So This is Christmas

It's amazing how radically different this Christmas has proven to be from what I had expected and anticipated.

First of all, this is my first-ever blog post on my new iPad(!!). My husband teamed up with my parents on a gift that has absolutely blown my mind. The cool part about the gift is the affirmation that came with it in regards to my writing. Their intention with this gift is not just that I could have an awesome toy (even though it is!) but that it would be stewarded in a way that allowed me to blog more easily and more often, to write at times that would otherwise be more difficult without the technology. It's no secret that to those who know me that blogging has been a window into my mostly-secret thoughts. Thoughts that in the past I have guarded very carefully, even from those whom I love and trust. Sometimes it's hard for me to verbalize those thoughts - either for fear of judgment or just because I can conceptualize the difficulty and time it would take to work through an idea with someone, and that length of time just does not practically exist at that particular moment. I have blogged many, many late nights when the house is quiet enough for me to work through the maze of my complicated thoughts and ideas. My husband and I have a running joke that sometimes others know me better than he does simply because they read my blog posts before he is able to get to them. And I have to admit that to some degree and on some days, that is probably true. Words just seem to organize in my head and flow onto paper more easily than out of my mouth. And I have the added bonus of the "delete" button when I write something I decide I didn't really mean or that doesn't truly reflect my heart or God's Word accurately. Can't do that in conversation...if you could, I would probably have more friends. ;) Anyhow, as excited as I truly am about this gift, I feel quite impressed upon to steward it well - not just as a toy, but as a way to honor God more fully in my life. I pray that I am able to do that.

Secondly, there is of course the great sadness that ebbs and flows with the desire to be nurturing life within my womb this Christmas season. The great sadness has led, though, to a fuller understanding of the greater JOY that Christ was born to us, that He chose humility and human weakness...that He left the right hand of the Father in search of the hand of His Bride. I know that Jeremiah's life was not only meant to bring me closer to Christ, but it has and for that I am looking forward to one day hugging my son and telling him how much he has affected my life just in the few weeks God allowed him to grow. The picture below is the only piece of a quilt that my sister had finished when we got the news that Jeremiah had passed. For Christmas, she framed it and gave it to us. Every single part of it is divinely inspired, and I am so thankful - once again - for God's tender graces to us through our friends and family.




Thirdly, because of travel plans this year (one of which included me agreeing to allow my parents to fly E to the other side of the continent to visit my brother and his wife in California...still not sure what I was thinking!?), we chose to have Santa bring presents on the morning of Christmas Eve. It was a completely logistical decision, but as I woke up this morning, my mind clear of any notions of presents and video cameras and breakfast preparations, I was able to sit quietly in the early morning and just pray and read the Word and remember and meditate on my Savior and thank Him for choosing us, for choosing me. The divinely-inspired ability to enjoy and celebrate and begin this day focused only on Jesus' birth has compelled me to secretly plan to work out a deal with "Santa" to arrive at our house every Christmas Eve morning from now on. Maybe I can talk him into that - we'll have to see. :)

Getting ready for the big trip to California...

This Cup

One thing that I love about our church is that every Sunday we partake in the Lord's Supper. Some people might argue that in doing so, it will become more commonplace and possibly lose its meaning. Through my experience, I can only argue vehemently against that point. Kneeling before God each week, remembering Who He is and the great sacrifice that He made for me to cover my sin is certainly the way that I need to start my week. One certainly doesn't have to have the bread and the cup to do that, but I am glad that we do.

Today as our pastor led us to pray and prepare for the breaking of the bread, I was crumbling. Coming into church that morning, I was somewhat overtaken by all the children and pregnant ladies around me. This was my first time back at church since our miscarriage, so there were lots of hugs and "I'm sorry's," followed by tears. I must've been holding back a floodgate of tears, because once they started, I just couldn't seem to stop them.

So we're preparing for the Lord's Supper, and I'm praying through some things in my heart, most of which are complicated, opposing thoughts of "Lord, I love you and I trust you and I want what you want for me," and "I do not want to be part of this plan you have for me. Why does she get two precious little girls and I still only have one? Why does she get to still be beautifully pregnant right now and I am not? Why do they get to have six kids? Why? Why? Why?"

With my head in my hands, pouring my heart out to the Lord while tears flowed, my thoughts shifted to the communion that was about to take place.  I thought about the cup and remembered a time when Jesus wept as he had prayed for Father to fulfill His will in a way other than what Jesus knew was about to happen. Jesus knew the pain and suffering He was about to step into. He knew that God could deliver him from it if He wanted to. But Jesus had a different heart than I did as He continued in His prayer, "But not My will but Yours be done." Submission in its highest, purest form as Jesus conquered the fleshly desire to just walk away from a Father God who requires everything.

Eyes closed, as I played through that scene, I saw myself kneeling before God, beside Jesus. I saw Jesus wrestle with the emotions that I was wrestling with - knowing the plan God has, but wanting it to be easier. Then He spoke the words, "Not My will but Yours be done." I swallowed hard as everything in the garden stopped. The wind stopped whistling through the trees on that cold night and the grasshoppers and tree frogs stopped their singing as Jesus turned to me and said, "Your turn now, my child. Your turn to pray it too." And with Jesus beckoning me (and with my knowledge that His cross was to be infinitely more cruel than my own will ever be), how could I deny Him my trust? My turn. "Not my will......but Yours be done, God. Whatever it is you have planned for me, I submit to it. I trust You."

And as the scene evaporated, I heard my pastor invite us to drink and eat in remembrance. As I did, I prayed again, thankful this time that Jesus really had submitted to the will of His Father, that He had gone before me to lay down His life in the ultimate sacrifice for me. And that in doing so, He even stopped for a moment to show believers what true obedience to the will of the Father looks like in the midst of the greatest sacrifice one could possibly give - His life.

To Celebrate or Not To Celebrate?

Some days - I'll admit - my heart gets stuck in the expectations that I had going into this Thanksgiving and Christmas season. Many people around me knew I had a countdown going for Nov 1st - the first day of my second trimester, the "magic day" at which point I was hoping to leave morning (evening) sickness behind and begin to climb toward more energy and a healthier appetite. The Thanksgiving/Christmas season has always been a fun - albeit, exhausting! - time of year for L and I (from Nov 14th to the end of the year, our family celebrates my birthday, Thanksgiving, E's birthday, L's birthday, Christmas, our anniversary and New Year's...whew!), and this year we were looking forward to adding some fun baby milestones to the mix, the biggest of which was finding out the sex of the baby. So I had a lot of expectations for these days, and most days I wake up and make a conscious decision to lay those expectations down and ask God for new mercies and the ability to appreciate the days as He planned them, not as I had planned them.

A couple of nights ago, a night when I was really wrestling with some darkness in my heart in regards to some of the trials over the last few weeks, I wandered over to my friend's blog and found this post, inspired to her by this post on her friend's blog. It spoke Truth to me in an instant, refocusing my heart on the joy that is at stake this Christmas season, calling me back to the One this story is all about, reminding me that because He is Savior and the Christ, I have a Burden-Lifter and a Hope that He is making all things new in His time.

Not Celebrate? Your burden is too great to bear?
Your loneliness is intensified during this Christmas season?
Your tears seem to have no end?
Not Celebrate? You should lead the celebration.
You should run through the streets to ring the bell and sing the loudest!
You should fling the tinsel on the tree, and open your house to your neighbors and call them to dance!
For it is you above all others who know the joy of Advent.
It is unto you that a Savior is born this day.
One Who comes to lift your burden from your shoulders, One Who comes to wipe the tears from your eyes.
You are not alone, for He is born this day to you.
Ann Weems, Kneeling in Bethlehem

NOW I Remember Saying That.

It hit me sometime over the past few days that about a month or so ago - during my prayers and conversations with God - I had mentioned to him that I would be willing to go wherever He led our family and that no matter how much He wanted to shift our idea of "normal," I would be okay with that and follow Him. Of course, I was thinking and praying inside a box that meant I would be willing to adapt to changes in zip code or changes in societal comfort levels...NOT even considering for a moment that God would turn life completely upside down in a way that I never even anticipated.

I can't tell you how much I just never, ever, in a million years, expected to be the girl on the ultrasound table who heard the words, "Your baby doesn't have a heartbeat." Never. Ever. Now, don't get me wrong. God provided a supernatural peace throughout the whole experience of that moment. But even now, when I look back on the whole situation, it's still hard to believe that it's actually been me - in MY skin - walking through this whole process. To complicate the reality of it all, I still have memories in my head of the first ultrasound visit for this little baby, at around 10 weeks, when I saw him bouncing all around on the big flat screen, with a heartbeat steady and strong, flexing his long little legs, turning his little head toward me on the screen. In that moment, I loved him. I came home and put pictures of him up on Facebook for the whole world to see. It's been hard to reconcile that that baby is no longer alive on this earth and that he will not one day be the child that E is now. His purpose for existence was very different, and I'm still on a journey to understand what that purpose really was and is.

So now I remember telling God that I was ready for him to change our lives. And now I understand that I was only ready because He had begun prompting me and prompting my heart to accept the trials He was planning for me. And though I certainly never anticipated the kind of changes He was about to make in our lives, I rest in the fact that God has a purpose and a plan. In fact, I have found myself saying over and over again recently to those around me that the only thing that holds me together some moments is the overwhelming truth and persuasion that God has great purpose in all these things to bring glory to His Name through demonstrating His goodness in all circumstances. It doesn't take away the hurt all the time, but it does give unexplainable peace that resonates deep within my soul.

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

-Horatio Spafford, 1873

P.S. If you've never read the story behind these words, it's worth your time.

How Are You Doing?

This is probably one of the worst questions ever.

Now, I know that this is more than just a journal - it's a public blog too. And I've probably already offended someone or made someone feel uncomfortable, or something worse...but hear me out.

It's one of the worst questions ever because it's one of those questions that forces you to make eye contact with the person if you want to know if they really care what your answer is. Then when you make that eye contact and you find out they really do care, well...for me, that's when the tears start flowing. And I've cried a LOT of tears over the past few weeks. Because, you know what? There are actually a LOT of people in this world who have asked that question with eyes and hearts full of love and concern for me and my family. It's humbling. It has affected me and changed me deeply as a person.

The other reason I hate the question is because I always wonder if those people ever talk amongst themselves about the answers I gave them. Not in a gossipy kind of way, just more along the lines of "Hey, sounds like J is doing well." Or, "Wow, J's having a really rough day." Because if they did, what they would more than likely find is that at 9:30am on a Wednesday, I was having a really awesome day, then for reasons I couldn't even explain, at 4:30pm on that same day, I laid down in the middle of the floor in the fetal position and cried like a baby. And then at 1:30am in the middle of the following night, I sat wide awake on the couch wondering if I would ever be able to sleep normally again. The reason I wonder if these people talk amongst themselves is because when I look back at the day and remember the things I said to someone at one moment and then remember the way I felt at another moment, it's apparent that those two things were completely different, though - in their respective moments - completely accurate. Taken as a whole, I look (and feel) completely bipolar, and a total hypocrite. It's not really plausible to offer someone the whole picture every time they ask, but a snapshot really isn't a good gauge for how I really am either. 

Thirdly, though I feel in NO way worthy to compare myself to David, I have had a few 'kindred moments' while reading through some of his writings and songs, with his manic-depressive way of boasting proudly in a mighty God one moment, and then begging God humbly for new mercies the next. Psalm 89 is a classic example of David's "rebounding" - and is a great portrait of my days right now. I believe God is faithful and has a purpose for our loss. (How unbelievably depressing would it be if I didn't think God had a great purpose in that!?) However, even though I believe in my heart, and in my mind, and have spoken that belief over and over with my words, I still feel like David in vs. 46-49, and I have begged God many, many times to just allow my heart to move forward out of this valley. My mind seems eager to move on: to get back into a workout routine, or to get back into the pace of work or just daily living. But it's as if God has not fully released me from this trial for some reason, and I still have lessons yet to learn.

Now that's a lot to unpack for a sweet friend who is just meaning to check my vitals and hug my neck. Hence the reason I don't usually give the full-length version when someone pops the dreaded question. And, deep inside, I do understand and appreciate that those around me - as I said before - really care deeply, even when they aren't asking for the full commentary on my life over the past two weeks.

Since this IS a public blog, it must be said that I am not keeping a secret list of those who have asked this question of me. To be honest, so much of these days has been a fog that I couldn't tell you half of the things that have been said to me, unless they were written down. So if you have found or if you do find yourself wanting to ask this question of me, please don't hesitate. Just know two things: 1) I will be looking in your eyes to find comfort in your genuine concern, at which point you might witness a few of my tears; and 2) Whatever it is that I tell you could very possibly be null and void 30 minutes later. This is just a journey with lots of ups and downs, and bumps and bruises. And you are welcome to walk a portion of it with me at anytime.

How Long, O Lord?

Our doctor certainly prepared us for a waiting game. Because I was being induced, no one could tell us exactly how long it would take for our baby to be born, much less how long my total stay at the hospital would be. So many factors were in play that simply depended on how things progressed (medical viewpoint) and the mercy of the Lord (Christian viewpoint). We were told to expect delivery to be as early as Friday afternoon or as late as Saturday morning, and that we would hopefully be able to go home by Sunday morning at the latest.

As I laid in the hospital bed, many of my tears were dedicated to asking, "How long, O Lord?" Each time the nurse or doctor checked my progress during the night, the news was pretty depressing. So when our little baby arrived with no prior signs or signals at 4:55am on Friday, November 19th - less than 7 hours after the induction began - everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, was shocked. And we thanked God for his mercy in allowing our little baby to come quickly.

The remainder of the process progressed fairly quickly and naturally as well, and at 10am, my husband squeezed my hand, kissed me and said, "It's done." The doctor gave us confirmation around 11am that indeed everything was complete, and that he wanted to now watch me for four hours as I recovered. And then, if I was doing well, I could go home!!!

God continued providing faithfully, and at 4pm that afternoon, we were released directly from the Labor & Delivery wing to go home.

Looking back on the timing of things, I guess I might should feel as though the day rushed past. Less than 24 hours is a short amount of time to be sure. However, although every moment of the day came mercifully quickly, moments such as time alone with our little baby seemed to freeze as we were allowed to take it all in. I have no regrets as I think about the events of that day, no take-backs, no do-overs, nothing that I would have wished differently. How incredibly gracious God was to us is pretty incomprehensible as I consider these things. Praise Him! He is good in all He does!!

"I will bless the LORD at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul will make its boast in the LORD; the humble will hear it and rejoice. O magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt His name together. I sought the LORD, and He answered me, and delivered me from all my fears. They looked to Him and were radiant, and their faces will never be ashamed. This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him and saved him out of all his troubles. The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear Him, and rescues them. O taste and see that the LORD is good; how blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him! O fear the LORD, you His saints; for to those who fear Him there is no want. The young lions do lack and suffer hunger; but they who see the LORD shall not be in want of any good thing. Come, you children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the LORD. Who is the man who desires life and loves length of days that he may see good? Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit. Depart from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it. The eyes of the LORD are toward the righteous and His ears are open to their cry." ~Psalm 34:1-15

Perspective

I think I've been approaching Day 3 with the wrong perspective. Though I fully believe the details and timeline of the day are important, simply telling it from that perspective is not working. So I'm going to try a different tactic for now, and then maybe go back later and write down a timeline.

There were many themes of Day 3. One was certainly Deuteronomy 7:9 - "Know therefore that the LORD your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commands." Another was Isaiah 25:1 - "O LORD, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done marvelous things, things planned long ago." Again and again, we came back to Jeremiah 1:5a - "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you."

L and I both trusted God to be faithful. In fact, just days before the storms began, we were sitting on our couches having a conversation about how we knew that no matter what our future circumstances would become, we would be able to trust that God would provide and continue to be faithful to us because of how much he has proven His faithfulness to us up to this point. Of course I had no idea of what was to come in the days ahead. And though admittedly I was speaking those words in the context of earthly comforts - a home, food, clothes, etc. - it is has been no less true in our current situation.

Sometimes the only thing I could say back in texts, emails or messages to friends and family offering comfort were the simple words, "God is Sovereign." Though it didn't answer the question of "why," it pointed me to a better question of "Who is in control?" Isaiah 45:11-12 says this: "Thus says the LORD, the Holy One of Israel, and the one who formed [Israel]: 'Ask me of things to come; will you command me concerning my children and the work of my hands? I made the earth and created man on it; it was my hands that stretched out the heavens, and I commanded all their host.'"

So as I consider Day 3, the only thing I feel that is truly worthy to write about is the faithfulness, the goodness, the mercy, the marvelousness, and the sovereignty of the LORD that was evident in every moment of that day. We had so many questions of how God would accomplish His good and pleasing and perfect Will that day, and I am going to attempt to answer as many of those questions as I can over the next few days. I pray that in all these things God will be glorified.

Surrounded

Giving words to Day 3 has been difficult, so I'm going to take a break and come back to the here and now for a while. To say that people have been kind to us over the past few days is so understated. L and have found ourselves saying over and over again, "There is an army surrounding us." An army of people who have met every need, even before we knew them, even when those needs were small and (seemingly) insignificant, or even when those needs were completely unrelated (logically) to the immediate concerns of health, safety and support. L and I talked today also about how sweet it has been to see God knit together the strengths in each of our friends and family members, to meet our needs completely, even though no one person alone has been able to meet all of our needs.

I want to remember these thoughtful deeds and caring words and the steady support for the rest of our lives. I want to build an alter of thanks to the Lord, recognizing that He has been the one weaving every facet and every detail of these days together -  not just sustaining us but setting our feet on solid rock; not simply shielding us from pain but allowing us to drink deeply of the joy of the Lord.

On Thursday, as I mentioned before, L had some things to settle at work in preparation for the days ahead, so we agreed for him to go into work while I ran a few errands. Obviously a little side-tracked as he pulled into the parking lot at work, he forgot to cut the headlights before getting out of the car. So at noon, when he was supposed to be on his way to lunch with friend before coming home to me and E, he discovered that his battery not just dead, it was so dead that it could not even be jumped off, and eventually discovered to be so dead that it did not even register a charge at the local auto supply store. People jumped at the chance to assist in a tangible way, and he was soon off to lunch in another vehicle, while friends took care of replacing our battery and eventually returning our vehicle to us. This has been one of those somewhat unrelated gifts of compassion and care for us, but it directly relates in the sense that it eliminated a potentially distracting and frustrating event and allowed us to continue grieving and processing our most immediate situation.

I have mentioned it already, but it is worth saying again: God has been alive and evident through our little girl. After noticing the flowers around our house that had been delivered throughout the day yesterday, she gathered together some "flowers" herself from outside, and presented them to me last night. She has been patient and kind and thoughtful. She has not been perfect, but she has been real in her love to me. We have not yet had a moment to explain all that has gone on in the past few days, but I have no doubt that she will accept it with grace and as much understanding as she can. I am so thankful that God has allowed us to parent her for a season, and will be forever changed in the way that I carry out my responsibility to do so.

According to hospital policy, I was not allowed to eat from the time they began the induction until the time that they released me from the hospital yesterday. Clear liquids and sugar-free popsicles were my only indulgences (and, admittedly, a few Jolly Ranchers snuck in between nurse rounds). Because my husband still had a need for food, though, people began signing up to bring us food first thing on Friday morning, and it literally hasn't stopped since. Breakfast, lunch and dinner has been provided for two days straight, and meals are already mapped out through next weekend. I'm not sure I've actually ever thought of taking food to someone who's experienced a miscarriage, but I'll never overlook the true ministry of that simple action in the future. Once again, it has allowed us to experience these moments without stopping to think of our basic physical needs. Also, though I am certainly capable of cooking for myself at this time, receiving someone into our home to share a meal with us has allowed us to experience community and share the story of God's faithfulness again and again, and is multiplying the effect of the gospel throughout the lives of our friends and family, and bringing glory to God in a way I truly never anticipated.

Many people have prayed for us over these last few days. Before I even received hard evidence via ultrasound, people were praying. Interceding for us, pleading with God to guard our hearts and minds against the lies of the Enemy, praying for strength for each moment, praying for specific events to occur that would allow us healing, praying for things that I still do not even know about. As people have shared their specific prayers with us, I continue to be amazed at how God has directly answered them. For example, one friend shared with us that he prayed we would not feel as though any of this was our fault, and specifically that I would not wonder why my body rejected this baby. I had wondered many times throughout these last few days why I was not battling with those particular feelings, and as he shared his prayer with me, I understood why. Because he (and I am sure that others) had been going before us in prayer and shielding us from the lies of the Enemy for those exact emotions. That's why. Another friend prayed specifically for us to find comfort in His grace and cling to the truth that He has not forsaken us; while reading her words I knew why I had been able to do that these days: because she (and others) had prayed for those things for us. The events of the birth unfolded in ways that seemed to answer our every prayer. Feelings of sadness were met with surpassing feelings of infinite joy. L and I have had more love for each other and have been more connected to each other than ever before. And all of these things (and more) our friends and family have literally told us they have prayed for. I pray that God has received the glory for granting the requests of these amazing prayer warriors.

Several scriptures have been spoken over us these past few days. They have pointed us to truth and encouraged us immensely.

• Jeremiah 1:5 - "Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born, I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations."
• 1 Peter 1:3-9 - "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to His great mercy, He has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith - more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire - may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen Him, you love Him. Though you do not now see Him, you believe in Him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls."
• Psalm 54:4 (spoken over us by a 7-yr-old!)- "Behold, God is my helper; the Lord is the upholder of my life."
• Psalm 56:8 - "You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book?"
• 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 - "But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
• Psalm 84:11 - "For the Lord is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly."
• Psalm 23 - "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for His Name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever."
• Psalm 34:18 - "The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit."
• Isaiah 43:1-3 - "But now thus says the Lord, He Who created you, O Jacob, He Who formed you, O Israel; 'Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned, and the flames shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. I give Egypt as your ransom, Cush and Seba in exchange for you.'"

And finally, there have been countless email, texts, cards, flowers, voicemails, visits, and life-giving words of support, encouragement and love. We are forever grateful for our friends and families who have lifted us up and held us close during this time. Thank you for joining with us on this journey. Our prayer continues to be that as we live life transparently before you, you will be able to taste and see that the Lord is good in ALL that He does, and that He will reveal Himself to you so that you will come to know and believe in our God, the living Christ who shed His blood on the cross - our Savior who is oh so worthy of nothing less than all our love. 

The Swell Approaches

Day 2 - Thursday, Nov 18th

I woke up about 4am this morning and couldn't go back to sleep. E, who was already supernaturally attuned to the emotions of the day, crawled into bed with us around 5am, cuddled up close, and drifted back off to sleep. I laid there once again reminded of how precious little ones really are. 

L headed into work to get a few things squared away in preparation for our weekend. After dropping E off at the sitter's with a promise to go get ice cream when I picked her up, I headed out to run a few errands. The next few hours were kind of a fog. I walked aimlessly around a few stores, managing to buy discounted jars of Playdoh for E's upcoming party but forgetting to grab things that were really necessary such as shampoo. I was still responding to texts and messages, but found myself weary of explaining the circumstances over and over again. I really had no problem with people knowing, and I truly coveted the prayers that were surrounding us literally every moment of the day; it was just getting harder to be the person on the frontlines of telling others. A definitive lack of sleep mixed with an emotional roller coaster was proving to be heavier by the moment.

I picked up E at noon, and we headed off to grab some ice cream, as promised, and her simple joy over an ice cream cone was a nice little lift to my day. Lawson met us at home a little later in the afternoon, and then our pastor and friend came by to listen, to support us, to remind us of God's Word and truth, and to pray for us. And once again I was floored by just how completely God has surrounded us with His church for this time. To add grace upon grace, though - during the entire conversation with M, our pastor - which lasted more than an hour, I think - E played completely independently, with only a few moments of help from her daddy. Again, even though she did not yet know of the circumstances of the day(s), she was just supernaturally guided into behaviors that allowed peace to reign in our home. God would have still been just as good if he had allowed her to completely melt down every 10 minutes during that hour. Circumstances do not change God's infinite goodness. But His gift of mercy does sometimes allow us to experience his goodness in ways that minister to our hearts. On this day, he gave us many gifts of mercy and grace through our little E.

M left us with hope and hugs (even a totally spontaneous hug from E!), and shortly after my parents arrived to help with taking care of E over the next few days. They brought dinner, then L and I showered and finished packing for the hospital. We arrived at the hospital right at 8pm, and headed up to Labor and Delivery with our doctor's orders to begin inducing labor that evening. They got us settled into a quiet (thank you, Lord) room, and began the barrage of questions and paperwork.

After the paperwork came the procedures: IV, drawing blood, induction. I laughed silently when the nurse made an off-hand comment about the IV being the worst part (Had she read my paperwork? Did she know why I was here?!), but after four blown veins and five sticks, I was beginning to wonder if maybe there was going to be some truth to her statement. Not to mention we'd had a few friends stop by who were witnessing the entire drama unfold. I didn't mind spectators, but it did kind of add to the hilarity of the situation. I finally breathed a HUGE sigh of relief when a male nurse by the name of Charlie - brought in especially for me because I had "tiny veins" - was able to get my IV started. I told him afterwards that although my husband was the only man in the room worthy to be my hero, he (Charlie) had come in at a close second that night. :) I knew that wouldn't be the worst, but I definitely had not anticipated how bad it truly was. At one point, I had had a nurse on one side drawing blood for labwork, and another nurse on the other side poking me with an IV needle. Not one of the best moments, to be sure.

The induction was started as soon as the IV was going, right around 10pm. We had a wonderful nurse who was very kind to us throughout the entire night, offering everything she was allowed to under the moon. Our doctor came by as well, explaining the protocol for the induction and his general thoughts on how quickly things might process. We were told to expect to be in labor for 1-2 days, with recovery of up to a day afterwards depending on how things had progressed and what additional types of interventions needed to be used. Our friends, who so graciously had moved in and out of the room as was necessary, hugged us and prayed for us, then headed home around 10:30pm. The quiet opened up some opportunities for L and I to talk, to cry together, and to eventually begin settling in for the night. We were not expecting things to change much during the first night, so at around 11:30pm, we determined to try for as much sleep as possible, knowing that sleep would certainly not be easy. 

Day 3 coming soon...

The Tsunami in the Distance

The past few days have presented one of life's greatest storms for L and I up to this point. Our Sovereign God, who has numbered each of our days, decided to number our growing baby's days quite a bit shorter than we had anticipated. I feel as though I've lived a hundred years in the past three days, making decisions that I never even dreamed would be necessary. Throughout every moment, though, God has weaved his cord of everlasting life and gracious providence through the Water of the Word, answering prayers of the body of Christ as they have gone before Him interceding on our behalf, and overwhelming us with His great love, His faithfulness, and His mercy. In the best days of my life, I have never felt His presence nearer than I have in the past 24 hours. Oh how He loves us!

Day 1 - Wednesday, Nov 17th
After switching care providers three times (long story), I went in for my first  prenatal visit with my new OB. Because this was really my third OB visit for this pregnancy so far, I had already had bloodwork and exams (visit #1 - 8 weeks) and then more bloodwork and an ultrasound showing the strong heartbeat and developing little baby (visit #2 - 10 weeks). On visit #3 - 14 weeks, then, I was hoping to hear the heartbeat by doppler, talk a bit with the doctor, and schedule my 4th visit which would be around week 20, just in time to find out the sex before Christmas.

After having trouble determining a heartbeat by doppler, my doctor put me in line for an ultrasound. I texted a few people to ask for prayers, but was truthfully only a little anxious - we had a tough time finding E's heartbeat before week 20 as well, so this felt a little normal based on my previous experiences.

The ultrasound tech came quickly, taking me back to the room, reassuring me that many times it's hard to find a heartbeat in these early weeks. I hopped up on the table, she pulled out her magic wand, and as soon as she touched my belly, our sweet baby appeared right there on the screen, just as perfect as I imagined he would look. She took a quick picture of the screen, put the wand down, and then started looking around for a different wand. And then she left. While she was gone, I started studying the picture on the screen. Some things became apparent, such as the fact that the baby was measuring about 5 days behind - not extremely significant if this was my first ultrasound, but especially significant considering my first u/s had shown development right on schedule. When she returned with my doctor, it didn't take long to find out why. The sound that every mom waits to hear - the thundering horses that reassures your hopes and calms your fears - was never heard. Further scans showed no blow flow throughout the baby, and most significantly, no blood flow to the heart. There are truly no words to describe that moment. I would imagine it's a little like staring at a tsunami far off in the ocean, heading your direction, promising certain disaster but not knowing to what degree that disaster will affect you.

I called my husband. I called my mom. I called work. Texts started to flow with messages of love and concern. I went home, and L came home to meet me. We cried, we talked, we laughed, we prayed. I explained more details from the morning and we began to make a few decisions that would create a tentative timeline for the next few days. We had lunch, rested for a bit while we continued to share the news with family and friends, then went to pick up E from the sitter's house. Our emotions fluctuated throughout the evening, feeling God's presence through our joys and tears. I enjoyed and appreciated my time with E that night in ways I never had before. Sleep was evasive, but we endured the night.

Day 2 coming soon...

Talking Sticks

Today as we pulled out of the parking lot of the church on our way home, I heard E in the backseat...'I love you so much, mommy.' This indescribable feeling swelled up in my heart - I mean, there is nothing in this whole world that compares to hearing your own child say those words - so I turned back to her and said, 'Baby, I love you so much too!' She quickly replied, 'NO! Not youuuu, mommy - this mommy.' And she pointed to the two sticks she had managed to pick up and sneak into the car - one of those clearly being the 'mommy' stick and the other being the child, I guess.

I mean, sure.......I would've loved to have been the intended recipient of that outward expression of her affection, but it was enough to know that even in the imaginary world that she's beginning to create, genuine love is expressed in families. And even if I don't get a direct 'I love you' every day, it's still sweetly affirming that if even sticks love their mommies...maybe little girls do too. ;)

When conversations with God don't go as planned.

Yesterday, on my way home from work, I had a conversation with God that went something like this:

J?
I'm not listening.
J?
Not listening!
J?
God - I know you want to talk to me about my frustrations with my husband. And right now, I just want to stay mad at him forever. And if I talk to you, I know I won't be able to do that. So....as I said, I'm NOT listening. (So I turned the praise music up louder.......to hear Kari Jobe singing......and God laughing in the background)

At the foot of the cross, where grace and suffering meet
You have shown me Your love through the judgment You received
And You've won my heart; yes, You've won my heart
Now I can trade these ashes in for beauty 
And wear forgiveness like a crown
Coming to kiss the feet of mercy
I lay every burden down at the foot of the cross

God?
Yes, J?
I'm ready to listen. It's just that I miss him, I wish he weren't gone so much. I wish I could be sure that he wanted to be here more. I wish...
You're not really ready to listen, are you?
Sorry. I'm ready.
J, you've been doing a lot of comparing lately. A lot of comparing the behavior you perceive in him to what you would wish it to be. A lot of comparing of how much he's giving into the "family" to what you've been giving. And he keeps coming up short in your mind...so you're frustrated, right?
Yes! So you see it too? Oh, I should've been listening to you sooner, God! You really do understand....
You're not listening, again.
Oh. 
As I was saying, you've been doing a lot of comparing...but you've not been doing the right comparing. You've been operating as though you are the righteous one, as though you are the one who has the power to forgive, as though you are the one in control. And, beloved - I love you dearly, but you are missing the point. 'No one is righteous, no, not one.' (Rom 3:10) That was the reason I had to send Jesus. Through Jesus, I have given you a severe mercy, a mercy that as a follower of Christ you are to extend to others. 'Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.' (Col 3:12-13) Dear one, the only justification for comparison that you will find in the cross of Christ is in how much a reflection you are toward others of the great mercies you have found in Me. In how much you love others. In how willing you are to sacrifice your life for the sake of others. No other comparisons can be made, for no one is worthy according to their own merit. 
Oh, God. Wow. I really screwed this one up, didn't I?
I love you, dear one. I have been working in his heart too. Go to him. Trust me. Honor me in your heart and in your words and I will go before and behind you. 'Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” (1 Peter 5:5)

Things you need a mom for.

There are things in this world that you just need a mom for. In light of the fact that I am REALLY thankful for her today for coming up and being "Nana" for a day while I escaped these four walls(!!), I'd thought I'd list a few:

-Moms just really "get" you - even when you don't think they ever could
-Moms only get better with age at lovin' on little ones - exploration, excitement, doing things over and over and over and over and over and over......
-Moms can (apparently) lead your child to a 100% successful pottying day on the first day they arrive (even though you've been trying to get there for five days......)
-Only your mom can give it to you straight without offending you in the slightest (because you know deep down they really do care)
-Moms never stop wanting to become a better person - love more deeply, serve more intently, give more freely

I really love my mom. :)

Well, we almost made it.

I've got some really amazing friends and have had a lot of support over the past few days via Facebook, one of the social media connections of these days. Since we had been having such a successful day at home with potty training (and even a successful grocery store trip!), I wanted to let these awesome friends know. So I did the one thing I shouldn't have...I posted this as my status:

"I think we've mastered 'pottying at home,' folks."

Anyone with a sense of humor knows exactly what happened next. Yeah.

So, with a newfound humble spirit, and a renewed realization that on this Earth, our goal is not perfection, but oneness with the One Who is perfect (thanks, R) - we started over. 

The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me. -John 17:22-23

Evidence of Success

Because I will not remember anything about these days when E is grown and potty training her own stubborn little girl ;), I thought I might need to post some proof that today was, actually, a very good day for E. But since this is a public forum, and not simply a place for private musings, I thought I should preface this post with a very important statement.

Yes - this is as creative as it gets in my household.


I can crochet according to a pattern, I can color between the lines - I can build just about anything as long as I have directions.....but nothing in my brain tells me how to create something 'cutesy' out of nothing. So to all my kindergarten teacher friends and other friends who are able to make something beautiful out of nothing, don't hate on my attempt at bringing my two-year-old some joy, k? :)

Day 1 - Pretty good success, LOTS of prompting and prodding
Day 2 - The dip in performance is evident, I believe
Day 3 - Beginning to show signs of independence!!

This is not how it was meant to be.

Today I came face to face with 'mini-me.' A 3-ft version of myself, stubborn and unyielding to any pressure to do what I asked. To say this complicated Day 2 of potty training is an understatement. All in all, our statistics for today are better than yesterday, but my cup at the end of this day is bone dry and my patience is paper thin. I truly believe my child has had more sugar in these past two days than in her whole life up to this point.

I struggle with the notion sometimes that "this is not how it was meant to be." That - in an ideal world - it wouldn't matter all that much if she potty-trained quickly, because we would be able to work on this gradually, over the course of time, allowing her to move at her own pace and learn in her own time. Part of me does feel that cramming a developmental milestone into a matter of five days is an offense to the Maker - that it's probably not the way He designed it to happen and therefore the parties involved in such a crime feel more stress, more burden, and less joy from the experience as a matter of consequence. However, here we are. The choices that I've made in life (in obedience and disobedience to God's will for me) have led me to this moment and to these five days of insanity. I truly believe that He has called me to my current occupation as a social worker. And as such, I do not have the ability to offer E the luxury of a slow and gradual achievement of this developmental milestone - I will have to return to my regular hours on Monday, hoping that she is able to fly from the nest with a newfound confidence in herself. I am definitely praying for peace and patience and an abundance of grace and love for her, so that she and I can navigate these few days with as little stress and as much joy as God will provide. I trust that just as God blesses and gives grace to other situations in which man has thwarted God's original design, He is more than capable of proving His power and might in our 'little bitty world.'

She's a big kid now.

Today we started potty training in the "I Have Decided to Follow Jesus" way. The way in which there is no turning back. The way in which we repeat the same four lines over and over and over and over and over and over again. You might have to have been raised Southern Baptist (it's a hymn I sang once a month growing up)...but it's a pretty good description of what our day has been like here in the Bost house.

I have never in my life been so excited about putting a 75-cent pull-up on my child (only to be thrown away a few mere hours later) as I was this afternoon at 2pm. She had done much better than I'd ever expected, but potty training is a T-E-D-I-O-U-S task, and my strengths definitely do not lie in disciplined activities over a long period of time.

So here was my plan:
- 'Clean and Dry' checks to her bottom/play area every 15 mins to see if she was holding it; one chocolate chip rewarded for being 'clean and dry'
- Bubbles ONLY when E sat at the potty and attempted (one time she sat there for 45 mins just blowing bubbles and catching them with me....actually some really precious time with my sweet girl)
- An additional piece of candy for successfully tee-teeing in the potty (3 pieces for pooping)
- Sticker chart for successful pottying
- Naked from the waist down (E)
- No "forcing" her to sit on the potty - just letting natural consequences take effect when she had an accident (cleaning up after herself, cleaning the floor, etc.) and making potty time really fun so she would want to stay and try for a long enough time


Here's how it worked today:
3 - accidents (in the morning - she stayed dry all afternoon!)
1 - 'watch me, mom' episode that thankfully I was able to end abruptly and scoot her off to finish in the potty
1 - completely and totally independent, successful tee-tee in the potty
9 - stickers for making it to the potty in time!! (she got 3 at once for pooping)
1 - 'clean and dry' check for mom (E walked up behind me, swiped my bottom, and asked "Mom, are you clean and dry?" Once she confirmed that I was, she offered me a piece of 'play' chocolate from her kitchenette :)
4,000 - 'clean and dry' checks for E (1 check every 15 mins for the whole day - I'm too tired to do the math, but 4000 feels about right)
3,500 - chocolate chips awarded to E for being 'clean and dry'
9 - pieces of candy for making it to the potty (yes....in ADDITION to the chocolate chips.....)
1 - bowl of ice cream for her first success (Thanks, G!!)
4 - cups of coffee for me so that I could keep up with the 2-yr-old on the sugar high

All in all, actually a really successful "first" day of potty training. The best memory I think will be the continuous chocolate mustache she wore, evidence of her success at not having an accident. Day 1 down...4 more to go!

Like Father, Like Son

Jehovah-jireh

Jehovah-jireh: The Lord Who provides; the Lord Who sees; the Lord Who will see to it that my every need is met; the One Who knows my need because He sees; the One Who is able to meet my need in just the right time as He did for Abraham; the One Who can meet it fully.


A few weeks back, our little family was over at our friends' house having dinner and spending some quality time together. E absolutely adores their kids, and follows them around like a little puppy...laughing at their silliness, playing with their toys, trying to do everything they do. They encourage us and offer wisdom to us as parents, and are living life fully to the glory of the Savior, so we gravitate toward spending our free evenings with them when we can. 


After finishing up dinner, C and I decided to make an ice cream run - one of our little "summertime" things. On the way out the door, I reminded E to finish her dinner so that she might be able to have some ice cream when we got back, and she trotted off to the kitchen.


Well, apparently at some point during our outing, E slipped out the back door of the house, wandered into the street where she was spotted and chased down by one of the neighbors, who - once he caught up to her - knocked on the front door and returned her safely to her daddy's arms. Though the whole episode could not have lasted more than five minutes, my heart aches to imagine the potential for danger in those brief moments.


Of course, all had been settled by the time C and I returned, but even the fact that I was absent for the entire situation brought an added measure of fear for having absolutely no control whatsoever of what had just happened. To say that L and I were shaken doesn't even begin to describe our emotions. We rode a pretty serious roller coaster for the next 24 hours, both trying to search out God's purpose for not only exposing E to such danger but also protecting her so miraculously - all within an extremely short amount of time. 


Though I believe I still have lessons to learn from this, here are a few things God has revealed to me so far: When I focus on my inadequacies as a parent that may have surely led to this event, I feel nothing but shame and helplessness. But when I focus on the amazing protection and providence of an Almighty Jehovah-jireh, I cannot deny His faithfulness, His enduring love, His amazing grace. I cannot help but praise a God who would see fit to meet me in my weakness and prove His strength. I cannot help but to humbly say Thank You for an act of mercy that was totally undeserved. And I cannot help but be reminded that above all of my plans, He is the One Who is in control. Focusing on myself leads to death and emotional devastation, but focusing on Him leads to life and hope in the One Who promises to "see to it that my every need is met."


"For the Lord is good; His steadfast love endures forever, and His faithfulness to all generations." Psalm 100:5

Relationships are more important than being right.

This is one of those things that I wrestle with God about every once in a while. I don’t mean for that to sound trite – He is a Holy God, and I believe we owe Him instant submission to His perfect will in every situation. I believe that…but I do not always give Him that (and I am so thankful for His unending grace for me).

So I absolutely admit that my “wrestling” is also disobedience (and while I’m at it, I might as well admit that it happens more than “every once in a while”). God gave me a brain that seeks security in logic, in the letter of the law, in what I see as just and right. And just like all good gifts from Father, Satan is quick to twist what is meant for God’s glory into a temptation to believe that I actually know better than my omniscient God. When the Spirit calls me to let go of being right in and instead walk in obedience to Him, I have this moment where I feel like a 3-year-old in my heart. But…God! What that person did was wrong! My thoughts are higher than your thoughts, and my ways are higher than your ways. But…God! I have forgiven them before, only to be betrayed again! Are you saying that I should just forgive and trust them again without any repercussions? Forgive others, so that your Father in Heaven may forgive you. Seventy times seven, J. But…God! What if it happens again? Place your hope in me. I am always faithful. I am always true. But…God! It did not honor you, and they should be punished for that. I am the only just King, Who sits on the Throne. I have chosen to forgive you over and over again, J. Who are you to decide who deserves the shed blood of my one and only Son?

And you get the picture. I am a finite human being with a very limited understanding of justice that is only further skewed by the ugly sin that entangles me. No way could I ever be more “right” than God. And he’s doing some pretty tough chiseling on my square brain when it comes to relationships: believing in others, trusting others, living in unity with those around me, even when it hurts a little. But that is the model that Jesus set for us here on earth: growing in favor with God and with man. Living peaceably with others. Forgiving sins that were in direct conflict with scriptural law. I feel like such a Pharisee when I realize how much of His life He devoted to relationships with others, and compare that to how much I live my life making sure that I’m abiding by the law.

“One who has been touched by grace will no longer look on those who stray as "those evil people" or "those poor people who need our help." Nor must we search for signs of "loveworthiness." Grace teaches us that God loves because of who God is, not because of who we are.” (What's So Amazing About Grace? by Philip Yancey)

An Answered Prayer

This post is dedicated to my friend, M, for being there for me in a BIG way today.

Tonight on the way home, I stopped by the grocery store to grab a few staples - milk, yogurt, etc. While there, my husband texted: he was in the mood for some ice cream. So when I'd gone through my list, I finished off my shopping in the frozen foods aisle.

As I made my decisions, a man walked up beside me and grabbed some ice cream as well, making an off-hand comment about whether or not I like Haagen Dazs. I smiled politely and replied that it didn't really matter to me - I was just looking for certain flavors. He kept talking and I kept looking for my ice cream, being polite but not overly friendly, but getting a little more uncomfortable with the fact that he kept talking to me. As I was walking away, he said, "I'm going to do something for you - I'm going to buy you this Haagen Dazs ice cream."

"No, that's alright," I replied.

But he insisted. "I'll just have to find you after I check out, and give this to you," he continued.

"I'm checking out now," I told him. I really just wanted to get out of there as soon as I could without him following me.

"Well, I am too," he said. As he followed me from the ice cream aisle to the check-out line, he started to ask more personal questions like where I was from and where I'd gone to school. And somewhere in those few steps, I began to PANIC. I needed a rescue. I needed to get to my car without him seeing where I was parked. I needed to know he wasn't scoping me out like a predator seeks out unsuspecting women. I needed God to miraculously intervene on my behalf. I prayed for all these things as I scanned my yogurt and my milk and my ice cream.

As I finished paying, mind racing with what to do next, afraid to lift my eyes, I heard a voice, "Hey, J!" And I looked up and met eyes with one of my husband's good buddies. Honest to goodness, I felt like kissing him...but I didn't. ;) When his wife (and my friend), M, walked up behind him, though, I hugged her tightly while quickly explaining the sketchy situation and begging her to walk me to her car in case the man followed me to the parking lot. She got her keys from her husband, and we walked toward the door together. We passed the man, who extended the ice cream to me, but clearly picked up the signals that I was finished with our conversation. As we walked to the car, I recounted all that had happened while she watched for signs of the man following us. When she determined that he was nowhere to be seen, we redirected to my car to load the groceries.

I know some people would've been more verbally combative with him - I'm not great with words under pressure, so I did what I always do: shut down and walk away. Some people I know would have noticed those red flags a LOT sooner than I did - it's true that I was definitely naive to the potential peril. However it happened, though - I do know one thing for sure: my God was my Deliverer tonight. He answered my prayer - overtly and immediately. He protected me from what was certainly a sketchy, if not dangerous, situation. And He loves me. He really, really loves me.

Our God is a God of salvation, and to GOD, the Lord, belong deliverances from death. -Psalm 68:20

Some Things Are Just Meant To Be...

Being Real is Scary

This vulnerability thing really is a tough one for me. I'm always surprised when someone opens up and shares something precious to them with me - I don't have incredible social skills, so I've always wondered what happened to get us to a place where they felt like they could trust me with such valuable information. But I listen. I pray. I try very hard to let God do the judging and the correcting and the teaching, and I simply take in. I pray again that they don't ask for my advice - my social skills don't usually let me move quickly enough to be able to offer something of value. I'm a processor, not a reactor. I don't take sides quickly because honestly it takes me a while to even figure out what the game is and decide if I should be in it or on the sidelines.

I've sat down at the computer what seems like a million times over the past couple of weeks to write down some of the thoughts swirling through my brain. I've got a lot that I really want to capture in writing - a lot about life, a lot about lessons I'm learning, a lot about some great people that I'm learning valuable lessons from, a lot about this incredible family that God has blessed me with. But every time I sit down, my hands freeze on the keypad. As much as I want to say what is going on in this brain of mine, I'll admit that sometimes I'm just a little terrified that there's a person out there reading my words as if I'm something other than a sinner saved by grace. I get nervous when I look back over my older posts and realize I've said something that could've been taken offensively or made a side comment that might not have represented Jesus the way that I mean to. I hate that one phrase or even one word could be held against me forever simply because I decided to write it down. It's vulnerable. It's scary. It's something that my flesh has been fighting against for a while now.

It's easy most days to write about E. She's young, mostly innocent of wrong, and her life is filled with joy on most occasions. But parenting is not my highest calling - loving God with all of my heart, mind, soul and strength is. It's easy to get confused sometimes and start working out my salvation on my own terms by doing the things that come most natural to me. What comes natural is different for everybody, but for me, parenting seems to come pretty naturally at this stage of life. It's tempting to throw all of my effort and energy into the task of being a mom, and I'll be honest - really rewarding on most days. It's harder to serve a God that I can't pin down and isn't controlled by my behavioral psychology - I must submit to HIS ways and trust HIS goodness, even when I can't explain it in any tangible or logical way. (Side note: If I served a God I could control in any way, He would be inferior to my power; therefore NOT A GOD. Just sayin'.)

So I've been asking myself this question...why do I write if it is so scary? Why am I compelled to put my thoughts into words even though I hold my breath every time I press the "post" button? Is it because I want to capture moments of life that I don't want to ever forget? Is it for the benefit of future generations? Is it for the family members that live too far away to see E regularly?

Yes........but ultimately, no. I write because God tells me to. In the end, I am accountable to Him and Him Alone. He is the One who knows and is able to judge the intentions of my heart with every word I write. I hope that one day future generations will be able to look back and see a great grandmother's life lived out before her True King, but even if they do not, I am here now - doing this one thing in obedience to my Savior and God. My ultimate hope is to glorify Him through the words that I write. If I take a social misstep here or there, well - that is all definitely easy for this gal to do now and again. I hold to these words as a reminder of my God who will forever have His mighty grip on me:

"I am glad He is God... and I am not.
He knows... when I do not know.
He is able... when I am not able.
He does it... when I can't do it.
He loves when I do not even know where to begin... and keeps on loving even when I fall short."

Soli deo gloria!!

What Do Eggs Have To Do With Easter?

I've received quite a bit of flack for taking seriously my responsibility to inform my friends, family and co-workers that egg hunting has nothing to do with Jesus' resurrection. After all, I learned this very important lesson from my husband on no less than the Wal-mart Easter aisle during our last date night.

In support of my new-found soapbox, I found this card at Target:

When I stumbled upon this card, I almost had to sit down on the floor I was laughing so hard. I mean, seriously - this is some good satire.

I've thought a lot about the words "balance" and "traditions" when it comes to celebrating the good ol' Easter bunny. Sometimes I think we as Christians can justify being disobedient to that still small voice of Jesus by covering up our actions with words like these. Are traditions and balance inherently wrong? Of course not! But if God is calling our little family to swim upstream against the societal norm of ________ (fill-in-the-blank), then I have to trust that He is doing intentionally for our benefit; that He - in His infinite wisdom - has a very specific plan and purpose for our lives in which we need to not be accustomed to that luxury or lifestyle. This is not a "judgment" call - it's an obedience call (in other words - having much or having little is neither good nor bad - it's all about walking within the will of God and obeying Him with what He has given us). So often I fall into the trap of making decisions based on social norms and customs instead of based on His whispers. I did that when we purchased our first house, and now we're getting ready to sell it for most likely a substantial loss (sigh).

When God whispers to us - when He breathes a radical, countercultural idea into our souls - it is always for His glory and for our good. Though we may not understand why God has impressed upon us a particular lens through which we see the world (in this case for me: egg hunts), we have to trust that He has a good plan and a beautiful purpose, and hold on to the glorious revealing of His completed works one day.

The LORD said, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by." Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, "What are you doing here, Elijah?" -1 Kings 19:11-13 NIV

My Little Black-Eyed Pea

Sooooo...if you live in our town and were walking or eating downtown tonight, you might've noticed a sweet little kiddo bouncing down the sidewalk with a ponytail and a cookie and a huge smile across her sweet little mouth.............right under the HUGE BLACK EYE that she got playing in my office last night.

This is not a wimpy little black eye, folks. It's the real deal. The funny part is, every time we passed someone, there was a noticeable trend: "Smile at the cute kid....wait for it....wait for it.....gawk at the black eye....then turn to check out the daddy to see if he looked like a potential offender." Hilarious. Funnier is that she was really proud of it and would point it out and talk about it even to a complete stranger, leaving them in a true conundrum of what might really be going on in our household.

I'm not thrilled that our Easter pictures consist of a major shiner, but then again - it could have been much worse, so I'm thankful that a shiner is all we got. After you get over the initial shock, it's even a little bit sweet, don't you think?

Chocolate

This is a 3-minute video that you are welcome to skip over. I promise it won't hurt my feelings. I certainly could have edited to make it much more concise, but then you would never understand how "unscripted" this event really was. You might even wonder if it really even happened the way it did.

But there are some moments in life that really are priceless. Some of them we are lucky enough to capture on film so that we can keep forever (as, ahem, blackmail).

Tonight I was lucky, and I really needed to prove to anyone who watches that this is just - plain and simple - real life with my little kiddo. :)

So Great

Today has been a hard day for many friends of mine. Though I did not know him personally, I understand that Mike Sweeney has lived a life that epitomizes Philippians 1:21, "For [Mike Sweeney], to live is Christ, AND to die is gain. He both lived in the fullness of Christ, and died to the gain of his Heavenly Father, leaving an incredible legacy of faith with his loved ones.

As I sat in church yesterday, I noticed a verse written on the dry erase board on the wall (our church is a school during the week), and the words hit me so powerfully in that moment that I had to write them down. It holds a lot of weight with many stories of cancer and unexpected loss and death that seems to just be happening all around me right now.

"Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men." Lamentations 3:32-33

How is it possible that an all-powerful, all-knowing, almighty God can unwillingly bring grief? Honestly, I do not have His mind, and I do not have the answer to that question. Lamentations 3 is full of the writer's conflict between the same God who purposes both calamity and good, who seemingly allows injustice to reign over a believer's life for a season before stepping forth and defending the cause of His beloved.

I'm not sure why, but I am intensely drawn toward the picture that God is tender and compassionate with me during the midst of the very trials that he ordained. Toward a God whose heart breaks as the waves he has made crash over me. Toward a God who is mysteriously able to sew painful stitches to heal a sinful, broken part of me.

Is He safe? No, but He's good. He's the King, I tell ya.

Egg Hunt 2010: Take 1

As is the tradition of this time of year, we celebrate the death and resurrection of our Lord and Savior by stuffing brightly colored plastic eggs full of instant teeth-rotting materials, "hiding" said eggs in 2-inch grass, and encouraging our young ones to get as many and as much as they can faster than anybody else so that hopefully they will become the "winner" of the prize egg.

At least, that's the lecture that my husband gave to me when we ended up on the Easter aisle at Wal-mart the other night at the end of a luxurious date. Love my man. :)

In good fashion with the commercial agenda, though, I packed up E this weekend and traveled to my home town for a really sweet little egg hunt that one of my high school friends' mom does each year. Last year, we weren't able to make it, so I was really looking forward to the "reunion" aspect of this little emerging tradition. And I wasn't disappointed. My mom even blocked off her very full tax season schedule (gasp!) to be able to be there. Trust me...it's a big deal for her to do that!

Looking at all the cameras, one-by-one, and saying "Cheese"

(none of the other kids care)

Look at all these kiddos!

Surveying the land of eggs

"Mommy, whatcha doin'?"

*love*!

For Me

Tonight I'm simply lost in the powerful reminder of a God who is FOR ME yesterday, today, and tomorrow. A God who is so unspeakably awesome and powerful that I am not even worthy to be compared, yet He both humbles and glorifies Himself in the way He pursues me. Incredible.

The Gift of Giving

Each year, my parents are way generous givers at Christmas. Each year, we always talk about it and about how we should instead organize a family project and do something "really meaningful" with our money instead of just using it to give things to each other. Implying, of course, (though definitely unintentionally), that giving gifts to each other isn't as meaningful.

And sometimes it's true. If we're honest, many times gifts aren't all that meaningful. Sometimes they're given out of obligation. Sometimes items get regifted in an effort to save money. Sometimes, the gift becomes the idol, and the sacrificial, selfless meaning behind a gift is entirely lost. Been there, done that for sure!

For some reason, though, each year our whole family is back around that Christmas tree giving gifts to one another. I think I know why...and it has something to do with the fact that my parents truly take pleasure in finding those gifts for their children that reach out and connect with us, that show their children that they truly take delight in us, that speaks that they know us both on a deep, heart level and also on a lighter, what-kind-of-things-make-you-smile level.

One of the things my parents seem to delight in giving to us are those rather "necessary" things (necessary being a relative term, of course) in life that just are sometimes a bummer to spend hard-earned dollars on. Like...

When I was in high school? Cool clothes.

In college? Expensive shampoo and conditioner.

As a wife? Starbucks!

And as a mom? Diapers. Always diapers.

This past year, my parents gave me a gift that would otherwise be beyond my budget but has since motivated me to do something I haven't been able to do as a mom: running. Now, ask me in high school if I would ever jump up and down over a jogging stroller and I would've given you the perfected, classic eye roll. Today.....well, that thing is priceless to me.

Thanks, mom and dad, for understanding and living out for me the picture God gives us in Luke 11:13 of how a (don't take the evil to mean more than what the scripture implies) parent willingly gives good gifts to their children. Maybe we'll make it around to a family project one day...but because that's what God lays on your heart, NOT because it holds more meaning!

If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” -Luke 11:13 NIV