider husbands are supposed to be looking after. But I don't want it to so consume him that we can't enjoy the pregnancy.
2. The babies - right now they look good, though one is a couple of days behind the others, and one has a smaller sack that the others. I have to go in every week to be monitored and I'd just pray that they'd all stay equal in size and in their rooms.
3. My term - The doctors want to get me to 30 -32 weeks. Some triplets have even gone as far as 33 - 34. Obviously, the longer they cook, the healthier they are. My due date would have been Nov. 22nd & now the goal is to get me to the end of September. Pray that everything I do (nutrition, work, etc.) would all be focused on getting these babies to "term."
I am excited. I'm reeling a little bit at the logistics but for right now I'm just going to enjoy God's many blessings and trust Him to keep them in His care.
I cherish you both & thank you for sharing this with me,
Gindi"
For the next couple of weeks I had to go in every other day to make sure my hCG levels kept doubling. So that Wednesday, they didn't double. I found this email I sent my college roommate, the only person I'd talked to through this whole process, and one of those who had so encouraged me during this struggle:
"hey there, just a quick prayer request if you have time. we got the results of our second set of blood work today & the hcg levels did not double as they expected. the doctor actually believes this is good news, that it may indicate that initially all three embryos took hold and this reflects that one has now let go. i'm trying not to read anything more into it or spend all afternoon on the web deciphering what the implications are if your hcg levels don't double. i go back friday & they expect them to double then. monday was 408. today was 640. still high (and still increasing). would you pray they see at least 1200 on friday? i'm perfectly happy with God choosing how many babies we're supposed to have, but i do pray that the pregnancy progresses and stays healthy. you're my only friend who knows, so i'd really appreciate help praying over these wee ones. thank you!"
Two days later, the Friday after the initial Monday test, this is what I wrote her:
"Thank you for praying. All week I've just been praying, "Trust in the Lord with all of your heart and lean NOT ON YOUR OWN understanding........." The nurse said they wanted the level to be between 1200 & 1600 & it was 1400 - could you get anymore perfect? Only if you're God. I'm just so happy and kept saying, I believe Father, please help my unbelief........ I'm still human but this process is teaching me trust at each step."
This process continued for a little over a week. At 6 weeks I was allowed an ultrasound so we'd know for sure. They wanted to schedule it for April 1st - I said, "No thanks, I'll never believe if it's an April Fool's joke or not." So in we went on March 31st to have the very first ultrasound. I still have the picture. Dr. C had a place on the screen to put information for two babies in case it was in fact twins. So off he goes, pressing that little wand down on my stomach like I'd seen a million times in movies. He told us not to panic if we didn't hear heartbeats, it was still early. But then, thump thump thump, we heard a little heartbeat and saw it pulse on the fuzzy black and white screen. We were both elated. He kept moving that wand around to see what else was there before he started taking measurements. When out of the blue he said, "Oh, there's three." I have to tell you, my initial reaction was complete joy. I had felt since the moment of the transfer that these were all mine. I had never felt that with the prior transfers. I just felt like they were all hanging in there. But then I looked over and Bray went sheet white and put his head in his hands. You could tell he was not only surprised but completely terrified over the news. We finished the heartbeat listening and picture taking, and then Dr. C met with us in the adjacent room. He could tell that Bray was not prepared for this news. He asked us to consider reduction (one of several times this option was raised). Bray and I had said from the beginning, when we knew this was even a remote possibility, we would rather have three than zero, and our faith would never allow us to mess around with what God chose to give us. He gave us some additional information, statistics about multiple pregnancies (which weren't pretty), and a referral to a high risk doctor. We left the doctor's office and drove to dinner (we don't eat out much but now that I was on alert that I'd need a lot of calories, popcorn and cereal would not cut it). I remember him looking completely overwhelmed and stressed out. I was trying not to be overjoyed because clearly the prospect was frightening for him (it should have been more so for me). I remember him saying, "I'm not upset. I'm okay. I'm just worried. About the babies health. About your health. About the money...." I called my parents that night to share the news. He had to take a little longer, he couldn't even talk about it for 24 hours.
The next day, this is the email I sent to my sweet college roomie and our suitemate (who luckily lived nowhere near me and were Godly women I could trust to pray without anyone knowing the news which we weren't ready to share yet):
"Ladies,
What a joy, and funny twist of events, that the two women I'm getting to share my early joys with this month are also those who I've known now for over 1/2 my life! I so appreciate your sweet prayers & excitement as I've been bursting to run the hall with the news. I have an update and a prayer request. We went to the doctor yesterday afternoon and the babies look good & are on target with those of a singleton. We got to hear their strong heartbeats, which is so incredible to me, since they're not even 1/2 inch long yet. God's miracles! You may have noticed the plural - the big surprise is that there were three sets of those strong heartbeats. I'm excited, but Bray is overwhelmed. So if I could ask for three prayers when you get time:
1. Bray - he's so overwhelmed, he's almost shut down. He's worried about health, money, etc., all the things our strong provider husbands are supposed to be looking after. But I don't want it to so consume him that we can't enjoy the pregnancy.
2. The babies - right now they look good, though one is a couple of days behind the others, and one has a smaller sack that the others. I have to go in every week to be monitored and I'd just pray that they'd all stay equal in size and in their rooms.
3. My term - The doctors want to get me to 30 -32 weeks. Some triplets have even gone as far as 33 - 34. Obviously, the longer they cook, the healthier they are. My due date would have been Nov. 22nd & now the goal is to get me to the end of September. Pray that everything I do (nutrition, work, etc.) would all be focused on getting these babies to "term."
I am excited. I'm reeling a little bit at the logistics but for right now I'm just going to enjoy God's many blessings and trust Him to keep them in His care.
I cherish you both & thank you for sharing this with me,
Gindi"
Friday, July 15, 2011
Benediction (from Pastor Doug)
It's been a hard few weeks. Long days at work. Very fussy kids because of the latest round of teething. Some general discontent. And I am tired and frustrated. I think it shows. Then my pastor sent out his weekly email which contained the closing benediction he gives every week. And those precious words washed over my weary soul. If you need a sweet benediction today, in the midst of drama or discontent, I hope sharing Pastor Doug's words calm your spirit:
May the living Lord Jesus Christ go with you.
May He go above you to watch over you,
Behind you to encourage you,
Beside you to befriend you,
Within you to give you peace and
Before you to show you His way
Now and forevermore.
May the living Lord Jesus Christ go with you.
May He go above you to watch over you,
Behind you to encourage you,
Beside you to befriend you,
Within you to give you peace and
Before you to show you His way
Now and forevermore.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Tire Tracks
Today, I got thrown under the bus. By a friend. And I'm walking around with the tire tracks imprinted on my soul. As a result of her action, I got chewed out at work by someone senior. And I have to say, I really don't get chewed out. I'm generally well liked and considered a good attorney who does a thorough job. So this bus throwing business, and the repercussions, really caught me off guard.
I am sure there are people who take criticism better than I do. I'm actually confident of that fact. I take everything rather personally and I've been known to get defensive. Which is exactly what I did. I reacted in a way that could be much improved upon now that I reflect. In addition to not reacting particularly well to the bus-throwing/chewing out, I went a step further. I did a little smack talking. I called my mom and told her about this incident by a person I'd now labeled untrustworthy/disloyal (I'm big on loyalty). Then I went outside my office and complained to my assistant who I assure you has some serious crises going on in her own life and this must have seemed so incredibly trivial. I goofed off on the computer for a few minutes because I couldn't get refocused on my work. In total, this one act completely knocked me off my game and created some behaviors that are the anti-thesis of Christ-like.
In retrospect, I have to ask myself why it so hard to apologize and take responsibility even if I feel it is wrongly allocated. Sure my friend should have come to me and said, "I think you should do this" or "I wish you would go about this differently," instead of going to someone else (very senior) to complain, but what if I didn't focus on her actions and instead focused on my own. Was there any merit to the criticism? Would it have added to his esteem of me if I had instead said, "I am sorry a situation has been created. Please allow me to do everything in my power to correct it until everyone is satisfied." It certainly would have be a shorter answer. It probably would have been a more adult answer. And it definitely would have been an answer more in keeping with God's commandment to act as the "salt and light" in the world.
I believe that my generation, and the generation younger than me, has been told that it is acceptable to avoid personal responsibility. That criticism is never constructive. That the buck can always be passed. Regardless of whether or not we believe that to be true in our heart of hearts, when confronted with an unexpected situation, those worldly messages often creep into our ultimate reaction. And if we're listening to those messages rather than being steeped in the messages of our faith, then we fail when we react with anger, defensiveness, abdication of any personal responsibility, and buck-passing. The mirror's glare has not been flattering today. I will work to do better. And as for being thrown under the bus, I'll trust the Lord to heal those tire tracks on my soul.
I am sure there are people who take criticism better than I do. I'm actually confident of that fact. I take everything rather personally and I've been known to get defensive. Which is exactly what I did. I reacted in a way that could be much improved upon now that I reflect. In addition to not reacting particularly well to the bus-throwing/chewing out, I went a step further. I did a little smack talking. I called my mom and told her about this incident by a person I'd now labeled untrustworthy/disloyal (I'm big on loyalty). Then I went outside my office and complained to my assistant who I assure you has some serious crises going on in her own life and this must have seemed so incredibly trivial. I goofed off on the computer for a few minutes because I couldn't get refocused on my work. In total, this one act completely knocked me off my game and created some behaviors that are the anti-thesis of Christ-like.
In retrospect, I have to ask myself why it so hard to apologize and take responsibility even if I feel it is wrongly allocated. Sure my friend should have come to me and said, "I think you should do this" or "I wish you would go about this differently," instead of going to someone else (very senior) to complain, but what if I didn't focus on her actions and instead focused on my own. Was there any merit to the criticism? Would it have added to his esteem of me if I had instead said, "I am sorry a situation has been created. Please allow me to do everything in my power to correct it until everyone is satisfied." It certainly would have be a shorter answer. It probably would have been a more adult answer. And it definitely would have been an answer more in keeping with God's commandment to act as the "salt and light" in the world.
I believe that my generation, and the generation younger than me, has been told that it is acceptable to avoid personal responsibility. That criticism is never constructive. That the buck can always be passed. Regardless of whether or not we believe that to be true in our heart of hearts, when confronted with an unexpected situation, those worldly messages often creep into our ultimate reaction. And if we're listening to those messages rather than being steeped in the messages of our faith, then we fail when we react with anger, defensiveness, abdication of any personal responsibility, and buck-passing. The mirror's glare has not been flattering today. I will work to do better. And as for being thrown under the bus, I'll trust the Lord to heal those tire tracks on my soul.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
Happy Fourth of July
I did not, like most of America, get a long weekend. Both Bray and I had to work. And we were down a nanny so it was working for me during naps and late nights and working for him at the restaurant. We are exhausted. Nevertheless, after an early morning, I took the trio to their first ever neighborhood 4th of July parade. The kind I like to think they had in 1955. Where everyone dolls up their bicycles and wagons (or in our case the choo-choos) and heads out, flags in hand, to celebrate our freedom in this great country. And even though I was a little late on the decor category (picked up anything the grocery had last night so we could at least make an appearance in the parade), and even though it was a disastrous start to the morning where everything unwound, the parade itself was great. The kids in the thick of things. Seeing our neighbors with kids the same age. Watching 18 month olds and 80 year olds chow on watermelon. Marching to the festive music some lady piped out from a boom box she carried on her head. All great free wholesome fun for the family. And I for one am glad I ended up taking the kiddos. Here's a few of the highlights (the fourth in our wagon is our neighbor friend down the street - the kids love to bring buddies in the extra cart):
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)