The dark times.....

“In the dark times 
Will there also be singing? 
Yes, there will also be singing. 
About the dark times.” 
― Bertolt Brecht


This is one of the darkest times of year for many people.  I am struck by the fact that hope and light do not always shine during this dark time for everyone.  Many are missing loved ones, struggling financially, are blinded by the consumerism of the season, or simply missing some much needed sunshine.  It is hard for many, and I am struck by the emptiness that can be found in such a "full" time.

I have no magic cure for this feeling...for the dark times.  But I do know this: there is always light.  We do live in a dark world, but it is not without light.  The first place I look for light is in my Jesus, after all, He is the light of the world. There is also light in others.  Look around.  Watch The lady smiling at you at Chick fil-a.....the cable repair guy who was on time....the friend that you can always call....the lady that bought coffee for the person behind her in the Starbuck's line....the fact that most of the homeless shelters are booked for volunteers this year for Christmas.  

There are lights all around.  There is light in you- have you hidden it? Divided it? Dimmed it in fear? Let it be covered up by other things?

I find myself, during the dark times, looking for a "cause" to certain miseries.  If I am unhappy, it must be someone's fault.  Usually, I find it easiest to point my finger at the closest unsuspecting victim.  Poor Will.
I am not the only one that does this. This happens all the time in marriage.  Our logic: "If I am unhappy, then it must be my husband/wife's fault." The fallacy or error here is: It was not your spouse's job to make you happy....it is not the purpose of marriage. Let me say that again. Happiness and Perfection were not God's purpose for marriage.  It isn't the purpose of your job to make you happy.  It isn't the job of your kids to make you happy. It isn't your friend's responsibility to make you happy.  It isn't your church's job to make you happy. It isn't your parents' job to make you happy......

Starting to feel alone?  Are you asking yourself: "Who is left?......I am unhappy. I am alone."

Good. Then God has you where He wants you....empty and needy and ready to be filled to the brim.  He sure can't fill you to the brim when you have tried to cram all those other things in your tank to try to make yourself happy.  Besides, the bitterness and anger that comes from these things not meeting your happiness needs will drive you to destruction: divorce, alcohol, overeating, emotional paralysis, immobilization, drugs, isolation, depression......you name it.... You know what I am talking about:
 "I fell out of love"
 "Noone values me in my job"
 "My friends don't call me"
"I drink to have a good time"
"We just weren't happy at that church"

So, a Christmassy cheerful challenge........

To stop looking at who or what is making you unhappy and focus lighting up your own life.
1) To look to your Savior- the one that came and died for us and would have done that if it had just been you and you alone on this earth....
2) To look around and appreciate those that are shining their light- to serve them, honor them, thank them for lighting up this dark world.
3) to decide today that your light is your responsibility and not the responsibility of your husband, your boss, your mom, your friend....You are the only one who can find true joy- true happiness- the kind of joy that doesn't disappear when the bills come, or when tragedy strikes, or when your marriage doesn't look like you want it to......the Joy of the Lord....the kind that is in you even in the darkest times....

What are you doing to seek that Joy?.....experience that Joy?.......spread that Joy?


Too harsh?  Not if your life is at stake.......

Plan B

This little girl's name is Vivienne.  That is the original French spelling.  I love the way the name trails off with an "e"....I am a little obsessed with it.....For a few reasons: 

1) It is French

2) It is an older name

3) It means "Alive" and "Life"....Not just in symbolism, but in the Latin origin.

but most of all

4) When I mentioned it as a possibility to Will, he literally put his hand on his heart and gasped.  He then proceeded to call her "Vivi" and he put his head straight to my belly to talk to her.  I was hooked.

God has spoken to me very clearly a few times about this baby.  I already mentioned to you that he gave me the word "Spunky" for her...which, I know doesn't seem like a word the Almighty might use...but He did.

The next thing that He spoke over her was that her life was in the hands of no Doctor or nurse....no professional.....not even in our hands.  

The thing that He has revealed to me in this advent season about Vivi is that she is no Plan (B).  

I was meant to conceive and carry Branson for the exact time that God gave her to me.  I was meant to bond with her, dream of her, learn about her personality.  I was meant to be blessed in His giving, and I was meant to experience the loss of her.  I am done asking "why".  I simply continue to ask Him "how" to walk it out...how to be honest about the grief and the joy that I experience every day.  Vivienne is not a replacement baby, just as dinner doesn't replace breakfast.  You need both.....Both were meant to feed me, nourish me, teach me. Both are blessings from the Lord.  Both are my girls.

It is still a mystery- the perfect will of God. I believe that He has ordained my path, that He holds my life in His hands, that His plan for the universe included His plan for my days. 

 I also believe that our choices dictate how much of His will we get to walk out ourselves.  My choices concerning Branson, for example: to have never been willing to get pregnant and try for a 3rd baby......to have aborted her when I learned of her health concerns.....to have disregarded and dismissed her as a life, a daughter-never acknowledging her personhood after she was gone.......to become bitter after she died- angry at God and unforgiving- drowning in self-pity.....to allow her death to create a pattern of walking in fear in my life from here on out....to decide God was mean, sadistic or just didn't know what He was doing.

There were so many choices. Each of those choices determined whether or not I would experience and learn the will of God in the way He had set out for me... 

My life is not a series of Plan (Bs).  God did not look at my screwed up choices and wonder "what am I going to do with her now?"  He knew my shortcomings, my experiences, my gifts as he formed me inside of my mother.  He loved me enough to give me the freedom to choose and blessed me over and over again even when I failed Him, even when I chose to go my own way- He drew me back to himself time and time again.

Why am I learning this in Advent?  Because it isn't the first time that a baby has NOT been God's Plan (B).  Jesus was not a last minute effort by the Almighty to save us.  It was His plan from the fall.  It was the only way to bring restoration to the world. It was the only thing that would satisfy the wrath of sin. It was the only perfect sacrifice that would atone for my choices.  It was part of THE Master Plan....and so is Vivi.  

JKB

My dad was 100 different people to 100 different people.  
He fit in everywhere....
Even when he had "worn out his welcome", he would simply disappear for a while.....when he returned, you had no choice but to simply be happy he came back.


My big "brother" Bo put it best....He told me this one time: Sometimes, I would be going somewhere I knew he was gonna be...and when things weren't good I would be so mad...I would resolve on the way there to not speak to him or even give him a piece of my mind for the ways he may have hurt you or your mom....but then, I would get there.....and he would smile and laugh and I would find myself in a high-five or hug within minutes.... He just had a way of making you remember who he was deep down.


My dad grew up the middle of 2 girls.  His dad worked hard, and after a car accident that medically paralyzed my grandfather, the dynamics became different between them.  My grandfather taught himself to walk again, but my father never seemed to get over the realization of how frail life was...and now, how seemingly frail his dad was.


He was handsome...thick curly hair, slender build, wickedly sparkling dark eyes. It was almost as if he had perfected some dashing character that would allow him to cause mischief and walk away untouched.  This kept him from reaping many of the consequences of boyhood.  He was able to maneuver and manipulate his way through almost any circumstance.  He was smooth...and like I said: when he wasn't smooth anymore, he would just pick up and move circles for a while...let you forget.....then, when he popped back in, you would be happy to see him....smooth.


Ace Miller, the owner of Golden Gloves Boxing in Knoxville, was a friend of my dad's for years.  He had promised Ace one night that he would take photos of the fights if Ace bought this new camera equipment.  They discussed the details, and about 3 hours into the fight my dad shows up....late and drunk.  Ace could barely tell the rest of the story for laughing. In order to make things right, my dad had found an old derby hat and stuck a card in it which read "press pass." Ace said that he just couldn't be mad at a guy who made sure he came late, drunk AND in costume.........


It wasn't always funny that he came drunk, late and in costume...Don't get me wrong. I do not want to make light of the very disease that took my dad from me- took the husband from my mom.   The character qualities within who my dad was remained the same.  Alcohol kept him from being his best, kept him from providing for his family, allowed him to forget his priorities and loosed a tongue from hell. It caused more hurt in his lifetime than anyone should experience.  However, who he was- his personality did not change.
I can read excerpts from his yearbook and know that he was the same way in 10th grade.  Smooth, sweet, funny, articulate, smart....and a dreamer.  


His yearbook drastically changed from Junior to Senior year. He went from being involved in many things to being involved in nothing. The girls stopped saying things like "stay sweet" and started saying things about past times and "remember when" and the messages from guys got cruder, uglier and full of the loss of hope. It was easy to see his circle had changed, his goals had changed.....It was easy to see the invasion of alcohol and depression.....depression and anger....anger and alcohol....the cycle...who knows why it started or which one caused which....and it doesn't matter now. 


He loved sports. He would tell highly animated and dramatic stories about scoring the winning touchdown in the championship game. He most always left out the detail that that "game" was an 8th grade club team. He told me at least 5 different stories of how he lost his front two teeth..and I overheard at least 3 other versions as well.  He recalled his youth with vivid storyline and characters came to life- Spider, Monkey, Duck, Otis..... He had friends that knew everything about him...all of it, the good and the bad.  When I get a chance to spend time with them it makes me feel close to him...because they have all yelled at him too...they have all held him in a hug, loaned him money, cussed him out and drove him home...
They all know his story....his stories......


He was an artist....but a perfectionist.  A hard combination for creativity.  He was hard on himself.  The story I remember is of him erasing holes in his kindergarten writing paper trying to get it just right.  I watched him work on paintings, paint over them, start again, working on them for months.......
He was rarely satisfied with his creative work.  He wrote short stories, poetry and songs.  He was good.  He was never validated in that....except maybe by a few teachers, family members and me.
He always wanted fame, recognition, validation, affirmation.  


He loved to give gifts- and they were followed with months of "did you like it?"......sometimes the little boy inside was all too visible to the outside world.


An easel under the Christmas tree with a note from Santa on it- a new bike wheeled in from the next room...the gifts were never what I had asked for- they were always beyond my understanding, what he knew I would not expect- and it was all in the presentation...the surprise, the event.  So, naturally, when he was absent from the event, the hole was deep....the absence was tangible and thick.


He was a romantic, a dreamer- found ways to romanticize anything- a song, a starry sky, an 8th grade football story, the loss of a dog, a letter from prison- they call carried with them an air of fictionalized drama...of personal quest and adventure.  Some people call this lying;)


He used to bring Jaden 2 Quarters, 2 Dimes, 2 Nickels, and 2 Pennies everytime he saw her....He wanted to be remembered...for them to have "a thing".....History, stories, a past, a memory...it was all very important to him. He had "a thing" with everyone...each of you that knew him could describe something you "always did" or he "always said to you"...He wanted to make sure he mattered to you..that he had left an imprint.   I think it worked.






As his only little girl, his only child I will say this: I think he was the most wonderful and beautiful man on the planet. Not a day goes by that I do not think of him, wish for time, regret decisions, remember, laugh, and ache for him.   

Papa- the journey through losing my dad.

The stages of grief: 
Shock and Denial
Pain and Guilt
Anger
Depression
Upward Turn
Reconstruction
Acceptance




4 years ago today, I stood teaching a 12th grade English class.....At 10 am I noticed my phone blinking a number I did not recognize.  Partly because I was teaching, and mostly because I was angry and stubborn, I did not answer it.  


I was angry and hurt....because after 2 years of partial sobriety-the longest he had ever gone- my dad was on a binge....It was December......he was an alcoholic.....the pattern was all too familiar, and I was all too fed up. I knew this dance, and I usually played it with anger- then forgiveness.


I had decided I was not ready to make nice....and I did not speak to him.  He did not call again- 


The following day, a Friday, I received a phone call that he was gone.  He had died in his bed- trying to recover and detox.  He was 54 years old.


I could go into all the details- the beautiful conversation that occurred between he and my mother the night before- the AA books out- the Bible open beside his bed littered with gatorade bottles- the journal of letters to me I found after his death- the perfect restoration of who he now is in heaven...but I don't want to.


Today, I am feel hurt and guilty and angry.....stuck all the way back in stage 2.....


I guess what I am saying is that I miss him....and that grief, loss, conflict, anger- they all ebb and flow....and I don't pretend to know what tomorrow holds.  I do know this: I wish that forgiveness had been wrapped in truth...instead of withholding it until I felt like it... It is possible to forgive when you don't feel like it..and most of the time, I should.


Tomorrow marks 4 years and I miss him more than ever.  The missing him keeps him close- and I like it that way.

I miss you.

maybe it is the weather.......

we have had some wishy washy weather here lately....70 degrees and drizzles and two days later- freezing temperatures and snow flurries.  Is it any wonder that my emotions have been following the weather patterns?- and when I say patterns, I mean absolutely no warning or direction whatsoever?  

This has been one of the first Christmases that I have actually been able to really rest and enjoy the season. I did my shopping online...was able to really relax about the decor....have been focusing daily on Advent. The Advent part has kicked my tail- it is so cool to see God reveal things again and again to my "old" heart. He makes me young again, and I am filled with wonder at the fulfillment of the prophesy...of the hero story that was being told thousands of years ago.

Last night, the youth group lay hands on me and my baby girl.  Then, when I got home, I had a beautiful message from a friend about the fact that she missed my Branson.  I was able to watch Branson's video again- but this time, I was feeling kicks. Kicks from her sister.  It was a powerful night.


This morning, I awake to cold sunshine....I think the weather is now copying MY feelings:)

worst blogger ever.

I'm not sure why I have not been writing....perhaps it is confusion- the jumble of my thoughts....or perhaps the hectic nature of the holidays....i doubt it.
I think, more than anything else, it is the positioning of my heart in still expectation.  I find myself standing at attention in the presence of this miracle that is occurring within me.  I find myself holding my breath- attempting to enjoy moments instead of worry them into the next trimester. I find myself happy.  But more than happy, I find myself knowing I am walking within that path He has for me.  Most of the time, I am aware of His presence.

There are other times, however, where I forget to hold his hand crossing the street. I forget to look for traffic, listen.  I walk without Him. Usually this happens on the cusp of a doctor's appointment. I find myself looking to them for answers, for comfort, for reassurance.  It is never found there- I only end up running desperately back across the street for the hand of my Savior.  He is still there...in fact, He walked me across the street anyway- never left.

It isn't as if my prayers haven't answered.....I conceived, am carrying an active and perfect baby girl.....a GIRL.....a girl.... I keep saying it.  I am amazed.  A girl. Branson's sister.  An amazing gift to us on the anniversary of Branson's due date.  I couldn't be more thankful.

I still covet your prayers. Can I spell them out? Can I be specific?

1) Health for her and for I...and for the rest of the family during this time.
2) for a newness of this season. Because of the exact same due date, I find myself repeating the year...wearing the same maternity clothes to the same holiday events, remembering Branson's pregnancy, having semi-deja-vu experiences...feeling like I have been pregnant for so long......Pray for newness and fresh memories.
3) for the kids as we near the 30 week mark....as we remember finding out about Branson's health problems.....for their peace and faith.

Most of all
4) For Will: For peace and strength for him. That I would be a  helper to him. That he would feel the presence of the Lord in these moments. That God would strengthen him from within...miraculously. That he would feel a release of pressure, anxiety, discontentment......Please pray for him.

As for me, I am basking in the glow that is this holiday season...feeling so grateful...remembering the babies not with us this season...and marveling at how beautiful their sweet caroling voices must sound to our Jesus.

"A thankful heart is a happy heart....."- Junior Asparagus

It happens all the time....it is just exceptionally easy to send up thanks when you are surrounded by colorful leaves...
And of course, like every other year, I feel exceptionally grateful for what I have. It doesn't seem to matter if hard things have happened that year....if I began to put things on a scale of good and bad, the good would win by a landslide- always does....


This year we decided to make a Thanksgiving Tree. I am always determined to minimize the Christmas hubub until we have spent some time being truly thankful...but this is the first year I have ever done one.  The kids are so excited about it, so I thought I could give you a little tutorial;) I know, you didn't ask for one.....  

The Beginning

I took some limbs from the back yard, big enough to stand straight, but small enough to have some twigs, branches and leaves on them and arranged them in a container. In this case, I used an old paint can that I filled with rocks and some water to make it heavy.


Then, I printed some "I am thankful" tags off the internet. A sheet for all members of the family to fill out.  In hindsight, I wish I had had some colored cardstock, but I just let each kid color the paper lightly.  They filled out things like, "Mommy, Daddy, I pod, Car, House, Health."  I wanted them to be able to put both essential needs and extra luxuries God had given them.

Loosely tied ribbon and the chain

We then made the chain with scissors and a stapler and hung it on the tree. I assembled some left over ribbon in fall colors and tied them loosely on the tree. I tend to be free with my ribbon tying, you may want a more traditional bow or smaller length.  Personally, I like the flowing ribbon....but I am weird like that.

Printable Tags

 Then, the kids and I, along with Will's list inspired a photo and clip art search. You can use all clip art, or all digital photos, which ever works easier for you.  We have a zillion wonderful cousins, so instead of each individual, I printed a clip art pic that said "BEST COUSINS"....but our Grandparents.....they were too special..They got their own photo.  I resized them into a document and printed them. I did it on paper and then glued them to index cards so they would hold up- again, wish I had had some card stock...would have been easier.   

example of picture "ornament"

I punched a hole in each pic and threaded it through the
top of the hole from the front. It seemed to lay better that way. Of course, there are tons of ways to attach them to the tree. 

Threaded ribbon 

Picture Ornaments Hung

After finishing the tree, I sent each kid and myself on a hunt to find things to add as ornaments or put under the tree that they were thankful for.  (Notice the action figures)...

An ornament from my Mama

Just a few items from the kids: a playbill from Jaden's play, an engagement announcement from Eason's wallet, a pic of the cousins, a Wolverine action figure........

Hobby Lobby had these on clearance, and so I hung a few on the tree for effect.....:)

The Finished Product:

a post I "unjumbled"....

Recently, a lady whom I had never met, prayed over me.  She did not know Branson's story or even that I was pregnant again....
She prayed this:


"That the wound she has experienced will stop here- and be forbidden to continue to affect her presently."


"That she will look to YOU as her Savior and stop trying to make others into a savior"


"That she heals"


"That she will open up, stretch, move and bend to what You want to accomplish in her"


"That you will protect her"




Among many other things that had me in tears and weak in the knees, these are some of things she prayed.


Sometimes I forget that this is not God's "plan B".  That He isn't sitting in heaven with his notebook planning the next journey based on the next road I take.
I am NOT a "choose your own adventure" book that surprises Him.  I AM His adventure, His Glory, His child, His beloved.  He knew what today looked like for me as he knit me together in my wonderful mama...almost, eh-hem-cough-cough, 30 years ago......
He knew that I would choose hard roads, bad alleyways, sketchy sidestreets, wide meadows and rocky switchbacks.  But, He loved me enough to give me the freedom to choose....and He still pursued me....relentlessly.  He knew what this journey looked like from the beginning.  He is not a puppeteer.  He is an all-knowing, all-loving Father who wants to guide me, always.  


Just like sending me this woman of God to pray for me this weekend, He has surrounded me with people who continue to pursue, look inside, and pry into my life.  It is the most wonderful feeling in the world- to be known....really known.


As I continue to walk the next 10 days out until my 20 week anatomy scan, I will remember her words....that I will not look to the doctor's to be my gods....
I will not allow their knowledge of life, death, illness and cure to cloud my judgement of who holds this baby.  I will trust them, thank them and then look to my Father for comfort...for He is my Savior...He has already saved me.

can't hold my love back......

My words are jumbled.  I can't explain how I am feeling any better than this song can........

Words can never say the way He says my name
He calls me lovely
No one every sees the He looks at me 
He sees me holy
Words can never hold this love that burns my soul
Heaven holds me
Heaven holds me 

You will not believe the way He touches me
He burns right through me
I could not forget every word He said
He always knew me
Earth could never hold this love that burns my soul
Heaven holds me
Oh, heaven holds me

It feels pretty good to be held by Heaven.......that is a pretty safe place to spend the next few months.  There are about 6 blog entries in my head at the moment,  and I will spare you the chaos of trying to sort them out on this page. I will begin to sort them myself before I type them out:) It is the least I can do.

PS( my baby girl is the size of a cantaloupe!) rats!...I promised I wouldn't do that;)

Ten Years of Being a Mommy......

My oldest turns 10 today....

Yep...There she is...in all her glory.

She was born at 9:08 this evening 10 years ago after 16 hours of induction.  I was 19, unmarried, and scared.

I love hindsight. I would actually prefer to live in hindsight forever.  It is so much clearer....like the last 2 chapters of a good novel that tie up the loose ends so gracefully.  Sometimes, at the end of a good novel, you get a good hint of what is to come....as sequel- more.  This is where I was the night that Jaden was born.....with a glimpse of hindsight and a good hint at what was to come.

It is pretty easy for me to see back down the road I have walked thus far.  I see the hills and paved places...times where I coasted- no pedaling- hands raised- hair blowing.  I remember the trudging, the potholes, the gaps and canyons between where I was and where I wanted to be.

But mostly, on that road, I see Jaden.  I see the baby born to a baby.  I can see us growing up together...her teaching me, me teaching her.  It is almost impossible for me to remember back before she was here.  She has become as much a part of who I am....yet, she is herself...her own person with her own will, spirit, choices, future.  I am learning, still, to walk beside the baby I have carried so long.  It isn't easy.

I have long stated that God gives us children to teach us what we need to learn- like a giant mirror to reflect the rough edges that need sanding....a hi-liter to indicate the places where we need Him.

I pray that I continue to grow and change and mother....but I also pray that I do it with patience, humility and grace.

The best news.....

boy or girl?

Our baby- at 16 1/2 weeks is as healthy as can be.  THAT is the best news ever.

At our appointment this week, little one was kicking, stretching, jumping, waving, dancing....the head circumference was perfect....the little baby was perfect.
I am also pleased to say that things that usually occur in my pregnancies are not occurring. I have zero high blood pressure which I have had with all other 3 pregnancies....I am not gaining too much or too little....I have had zero infections...no heartburn(yet lol)......It has been so different.

So, we are praising God for health.  At that appointment, I knew I was past 16 weeks. I also knew that I was getting an ultrasound. So, Will made sure he was there and we took both kids.....we were stoked to find out what we were having...and I was dying to know.

As I stated previously, I have had trouble connecting to this baby. I usually bond very early, and I have eagerly awaited the connection to take place...at 8 weeks.....after the first ultrasound.......at 12 weeks......after the 1st trimester screenings...when I felt kicks......
It wasn't happening....and I was dying to be connected. I just knew that knowing if this baby was a boy or girl would do it.....I could envision them...call them by name.......talk to him/her.  It would help.

However, the doc wasn't ready to determine sex. He kindly prodded us to wait until our 20 week anatomy scan- no big deal.  He pointed out his opinion about error in determination.  He was sweet about it, but persistent.

I held back the tears until we made it to the car. We had driven separate and as the kids and I exited the parking garage I lost it.   Jaden understood.....was disappointed along with me and encouraged me to wait. She is so much braver than me.  I was heartbroken to wait 4 long weeks.  And I was embarrassed to care so much. Had I not just seen my healthy baby on the screen 10 minutes ago? Had I not been blessed beyond comprehension? Was I that demanding and impatient? yes.

I knew that all I had to do was call the private sonogram company in the area and make an appointment. I knew that Will would support me. I just didn't know if it was right.
Was I circumventing God's plan for me by making an appointment? Would I miss out on something I was meant to learn- a growing moment.  Was I simply being an impatient brat?   Would my doctor be mad that I had not heeded his advice....or obeyed him?

I made the appointment.  I made it because it wasn't wrong to do so.  I made it because I wanted to connect to this baby. I made it to avoid the stress and sadness of being disconnected.  I made it- and it was the best $99 I ever spent.

I cannot fully explain to you what all I saw- but I can tell you what stood out the most:
Bent knees.  Legs that flexed all the way in- knee to nose....and then extended in a kick.......coming back to rest in Indian style....and then to kick again.
Branson's legs had not moved- had not bent......we spent those 5 weeks watching as she remained mostly still- as her legs remained outstretched.
Jesus continues to reveal to me the magnitude of what was both physically and mentally wrong in her sweet body- and although I may never have a name or diagnosis, I am coming to fully understand the mercy that she endured by being taken home.

So, the ultrasound tech pointed out the obvious lack of certain body parts and my heart leapt at the thought of a sweet little girl in our house. I can't begin to explain the emotions- but can only tell you that it seems so right.

I sang to her the whole way home....The connection was immediate, and I have yet to stop floating.
I am praising God for what He has already done, but more than anything, I cannot wait to see what He is doing.  This baby seems to have destiny....and it is the Person that I am excited to meet, not the baby.

PS: Eason is still warming up to the idea of having a girl...he had his heart set on a brother:)

16 1/2 weeks.

Beginning.......

I have had trouble connecting....
Anyone that knows me can tell you....I immediately attach to unborn babies.  As soon as someone is pregnant- as soon as I am pregnant, I begin talking, chatting, singing to these babies.  They immediately have personality, and I am filled with hopes and dreams for them from the very start.

I have struggled with this in this pregnancy.  I pray for this baby. I think about him or her.  I talk... I wish....I speak of....

But I have struggled with the same kind of attachment that I usually have and I know this mostly based on one obvious gap in this pregnancy- The journal.

For each of my children, even the two I have lost, I have a pregnancy journal.  It chronicles the finding out, the family reactions, the physical effects, the hopes the dreams and the connections pre-birth with my sweet baby.  Jaden's is thick....full of pleadings to the Lord, confusions, confessions and full-on submisssion to the path my life was about to take.  Amelia's is thin- simply outlining our excitement, our plans and then our words to her as she left us.  Eason's is as heroic a pregnancy journal has ever been- we were deep with excitement and anticipation, and there were two of us to write...... Branson's begins much like that- excited words from her daddy calling her "little girl" from day 1.  There are prayers and dreams and messages from her big sister.  The entries became pleas to the Lord, begs for mercy, prayers for healing and ultimately submission to His perfect will.

I have meant to start one.  In my mind, I told myself I would wait until the 8 week appt...then the 12 week appt....and here I am: almost 16 weeks.....
I am longing for connection for a gender, a name- a clear face photo...anything that God may use to break through the wall of fear around my heart.

We have struggled with names, but God has made a personality trait clear to me: this baby is spunky.

Spunky.  That was straight from my Father.  That this child had a sort of clear-focused energy.  So, because my Jesus led me there, I follow- knowing that He is leading me and teaching me as quickly as I can "get it"...(There IS a reason He moves slowly sometimes (;    )

I will begin the journal this weekend.

God has plans....

So, I know that it is an obvious statement.  God has plans.
He does. But, sometimes I forget that I am a part of His plan instead of Him being the overseer of my plans.  Very often I find myself presenting my plan to the Father and asking Him to bless it....knowing that I have not even "consulted" Him during the plan-making process.

I am learning to sit....to wait....to rest.....to stop planning.  
It is the hardest lesson I have ever had to learn....because, at times, I feel unprepared, lazy, or even stupid.
I have always planned.

My plan for this baby: To be High Risk....to get to see the Dr. every two weeks, if not more.....to have constant reassurance....a team of Drs watching my baby.  To have, though, a perfect pregnancy and then a perfect baby. :) Not a bad plan....just not God's.

After agreeing to the first trimester screening, I got to see the high risk docs, the same ones that delivered Branson.  There was something calming and sweet about seeing the people that had seen my Branson.  We wanted the screening and the blood tests so that if there was a marker, my kids would know their medical history when they went to have kids.....Our scan was perfect, with a bouncing baby with a perfect heartbeat.  The blood test results came back great.  Good news, right?

So, the high risk docs don't need to see me anymore.....at all.  I am not high risk......for real?

I am currently in the middle of the dreaded 4 week waiting process to see the doctor again....4 weeks is an eternity...it really is.

It isn't that I don't want to be a part of God's plans.....It isn't that I don't trust Him...
It is pride.  Sometimes I simply and stupidly think my plan is better.....I know.......stupid.

Pray for patience and submission to His will.......

Pray for an unexpected glitch in the calendar that makes October 20th come quicker so we can find out sooner if this is a boy or a girl! ( just kidding...pray for patience)

Johnna

making a space....

It is a new feeling.
It creates anxiety in a peaceful vacuum, starts arguments in your heart, gives you the shivers......
It is a place where the enemy has never attacked before.... like the soft, fleshy underside of  the chin- unprotected by armor.

It is peace.

It has always been easy to trust and obey during the easy times.....during the times of peace and favor....when you feel the Lord's blessing on you like the first hot day in March.  It was always the dark times where I struggled to see and find my way back to my Abba's lap.

But now, in the midst of the sunshine...now, experiencing the blessing I find myself reluctant to trust- knowing full and well that there is NOTHING else to do but trust....I still find myself shaken.

I feel like this tree....It has been uprooted only to take root again and survive...Its limbs sink low to the ground and it looks rough....It sure isn't "standing" the way a tree should.  But it still survives because its roots sought the very thing necessary for survival. On top of that, God intended it survive...so it did.

I will be this tree, ugly and sideways if I need to be.  First, I will understand and be thankful that God intended me to survive..and I will continue to search for His nourishment even when it is hard...as I daily confess my fear and mistrust to Him.

I mean look at this tree.....It is rough.  But at the same time, it is magnificent.  I will gladly lower my branches in His honor and glory.....
Besides, now the tree, as am I, is more perfect for kids to play on.....:)

Surrender......

These are the hands of surrender.  

I have spent the last 8 months learning how to walk around with my hands in the air....how to be in surrender to a perfect will I did not understand. I have been walking in reverence and submission to a bigger plan, a larger picture.....a plan that my Jesus formulated that is far above my ability to understand most days.  

It has taken months to even learn this walk....and I haven't even felt like I "got it".  Each prayer has been about my surrender.  Each praise to the Father is about the fact that He has it in His hands.  Each fear has been that if He did not, I would be dead in the water.....hopeless, bitter....angrier.  

Learning to walk this way has only increased my humility, humbled my "knowledge" and increased my faith in what is unseen. I have no answers. I don't know why God chose to heal the leper and not my sweet girl.  I do not know why we have experienced the amount of death in our family that we have this year...7 in the last year....... I don't know any of it....but I know who He is...and I know He loves me....and I know that I will continue to surrender....

Here is what I did NOT know:

The same hands that reach out in surrender to the Almighty....those are the same hands that wait for blessing.

Look at them...... See the outstretched arms....the extended fingers and palms cupped to receive.  

I didn't know.

I didn't know that this whole walk...this entire climb...I had been walking in submission and surrender with my hands awaiting His blessing as well.  

And it has come.....

And I am having trouble receiving it.

I'm just being honest.

I will wait...with cupped hands....I will hold His blessing out in my hands raised to Him for He means to work in me, through me...like a river flowing in and through and around all that I am.

The approaching fall...

As I write, the kids are outside building a fort in the pasture....at least, I think they still are.................................... Yep, they are.  It is pitiful...but I have resisted the urge to help them. I want Jaden to step up a little. To get creative and lead her brother a little more.  I also want him to pitch in.  He sure is the baby. He loves to be done for.

So far, we have done 1 1/2 weeks of school....and so far, so good.  Jaden is becoming very self-motivated. I am outlining and preparing her tasks the night before, and she is doing them well the next morning. Eason's day is a little more flexible with a few more play breaks and much more attention:) We have done some fun science lessons and puzzles.  Jaden had her first day of Co-op last week and really enjoyed it.  There is so much pressure off of my shoulders compared to this time last fall. It is as if the Lord has really paved the road when it comes to the kids and school. It is nice to feel the relief and the relaxation.  It is a sweet blessing.

My heart is full.  It is almost swollen.  I am struggling...no lie.  I am almost unable to feel all the emotions I am feeling at once.  It comes out in jumbles.  It gets mixed up between my heart and my mouth.  My fear comes out in anger, my anger in tears, my expectation as worry.....It is hard for me to keep up with what I am truly feeling and how I am acting.  This I do know. I am NOT acting well.  I am moody.  I have not been very nice. I have been demanding.  If I were Will, I would have tied me up in a bed sheet and dropped me at my mother's house.....because I have been acting 13....really, I have.

I want space....lots of it.
In space, I am allowed to have my unorganized thoughts....no definitions are required for my feelings. I can be just a little bit numb.  

Outside of the relationship, I can just think about me. I can allow myself to just focus on not focusing.


Without someone reflecting my actions, I can reflect anything I want to the outside world. 


The desire for isolation is understandable...but dangerous.  It is selfish...It is outside of God's calling for me.
So, I must figure out how to love my husband well- even when I want him to stay at least 20 feet away:) I have to remember the season- the plan - the big picture- who has carried me when I was falling.
Remember? Remember when I said I didn't want to lose the feeling of needing him so much? I wrote it. I knew how easy it could be to lose sight of NEEDING my husband...of NEEDING my Jesus.  I have abandoned my God in peacetime before. I remember the danger of walking out of His fortress walls... and it is just as dangerous to walk out of the intimate walls of my marriage as well.....

So pray that I remain intimately connected during the next few months.- That I do not allow worry or selfishness or fear to drive me to isolation.

I will leave you with a picture of the little fort my kids built......so cute.

So.....I am awake.....and really tired.  Something tells me that I shouldn't be blogging.
Anyway.


These words keep coming to my head as I lay in my bed and listen to my husband saw logs....(he doesn't really snore.  However, his breathing is VERY annoying when he is sleeping and I am NOT)

I'm laying me down

Reaching for Your hand.

You're pulling me up

You're making me stand.... *

Yep, I wrote that.  Hold the applause.

I get that it is simple....the point is that Jesus put it in my head and it has been circling in there for almost 5 hours now.  It is just a small picture of where I am....me in a nutshell.

(ahhhh, I am trapped in a really large nutshell......some of you got that)

I am going to head back to bed now...knowing that I will lay there for another hour.....but praying for my baby....who is the size of an olive...Crap! I said I wasn't gonna do that!

Goodnight:) 

*JoJo Rains has dibs on these lyrics.

What is next?

So here I sit....amazed at the Love of Jesus and basking in the glow of pregnancy again....
You can imagine the anger of the enemy at this point.....the lies that he throws my way, the amount of time each day I find myself saying Jesus' name.....


This is exactly where my Jesus wants me and I am gladly wrapped in His arms.  


As for the fate of the blog, I can only tell you what I will not do......
I will not detail and dialogue my entire pregnancy. 
You will not be hearing complaints about morning sickness or heartburn or soreness.
I will not tell you what type of fruit this baby is measuring at week by week.


It isn't that I won't be doing these things or keeping up with this baby's growth or even enjoying my pregnancy.  It isn't that I won't be throwing up or popping tums or using a heating pad.....
It is just that this child, our marriage, the sanctity of life itself....it is all so much bigger than me.  It is all so much more than baby registries or showers or sonograms....I just want to be the vessel....to be this child's mama....to walk the road I am meant to walk......


I am excited....I am scared. This will be the theme of the blog......because it has always been the theme.


Johnna

An Important Message from Johnna and Will and family

He is Faithful

Please watch the video below: