Sorrows come. . .

"Sorrows come To stretch out spaces in the heart for joy."

It has always been a fascination of mine to think of how Joy and Sorrow are two sides of the same coin. The idea that we cannot appreciate true joy without having sorrow to contrast with it has been a theme I've found in much literature and also explored in my own writing. I'm sure that there have been past experiences that have borne this out in my own life, but most recently, I've seen this in my feelings toward our newborn son. I have loved all of our children and delighted in their development, but there is a deep joy and delight in holding Luke. I find myself stealing moments to hold him, watch him, and just take pleasure in being his mother. There is a rightness in my soul when I am taking care of him. Perhaps, God has allowed this journey to soften and deepen my mother's soul. God's word is true when it declares that God has "turned my mourning into dancing;" and has, "loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness. . . O LORD my God, I will give thanks to you forever!" Psalm 30:11-12

A Good Morning!

While most runners are easing into their winter maintenance after a holiday break, I am just getting started. I am one week into my reentry plan. Last year at this time, I was training for the Winter Series Races and actually ran one of them, when I got a telltale sickness in my gut. I'd had that same feeling a couple of times before. I ran a handful more runs after that eight mile race then decided to take it easy. When we found out that I was indeed pregnant, the doctor suggested limiting my runs to one mile just because of my history and the lack of a diagnosis. Then, my husband who loves me and is over protective (in my book,) told me that he preferred that I not run at all. At first, that was really difficult, but it got easier. Too easy in fact, and I didn't want to run or even move for that matter. Now that our Luke is three months old, I don't have an excuse. Therefore, I am back in the saddle again. The most I have gone is 2.7 miles. Not a long way, but something. I have been somewhat consistent this week even juggling running with all my mommy jobs and the hubby's running. Yesterday, I made it a whopping 2.3 miles, but I did it outside and managed to run the entire way up the hill even without the dog towing me. When the hubby got up to run this morning, I wasn't sleeping due to a stiff back, so I decided to join him for the first mile up the hill.

The cold brightness of the stars greeted us. There were so many visible that I could barely discern Orion's belt. The stars quickly faded and were replaced with the soft gray of the dawn. I especially enjoyed seeing the shadows of the trees against the lightening skyline. What a beautiful way to begin a day and a special reminder of why I love running. It is good to be back.

A Grateful Heart

Sunday, we asked our pastor to pray a prayer of dedication for Luke. He asked for words of testimony. While I didn't share then, I thought about it after. This is my heart on the matter.

I thank God that we stand here today. Not just because we are holding Luke, but because of all the steps that have brought us to this place. I thank Him for the miscarriage and the sound Biblical teaching that He used to bring us to the place of desiring to have and submitting to having more children. Then He gave us another child, and we had to say goodbye after holding his pre-term body for a few short hours. After those lessons, I thought that we had finished the course and that joy would follow closely, yet the lessons were not over. I came to think that we would never hold our brand new baby again. I struggled with finding peace with that outcome and trusting that God had put the desire for another child in my heart for a reason, but that that reason might not have been to grant it. I thank Him that He allowed us to get pregnant before we had decided if we were willing to go through that pain again and then took that child before we were able to hold him. I look at the patient and loving ways that God kept showing us that He is God and that His ways are not ours, and I say, "Thank you for Your wisdom, patience, and love." Now, I thank Him that He has filled our arms and hearts with the joy of holding Luke's precious, warm body. I would not change the journey. Each step has taught needful lessons.

Thank You, God, for Luke. He is the answer to many prayers. He is light, and life, and joy to my heart. He is precious and dear to us. Thank you for the chance to hold him today.

LOST!

Today, was my last baby appointment for this pregnancy. It took forever: from the ultrasound starting 25 minutes late to the doctor having to be out for emergency surgery. We had to be shifted to another doctor who was just fitting us in. Of course, we all went so that we could pick up our van that has been in the shop for the last week. We were supposed to be saving gas and time on an extra trip to town, but we got more than we bargained for in the LONG waits at the doctor. The kids did great, but I could see the tension was building for my husband who was trying to keep them happy and quiet for the three hours that we were there. Finally, he took them out to the car. It was just easier than keeping everyone quiet and happy in a ten by ten room with two chairs and lots of things that shouldn't be handled by a three-year-old. While they were watching videos of themselves on Dadda's phone, I was reading a very inspiring book about pregnancy. Funny how I ended up reading the part about labor. Yikes! The thing that struck me though was this thought. The author, a woman, had the courage to say that women who are in the last few weeks near delivery are not really functioning in their right minds. I would argue with her and say that that idea is crazy, but I have a strange feeling that my husband and children would agree with her analysis. That means that I am not in my right mind right now. . . . Oh, the other interesting thought that she put forth was that during that same time frame, women start to stop really caring about the normal everyday things around them that are usually so important. I will agree with this idea. Frankly, I don't really care if I eat for the next week or not, and who has the energy or interest to think about laundry, clean toilets, or even teaching my children. Maybe, I'm not really in my right mind after all.

Thirty-four weeks

I went to the hospital today to do the paperwork for our expected delivery in a few weeks. The last time I entered those doors was for a memorial service for our son that I delivered at 16 weeks. Just walking up to the front of the building was difficult. When I got back to the other building, I went into the bathroom and sobbed. I could have controlled my tears, but didn't. I was crying for the children that I haven't held and for the friend who lost her husband this week. In our finite minds, we often try to figure out how we could have caused a result other than the tragic one that we are facing. Yet, "His ways are not our ways, nor His thoughts our thoughts," and His ways are good. Even when they involve suffering. Especially when they involve suffering because then we are driven to the ends of ourselves and to the Lover of our souls. My fear is that I haven't allowed these fiery times to purify my soul as He desired. That somehow, I have wasted the dark night and missed out on the brightness that the day could have held. Again, I come and wait; wait for the Spirit's whispers that reassure me that He is working and that His way is best. That though imperfect, I am still His blood-bought child.

Thank you for today

This morning, we had our first of what promise to be many ultra sounds. Our baby is 18 weeks old, and the doctor wanted to see how he is growing. Unlike my pregnancies with our other children, I find myself waiting for the bad news at each appointment. It is always a relief to hear the nurse or technician say, "There it is," about the heart beat. Today was no exception. When we finally saw the little heart beating on the screen, the tears of thanks ran down my face. So now, I say, "Thank you," to the Giver and Preserver of Life. I also want to learn to give the lives of each of my living children to God in the same way each day. I want to consciously acknowledge that He alone has the right and power to give and take life. "Lord, thank You for giving our littlest one more days on this earth. Help me to love him and all those that You have put into my life to love, in ways that please You and show my understanding of Your power and control."

Are you telling the truth?

Nap time can be one of the most difficult parts of my day as a mother. I not only need a few minutes to breath deeply and think without interruption, but I also desire for my tired little ones to surrender and get the rest that I know that they need even when they think that they aren't tired. Today looked like one of those days when I would battle my two-year-old most of the afternoon just to get her to give in minutes before I had to wake her to head to a her brother's soccer game. I was especially convinced of this when I looked in to see her standing up in bed and dancing around with her blanket. After correcting her, we tickled and kissed then I reminded her that it was time to settle down and rest. The next time I looked into her room, I was prepared to enter the battle once more, but wonder of wonders, she was asleep. It was then that I realized how important it is to her that I keep my word, when I tell her that I will be checking back to see if she is asleep. When I keep my word and punish her for her misbehaviour, I am giving her reason to believe all the words that I say. Words like, "I love you," or, "You are smart." When I keep my word and make her obey, I am proving to her little heart that I am telling the truth when I tell her about the God of the Universe and His love and sacrifice for her. What a motivation to take care with the words that I speak to my children! What conviction that I must follow through on the expectaions that I set.