I wish I could tell you why...

On November 30, I started writing a post to announce that I was pregnant with baby #2. Two days later, before I was finished typing it up, I had a very early miscarriage. On January 10, I started writing another blog entry (that I was going to post at a later time) announcing that I was once again, pregnant. Three days after that, I began to miscarry again. So that's why, if you didn't already know, all the cryptic talk about going through hard times and believing God anyway.

I don't know why this is happening. Frankly, I don't care, because it wouldn't take away my hurt. I know God will bring something good out of this at some point, but in the here and now--I can't even begin to guess. Reading back over this, I sound really angry. I'm not, though. I'm just sad.

Here are the thoughts of the human, fleshly, physical me:

I am in a funk. I want to spend my time at my house, with my baby (and my hubby, when he's home). I don't want to go out and do things to get my mind off of everything else. I don't even really want to talk on the phone. I want to do what I want to do, and I know that sounds selfish, and it is. That's how I'm dealing, though. Let me deal.

Here are the thoughts of the spiritual me, who is on auto pilot right now:

I know God is on the throne. I know He has a plan even though I don't understand it. I know He hurts when I hurt. I know He loves me.

I wish I could tell you why things happen, but I can't. Someday, we will understand, or maybe, at that point, we won't even care. It would be nice to know on this earth, though...

I'm finding myself at a loss for words....
Word of God, speak.

Believe

Sorry I've been kind of absent lately (I feel like I say that all the time). The last several months have been really tough ones. I hate saying that they've been bad because honestly, I feel like I've been really blessed. I've never experienced anything too that's terrible in the grand scheme of things.

Honestly, things are still kind of rough here. People keep saying, "Just believe...." and I've been believing, but I was thinking about it last night--the word "Believe", that is. People use it a lot. We (not me specifically, but "we" as humans) believe in Santa Claus, God, reincarnation, karma, etc., etc., etc. We believe that there's nothing to believe in. We believe in ourselves.

Anyways, last night I was praying out loud while I was home alone (Kade was visiting Gramma), and I said, "God, I believe....." And then I stopped. What did I believe? I believe in God. Which means what, exactly? That I believe there is a God? Big whoop, right? A lot of people "believe there's a God".

God already knows I believe in Him, that I believe He's there, that I believe He exists.

Then I realized--not only do I need to believe in God, I need to believe God. Very small word change, but it makes a big difference. Do I believe God? Do I believe Him when He says that He has good plans for my life? Do I believe Him when He says he hears my prayers and that He takes care of me. Do I believe every bit of His Word? If I don't believe Him, then I don't truly believe in Him.

It made a big difference in the way I prayed for the situation and it is making a big difference in my outlook today.

Do you just believe in God, or do you truly believe Him?

4 years

Four years ago, at this very moment, I was downstairs in our church basement, getting dressed, checking makeup, and getting pictures taken. I wasn't nervous or jittery. I was strangely calm, which I took as a good sign. A few minutes before two, Libby, our friend and wedding director, came downstairs and said we were going to have to wait for a few minutes because there were so many people there, the ushers were having to put out more chairs. That made me nervous--the thought of all those people!

The moment dad and I reached the top of the stairs, and I saw all the people we loved the most and my wonderful husband-to-be waiting for me at the front, I was overwhelmed. I couldn't believe the moment I had waited so long for was finally here. The ceremony seemed like a dream, and when it was all over, we walked down the aisle as husband and wife, and into our new life--which isn't, as you know, quite as perfect as the wedding itself, but beautiful nonethless.

Last night, I asked Michael what had been his favorite moment in the last four years. He thought for a minute, and then he said, "Kade". I started to get offended, and then I realized that that was my favorite moment, too. Not because I haven't loved every second I've spent with Michael, but because when we had Kade, there was finally this perfect, tangible expression of our love. Proof, you might say. Now, I realize that just because two people have a child, it doesn't necessarily mean that there was love involved. In our case, there was. And is.

God has blessed us so richly with each other, with our son, and with all of the other things and people in our lives. We have walked through fire. We have laughed till we cried. We have cried. We have had prayers answered. We have had dreams come true. Most importantly, we have had each other.


I love you, Michael. Always and forever.

Count your blessings instead.....

I grew up with one grandfather, because my other grandfather passed away before I was born. Grandad, however, more than made up for two grandfathers. I don't even know where to start.

I grew up hearing stories of our dad's idyllic childhood, traipsing around in the woods, riding camper tops down the river, sleigh riding off cliffs, and climbing trees, all under grandad's supervision--or should I say with grandad egging on and participating in the activities. By the time my sister and I came along, grandad acted shocked if we suggested any of the activities dad had told us about. He always said they were too dangerous. We gave him a hard time for forbidding us to do any of the "fun" things we had heard about.

We had our own adventures, though. We built dams and hunted for crawdads in the river. We went swimming at the local swimming pool, where grandad urged us to do flips off the side. We searched the woods for the elusive Little Pete. We climbed trees. We "worked out" in the basement. Between my grandparents, grandad was the early riser and we would always wake up in the morning to find him in the living room, reading his Bible.

I can't think of hardly an event in my life grandad ever missed--birthdays, graduations, Christmas plays, chorus concerts, proms, anniversaries. Nothing was too insignificant. He was always so proud of his children and grandchildren and loved all of us. He let you know it, too. I can't count the number of times in one visit or conversation he would say, "I love you, Leah. I love you so much."

When is the last time you ever saw an 80 year-old deadlift? Or jump off the diving board of a pool? There is no way I can fully describe to you how special grandad was and how blessed we have been to have him. Our family has been blessed beyond measure--to be so close and to have such wonderful parents and grandparents. They were both the perfect model of God's unconditional love. It didn't matter what any of us did--they loved us the same. I could never, ever ask for a better grandfather. If I had a choice, I would have never let him go. Ever. My heart breaks and rejoices at the same time, as I know he's meeting Jesus and being reunited with my granny. We will miss him forever, but I have one more reason to hold on to that hope I have.

Grandad, I love you. I love you so much.

When you just don't understand....

Sorry I've been on a bit of a hiatus. First it was Thanksgiving, and then all the rush of getting ready for Christmas (even though it's only December 8), but I'm ready to settle down a little.

This post may seem sort of vague for some of you, but bear with me. It's cathartic for me, and maybe you'll find a nugget of truth somewhere in here for you.

Have you ever been in one of those spots where people say to you: "Just trust in God's timing" or "God has a plan for this"? Have you ever thought to yourself, when someone has said those things to you--"Frankly, I can't think of a plan that could ever explain this or make this situation make sense!"

I'm in that spot right now. I would I could tell you that I've been all pious and holy and saying, "That's ok, God. I know You have a better plan for me life", but I haven't. I'll be nakedly honest with you. The first day of this situation, I sat, pretty sullenly, through an awesome service at church. I wasn't angry with God, but I just felt kind of blank. I didn't try to connect with Him at all. It's hard to offer up your heart to someone when you feel like they've betrayed your trust. I trusted God for something and things didn't turn out my way. My way. 'Cause my way's the best, dontcha know.

Slowly, I'm coming to a place where I can at least say, "Ok, God. You must have something different planned, and I can't wait to see it", because as terrible as it is to feel like God has betrayed you, it's an even worse feeling to go through something awful without Him. Even if you have all of your earthly family and friends rallying around you, it's lonely without your Father. What I mean by that is not that He isn't there, but that I ignore Him because I feel betrayed. What a relief to turn around and run into His arms, weeping as your heart breaks, but resting in the peace that only He can give.

Ultimately, He says that His thoughts are not ours and His ways are not ours--they are better and higher (Isaiah 55:8-9). Even if I don't understand that, I cling to it--white knuckled and breathless, I cling to it.

God, I don't understand Your ways, but I will give You my soul, give You all of my praise.

I know your voice.....

Kade has a distinct voice. Well, to Michael and I, he does. I'm sure that every parent could probably pick their own child's voice out of a crowd. We memorize the cadences and tones in their voices.

When Kade is in the nursery at church and Michael and I are in Sunday School, we can tell when he is the one crying. As soon as we hear that familiar cry, one of us is running out to door to get him. During church, he sometimes sits with his grandparents several rows back. He babbles a LOT, and we can always recognize his "Dabadaphtasdbhgsedadada!" above all the other babies (and there are several!)

Did you know that your voice is familiar to God? He can pick out the sound of your voice, crying out to Him, above the roar and babble of everyone else.

I've heard people say before--"Well, how could God hear my prayer when everyone else is praying at the same time?! What makes my prayer stand out among the roar of all the others?!"

You are God's child. He recognizes your voice. It's familiar to Him. Even if one million other people are praying at the same time as you, He hears your distinct, special voice. He also hears the voice of His child across the street and the voice of His child across the world. The awesome thing about God is that, even though all of His children may be calling out to Him at the same time, He can hear each one of them separately and distinctly. Each request, each thanksgiving, andeach sorrow gets His special attention. Even if we, as humans, recognize our children's voices, we can only listen to and comprehend them one at a time. Not God. He has supernatural ears.

When Kade calls out to me, I recognize his voice, and I come to his rescue!
When I cry out to God, he recognizes my voice and He comes to my rescue!

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! John 1:31 NIV

O, be careful little eyes what you see....

Kade is 15 months old and the new things it seems like he does everyday amaze me.
One day this week, he started slapping his knees and laughing because I had done it while talking to someone on the phone.
We do little hand gestures while we read his bedtime book and he has started doing them along with us.
He's had a runny nose for several weeks and has started trying to wipe his nose himself and in the last couple of days has even attempted to BLOW his nose!
He puts his hands together and squinches his eyes shut when we say, "Let's pray."

I mean, just crazy stuff! As his mother, of course, all these things fill me with pride and reassure me that I have the smartest, sweetest, cutest kid in the world.

I think all parents would admit that there are things they don't want their children to do. We monitor what they see and hear--especially from movies, TV, and even other people in our lives. We try to keep them from the wrong things and expose them to the right things (whatever your "wrong" and "right" is). Especially when they're little.

Sometimes, what we don't realize is that while they're young, WE are the biggest influences in their lives.

Example:
When I get aggravated, I growl. Not like a dog growl, but just a frustrated growl. You probably know what I mean.
Anyway, Kade a month or so ago, Kade started growling a lot.
I was confused, but Michael reminded me that I make the same sound when I'm frustrated. He was right.

See, I never thought about Kade picking up on things that I do wrong. I try to read him the right books and sing the right songs and pray the right prayers, but I didn't even consider that he would imitate my "bad" behavior.

We're worried about what our children see and hear from others, but sometimes not so worried about what they hear from us, their parents, in own own house. It's as if (and I'm speaking for myself here) we think we're immune to the standards we've set for our children to live by.

I've been trying to be more patient lately. I don't want Kade to see my outward frustration all the time--especially at the stupid things that don't really deserve any frustration. I want to teach him to be patient and to deal with annoying things in a healthy way. I want to model that in front of him--not just tell him how he should do it and then turn around and slam cupboard doors and bang pots and pans and kick furniture when I'm upset, myself.

The parenting series we're going through right now says that "Behavior is caught and not taught" and that rings so true with me. It's great to tell your children how to live, but walk that walk in front of them and they'll be 100 times more likely to be who you hope they'll be.