Good News Deserves... Prayer!

I have joyful news to report!

We found out on Monday that we are having a baby boy, hopefully in March.  March 28th is my official due date, but I say "hopefully" because...

Baby looks great and is growing just as he should.  We did discover, via ultrasound, that I have complete placenta previa.  This is when the placenta is fully covering the cervix, making it impossible for the baby to be delivered naturally.  I wasn't surprised by this information at all, because I have had bleeding nearly every week of this pregnancy.  Thankfully it has been over three weeks since I've had bleeding, though.  I suspected, after some research, that something might be up with the placenta, as this was a very unusual thing for me to experience. Granted, it's been a while since I had a baby, and I am older, but it still was unusual. In some ways, it was comforting to have a reason for why this was happening.

However, after doing a little more research, I discovered that placenta previa can mean far more than just a c-section.  It can mean a host of dangerous things happening suddenly, like bleeding, even hemorrhage.  Which can lead to early birth via emergency c-section.  There are also even more serious things that can happen, like the placenta attaching itself to the uterus, requiring a hysterectomy in order to control bleeding.

But enough of the scary stuff.  The good news is this isn't the end of the story and there is the possibility that my placenta will migrate north as the baby grows.  He might pull it along with him.  We are asking all our friends and family to pray that this will happen.

I confess, it is really scary to think of what could happen.  But I'm so thankful for the peace that surpasses understanding.  I know that our baby, and I, am safe in the hands of the Lord.  We tend to think that in certain situations we are "safer" than in others.  We are "safe" if our test results come back normal.  We are "safe" if we are wearing our seat belt.  We are "safe" if all our ducks are in a row.

In truth, the Lord is showing me that I am always completely safe with Him in control.  And there is never, ever a moment when He is not.

Recently on Facebook I saw the status of someone I do not know.  You know how that is- you see all these posts from friends of friends, mostly things you don't want to. But this one said something like this: You always wonder how you will respond when such and such a thing happens- cancer, death, other difficult circumstances. You wonder if you will trust in the Lord, as you know you should.  And then the trial comes, the test not much different than what Abraham went through when asked to sacrifice Isaac.  And the Lord carries you. He is your constant presence reminding you that He is still the same loving God who is in control.  And you trust, maybe not perfectly, but His faithfulness provides your faith.

I am thankful that, though I don't like what is and what could be, I can dwell on the truth. His Spirit is with me and ministering truth to me.

Josh and I went out to celebrate after our sonogram. We bought a few things for our baby boy- some long sleeve onesies and a little sleeper with deer on it, a pair of jeans.  We pulled out baby's pictures to admire him.  The mere thought that anything could endanger his health and well-being just strengthens my love for him.  This child I have only seen through ultrasound.  It again just reminds me of how much deeper God's love is for me and how much he cares for our children, too.  This love that we have for our children is just a mere reflection of God's love for us.  And if I feel so fiercely protective of this child, wow... how much more is my Father in Heaven protective of his children.

It doesn't mean things will follow my plan, but it does mean I can fully trust the Lord with my life and my child's.

So we ask you to pray for the very best situation in the coming months.

And we rejoice that  God has seen fit to give us another son!

What Takes Faith?

Long ago, I remember just when, I was reading this little book and one line stood out to me. It has stayed with me all these ten years.  It was right on the cusp of our burgeoning home Bible study turning into a full-fledged church.

It was this line, this question:

What in my life takes faith?

Oh, and it stopped me in my tracks. Because, you see, I like all my ducks in a row. I like all my t's crossed and my i's dotted.  I like money in the bank, assurance of a positive outcome, and very little room for error.  I still like these things, but I have asked myself this question over and over again the past ten years.

What in my life takes faith?

If I am working so hard to make sure everything is just right, what am I leaving up to God?  And what am I missing  out on?

Leaving our home church to start a church, that took faith.

No regrets, though.

Staying there through several job losses when we had the chance to go, that took faith.

Finally leaving home and mother and father and church and the best people in the world, that took faith.

Still does.

Homeschooling these children.

When the economy is bad and getting worse, and what makes financial sense is to go to work and put these kiddos in school so we can put them through college and put braces on their teeth.

When my fourth grader still doesn't read at grade level and the girls' bickering drives me mad and the loneliness mounts up and up and up.

By faith, I still choose to homeschool.

Praying for a year for a baby and believing that despite that last miscarriage 3 years ago that wrecked my hormones, that despite my age (a geriatric 36) and my husband's (a youthful 39), that even though it may seem absolutely crazy, God has promised it. And we step out on faith.

And baby is here, within.

When my only friend says she is moving away, not losing heart takes faith.

Stepping out, deciding I am the one God is calling to start a homeschool co-op in my town.  Seeing my mediocrity as a mom every day through my own eyes and these crazy kids and my own inability to do even one successful thing on my own... and yet following through, in faith.  In perfect peace. Despite minimal interest, I proceed.

There are many people who have made greater steps and sacrifices of faith than me.  But I am so thankful they are not my measuring rod.  The Lord God says that without faith, it is impossible to please Him.  And he knows my frame, He knows I am but dust, and He sees these baby steps as giant leaps, and He is pleased.

I've been considering how often I let fear stand in the way of even small steps of faith.  I recently posted a picture of me with my baby bump on Facebook, finally announcing our pregnancy to the outside world.  I hemmed and hawed and stressed and fretted that I should A. post the picture and B. announce the pregnancy, even after hearing the baby's heartbeat for the second time.  All these thoughts went through my mind.  I could still lose this baby.  Is it really safe to tell?  Is it okay to post this picture?  Will people think I'm showing off?  Will my bare arms offend someone?

I tend to be a very private person. Except perhaps here, I am more transparent. After all, I have a readership of about two (hi Moms!).  I rarely post my writing on Facebook.  And it's often fueled by fear. Fear of offending, fear of being transparent.  So posting that picture and that announcement was just a huge step of ... faith.  Checking  my heart. Why am I posting this?

Because I am overwhelmed with joy!  And the fear is always trying to steal my joy and this one time I just want to banish it and be brave and tell everyone, no matter what they think, that we have cause for joy.

And that is what I see when I look at that picture.

The faith God has given me. The joy He has put in my heart.  This journey He has us on, to walk by faith and not by sight.

To give Him room to do incredible things, even if it means scattering all our ducks.

So right now, when I look at my life, and ask What takes faith?, there is much.  And I can't wait to see what the Lord does with my little mustard seeds.

The Waiting

Tom Petty sang it well.  The waiting is the hardest part.

How often I hear one of my kiddos lament that they just can't wait til tomorrow for their friend to come over. Or they just can't wait  x number of weeks to earn enough money to buy what they want.

And I'm thinking in my head, Get used to it kiddos.  The waiting is part of this worldly life.  Yes, one of the hardest parts.

I shouldn't quote a rock n roller without quoting words more infinitely true and inspired, the words of God written through his prophet Habbakuk.

"Though the fig tree does not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food,  the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet will I take joy in the Lord. I will rejoice in the God of my salvation." vs 3: 17, 18

This is where I'm at.  Still and again.  Waiting. Waiting on God, who is faithful and true, who keeps all his promises, who never leads me astray. But who does not act in the timing that I think He should act.  Almost never.

I remember waiting, with hope, on this amazing man who is now my husband.  I confess, I didn't have to wait quite as long as I thought I would to become his bride.  From a three week courtship to a three month engagement- that's a pretty quick trip to the altar.  But I remember how even that felt like an eternity.

I remember waiting to sell our former home, hoping every day to receive a call from the realtor that someone wanted to view it.  We got three calls. Third time was the charm. Just 77 days to sell it in a very depressed market, yet every day seemed like forever.

One day, I hope to look back on what is presently almost three years of waiting.  It may be, and probably will be, longer.  But I hope to look back on these three years of waiting for something.  Anything.  That next move, that next step, that act of God that finally makes these dry, desert, lonely years blossom into the fruitful and abundant, the gushing springs.

At this point, there is very little blossom, very little fruit.  Our endeavors seem to wither and fail.   It can be so easy to dwell on the empty places.

And yet.  In the waiting, the joy of the Lord can be our ready strength.  And if we yield to that, there is abundance after all.

Two "Oldies" to Try

I am decidedly behind the times.

I am rarely current on movies or books and pay little attention to what's new in music aside from the occasional scan through the radio stations.  Really, I have mediocre interest, and even less time for staying up-to-date on things.

But often, some of the best things out there find their way to me.

Books like The Kite Runner by Khaled Housseini.

I found a copy of this book at an annual library book sale on the Fourth of July, along with a few other gems (A Thousand Splendid Suns and The Book Thief).

The Kite Runner is easily one of my favorite books now, perhaps even vying for first place with To Kill a Mockingbird.  It is beautiful, redemptive, and perhaps, strangely, a book that drew me closer to God, though the god of this book was Allah.   While reading the recent history of Afghanistan, and seeing life through an average Afghans, my eyes were opened to the deep love my Father God has for these people.  To their suffering.  To their very humanness which is so like my own.  These Muslim people are not worthy of my fear or my scorn, but my compassion and the same love Jehovah-God feels for them.

Another book found it's way to me.

One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp.

Many a time I've thought of trying it out, but haven't.  I recently found a copy at Goodwill and began reading it on a rainy day this week.

These tears well up in my eyes, but don't fall, as I read it.  Because I can relate to it so well.  The void between being saved from my sins but living a full and abundant life of joy in the midst of the daily.  Just as she began a list of gifts,  I began one. A list of gifts God gives me in the everyday.  Because this is what God has given me and I want to call it good.

More than likely I will not stay current on movies, unless it's the latest in the Marvel Avenger's series. Josh looks forward to those and they are about the only films we'll go to the theater to see.  And even though I am a music buff, the new stuff can be so full of ick that we stick to Christian radio for the most part.

So you'll never find me reviewing what's Cool and New, but maybe give these few oldies a shot.

Intentional

Sometimes you're not invited.  Sometimes nobody talks to you.  Sometimes you feel just plain left out.

And it's not intentional.  Most of the time, people really don't mean to do it.

And truthfully, you don't mean to do it either, but you sometimes do.

It's not on purpose.

Life is busy. Kids are crazy.  Work is stressful.  The house is messy.

You've barely got time to think about what's for dinner.  Me, I've got a child turning nine at the end of the week and I've barely had time to think about a party and I just bought her a present.  I would never, ever intentionally forget her big day.  I would never put it off on purpose.

That doesn't mean it hasn't happened.

Sometimes I'm not invited to something, or my kids are not.  Sometimes I feel completely alone in a crowd. Sometimes I feel just plain left out, and so do my kids.

And when I think about it rationally, when I let the Holy Spirit minister to me in the sadness of it, I give the benefit of the doubt, I think the best of people, and realize it was not intentional.

And the Lord teaches me through it.

To be one who is Intentional.

About seeking out the lonely.

About finding a face to smile into.

About starting a conversation.

About inviting not just friends but those who could be friends.

About noticing people and loving people.

I will do many things that were unintentional and not on purpose.

But I hope to do even more things that are.

It's not every morning you wake up feeling blessed.

So when you do, you take it and savor it.

I feel blessed this morning.

(Side-note: Please excuse any use of the f-word (feelings), k?  It has it's place. Don't over analyze.)

Yesterday we celebrated my firstborn's 11th birthday.  The further we get into these double digits, the weirder it seems.  It's only up from here.  He'll be in the double digits for the rest of his life.  Those single digit years, you only get nine of them.  I wish I had savored them more, but I am excited, yes, excited, to savor the upcoming teen years. I'd probably choose to skip the awkward preteen years, but I've never heard of that happening.  So I'll try to savor those too.

Yesterday, I got to see some of the ladies I love most in the world.  My Lincoln girls.  I miss what we had there so much, but the Lord is so faithful to remind me: you'll be friends forever.   We have bonds that will never be broken, built on history together and the love of Christ.

And then I'm reminded that God is building new bonds in our new place.  History takes time.  The Lord subtracted nothing from our lives when He moved us.  He only planned to add to our lives.

The sun is shining bright when the weatherman predicted rain for days on end.

I'm listening to this new song by Casting Crowns and praying the Lord will make it true of my life:

To know Him and make Him known.

To live more than an ordinary life 

To do more than just survive

To thrive...

Knowing that the key is knowing Him and making Him known.  There is nothing ordinary about that. Walking with Jesus is the best thing going.  Joy unspeakable.

No wonder I'm feeling blessed this morning.

Seasons Change

Yesterday was this gorgeously sunny, yet slightly cool day. Not a cloud in the sky.

The oldest two got on their bikes and Josh and I got on our running shoes. We strapped Petite into the jogging stroller and we were off.  We ran/biked/strolled almost four miles.  Together. As a family.  Four out of five of us were sweaty.

This was the second time in just a few days.

And about the first two times in all these years of parenting that we were doing something like this.  All of us, exercising together.

It made me think of all the things we haven't been able to do with young children.  And I do mean the things *we*  haven't been able to do.  Just like yours, our family is very unique.  There are things yours can do happily that we cannot and vice versa.  In fact, our family motto is "Just because it's supposed to be fun, doesn't mean it is".  Things like parades.  Not fun for us.  Gardening. Not fun for us.  You may have had the littles out running with you when they were toddlers. You may have teenagers that still won't run with you.

Hey, you may not run. It's cool.

For us, this was nice.  A new season has come upon us.

We can leave the kiddos for short periods of time, alone.  I'm talking just running to the store around the corner, no more than thirty minutes, but wow is it nice!  No longer dragging all three kids into the store to get a gallon of milk and loaf of bread is- dare I say it?- priceless.

Having two out of three be able to secure themselves with seat belts- very nice.

Conversations are gradually getting deeper.

Tantrums are waning.

We can drive to Florida and back without potty stops every hour; without wailing children in the back seat.

Directions can be read and followed without the help of mom... sometimes.

I remember when Mister was still a baby. I thought he'd never learn to feed himself without making a mess.  And then the day came and went when he could.  And there was something else I was waiting for him to do on his own.

Brown-Eyed Girl has been slow to become an independent reader. But now she's reading on her own, improving by leaps and bounds every week.  She wasn't like her older brother in this, but she got there.

Everything really is a season.  Those things that are miserable to do right now because the kids aren't ready... they will probably get easier.  And if they don't, if they never enjoy parades, it just means you get to fill that time with something that is better and more fun for your family.

I know I should be saying to appreciate the season you're in, the diapers, or hormonal teenagers, or what have you. But you already know that.  I just mean to say that things change. Before you know it your kids are speeding past you on their bikes, no more training wheels.  And when you hug them you realize they need to start wearing deodorant.

And so begins another season.