Fear

Let's all just be honest with ourselves.---> Most of us are NOT living in the Resurrection Power of Jesus. 1 Corinthians 4:20 "For the kingdom of God is not a matter of talk but of power."We (including myself) are living in fear of about everything and we have crippled:

1. Our faith and our supernatural destiny
2. The testimony and power of the church

A few recent examples

• We fear ISIS and Syrian Refugees
• Have you prayed for them or asked God what his perfect solution is? I KNOW he has one.

Jeremiah 32:27(ESV) “Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh. Is anything too hard for me?

• We fear Starbucks taking away our Christmas!!!!!!
• Puh-lease- No red cup can steal my faith or Christmas.

• We fear people might associate us with the Olsteens, Mark Driscoll, and Benny Hinn so we post shaming and unforgiving articles about them. We have become the Pharisee Police and take every opportunity to rebuke any and everyone. (Gal. 6:1) Mark Driscoll's children should not have to deal with death threats, rust nails and rocks being thrown at them... (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ZVtuOIrrDg) 04:00- 05:30

John 13:35(ESV) "By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

•  We fear EVERYTHING about our children! (Guilty) I had a friend who lives in the middle east once tell me that she had to give her children over to God including all fears about any kind of abuse, sickness or safety. Let me tell you that I'm not there. The mommy wars are all based on fear- you know what I'm talking about. Defensiveness is also fear. (Guilty)
• Matthew 6:25-34
• In the short time I've been a parent, I've realized that the greatest gift I can give my children is to teach them to hear the voice of the Lord. My fleshly self cannot provide all the solutions but if God can give them strategy and healing for any problem they face- I know they will be ok. Knowing about God or the Bible are not enough. 

This is the short list of fears we have. John 4:18 "There is no fear in love, perfect love cast out fear." We love control and knowing whats going to happen next = fear. If we truly live in the power of the resurrection, we would know that the power that raised Christ from the dead lives in us. (Romans 8) My mind just shrugged this off for so many years until I began to renew my mind and surrounded myself in a culture of people who believed God was stronger than the world. 

2 Timothy 1:7(NKJV) "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind."

www.magdalarising.com

Raya's Birth

At our 40 week appointment, I was extremely disappointed to hear I was only 1 centimeter dilated. With River, I never felt Braxton Hick contractions. Since I had felt many during this pregnancy, I assumed I'd be dilated much further. My loving husband consoled me by taking me out to lunch. The plan going forward was to be induced once I reached 41 weeks just like we did with River. The midwives told me that some women have longer gestation periods and that there wasn't anything to worry about. My prayer going forward was to go into labor naturally. 

Five days later, that prayer was answered. My first contraction came at 1:40 am. I was alerted due to the fact that the contraction was also felt in my back. They were not painful but caught my attention enough to get up and move. I immediately began to time them and was surprised that they were already four to five minutes apart. From what I had heard from other women, I thought contractions would start 10-15 minutes apart. I moved around the kitchen and rocked on the exercise ball. About an hour in, Dave came out to see what was going on. Drowsily he realized that things were about to get real. I called the Midwife and she told me to come to the hospital. 

Dave began to pack up the car and I held my first baby in my arms for the last time as an only child. I teared up as I told River I was going to get him a sister and that I'd see him in the morning. We dropped him off at Nana and Papa's at 3:45am. My dad was very sentimental and came out to the car to tell me he loved me then stood in the freezing garage to say goodbye. Sorry dad, but I chuckled as we drove away at your emotional moment. 

Dave informed me half way to the hospital that he wasn't feeling well. I scolded him for not taking any medicine and made him stop at a gas station to get meds. There was no way I was chancing having a husband throwing up during labor. I also scarfed down a cereal bar knowing full well the hospital would not let me eat anything once I arrived. 

As we walked in, I was greeted by a familiar receptionist. Since I work at the hospital giving maternity tours, many of the staff recognized me. We were taken to triage and waited for our nurse assignment. Contractions had slowed down at the hospital so I was initially nervous I'd be sent home. I was so happy to hear I was dilated to a five and would be staying to have a baby. 

Our first nurse was super friendly and talked with us until 7:00 when shifts change. By my choice, I stayed in bed the whole time because I was comfortable. Contractions were surprisingly bearable and nausea was nothing compared to my labor with River. Our labor and delivery nurses were excellent. I actually knew one of the ladies from working there and felt very comfortable with her. She went out of her way to serve me during the whole ordeal. 

My biggest mental wrestling match was the decision to get an epidural. Throughout my pregnancy, I had debated this topic on numerous occasions. It was a mental battle as well as a spiritual one. I strongly believe a woman's body was created to birth naturally and I also believe that my faith could help me achieve an intervention free labor. River's labor and delivery was extremely painful and did not allow me to enjoy or "be present" in the first few hours of his life. My biggest disappointment was that I couldnt/didn't emotionally celebrate River's birth. I wanted things to be different this time. So even though the contraction were very bearable, I got an epidural so I could be emotionally and mentally present for my daughter's birth.

There was a small window of time that pitocin was used. It was then I realized that pitcoin was the enemy through my first birth. Nausea crept in and my sister began to put peppermint oil on my forehead. It was only bad for a half hour and I really believed the peppermint oil helped. 

The midwife on call that day was one of my favorites. She carried positivity into the room as well as peace. Her calm gave me assurance that everything was going to go well. I think I told her I loved her after she delivered the baby. 

There were a few potential scares during the morning. Baby girl was constantly moving therefore making it hard to find her heartbeat. At one point, it took the nurses about 15 minutes to find her heartbeat and they were just about to call in the midwife. Although I wasn't scared, I had a moment when I thought I would be headed for a c-section. Luckily, they found her in some weird position. Next, the midwife thought that baby's hand might be in the way of delivery and had to call in an OB to double check.The OB was so friendly/funny and I even said to my sister, "I really like him!." Who knew I could love a male OB. (**Only ever had female doctors) And there was no hand in the way of delivery. 

About 9:30 am I was at 10cm and the midwife had me trial push. Quickly she realized I was ready and called in the whole medical crew. I was so peaceful and joyful the whole time. I think Dave was grateful for this because it made his job easier since he was going on little sleep. I recognized some of the staff and everyone was talking to me. About ten minutes later, the midwife began to talk me through pushing. I could feel the urge to push minus the pain and was actually telling them when the contractions were coming. On the second push, the midwife said she had a lot of hair. My sister thought it was a lie to get me to push but after the next push, Dave and Angela realized she was not kidding. With a full head of brown hair baby girl was laid on my chest after three pushes. I teared up with joy because everything had been so joyful and peaceful. I could not have imagined a better experience and still look back in awe. My goal was to cherish and celebrate the time with daughter in the first few hours of her life and this dream came true. I don't have any regrets and am so grateful that I could be in the moment for Raya's birth. 

Last Days of Pregnancy

Here a few ways you know you're in the very last stretch of pregnancy, like days-

1. You purposely hop or jump as you leave the bathroom hoping your water breaks.

2. Any sign of abdominal pains makes you freeze with excitement.

3. Your mind tells you the baby is coming in the next few hours because the laundry and dishes are done.

4. You spend endless time bouncing on the exercise ball.

5. You repack your hospital bag twice a day.

6. You take a nap at 6pm because you think the baby might come in the night.

7. Daily you google "when to go to the hospital."

8. Getting dressed in the morning makes you angry because you only have four shirts that fit.

9. You've tried raspberry tea, cleaning the floor, acupuncture, sex, walking, essential oils, yoga, and massages to induce labor.

10. You rehearse the role of a "big brother" with your toddler every chance you get.

Someone told me this the other day and I wish I would have had this mindset earlier. Tell yourself that pregnancy last 42 weeks. That way you're not a crazy person like me, the weeks leading up to your due date!

Be Still and Know

Sometimes I struggle to stop and pray and especially be still and listen. So things like this happen to force me into being still- don't be deceived, I'm wide awake!!!

31 Weeks

In case you were wondering what 31 weeks looks like!

That's What She Said

        As I prepare to write this, I already feel the voices saying, 

"That's a far stretch."

"She's a prude."

"Its just a joke."

So before I start a internet battle where we anonymously say vicious things back and forth,  understand my heart in writing this. I want people to think. I want people to decide for themselves what is right or wrong. I want people to be confident in their convictions so that if some disagrees, they don't start flying off the handle. BUT mostly, I want healing for all those affected by sexual abuse, the pornography industry, human trafficking, and even perpetrators of sexual crimes or addictions. 

Growing up in the pastors house, it was rare you would find a crude joke. It was also rare to watch any television or movies with affection beyond a kiss. If we saw these movies, it was probably at a friend's house. That put us at a great disadvantage in participating in crude joking during high school or college. I probably gave a courtesy laugh like a knew what they were referring to. Yes, you could call me "sheltered".

Some people grow up in churches where sex is equivalent to the devil. This was NOT my experience but I was taught that it should be saved for marriage. Although it was not spoken about, my siblings and I had a great relationship with our parents so we knew we could ask anything if we wanted. I don't remember my mom sitting me down to talk about it although she did make me watch ridiculous puberty videos (mom = school nurse). I established my own boundaries for dating and was a virgin before I got married. All my questions were directed at my older sister or older friends before my wedding night. All in all, the whole idea of "test out the car before you drive it" has not negatively effected my marriage or love life.

So now that you know a little history about me, I want to explain my thought process when it comes to sexual jokes, movies, maybe even music. There is not a social circle in my life where I don't hear, "Thats what she said." It bothers me. I see sexual sin as this huge web that connects, especially in our hyper-sexed culture. 

JOKES, MOVIES, MUSIC, MAGAZINES

All get the wheels turning in men or women's heads that these are the norms for sex.

For example:

• Frequency of sex
• Types of sex
• Length of sex
• Physical appearance of the perfect partner
• Number of partners

As these pictures are continually downloaded into women and men's mind (*especially men who are so visual) expectations start to change. When those expectation begin to prove far from reality, addictions begin.  

For example:

• Sexual additions leading to
• Rape
• Cheating
• Human Trafficking Industry
• Addiction to pornography
• Pedophilia

                                                   IT ALL STARTS SOMEWHERE!

There is a song I've heard on the radio that describes the way our culture see men and their sex drive. 

"Guess it's true, I'm not good at a one-night stand

But I still need love cause I'm just a man"

"Well, he just a guy, they can't help themselves." If its true that God created men to consume sex in  unattainable amounts with uncontrollable desires, women and children should all go hide. This attitude is what our hyper-sexed culture accepts. Then we are surprised and flabbergasted of news reports of rape, high divorce rates among religious couples, human trafficking and unmentionable crimes to children as young as babies. Just watch Law & Order SVU. I'm haunted that those stories are reality!!

Personally, I'm convicted that the smallest of my decisions, effect these bigger crimes. 

• My crude joking perpetuates the hyper-sex cultured feeding people lies that turn into addictions. 
• My movie choices pay people to promote sexual promiscuity or border lone pornography films. 
• My purchase of music fills the wallets of people who then fill our youth with the idea that sex is everything. 

My contribution to the hyper sex society feeds the sexually addicted then assaults innocent children, women and men. 

There is not a small ounce of me that wants to contribute any more to human trafficking, the pornography industry, sexual crimes against people, etc. These wounds haunt victims for the rest of their lives and sometimes lead to more abuse. Statistics say that many abusers have been abused themselves, many as children.  

So when I don't smile at your jokes or decline a movie invitation- don't be offended. I'm an extremely sensitive person especially when it comes to issues related to children. 

Some of my own habits I'm processing are reading tabloid's online and the radio. Things I don't pay for out of pocket but are still making money through advertisemnt. In conclusion, we are all responsible for our own actions. Let's be intentional instead of following the majority or trends. 

My Life in the 1900’s

My Life in the 1900’s 

(Some names have been changed to protect the identity of the characters. Details have been altered to fit the culture of the times.)

I was born, Maggie Helen Linden, the second daughter of Minister Nicholas Linden and his wife Marion. As his title suggest, he was the Minister in our small town of Clayton. He was well respected by everyone in Clayton and loved to tell stories. His weakness was the game of baseball to which he could be seen running bases with the young folk up until his sixties. My mother Marion raised us and spent her free time assisting the town doctor by making house calls. She was ambitious about her work which was rare for women of her time. Many of the women would come to her to find wisdom in times of trouble or hardship.

All three of us children attended school regularly. My older sister Alonza was very academic and excelled playing the clarinet. She grew up and married the sheriff in the town over. They had more kids then they knew what to do with. My younger brother William was the strong silent type. His interest in reading led him to explore the world of film. He was shunned by the townspeople for his involvement in the immoral cinema industry. My parents never mentioned it but I knew deep down they were proud of his accomplishments.  

My childhood was pleasant. I enjoyed school but was frequently in trouble for repaying the boys in my class for pulling my braids. My parents would rebuke me and send me to my room. At the age of sixteen, finding no suitors in my town to settle down, my father agreed that an education would help me mature. I studied to become a teacher and found it to be my true passion. During the last month of schooling, I met a young man named David. He was the son of a farmer and in line to inherit the farm. His love for academics and adventure made him forgo his farm duties and go off to college. He was studying to become a banker.  Our time of getting to know each other was short; but was enough to start a correspondence via mail.

After my exams, a job was secured for me to teach in my home town of Clayton. For the next year, I grew as a teacher while writing every night to my dear David. My father approved of our courtship and a year and a half later we were married. I continued teaching as David began his work at the town bank. We lived in a small apartment above the bank and attended my father’s church every Sunday. Our first son Jethro soon came into the world. He had a vibrant and youthful spirit and much resembled his father.  A little short of two years later we would welcome in a sister for little Jethro.