Belly and Baby (and Bible) Joy

Somehow I've made it almost all the way through this month of joys without sharing one of my main sources of joy - The Bible. 

But with so much to meditate on in the Word, I needed to pick a theme, so I decided to illustrate a few Scriptures with the progression of my belly and ultrasound pictures. I hope you enjoy them (and forgive me for a few out-of-context-but-funny-or-appropriate selections!).

70)  For there is nothing hidden which will not be revealed, nor has anything been kept secret but that it should come to light. Mark 4:22 (not quite showing yet)

71) For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay.  Habakkuk 2:3 (not finding out the gender)

72) For indeed, as soon as the voice of your greeting sounded in my ears, the babe leaped in my womb for joy.  Blessed is she who believed, for there will be a fulfillment of those things which were told her from the Lord. Luke 1:44-45 (around this time I really could feel Blueberry moving)

73) Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, The fruit of the womb is a reward. Psalm 127:3 (ah, back in the cute bump days)

74) I was cast upon You from birth. From My mother’s womb You have been My God. Psalm 22:10

75) The LORD has done great things for us, and we are glad. Psalm 126:3

76) Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy. Psalm 126:5

77) For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well. Psalm 139:13-14

78) When the LORD your God enlarges your border as He has promised you, and you say, ‘Let me eat meat,’ because you long to eat meat, you may eat as much meat as your heart desires. Deuteronomy 12:20 (I know this is out of context, but isn't it true to the approach we sometimes take to eating when we are pregnant? Plus, I do feel that God is enlarging my borders as promised!)

79) My frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.  And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them. Psalm 139:15-16 (Even though Blueberry is playing peek-a-boo here, I love knowing s/he will never be hidden from the loving eyes of God.)

80) Do not neglect the gift that is in you, which was given to you by prophecy with the laying on of the hands of the eldership. Meditate on these things; give yourself entirely to them, that your progress may be evident to all. I Timothy 4:14-15 (Again, I know it's out of context, but I have felt my pregnancy is a literal depiction of this passage. This baby's life is a gift, given after much prayer with laying on of hands. As I have taken care of this unborn baby, learning all I can about it and preparing myself for my entire life to be changed, my progress (physically at least!) is evident to all.)

PS: I get lots of comments that I am not that big. I actually have been measuring a few weeks small, which is why I got to have the two extra 33-and 37-week ultrasounds. Fortunately, Blueberry is measuring just a few days small, so well within the acceptable range. But believe me, I FEEL huge and have gained more than the average share of weight, so there.

Memory Chain

I don't remember most of my life so far. I have journaled (or written in a diary) for as long as I've known how to write. I take lots of pictures, and though I don't scrapbook, I always intend to, so I keep scraps of everything. One of my best friends remembers almost everything we've done together since 1994, but she gets really bad cell phone reception, so she's not always a great resource. So, most of my minutes and days are lost to my subconscious.

I'm thinking about this because I'm sitting here with a five-year-old boy (D) I didn't know existed before Tuesday at 2pm, pondering how my life got here. Here's what I remember.

I remember the house I lived in as a teenager being a haven for all sorts of our friends. It was probably never clean or stocked with enough food, but my brothers' and sister's and my friends seemed to feel at home there. Holiday meals were crowded with these friends of every background, and after I left for college, my bedroom became the rotating hospitality suite for some of these friends. I remember thinking I wanted to have a home like that when I grew up. A place where everyone would be comfortable with an extra bed or couch always ready for someone who needed it.

I remember hearing about short-term missions for the first time when I was 13. It was a cute boy with floppy hair who had just returned from a trip with Teen Mania to Chile and he talked about how the spaghetti sauce there was more like ketchup and what good friends he had made. Convincing enough for me! I went on my first trip to India the next summer and staying inside the U.S. was never again a permanent option for me. Traveling all over the world and falling in love with people in many cultures and religions gave me a bug for having children of all different colors who I wanted to raise with a global mindset.

I remember many late nights in college, dragging pillows and blankets out into the hallway of the dorms to talk with friends, dreaming of our upcoming summer trips and conspiring for world domination once we graduated. One particular summer, I had the privilege to go to Turkey, a unique trip in every way wonderful. One of the wonderful elements was a team member named Chana who also lived on my floor. We had lots of that hallway dreaming time together. Though we had solid plans to keep in touch after I graduated, we had no inkling of what would become another beautiful part of our friendship.

I remember joining the military to continue my world travels. I remember all the beautiful and mysterious steps leading up to meeting my husband through both my college relationships and my military travels. I remember getting out of the military to start that home and family I had dreamed about with said husband. And I remember that family not starting the way I had planned. Many months passed in which I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing, and questioned why I quit my job for what seemed to be nothing.

I remember reading my friend Chana's blog, following her travels with her husband as they served in countries we had dreamed about. I remember her writing honestly about her uneasiness concerning her upcoming trip to China (where her husband was) with her 20-month old and newborn. It was then I knew something I could do. I could help mothers with their children. I sent her one of those "Hi, I know we haven't talked in 10 years, but I read your blog" type of emails and asked if I could travel with them. She said yes, so I did. And spent an awesome 10 days getting reconnected with two very good friends and addicted to Arrested Development, and learning how to soothe a crying newborn. She never lets me forget the difference I made in her life and I'm still trying to convince her it was mutual.

I remember later that summer when my little sister was having her 4th and 5th kids and wondering what I could do to help. Having the China trip fresh in my mind and passport, I knew I could help with her other kids. We eventually had my at-the-time 4 and 6-year-old nephews come stay with us in Virginia for 3 weeks while she adjusted to life with babies. I remember realizing why God usually gives us kids as babies with a generous 9-month lead-in time! I remember the panic when I realized I was responsible for these precious people 24-7 and what in the world was I going to do to keep them busy for 3 weeks! I remember the ache in my heart when they went home and the pillows were back on the couch and the replaceable seat covers had been replaced. John and I decided we wouldn't be too bad as parents after all.

Oh, and that desire to be parents. Still so strong.

I remember even later that year when we heard and followed the call to be foster parents. After all, we had plenty of extra beds for those in need, we wanted to be a place of refuge for people of all backgrounds, we knew the blessing of helping other families, we wanted to eventually adopt and we had very jumponable couch pillows. We based the age range (newborn to 7) we were open to on the age range we knew. The age ranges I knew because of the days spent helping other mothers. Because I had the time because I didn't have a job or a baby of my own.

And now. Two newborns and a rambunctious Thomas-loving 5-year-old piling pillows on the floor later.

I'm a firm believer that God is always preparing us for the next or future season in life by what we are going through now. I believe that we get better preparation when we're focused on this season (see my last blog). I don't believe these things because of what someone told me or something I read in a blog or a book. I believe it because I'm living it. And these are the pieces of life I'm glad I remember!

Care to share your own story about how the steps of your journey have led you to where you are? I'm all ears (after Boy D goes to bed, of course!).

Blue Friday

[Spoiler Alert- The blog below contains honest emotions. If you're one of my work colleagues or someone who would feel uncomfortable seeing this side of me, please feel free to click away to one of my funnier blogs now. :-)]

[and it's really long]


It's a good thing I didn't get my makeup on before leaving for work, because it would've been all over my face by the time I got there. I'm not a crier. Well, that's not true. But I used to not be. Then, when I started dating John, I started crying all the time.


Oh, it wasn't him. It was the fact that our relationship was long-distance bi-country (him:US, me:Honduras) until 2 months before we got married, so I missed him alot.


I digress. 

Today (Friday) started out really early. I had a presentation to give in the Instructor Training Course I'm taking at the Defense Information School. It was just a demonstration, so I didn't spend as much time prepping for it as I should've. I got up at 4:30 to work on it, but never quite got my head in the game.


On the drive up to Ft. Meade (35 miles away), the song All My Praise by Selah, came on the radio. One of the singers in Selah is Todd Smith. I came across a blog by his wife, Angie, several months ago. Eighteen weeks into their 3rd pregnancy, they learned that their unborn (4th) daughter, Audrey, had no kidney function, an enlarged heart, undeveloped lungs and no amniotic fluid. Angie's blog about their journey was one of the most read blogs of 2008.


The short version of the story is that they were told they should have an abortion because Angie would probably miscarry, and even if Audrey survived delivery, she would take one gasping breath and die. Plus, carrying a live baby with no amniotic fluid is very painful for the mother. They decided that God gave Audrey to them and they'd hold on to her as long as they could. She was delivered via c-section at 32 weeks and lived for a peaceful two and a half hours. (I highly recommend you read her version of the story, just keep a tissue close.)


The song was recorded 3 years before their ordeal with Audrey started, but the blog was fresh on my mind. The lyrics--


And even in the shadow of death
I will praise You
And even in the valley I will say
Holy, My God
You are worthy of all my praise
Holy, My God
You are worthy of all my praise


--just seemed really poignant. I wonder if even as Todd sang this song, God was preparing his heart for what he would actually have to walk through in the future. And I wonder what God is preparing my heart for.


I can't hear a song by Selah without thinking about their story, so of course my heart got sad for them. --Tears start. -- And then sadder still for anyone who loses a baby. And sad for me because I want a baby. And happy-sad for my friend who just had a healthy baby 3 weeks early, before her husband got home from his Navy trip. And sad for all the daddies who can't be there for their babies' births. And hoping John is there for ours (because we WILL have them).


By this point, I'm not even bothering to dry my cheeks off.


And then I cried for our future foster children, for their parents who will make bad choices that will lead to us taking care of their babies. And for all the children in the world who don't have loving homes to live in. And then some more for myself for wanting a baby, and for all my friends who want babies, and for missing John, who is only gone for 2 weeks, but it seems so much longer.


Do you see why I was a mess when I got to work this morning? My mind was a million miles away from my demonstration on how to make a trifle. 


I made it through today, but I feel like I've been in a daze. I write this not to be all "woe is me" but just to let you know that it's okay to feel the blues every once in a while. I try to keep what I write very encouraging and full of joy. But today, I knew I had to tell you about this.


Because joy tastes so much sweeter when you know the bitterness of sorrow. Our character can be developed more in our times of 'weakness' because our hearts are softer to the Potter's hands. 

I don't dwell on these things every day, but today I was able to offer all of it up as a prayer, knowing my God is big enough to hold it all.


I'll be glad to see this day tucked into history and look forward to His new mercies tomorrow.

Thoughts on Testing

Studying math for the past several hours has drained all the creativity out of my brain, so I couldn't even come up with a catchy title for this blog.

I do not like math.

I'm sorry to all my math teachers and all you other math lovers and especially my dear aunt and uncle who are both math professors. My distaste for the subject is probably because I never took one of your classes.

I'm studying math because I'm taking the GRE on Friday. I'm taking the GRE because I'm applying for grad school - again. This time to get a PhD in English Lit. Not math. Obviously. But, for some reason, they think it's important to test your understanding of mathematical concepts and relationships between x and y and stuff.

The biggest reason why I don't like math is because I don't know enough about it. And I don't know enough about it because I 1) didn't learn it 2) don't remember it. I was a Drama major in college. The only math class I had to take was Math in Society, in which we learned about credit cards and interest rates. The class was such a joke that for one of my group's presentations, we did a puppet show I wrote with paper bags about the cultural role of the digits 0-5. For example, the number 3 talked about how he was invited to every wedding. It made sense at the time. We got an A.

Anyway, the reason I don't remember math is because I'm not continually learning it and I'm not being tested on it. This got me thinking about other kinds of tests in life. What we learn (or re-learn, or don't learn) from these tests must be the really important stuff. The stuff that God values so much that He wants to make sure we know it, understand it, live it. He doesn't test us because He's mean or likes to see us squirm. He wants us to succeed in this life He's given us, He wants us to know His love and His enoughness. (yeah, I made up that word, but I'm gonna get a PhD in English, so I can do that) The best thing about God's tests is that there is no scoring (that's grace!).

I hate that my acceptance to a school might be contingent on how well I do on this test, but I have to trust (I learned that through a test) that it will all work out.