Heartaches & Boundless Love

When I first held my baby in my arms, he weighed 4 pounds, 10 ounces. My whole body was in knots as I cuddled, dressed, and fed my miniature package for a terrifying week in the NICU. I never really fell asleep, I didn't rest, my mind couldn't focus on anything else. My heart ached for my new baby. Every spasm of pain and miserable feeding, I held him, prayed over him, wept for him...

We left that NICU after one week. A short stay compared to many...

But something had lodged itself in my heart. Like a splinter of glass, there was a new rawness, a new edge. Sometimes, it quietly lets itself be forgotten. During long days of working while he was still so tiny. During nights where we both finally fell into an exhausted sleep. During those times... I forgot.

And then he smiled at me.

He had his first belly laugh.

He needed a sick-boy mommy cuddle time.

He got fatter.

And bigger.

His personality begins to peep through.

In those moments, I remember. And the ache returns. My heart aches over the little life entrusted to me. Every joy fills me with gladness, every sorrow makes me cry, my heart longs after my baby. 

And this is but a shadow of God's aching and longing for you.

In the New Testament, God is referred to as "our father" or "the father" over and over and over again. The phrase "grace and peace to you from God our Father" occurrs nine times (in my brief search through the ESV translation alone).

The Bible is a relatively short book. It is our guide in this life. Think of all the things God could have possibly wanted to cram into it: "don't do this," "make sure you do this," "remember such-and-such."

But in this short book, God chose to refer to himself as our father again and again. And as our Father, He sent blessings of grace and peace. Again and again.

If I, a fragile, fallible human parent, feel the aching of sacrificial love for my small son (and unborn baby girl), then how much more so is God's infinite aching after us, His adopted sons and daughters? He gave the perfect sacrifice to save us. He equipped us with everything we needed to become like His perfect son, Christ. And He watches our daily struggles, our fight on this earth, with the aching and longing that we would fully realize the grace and peace He so freely offers.

Revel in belonging to a God of whom it is written:

"Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens."

Because with this boundless love... He loves you.

My New List And My New Happiness

Several weeks ago, when I was feeling particularly horrible and barely able to get off the couch, I began to wonder how on earth I would get everything done. While being a stay-at-home is markedly less stressful than corralling autistic three-year olds every day, there is (nonetheless) a to-do list.

And mine was getting longer.

I would rush around one day like crazy, be couch-ridden the next, all the while with a niggling suspicion that I wasn't doing a good job loving my husband or child...

A pithy saying kept ringing in my ears: "Never let the urgent crowd out the important."

I didn't know how, but I had a sneaking suspicion that I was letting the urgent drown out what was truly important.

And so, I came up with a plan.

A list.

I had made lists before, but this was a new list. And this one was very simple. Every day it stayed the same. And every day it provided the structure needed to address the variation in my new routine, while simultaneously providing a framework to remember "the important."

It's been several weeks, and my success with my list is variable, although, I will say that I'm a happier, calmer wife/mommy.

This is my list:
1. Show love to my Savior
2. Show love to my husband
3. Show love to my baby
4. Be a good steward of this house
5. Be a good steward of my talents/employment
6. Show love to others.

Each day, many of the other things I need to get done slip right into these categories... I fold laundry and iron dress shirts, because I know that is showing love to my hubby. But maybe I do a smidge more... maybe I also make some pumpkin muffins on a whim. Because the word "love" is in my list, and going the extra mile for those I love is much different from crossing off an item on my to-do list.

Depending on the day, one category may get a more time-intensive task than the others. On days when I'm sick, the tasks in each category get shorter, but they still exist. Each category still gets filled... As seen below:

1. Show love to my Savior...by spending 15 minutes in prayer before breakfast
2. Show love to my husband... by cleaning out his sock drawer, putting away summer clothes, and hiding a note somewhere.
3. Show love to my baby... by introducing him to a half hour of bubble playtime!
4. Be a good steward of this house... by sweeping and mopping the floors.

And someone was once afraid of water!

5. Be a good steward of my talents/employment... by practicing the piano, and sending a follow-up email to new boss.
6. Show love to others... write on _________'s Facebook wall and tell her what I've seen/been encouraged by.


But what I love most is that my list is forcing me to enjoy the relationships around me in tangible ways. I want my wee baby boy to grow up knowing that he is an incredibly important part of my day, and that I am never too busy for him. I want my hubby to know that he is the forever love of my life. And I want my relationship with my Savior to deepen on a daily basis.

Unfortunately, I often want all those things, but lose sight of the daily practices I need to utilize in order to see these blessings fulfilled in my life.

We were so wet and muddy after this adventure that we needed another bath!

My little bundle of delight (who takes so much work that I was forgetting to have fun with him) has loved his new mommy play time. Sometimes it's just 10 minutes of crazy cuddles, or sometimes it's hours of water fun...



I'm so blessed to be his mommy!
I'm so blessed to have this amazing life...

Lord, help me to be a good steward of these blessings.

And Wee Squidgee Is A...

I am completely surprised. And I have no idea what I will call this little pink doll. As soon as I saw her, all the names I HAD thought I liked flew right out the window...

But I am sure of one thing... Scott will be an amazing daddy to "Baby Squidgette." (And these are the only two pink things we own... I don't have a lot of pink, and that color hasn't really come out in Grant's wardrobe. I know. Shocker.)

Loud Singing & A Bloody Sacrifice.

The spiced cider candle is flickering. Toasty pumpkin muffins are cooling on the counter. Baby is sleeping, the dishwasher is humming, and I'm curled up in my favorite bedraggled sweater listening to soothing African-style easy listening nothingness.

Today is a day of rest.

The beginning of a fresh week of battles.

But today is not about those battles. Today is about praise. Worship. Rest. Reveling in God's glory.

And today I got to do that...

The past five months, as I've struggled to remain upright, to focus, and to get through each day, Sunday was not a day of rest. Sunday was a day of more work: get up, try to look decent, clean up baby, get out the door, smile, nod, try to worship, smile, nod, remember people's names...

Worship was hard. Worship was work. Worship was draining. Exhausting. Drying. Saturation in the grace of God didn't feel real. I went through the motions.

I wasn't mad. Or depressed. Or bitter.

I was just exhausted. Drained. And barely able to focus on the words I was singing and the truth I was hearing.

One Sunday morning, as I (tiredly) wrapped Velcro rollers around another strand of impossibly frizzy hair, I began to hum... "We bring a sacrifice of praise into the house of The Lord..." And then it hit me:

My worship is to be a sacrifice.

Think about that phrase. Just think.

Worship. A sacrifice. 

A brutal, blood-spilling, emotion-draining, laying down on the alter. My worship. Slitting the throat. Burning the carcass. My worship. Gory. Bloody. Painful.

A sacrifice.

Not an emotional high. Not a feel-good fest. (Not that it isn't wonderful when God gives those moments...) But my worship should be an act of obedience. Whole-hearted willingness to shout my God's glory and revel in His Word.

Regardless of my fatigue.

Regardless of my pain.

Regardless of fears, broken relationships, betrayal, apathy, anger, or boredom.

Worship.

Set aside thoughts of you.

Focus on your Savior.

And pour out the blood of sacrificial worship.

Such abandonment for the glory of God does not return to you empty. And today God allowed peace and happiness as I sang each line and listened to each word... Focusing on the sacrifice resulted in wonderful joy.

"... let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name. Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God." (Hebrews 13:15b-16)

Guilt and Unpacking

I've just completed my 33rd day of my new career.

33 days ago, Grant and I came to Philadelphia.

33 days ago, we didn't have a home, I didn't have a job, and I couldn't find my toothbrush.

I also didn't have a clue what I was getting myself into...

For the past three years, I've worked full-time and enjoyed it (almost all the time, promise!). I loved being a speech therapist. And then I met a guy... A guy who on our third date asked me if I would ever want to be a stay-at-home mom. (I don't know about you other ladies, but for me, that was like finding the Holy Grail of manhood. I most DEFINITELY wanted to be a wife and mom first (and a therapist second).) Short story even shorter (we met and married in less than 6 months), I fell in love with that amazing man.

He was in seminary... So I brought home the bacon.

We had a baby... I kept bringing home bacon.

But this July he started bringing home the bacon.

And I was upgraded to my new position.

And I was terrified.

I began having recurring dreams of flunking out of school, failing at life, and never measuring up.

At every other time in my life, there has been a measurement. I've known where I stand.

But here? In motherhood? There is no measure. None.

So, I floundered. I alternated between panicked frenzies and helpless stupor. One day, I would unpack tons of boxes, scrub floors, and scour old wood work. Then, for the next three days, I would barely scrape by, wanting to nap, eat, and read my way through my free time. Being nauseated, pregnant, and exhausted didn't help with my motivation, but it was also a nice crutch to lean on. No one faults a pregnant lady for taking a nap.

I tried everything I could think of... I prayed, I wrote lists, I spent more time in the Bible... I was searching for a magic key. Because, deep under my mood swings, there was pure, unadulterated terror. I would wake up in the clutches of guilt and fear, and no matter how much I did, every night, I felt inadequate, incapable. I was a failure. I have never wrestled with such a intangible, internal fear. There was nothing outside me. My husband was loving. My new church was supportive. We had a house, a baby, and a future that was incredibly stable and filled with blessings.

And still I was guilt-ridden.

Was I doing enough? Was I measuring up? Was I failing at this incredibly important job of motherhood? I was miserable...

But I was supposed to feel this way.

Not so that I would wallow in my guilt. Not so that I would live in fear.

But so that Christ can be glorified.

The Apostle Paul had an amazing ministry. God allowed him to see a myriad of things... And he could have become quite conceited. In fact, he had reason to be. And God knew this. So He gave Paul a weakness... And Paul was miserable. He pleaded and prayed that it would go away. But God answered,

  “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 

I have been given much. I am surrounded by blessings and goodness and extra joy beyond joy. God has allowed this. And I could become quite complacent, conceited even, with all this blessing. And God knew this. So He gave me a weakness: a desire for success and tangible reward. And, because I did not use this as it was intended, I was miserable.

There is nothing wrong with wanting to measure up. There is nothing wrong with desiring to be an exemplary mommy. In a backlash against Pinterest, I have read countless mommy-blogs that reiterate over and over, "you don't have to be perfect..." And, while this is true, there's a piece missing.

You were designed to crave success. You were designed to seek rewards.

But we've been looking in the wrong places.

Someday, I will find out how I did as a mommy. Someday, I will be given my reward. It won't be today. It won't be on this earth. I won't be able to frame it in a cute, Pinterest-project-frame.

But it will come.

I will receive a reward.

Knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ.

If my work is the work of eternity it will speak for itself.

If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward.

And Christ himself has told me,

"Look, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to each person according to what they have done."

So, I will keep striving for perfection. I may not have a Pinterest-board house, but I want a Pinterest-board heart: beautifully, perfectly tended, selfless, and loving.And I won't know where I stand, until the very end. The Lord has given me a desire for success... And I will pray daily for His tuning of my heart. I'm weak and inadequate. But in this God is glorified.

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses.

And someday... I will find my reward.

Although, kissing this sweet face is a reward in and of itself!

Our "Maybe House"

I'm sitting on my old familiar couch, in the midst of a brand new living room, a brand new neighborhood, and a brand new life.

I'm glad the couch is the same. I could use some "sameness" right about now.

But I'm also excited about all the newness.

I use the term "new" loosely when referring to this house. This living room which I am now sitting in has been around since 1890, and underneath my kitchen there are remnants of a root cellar in the basement. There's also something in the basement that resembles a medieval torture rack, so for now, Scott gets to take everything to the basement, while I stay in my comfortably modern kitchen.

We arrived late Wednesday night. On Tuesday we had received the news that the mortgage company had not yet finished processing our application. As a result, we would have to wait an additional week or two to close on the house. The sellers have been simply wonderful. We're currently renting, week-by-week, until all the paperwork gets processed. They left toilet paper, soap, and laundry detergent, with bottles of water in the fridge, and freshly scrubbed floors. Unbelievable.

Because there is a slim possibility that we won't actually be living here, nothing is coming unpacked. I'm sitting amidst piles of boxes and pretending that I'm camping. This delay with the house is such a wonderful reminder: we didn't move to Philadelphia for a house. We moved for the people. We didn't move to Philadelphia to be comfortable. We moved here because in order to reach people, you must often be very uncomfortable.

I'm actually thankful that this delay has taken place. I need constant reminders that this world is not my home. Ever since God graciously helped us find this house, I've been praying that I would be joyful, even if we never moved into this big, wonderful blessing. I desperately want a house where I can serve others, but even more than that, I want a heart that serves my Savior, and my Savior only. Sometimes big, beautiful houses get in the way of having that kind of heart...

But, while we're waiting in the midst of all this uncertainty, how about some pictures of the wonderful house which we may/may not live in? My camera is dead, so some janky cell phone pics will have to suffice. It really is a very large house, so the pictures below are only from the first (of three!) floors. Also, please keep in mind, this house photographs really well. I mean, really well. It has lots of projects scattered throughout it, and if you ever come to visit, you'll see some of the "character" up close and personal. But for now, I'll have fun showing you the house without any defects being highlighted.

This is the front entry way. It has double french doors, and the small foyer between the two doors is a pretty combination of marble and tile. This leads out to a large front porch. The sidewalk traffic here is incredible. If we just sat on our porch long enough, we'd soon know everyone in the surrounding 3 blocks! So, needless to say, fixing the porch is a number one priority. Currently, the porch looks pretty ghetto: wire railings, chipping paint, and drunken looking fixtures. Plenty of character!

Part of my lovely, dream-come-true kitchen! The counter-top are granite, and the cabinets are so large that I'm going to be at a loss with what to do with this much space! There's also a pantry... which is like heaven on earth, since I've stored my groceries in a garage cabinet for the past 2 years. Please come visit, I'll fix lots of yummies!

This is looking from the kitchen/dining room, towards the front door. I have lovely plans for a built-in bookcase and a little bench to go under these stairs. I'm afraid all my "lovely plans" are a bit overwhelming to my poor hubby. I suggested that I will have to learn carpentry on my own... this did not seem to reduce his stress level.

My "three window room." I put the piano in this room, and already have plans for some large, over-stuffed chairs--chairs that just say, "sit down, be comfy, tell me about your life." I understand that's asking a lot of these chairs, but I'm confident I'll find them somewhere.

This is the front room. I'm sitting here as I write this. These big windows are just lovely, and right now I'm people watching from them... There's a man with a very healthy-looking pony-tail chasing a Siamese cat down the sidewalk. So much amusement from people watching!

This is a view when  I stand in my kitchen and look out over into the dining room. Look at all that space! I can't wait to hunt down a ginormous table, and feed dozens of hungry people! Some people have the love language of gifts, or affirmation. Me? I'll show you my love by cooking massive amounts of food and letting your crash here whenever you want! I love a house full of people.

 So, that's our "maybe house." If we don't close, I'll be posting pics of an apartment in a week or two! I am so thankful that God holds this uncertainty in His hands. None of this is "surprising" to Him.  I'm daily reminded that this is not "my" house, nor will it ever be mine. It belongs to the King of Kings. I can't wait to see what He'll do with it!

Sorting Out Emotions: Looking Forward, Looking Back.

I'm sitting here, munching Gerber Baby arrowroot cookies. Technically, these were Grant's special treat... until he broke out all over his body every time I fed him wheat. So now, my baby gnaws on delicious carrots. And I get the cookies. Motherhood is a very cushy job today...

I was upstairs, packing up the remnant of our things. Four days.  That's it. Only four days until I'm a...Philly-ite? Philly-stine? And I eat Philly cheese steaks every day and buy my child Eagles paraphernalia. But as I was packing, the future Eagles' fan fell asleep at my feet and I didn't have the heart to wake him up with more hustle and bustle.

So, I decided to take a moment and breathe. Just rest. And think.

I haven't done much thinking lately. I've just been in "go mode." Survival. All while trying to remain partially sanctified as I single-parented a 7 month-old and battled down nausea from a 14 week-old (in utero). People keep asking me, "Are you excited? Are you nervous?" And I would given noncommittal, safe answers, because in all honesty, I had no idea how I felt. I was too tired, sick, and busy to feel anything.

Scott often teases me that I have "special needs emotions." They require a little extra time and patience before they actually figure out what they're doing. So I'm giving them a little more time. Right now.

Yesterday was my last day at work, and as I pulled out of the parking lot, tears were streaming down my face (yes, very safe when driving). I will miss my job. The children and adults I worked with were amazing blessings. I loved seeing parents hear "I love you" for the first time, I loved helping people re-learn how to eat. And I got payed, every day, to play games and make language fun! Some of my favorites were when parents would tell me, "She has been asking when she got to come for another 'play-date' with Miss Courtney." And there's nothing like walking into a waiting room and being pummeled with knee-high hugs. Monday morning is the best morning of your week if you greet your first patient and they practically come out of their wheelchair in excitement. That was my job! I got paid to do that (plus a lot of paperwork...). Unbelievable.

And tomorrow is my last day at Faith. I've been going to this church for 17 years. This poor congregation put up with my first (and latest) dramatic attempts. I've gone to Sunday school, taught Sunday school, gone to VBS, taught VBS... All of my closest friends and many of my greatest role models attend this church. I will miss the people, the community of believers, and the wonderful teaching. I have been hugely blessed by God's gift of this church. And I'll probably bawl my way through the entire worship service tomorrow.

So, my slow, very special emotions are telling me that I'm sad. I'm nostalgic. I'm wistful. And I'm going to feel very transplanted in my new home town...

But at the same time, they're screaming, "LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT THAT! GOD IS WORKING IN PHILADELPHIA, TOO!"

I'm so excited about the church in Philly. Harvest Bible Chapel of Philadelphia has gone above and beyond in welcoming us and taking care of our small family. When we flew out there for Scott to candidate, they put us up in a lovely hotel, footed the bill on an amazing dinner out with all the elders, covered the cost of a mothers' day brunch, and did everything in their power to make the trip as easy as possible. And they haven't stopped... navigating new insurance, home-buying, and relocation is crazy and there have been wonderful people that have helped us every step of the way. I got a phone call yesterday letting me know about meals that are set-up for our first 4-5 days in our new house... Amazing.

Plus, there's our house...

It's a "twin home" which is the East Coast's way of saying "glorified duplex." It's a 2,600 square foot mansion (complete with amazing kitchen!) and the biggest back-yard in all of Philly (almost). I will never cease to be amazed at how God chose to provide this house. And I'm just bursting at the seams with a massive amount of home-improvement/decorating ideas. I learned this past week that we live near thrift store heaven... and I can hardly wait to start finding some hidden treasures.

Which is another reason that I'm excited: I get to stay home all day! I get to stay home every day and be a housewife. I get to cook, clean, and feed a baby during the day, not just when I'm exhausted and squeezing in necessities around work hours. I cannot believe it! I'm well aware of the daily (usually unglamorous) reality, but I'm so excited for this new way to love my husband, mother my baby, and bring glory to God (in the daily minutiae).

It's all going to be fantastically new, terrifying, exciting, and crazy.

And I can't wait to start!