Mother's Day

Dear Children,

  On this week following Mother's Day, I feel compelled to write you both a letter.  You, dear ones, have filled my heart with exceeding joy and love.  You have made me happier, stronger, funnier and more patient than I could imagine.  You are both/all uniquely you, and I marvel at how God has knit you together.  You are special.  You are unique.  You. Are. LOVED! 

  From the moment Dad and I met, we had you in mind.  We prayed for you (and still do, EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.), and tried for you, and waited for you, and wept for you when we thought we were losing you, and cried out for you, and rejoiced over you, or for you, when you were born.  Sweet Young ones, you have been in my heart and my dreams since I was little.  Know this, as much as I have prayers for, dreamed of and desired you, your Heavenly Father has so much more.  And not only has he dreamed of your present, but he dreams over, plans for and delights in your future.  In praying over you, I hold fast to Jeremiah 1:5:

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations."  

God has perfect plans for you, and when you get overwhelmed sometimes looking at what He has called you to, or start to feel inadequate remember this next portion of Jeremiah 1.  It's there for a reason, to remind you that Jeremiah felt the same way.  And God knew that you too would feel just as he did.  He includes this exchange so that you would know that your strength and your purpose are wholly set in him.  In Him, you won't fail in living up to all He has desired and planned for you.  Apart from Him, you'll still probably do great things (because a perfect designer has gifted and purposed you), but those great things won't be eternally great things and they'll always pale in comparison to what He wants to do with and through you.  

Jeremiah 1:6-8 "Then I said, "Ah, Lord GOD!  Behold, I do not know how to speak, for I am only a youth." 7 But the LORD said to me,

“Do not say, ‘I am only a youth’;

for to all to whom I send you, you shall go,

and whatever I command you, you shall speak.

 8 Do not be afraid of them,

for I am with you to deliver you,

declares the LORD.”

Melodie, you have to know how pleased your Dad and I are with you.  You, sweet girl, made us parents.  You broke us in, and you've taught us thankfulness and joy.  You are so very special, and I love every way that God has made you.  God has had your heart from the moment you were born.  You have a sensitivity to the Holy Spirit that I love.  The pictures you've drawn and the stories you tell of your revelations of who Jesus is, and what God's heart is.  Child!  That's the good stuff of being a parent!  That is what my prayer for you has always been.  That you would know Jesus and make him known to everyone you meet.  Melodie, you do that.  When you see someone having a hard time, you tune into them and come alongside them to help.  That is being Jesus, Honey.  Never stop.  Not when it becomes unpopular.  Not when people scoff, not when it's uncomfortable.  Never stop loving those that are hurting.  You will find your heart's delight in serving "the fringe" and the "forgotten".  Be eyes that always see, and hands that always respond.  In this, know, that Dad and I have your back.  We support you.  God will stretch us, as He grows you, but we'll do it for you.  You're worth it, He's worth it, they're worth it.  Remember your weapons, when you fight this dark world that desires to separate, burden, hurt and alienate people.  You have prayer, you have the gift of healing and compassion, and you discern well.  Put those gifts to work and grow in them.
Jesus tells his disciples in Matthew 10:16:
"Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves."
 Your gifts will be like mighty arrows in your quiver.  Trust in the Lord to be the one to take aim, but you build your muscles and readiness and be trained and available to be used.  I delight when I dream of the things God has planned for you.  They're big things, and it'll be an exciting adventure.  I love you, sweet girl.

Bailey," my spit-fire redhead" you must know how I long to hold you and squeeze your guts out.  You are our worshipper.  You have been from the start.  You understand worship and Jesus'' response to the Pharisees in a way that I've only had momentary glimpses of.

Luke 19:40

He answered. "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out."

What is it like?  To worship with pure, unadulterated, unhindered, unselfish, pure resonating worship?  You, dear one, have known your entire life.  And I'm promised that someday I'll get to learn how to really worship from you.  I ache for that day.  Dream of it often, and delight knowing that you are at the feet of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  All the days of your life, forever and ever.  Keep the watch.  Someday we'll join you.  Until we do, we will praise Him with you.  I love you Bailey girl.  Always and forever.

Cy Daniel.  My boy.  You are another answer to a thousand prayers and sleepless nights.  Everyone of them worth it.  You have such spunk, humor, sensitivity and passion.  You remind me of John.  A great friend of Jesus and the one who it's written of that rested his head on Jesus.

John 13:23

"...One of the disciples, the one Jesus loved dearly, was reclining against him, his head on his shoulder."

Be like John, Cy.  A friend of Jesus, willing to rest on him at all times, and also a great revealer of the Word.  Know Him, as He knows you, and just share Him with others out of that friendship.  You have escaped death on more than one occasion already in your short life, the Father has good and perfect plans for you.  That funny, sensitive and crazy personality will serve the Kingdom well.  Let Jesus be the delight of your life and you will never lose reason to bring joy and life to others.  You are a blessing, dear boy.

April Baby, you left us before we got to know you.  But we love you sweet one.  We ache to meet you.  We're thankful for our brief time here with you, because we know we'll have eternity to get to know you.  You are loved.

My children, you should also know a secret.  I wish I were more for you.  I wish I could tuck you in every night, and be there to pray with you for every nightmare.  I wish I were home every morning to help you get ready for school, and snuggle you and tell you how proud I am of you everyday before you leave.  I wish you always heard my voice saying "Be a light for Jesus". When you walked out the door.   I wish I weren't so tired after work, and that I were more organized to make sure you got signed up for all of the teams you want to play on, with the friends you wanted to be with.  I wish I were slower to frustration, and more abundant in love.  I wish I were more wise, more patient and more understanding of how to nurture who God made you to be.  Know this, in all of my shortcomings, Jesus is more than adequate.  In all of my imperfections, there is one who is perfect.  In sleepless nights, or encounters with the world, He goes with you.  In all of my desires to see good and perfect plans come to pass in your life, there is one whose plans ARE perfect and HE is

"...gracious and compassionate, 

slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love".

(Psalm 145:8)

I love you kiddos, and I'm so thankful that God chose me to be your Mom.  You draw me closer to understanding Him.  You make me want to be like Him.  You bring me exceeding joy and delight.  Know always, that when you feel like you've come up short, you're always enough.  Lean in to God and let him transform your identity to be more like his.  It's a wonderfully humbling place to be, and you guys have brought me there.  Thank you!  I love you, each of you.  Now, forever and always.  

Hugs and snuggles,

mom

A Response to "A Message Signed with Blood, To the Nation of the Cross"

This past weekend, ISIS released a video entitled "A Message Signed with Blood, To the Nation of the Cross."  I saw images of 21 Christian men, kneeling in orange jumpsuits in front of 21 men shrouded in darkness.  I looked into the faces of these brave men, and tried to put myself in their place. They must have known what was coming.  They must have been tortured terribly physically, emotionally and psychologically prior to being led out onto that beach.  They must have suffered so much before being on that beach, and yet, I look into the faces of those men and I try to imagine what they were thinking in those last moments on earth.  I see bravery, I see courage, and I see love.

In Matthew 10:24-25, Jesus tells us:

"A disciple is not above his teacher, nor a servant above his master.  It is enough for the disciple to be like his teacher, and the servants like his master.  If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household."

The last is said as a statement, rather than a question.  If we know that Jesus was mocked, flogged, tortured and executed in the most hideous of ways, we also should expect the same being those of his household.  This isn't said to scare us off, but rather so that when these things happen we are not surprised by them.  Two thousand years ago, what happened on the beaches of Libya on Sunday was spoken about.  But what should our response to these actions be?   If I desire to be a disciple of Jesus, then his Word ensures that "it is enough..to be like the teacher"(Matthew 10:24).  And to be like the teacher I need to look at what His response is to these things.

Matthew 14:13-21 gives us an example of what our response should be.  Having just learned from his disciples that John the Baptist had been beheaded, here is Jesus' response:

"Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by himself.  But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns.  When he went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick.  Now when it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, "This is a desolate place, and the day is now over; send the crowds away to go into the villages and buy food for themselves.  But Jesus said, "They need not go away; you give them something to eat."  They said to him, "We have only five loaves here and two fish."  And he said, "Bring them here to me."  Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass, and taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven and said a blessing.  Then he broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds.  And they all ate and were satisfied.  And they took up twelve baskets full of the broken pieces left over.  And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children."

The first thing that Jesus did upon learning about the beheading of John the Baptist is that he withdrew from the crowds to a desolate place by himself.  My contention would be that the Lord himself withdrew to spend some quiet time with the Father, but he was not given much time as the crowds followed him and pursued him.  They actual came out of the towns and went after Jesus because they were hungry.  Hungry to see his response.  Hungry for the Son of God to do something. Hungry to know how to respond.  Did you find yourself in that place on Sunday when you heard the news of our 21 brothers that were beheaded?  Did you go before the Father and search out "why", and "how long", and pray for their families?  Many of us did.  And the world is watching.  ISIS is watching, our neighbors are watching, our friends and co-workers are watching.  The enemy wants to know if their "message signed with the blood" of our 21 brothers will shake us, rattle us, anger us or cause us to turn from serving our Jesus.  They mean to intimidate and silence us, but what should our response be?

"...he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick." Matthew 10:14

We're called to have compassion on them, and to serve the lost.  We're called to heal the sick.  I find it so backwards, when we're in a world of entitlement and "justice", that the model our Savior gives is love and compassion.  It is love to go and engage the crowd, instead of hoarding our time alone with the Father.  It is love to put ourselves at risk by coming out and being bold in our faith.  It is Christ's compassion that does not allow him to consider himself more than the crowd, and allows him instead to go out and heal the sick.  We are called to do the same.  We are called to be compassionate and loving and to pray and believe for the sick to be healed.  

We're also called to share the gospel.  When evening fell, the disciples tried to help Jesus out and send away the crowds.  It's as if they said, "alright, enough of your ministering and love and compassion and healing, what these people really need now is some food.  Let them go eat Jesus, and we can rest too.  But check out Jesus' response, "They don't need to go away, you give them something to eat."  The disciples had no idea what to do, so Jesus took the lead and showed them.  He took the five loaves and the two fish, blessed them and broke them.  Then here's where Jesus shows compassion to his disciples.  They missed their first opportunity to turn the five loaves and two fishes into enough to feed the 5,000+, but he gives them a second chance.  "Here's what you do with it, now YOU go out and give it to them."  Sometimes we don't know how to provide for the impossible circumstances around us. We need to look to Jesus to multiply our meager circumstances.  The Bible tells us that there was such an abundance, that twelve baskets were filled with the leftovers!  

With God there is always more than enough.  And with those who come into our lives, what they are seeking out is a godly response to a world of disorder.  What makes sense in the natural is to preserve our safety, but what makes sense in the spiritual is to have compassion, to heal and to spiritually feed those around us.  The world is looking for a response to the message that ISIS sent, and here is my response: 

Thank you for the reminder to spend the beginning of each of my days worshipping the God of all Creation, and to put his son, Jesus as the example of how I should live my life.  It reminds me of who He is, and gets my eyes off of myself.  And when my eyes are off of myself and on Jesus, it helps me to look and be reminded that everyone I encounter today is in my life for a reason.  The good and the bad.  The healed up and the hurting.  The joyful and the depressed.  Those very near to the Lord, and those that would kill me because of my faith.  Those who shine brightly, and those who are shrouded in darkness.  Each one I encounter is a divine opportunity to have compassion, to pray and believe for healing and to make sure that they know they are welcomed at the Lord's table.  There is a spiritual food that satisfies our deepest hunger and pain, and it was purchased for us through the blood shed on a cross 2,000 years ago.  I have tasted that food and know that it is good, and my deepest desire is to share that food with everyone I meet.  The blood of my Savior reminds me that His death was worth it.  The blood of my 21 brothers on a beach at your hands reminds me that it is worth it.  I have spent time away worshipping my God and praying for you, and I look at you with compassion, desiring for your healing, and welcoming you to my table.  Come and eat with me.  Tell me of your burdens, let me pray for you believing in a real God who will show up and heal your every ache.  Come angry, come burdened, come hurting, come lost, come shrouded in darkness, but come.  Taste and see that the Lord is good, and that there is a life in the light that makes everything else pale in comparison.  

An encouragement to my brothers and sisters in Christ from Matthew 10:28-33

"And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.  Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.  Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?  And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.  But even the hairs of your head are all numbered.  Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than sparrows.  So everyone who acknowledges me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father who is in heaven, but whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven."

Breath in. Breath out. Selah.

This morning I got home from my last night of a 3 night work week.  Usually, I'm too exhausted to do more than slide my shoes off and jump under my covers, hiding my head from daylight until it's time to get my daughter from school.  This morning, I got home with more on my mind than time or ability to process my thoughts, and sat down for a few moments to decompress.

I work as a nurse in a role that I love, but that is full of nuances and responsibilities and irritations that few but those in my role fully understand.  It sometimes makes it difficult to decompress after a stressful or bizarre night.  And while my husband tries, it's often too much explaining of the back story of "why's" than it is worth expressing the frustration or oddity.  I especially wanted to share my night with him this morning, but knew that it'd be too much explaining than what it was worth so I sat with two Oreos and a glass of milk and thought about the week.  I came down with the crud that everyone seems to have gotten this past winter season.  So bad was it, that last Friday I called my husband asking him to bring home a certain medicine from the store.  When questioned as to why I needed it, my only gasped response was, "Because...it feels...like there...is a python...wrapping itself...around my trachea!".  I haven't been this sick in awhile, and at one point, I was breathing so quickly and hard that I had to tell myself to slow it down.  "Breath in.  Breath out.  Selah.  Breath in.  Breath out.  Selah..."  Such has been my mantra this past week.  Sometimes we forget, that the very breath in our lungs, is a gift from God.  I was reminded of that blessed gift with each pained breath last week.

On the heels of having just recovered from the crud, my three day work week began.  It was one of the busiest few days I've had in some time, and it seemed like everyday when I got up and didn't think I'd have enough energy to even drive into work, I'd be met by non-stop flow of patients and work and a need for high attention to detail.  "This is NOT the type of workday I prayed for God!" I reminded Him several times.  And he gently whispered to me, "Breath in.  Breath out.  Selah."  Amazingly, when I did not think I had the strength, or the energy or the mental quickness to deal with what came my way, it seemed to be there.  And this morning, when I should be the most exhausted, I'm overflowing with energy.

As I sat with my Oreos this morning, unwinding, I said the same thing again, "Breath in.  Breath out.  Selah (pause in the presence of God)".  What is it Lord that you wanted to speak to me about this morning?  Much to my surprise it wasn't that he wanted to remind me of the end of my shift, or the unexpected things in the middle of it, or the craziness at the beginning of yesterday.  He reminded me of a text from a friend last week that simply prodded "write" and of a moment I had with one of the physicians last night when she asked me about a key that I had on my ID badge.  I began to explain that our church began a 21 day fast a couple of weeks ago, and at the beginning of it handed out small keys to everyone with a tag attached that said, "ask, seek, knock" (Matt 7:7-11).  One of the messages had been about "open doors", and ended with the challenge of looking at what the doors in 2015 were in our lives and which ones does God want us to walk through and which ones does he want us to close off?  We were challenged to use our keys as reminders of this during the fast.  I placed mine on my work ID as a reminder to myself that I've been missing opportunities with people by anticipating what was next.  For the past 10 years I've looked anxiously for the day when I "no longer had to be a nurse, but could step into doing full time ministry and really reaching people."  All the while missing those in front of me.  God gently reminded me that the Apostle Paul, one of the greatest teachers and most prolific writers of the entire new testament, was a tentmaker.  It hit me in the heart.  God has been asking to see the person in front of me and love them.  So I ended with telling this physician that it's a humility check for myself.  I am here to love people, and meet with them where they are at in some of their most vulnerable moments, and that is my ministry.  She mentioned how that message resonated with her heart, and that she felt similarly with why she still practices medicine.  It was such a wonderful and unexpected exchange, and I would have missed all of it if I hadn't been willing to just sit, and take a moment to breath in. Breath out.  Selah (pause in the presence of God)

What is it that God is wanting to speak to you about today friends?  Grab a couple of Oreos and sit for a minute.  Turn your phone off and try doing this for a couple of minutes.  Close your eyes and focus of taking a deep breath in, a deep breath out, and then pause in God's presence.  He wants your attention.  He wants to speak to you.  Dial down and find that place with Him.

TIthing is important

Last October my family engaged in a 40 day fast, like we have for the past 20 or so years. During that time, Ryan and I were specifically praying for direction and leading for Ryan's career. One night, while praying, the Lord deeply impressed upon us to tithe a very specific percentage of our income for the next six weeks. It was very different from what we had been tithing, and when we prayed about it, we both felt very confident that the Lord was saying, "Test me on this, and see that I will be faithful. If nothing happens, you can stop." It was only six weeks, so we decided to go for it. During that time, Ryan left a job that he'd been at for a few years, got a temp job and randomly during that same time frame, the temp position was no longer needed. We were faced with a decision. Trust God for that six week period and continue to tithe what we had felt led to tithe, or abandon the "experiment" altogther. After praying and talking we decided that Ryan's loss of employment had not come as a surprise to God, and that it wasn't a coincidence that it happened during the six week period. We were faithful. Near the end of the six weeks, God showed to be faithful.

My sister called me up saying she'd been praying about Ryan's job situation and had he considered the post office? After discussion, I thought that it may be an idea and passed it along to Ryan. Two days later, talking to my father he said, "I was praying about Ryan's job situation, and has he considered the post office?" Me, thinking he was in cohoots with my sister, said, "Oh, so you've been talking to Missy, huh?" They both vehemently denied any such plotting.
Ryan took a risk, signed up to take the postal exam and passed. He then applied for a bunch of postal jobs, most of which were for 8-12 hours a week, as that's how we were reassured you get started with the post office. A month went by and Ryan ended up getting a job with full time hours in Michigan! I also went to look for travel assignments in the area. I'd been assured that there were none for the past five years in that area, so it was a long shot. But the night I went to look, one got posted. I applied and received an offer later that week.
Every door has opened for us to make a huge transition and change and we're excited. It was by no coincidence or chance, but rather came from prayer and fasting and tithing. It wasn't the amount that mattered, but obedience to what the Lord had put on our hearts.
If you're stuck in a rut, consider praying, fasting and tithing. There is power in the simple. God wants to move in our lives. He wants to be the Lord of our hearts. He wants us to learn to trust Him, even when it doesn't make sense. Tithing makes no earthly sense, but it makes Godly sense, and I'm thankful for that.My sister called me up saying she'd been praying about Ryan's job situation and had he considered the post office? After discussion, I thought that it may be an idea and passed it along to Ryan. Two days later, talking to my father he said, "I was praying about Ryan's job situation, and has he considered the post office?" Me, thinking he was in cohoots with my sister, said, "Oh, so you've been talking to Missy, huh?" They both vehemently denied any such plotting.Ryan took a risk, signed up to take the postal exam and passed. He then applied for a bunch of postal jobs, most of which were for 8-12 hours a week, as that's how we were reassured you get started with the post office. A month went by and Ryan ended up getting a job with full time hours in Michigan! I also went to look for travel assignments in the area. I'd been assured that there were none for the past five years in that area, so it was a long shot. But the night I went to look, one got posted. I applied and received an offer later that week.Every door has opened for us to make a huge transition and change and we're excited. It was by no coincidence or chance, but rather came from prayer and fasting and tithing. It wasn't the amount that mattered, but obedience to what the Lord had put on our hearts.If you're stuck in a rut, consider praying, fasting and tithing. There is power in the simple. God wants to move in our lives. He wants to be the Lord of our hearts. He wants us to learn to trust Him, even when it doesn't make sense. Tithing makes no earthly sense, but it makes Godly sense, and I'm thankful for that.

The wages of sin...

The other day Melodie came home from school and I asked her what she had learned about in school.  "Sin" she responded quickly.  She pulled a worksheet out of her backpack and showed me that they had been going through Genesis in her class and were talking about Cain and Abel.  She explained how Cain had offered his fruits and the harvest of his crops, while Abel had given meat, and that the meat was the good sacrifice, and the harvest crops weren't.  I was impressed by how well she seemed to grasp the story, she reminded me of some details that I'd forgotten, and we talked about it.  

After talking about the picture, I asked her what she thought sin meant.  And that's when she flipped over her worksheet and showed me the picture that she'd drawn.  Now, she colors the back of EVERY worksheet, mostly with hearts and doodles, but I looked at the picture and was blown away.

After asking her about the picture, here was Melodie's description:

"Well, Mom, it's a picture of the crucifixion.  That HAD to happen because of sin, Mom.  The middle guy is Jesus, and he's being crucified between the two thieves.  That guy (on the left) is smiling because Jesus told him that he'd get to go to Heaven with him because he asked for forgiveness, but the other guy is frowning because he's dying.  Did you know, Mom, that the Bible says that the WHOLE world turned dark because of Jesus on the cross?  The whole thing...that's why I colored the background black, because it was SO dark."

Thank you Jesus.  Thank you for dying on a cross for me, for enduring the awful pain and anguish for me.  Thank you for suffering, for forgiving, even when you were dying, and for giving us a hope and peace, that amidst great darkness we can hope in you because of what you did on Calvary.  Thank you for conquering death and sin. Thank you, that one day, every knee will bow, every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord.  You are a mighty King.  Thank you, thank you, thank you for taking my place Jesus.  Thank you for showing yourself to Melodie and having her "get" what you did.   Thank you for what you're doing in my family right now, it's awesome and refreshing.  You are awesome and mighty, so mighty to save.  I love you Jesus.

The Elephant in the House

Please allow me to begin this story with a small disclaimer.  I have not suffered the most.  I am not perfected in my faith.  And in no way do I think that I have arrived.  My issue with feeling any of these things is that I love a loving God, who always gently reminds me when I think that I have suffered the most, am perfected in my faith, or that I have somehow arrived in the completeness of my faith that I have not, I am not, and no, I'm not home yet.  But praise be to God, He's not through with me yet.

I work in labor and delivery as a nurse for a busy-ish hospital in Milwaukee.  I take care of women and families going through some of their most triumphant and jubilant days, and also through some of their worst days.  I, like anyone who works in labor and delivery, have the hair bristle on the back of my neck when I get the all-too-common comment of "oh, you must have the best job in the world.  People must be so happy", because as us "insiders" know all-too-well, that while there is a great deal of joy in my department, there is also, always looming, inexpressible sadness and grief.

I come from a family who has known their "share" of perinatal grief.  My eldest sister lost her eldest child at 26 weeks, due to congenital anomalies that weren't compatible with life.  It was a "random" thing, and should not happen again.  I have a middle sister who has lost two boys to premature rupture of membranes and spontaneous delivery shortly thereafter.  Both caused by a strange bacteria in her bloodstream that "never should have been there".  And while she was told that it should never happen again, there are two boys that she has to wait and meet again when she gets to Heaven, instead of just the one.  I lost my daughter at 21 weeks, shortly after she was diagnosed with a hypo-plastic left heart.  And while it wasn't a genetic problem, Ryan and I know that we're not spared from more grief with our pregnancies or children.

Two weeks ago we found out that we were pregnant.  Truly, it was a jubilant day for us.  A day of rejoicing, and a day of disbelief.  We could not believe that after only 6 months of trying we were going to be blessed with another kiddo.  Number 3, well 4, or however you're supposed to number your kids on those trendy "pregnancy announcement" pictures.  We told our eldest daughter that we were pregnant, and gave her a teddy bear named Barnabas to hang onto until her sibling arrived.  The teddy bear was to be a reminder for her to pray for her sibling, and then when they came safely, she'd get to give the prayer bear to them and they'd get to keep it.  Melodie was excited.  She squeezed that bear tight, and for three days, Barnabas took prime location in Melodie's bed, sleeping next to her and getting squeezed at night as she slept.  I, also, had decided to be "different" during this pregnancy.  The last three had been full of stress, bleeding, bed rest, worry, but also trust that God was in control.  This time, I decided to be joyful.  I prayed that the Lord would give me the strength to remain joyful throughout the pregnancy, and to again surrender to His will.  "This pregnancy is a gift." I'd thought, "and I'm just going to enjoy it".

So color me confused and dismayed when three days after we'd found out about our youngest little one, I started bleeding at work.  Sitting at work, seeing the blood I was shocked.  "Lord, really?  Really, is this how it's going to be?  I'm so confused, because I thought that you'd wanted me to be joyful and unstressed...but how can I now?  What is going on?"  And honestly, I was ticked.  I was angry that after having surrendered myself to rejoice, finally, in pregnancy, things were going like this from the start.  A few days later, blood work showed what Ryan and I had feared.  There'd be no little sibling for Melodie and Cy coming home before Christmas.  We'd miscarried over the weekend, and somewhere between our house and work, I'd delivered our little one in a toilet, only to be flushed down with the blood and refuse.  How often do people feel like that, I wonder?  Is everyone as bothered by the not knowing when and where their baby delivers if it happens so early on?  I mean, a human life is gone, and there's no ceremony, no recognition.  Just a check mark under the "A" column of a woman's G-FPAL numbers (G-Gravida/How many pregnancies, F-full-term, P-pre-term, A-abortions/miscarriages, L-Living children).  It bothers me, and I'm so sorry Little One.  You're worth more than a toilet burial.  You're life is more significant than a blip on the radar.  You're still my precious little one, even though I never got to meet you.  I love you Baby.  And I can't wait to meet you.

I said before that I have not suffered the most.  I have not.  I see people's prenatals all the time.  I know their G's and P's.  I know that many have lost more, had harder losses than ours, and many that have none.  I'm not lost on that fact, not ignorant of it.  I've taken care of a friend who a few days shy of her due date went in for a routine visit at her OB-GYN and no heartbeat was found.  I was there as her son delivered.  I've taken care of a women who'd had to be induced at pre-viability and held her daughter as she passed away quietly in her arms, and was there again giving chest compressions to her son a year later in hopes of saving his life, only to watch him open his eyes once, as if to say goodbye to his mother.  I watched hours later as he died in her arms.  I've watched beautiful children born, so tangled in their umbilical cords that it choked off the life within them, and then watched others born, even more tangled in theirs and cry brilliantly and loudly moments after delivery.  I've been in the room when a mother hears that there is no heartbeat left in that little soul nestled within their womb, and I've been there to find a heartbeat on a baby that hasn't moved in what has seemed like an eternity for a family.  I've seen miracles, and I've seen horror, and no I don't get it, but I have certainly not suffered the most.

After receiving the news that we officially were no longer pregnant, we told Melodie what had happened.  The next day, as I was tucking her in, she was able to verbalize the elephant in our house.

Melodie: "Mom, I need to talk to you about something.  I'm upset about what happened with the baby."
Me:  "So are we kiddo"
Melodie: "And frankly, I don't think that it's very fair that it had to happen to us again."
Me:  "I know honey"
Melodie: (crossing her arms across her chest)  "And honestly, I really don't get the point of it.  What was the point?  It doesn't make any cense to me."  (then looking at me to have some brilliant response that would make sense of it)
Me: "Me either Melodie.  But you know, this is a really good time to talk to God about how you're feeling, because he really wants to hear how you feel."
Melodie: "I don't really want to talk to God about it, because I'm mad"
Me: You know kiddo, lot's of people feel like that.  But that's when it's most important to talk to God, because he already knows that you're mad.  And it's okay to be mad.  It's okay to be upset, and it's even okay to be mad at God if you are.  But talk to Him about it, because he just wants to come close, to be with you, and bring you comfort.  That's His job, and he likes doing it."
Melodie: "Well, maybe I'll talk to him about it tomorrow, but right now I'm too mad."

You know, I'm so thankful for my five year old.  I'm so thankful for her honesty, because how many of us feel exactly the same way, but can't verbalize it because we're afraid of offending God, or afraid that we'll be seen as having some "lesser faith", or we're actually afraid of what God's response, or non-response will be.  I'm so thankful for being able to have this conversation with her now, with REAL issues, instead of 20 years from now and her having to go through her young years not knowing that we have a God who is close to the broken-hearted, and anxious to spend time with us.  It took me 20+ years to come to the realization that we can "have it out" with God, and that he won't change his character.  It doesn't change his love for us, and that he will always back himself up.  Real relationship with the creator of the universe I think is deepened by trial.  I'm thankful that my five year old knows that.  I'm thankful that God desires relationship with her, and is close to the brokenhearted.  I'm thankful that God knows when we're mad, and that it doesn't bother him.  He still draws close, hears our hearts and heals us.  Thank you Lord, that you're not done with me yet.  Thank you Lord for these moments of tenderness with my kids, and thank you Lord, that you have a plan for our lives.  I don't get it.  It doesn't make sense now to me, but I know that you get it, so thank you Lord.

Two Week Resolutions

I've been challenged lately to do something different.  I've had a stirring in my heart for a little over a year now for "more".  And the more I tried to figure out what the "more" was, the fatter I became.  Not just physically, but spiritually, financially and emotionally.  Monday marked the year anniversary of my cousin's death after reaching the summit on Mt. Fuji.  He'd fallen on the way down the mountain and his body was covered from a snow storm that moved in shortly after.  And although his body went missing, he never was.  We knew where Matt was the moment his spirit left his body, and although indescribably tragic, the experience brought several thousand people to witness what real faith and a real relationship with Jesus looks like.  When gathering his things from his hotel room, they noticed that Matt's Bible was lying open.  I've asked myself countless times since then, "would they find my Bible open, if I went home to be with Jesus right now?"  And the answer, sadly, has been no.

It's time for a change, it's time to be vigilant.  It's time to take action.  My cousin was 33 years old when he passed away.  I am 30.  We're not guaranteed tomorrow.  We're not guaranteed a safe drive home from picking the kids up from school.  But we are guaranteed everlasting life with Jesus when we die, if we have a real relationship with him.  I want that relationship to be the "more".  And I want it to shine brightly, so that there is no question in anyone's mind what I'm living for, and therein lies Ryan and my's attempt at two-week resolutions in 2013.  We have become fat.  We want to become lean, and become true temples of the living God.  And we're going to do it.  We're not perfect, we never will be, but we can become increasingly transformed into the people the God made us to be, and that's what we're going to do.

Why two weeks?  Truthfully, because I fail a whole lot.  If I were to make a year's worth of a resolution and then fall off track two days later, I'd become discouraged, grab a bag of oreos and be done for the year, carrying with me the guilt of not having accomplished my goals.  A year, for me, leads to self-loathing and destruction.  Two weeks, now that's doable.  Ryan and I can do anything for two weeks, and if we don't?  Then we can just endeavor to try again the next two weeks.  After having a long, introspective conversation together, we've realized that if God called us home right now, we would NOT be the people that we've been called to be.  And that is sad, but encouraging to us.  We've got more to do.  We have time left to start trimming the fat.  God isn't done with us yet, and He's not done with you either.  We still have air in our lungs, and so do you.  But we're not guaranteed tomorrow, so let's start trimming the fat today.

Ryan and I developed our four "lys", or four areas for us to focus on this year: Spiritually, Physically, Family, Financially.  Every Sunday night at dinner, or plans are to go over how we're doing on our four "lys", or review how we've done on our two week goals, and make goals for the next two weeks.  Our first two weeks of January were spent "thinking" about what the next two weeks worth of goals were.  That's EASY!  Anyone can do that!  You can even show up to dinner and develop your goals for the next two weeks and BAM!  You've accomplished your first two weeks of goals, AND you're working toward trimming the fat.  These two weeks we've developed spiritual goals, both for ourselves and Melodie added hers in too.

SPIRITUALLY:
Ryan's were: Read my Bible everyday.
Spend time in prayer everyday, and
fast junk food and soda one day a week.

Mine were: Read Ephesians everyday,
spend 15 minutes praying in tongues everyday,
 fast one day a week.

Melodie's were: Love God,
do church at home if we miss Sunday morning (I work nights, so sometime it's hard to get to service Sunday morning),
 no bad attitudes,
Pray for Lucy and Christian (classmates who have been sick)

Family: Talk about Ephesians
Have one family prayer meeting

PHYSICALLY:
RYAN: Lose 10 pounds
Work out 12 of 14 days

BECKY: Lose 5 pounds
Walk 45minutes to 1 hour a day 12 of 14 days until my wrist heals

FAMILY:
Try 1 new recipe from Vegan Italiano

FOOD:
Eat Vegan 5 days a week
Cut back on junk food and desserts

FAMILY:
Make dinner plans with our friends the Bluhms (YEAH!  Plans are made and we're looking forward to it)
Pray for:
FAMILY (A family in our family): Gabe, Ana, Ari and Madeline
RELATIVE (extended): Jerry Johnson's family
FRIENDS: Bluhms
NEIGHBORS: Our neighbors to the right of us...yeah, we don't even know their last name!

FAMILY ACTIVITY:
Geocaching night - Time: TBD

HOUSE PROJECTS:
Ryan: clean and organize the office
Becky: clean and organize the storage room

NEXT FAMILY MEETING:
1/27/13 Sunday dinner

FINANCIALLY:
Ryan: Do not eat out at all these two weeks
Becky: Do not eat out while at work
Don't ask for flexes from work

Family: No hot lunch for Melo

Budget:
Develop the budget with goals that are measureable for the next two weeks and year.

There is our starting point, and I'm excited.  Be encouraged friends.  God's not done with you yet, there's time to start becoming, or become increasingly transformed into who He's made you to be.  Anyone want to join us?

Lost and Found

I come from a big family.  No, I mean a BIG family.  My Grandma and Grandpa Johnson loved each other, but more importantly, they loved the Lord.  My mom was the fifth of ten kids.  I am one of forty-three grandkids, and my kids have been a part of being my grandmother's 100+ direct descendants.  Family get togethers are regularly over 100 people, all of us knowing each other and being a part of one another's lives.  I know it's unusual, but I think a big part of our closeness relates to the fact that the majority of us are not only bound together because we're "Johnsons", but we're bound together as a part of the much larger family of God.  We not only share blood in common, we share his blood in common.  Which leads me to the following story of God's great love and faithfulness.

Last January, my cousin Matt Johnson, was on a business trip to Japan.  He'd been there before, and being that he was an experienced mountain climber, he had attempted to summit the great Mt. Fuji.  He had been unable to, as weather had grown bad and he had to turn around.  Mt Fuji then became a goal, something to prepare for, something to research, something to go after.  So he did.  Knowing that he'd return again on business, my cousin spent months preparing to summit the peak of Mt. Fuji.  He had developed an exhaustive training regime, he'd researched and purchased equipment, he'd looked over maps, and routes and ways to get to the top.  He had gotten as prepared as he could to climb, and this time summit Mt. Fuji.

On January 16th, Matt did not show up to work in Japan, his coworkers knew something was wrong.  They knew he had attempted the climb, and they went looking for him.  His family got a call that no one should have to receive, and then the calls went out to the extended family from there.  I remember where I was when I got the phone call from my mom.  I remember collapsing in sobs to my knees, and I remember my sweet Melodie Joy, kissing me and giving me a hug on her way out the door to school saying, "Oh it's okay Mom.  I'm going to tell my teacher, and we're going to PRAY!  It's okay Mom, we're going to pray."  Thank you Jesus that my three year old daughter knows who to go to first when crisis strikes.  Thank you Jesus, that you are not a God who is far off.

Desperate to do "something", "anything", I went to facebook.  Yes, facebook has a horrible reputation about many things.  People are mean to one another, share things that they shouldn't, are to the millionth degree passively aggressive towards one another, or air their business that should remain private, BUT I thought, "I have a BIG family, most of whom is on facebook, most of whom need to know what is going on, and the family needs to not have to make a million calls to get the info around."  So, I started a private facebook group called, "Please Pray for Matt Johnson", thinking that at least a couple of hundred of my relatives may join, or Matt's sister's friends, etc.  I had no idea what was about to unfold.

The Please Pray for Matt Johnson page quickly spread like wildfire, with my cousins, friends etc sending invites to their friends to come and join.  Not to gawk, not to watch a show, not to passively look at and say, "oh, that's so sad".  Rather, over facebook, an entire family that is spread out throughout the country, along with their friends, relatives and aquaintances were able to come together to do one thing.  We came together to pray.  Now, I grew up in a family that prays.  I grew up with an extended family that prays, and many people have often commented about how special that is.  But now, seemingly in an instant that prayer life, that family of believers was on display for the world, literally the world to see.  Again, not to gawk, but to be welcomed in to pray with us.  To go before the Lord, and to not be satisfied in leaving until an answer was given.  My cousin went missing on a mountain in Japan, and 3,200 strangers banded together to pound on the doors of Heaven seeking his rescue and safe return.  3,200 strangers, many, oh so many of whom had never fasted in their lives, never lamented with such weeping before the Lord, never had gone to a prayer meeting, went.  They fasted with us, they prayed with us, and they were able to go to a prayer meeting with us, many for the first time in their lives.  Strangers committed to praying around the clock for my cousin's safe return.  A 24 hour prayer schedule went out, and everyday the time slots were filled.  Two weeks of night and day prayer, fasting and worshipped happened.  And the best part?  It wasn't bound by denomination.  It wasn't bound by doctrines or theologies.  It wasn't bound by time (as many could look at the prayers people had said from minutes, hours, or days past and join in), it wasn't bound by location, and it wasn't even bound by knowing Matt.  God was up to something.  He had a plan for this.  He'd given an answer (Daniel 9:23) as soon as we had begun to pray.

But two weeks after the prayer surge, the rededicating of peoples' lives to the Lord, the witness of faith and the testimony of Matt's life going out, the disheartening news went forth that the last search.  The search that carried the list bit of hope of finding my cousin alive had turned up empty.  He was not found, and most likely would not be until the snow melted.  For many, that would have been the crushing blow.  For many, that would have been the point of going back and saying that they were done.  But how could we?  You see, for us, faith is, and has always been "being sure of what we hope for, and confident of what we do not see." Hebrews 11:1  While the news and reality of my cousin having died on Mt. Fuji was terrible, it would have been horrifying had we not known that Matt had known the Lord.  I love the way The Message - Bible puts 2 Corinthians 5:6-8 "That's why we live with such good cheer. You won't see us drooping our heads or dragging our feet! Cramped conditions here don't get us down. They only remind us of the spacious living conditions ahead. It's what we trust in but don't yet see that keeps us going. Do you suppose a few ruts in the road or rocks in the path are going to stop us? When the time comes, we'll be plenty ready to exchange exile for homecoming."  And you know what's cool?  3,200+ people got to see that verse lived out by a family who was hurting and grieving the loss of a son, a brother, an uncle and cousin.  You see, we, and very much Matt's parents and sisters, grieve the loss of their beloved because it's the finality of it here on earth.  But they very much rejoice in knowing where Matt is with 100% assurance, with no doubts and no regrets.

I will say this, I had many, "I don't get it God" conversations over the next several weeks.  Many, "God, why would you do things this way?  It felt like you were doing something big God...why would you make it so that you didn't get the glory?  What are you up to God?  Again Lord, why would you have so many people gather together, believing in you?  Believing in your power, believing in your miracles....I mean, many actually believing for the first time?  You were on stage God, and you didn't show up.  I don't get it.  What happened?"  And in the midst of these conversations, a deep peace continued to well within my spirit.  But honestly, I was irritated.  I had many more conversations with the Lord, "Thank you for your peace God.  I know that we came to you first, and had we not done that, we would've been in trouble, we would have had regrets, but why?  Why didn't you take this opportunity to show people that you're still in the miracle business?  I know you are, but I wanted them to see it.  Why would you gather 3,200+ people together, waiting for you miracle and then nothing?  I wanted my cousin to walk off that mountain by your might God.  I still don't get it.  Please still take the glory God.  Find something.  Make it meaningful, Lord.  Have the glory God, even when I don't get it."

Prayers changed over the next several months, and again, I thought that this random group of people who had bonded together over such a great tragedy would diminish, but surprisingly it did not.  People stayed, praying, fasting and praying for peace, answers and for Matt to be found soon.  Even more remarkably, people continued to daily post what a blessing it was for them to see faith in action.  To see a real family bonded together in Christ, unshakeable, immoveable.  My thoughts shifted to, "Is this what this was all for God?  For people to REALLY see what faith looks like?"

Last week my cousin was found.  He was found perfectly whole, intact and with answers showing that he had not suffered.  From all counts, things indicated that he had made it close, if not to the top of Mt. Fuji and had either been blown off the summit or fallen on the descent.  And it was bittersweet.  Bittersweet to know that he had been found and that the worry of him never being found was over, but also sad that he hadn't been one of those that just gets lost on the way down and was traversing the back country of Japan only to turn up in a tea house saying, "Hey, I'm Matt Johnson and I've been lost for a bit."  And while it was nice to know that he didn't suffer,  there were still many questions about what happened.  Questions that it was thought may never be answered or known until yesterday when Matt's camera was found.  So much more than a needle in a hay stack, but on it, pictures of Matt on Mt. Fuji, and most importantly, standing proudly on the summit.  He'd made it!  Short of him walking off Mt. Fuji whole, this was more than could ever have been expected.  Prayers and intercession of thousands have lead to answers and peace for a family who has lost someone incredible, and the big and small blessings continue to flow.  What a mighty God we serve.  I had wondered what Matt had been picturing before he had climbed Mt. Fuji when in his last facebook status he wrote, "A picture is worth a thousand words - especially in a foreign country!"  God cares about the details.  He'd cared about the details since before Matt had even gone missing.  He cared about the family having seen him on Mt. Fuji.  He cared about Matt being found whole, and he cared about the 3,200+ people that came together.  It's never been about the numbers.  My cousin posted once during this whole ordeal that she wished people would stop posting the numbers, and she's right.  She said simply, my brother is missing and we want him to come home, that's what is important, not the numbers, and again she's right.  I bring them up for one reason and it's this.  My cousin Matt Johnson was a christian.  He lived his life for the Lord.  When my Aunt and Uncle went to clean out his apartment in addition to all of the preparation for the climb of Mt. Fuji, they found his Bible, open, preparing, well, for his climb of Mt. Fuji.  Matt didn't know that the day he would summit Mt. Fuji would be the day he also went home to be with Jesus.  But he went prepared.  He was ready.  And as a result of his departure, 3,200+ people were able to see and taste for the first time, or rededicate themselves for the rest of their lifetime to a lifestyle of serving Jesus.  Many saw faith in action, and what a real Christian family looks like.  While mourning the great loss of Matt here on earth, I rejoice at the great testimony that God gave Matt.  Because truth be told, Matt was safer climbing Mt. Fuji with Jesus, than he would have been lying in a hotel room without him.

Matt Johnson at the summit of Mt. Fuji.  

Do you have a personal relationship with Jesus?  If you don't, I'd love to tell you about him.  He's my best friend, my King and savior.  And although he's King of the universe, he loves me enough to answer my pleas for answers.  He'd love to do the same for you.

Perspective of a Four Year Old

God has been stirring a lot of things in my heart lately.  As with most journeys though, the prospect of "starting" has been a bit daunting.  A little background:

1)  I have known Jesus my entire life.  I can literally remember sitting in the front seat of my mom's silver station wagon at the age of 3 or 4 years old and asking her how I'd KNOW that when I died I'd go to heaven.  (May seem like a strange thing for a 3-4 to talk about, but when your life is surrounded by prayer, prayer meetings, church, grace, people reading the Bible, a Father who could ALWAYS be found reading his Bible with a glass of orange juice and buttered toast in the morning, you're going to get there something much bigger than you DOES exist)  My mom told me that I just needed to ask Jesus into my heart.  So I closed my eyes, pictured a Luke Skywalker sized action figurine in my head and asked Jesus to come and live in my heart, knowing that "Luke Skywalker sized action figurine-Jesus" had come and taken residence in me.  I have lived a life KNOWING Jesus ever since.

2)  At a young age I came to the understanding that I was made for something big in God's plan.  (Another sidenote: ALL of God's kids are made for something big.  Some plant, some sow, some reap, but no function of that harvest exists without the other)  In sixth grade we made a time capsule to be opened when we graduated 8th grade.  One of the questions we had to answer was, "What's one thing you want to do before you're done with middle school?"  My response: "To find out what God's purpose and mission for my life is".  In 8th grade I read that answer and though, "Gee, I failed on that didn't I?"  I share that, only to say, I have had a life seeking out the things of God, but not always heading straight into  what it is that He's had planned.

3)  The summer before and fall of starting my freshman year of college I became VERY sick.  My appendix had burst and I had a number of complications after that which led to me be on the very brink of Heaven.  I remember looking at my parents in the pre-op area before heading back for a third surgery after my appendix had burst and saying, "Hey, I want you to know that if I wake up from this, great, God still has something for me here.  But if I don't, even better, because I'm done.  I'm beyond exhausted and I'm ready for Heaven.  I'm ready to go home."  I remember waking up from surgery in my hospital room thinking, "Crap!  Apparently God still has something left for me to do here!  Okay, God, I'm yours because I honestly have NO strength left, and I don't get it".  From that point in my life on, things have been much easier.  It's good to be able to wake up in the morning and know that it's because God has purposed your days.  There really IS something left for you to do, no matter how much pain exists, physically, mentally or emotionally, that air in your lungs = purpose.

4)  Through college God blessed me with an incredible church where I really grew in the Lord.  I realized that my grand feelings of being made for "something big" weren't just feelings, but actually insight from the Lord.  I was made to pray for healing and miracles.  I was made to encourage.  I was made to teach, and I was made to prophecy.  In realizing each of those things God had to break down walls in my heart that I had built up around those things.  I had ideas of what they meant, and who God used to do them, but I was wrong.  I was prideful about those gifts without realizing it, and graciously, wonderfully, mercifully God opened my heart to see and repent of those things and to gently but loudly say, "It's not YOU, it's ME!  Give up allowing YOU to work, and start letting ME work."  An example, I cannot heal anything. Even as a nurse, I can't heal a dog gone thing.  God has set up healing measures in the midst of our bodies.  I can put neosporin on a wound and a band aid over it hoping that the wound heals, believing that the wound heals, but it's not the band aid or the neosporin that heals, it's the mechanisms in the body, that God created that heal each wounded cut.  It's the same in praying for someone with cancer.  I can't cut cancer out, or take it away, but miraculously God can.  He can heal the sick, make the lame walk, the blind see, the infirm firm.  He does it, but He, the author of creation and the giver of healing wants ME to stand in the gap and PRAY, believing that he can do it NOW.  It's been amazing to see the way God has healed people through prayer after that.  Duh, take ME out of the equation and there is a lot less stress on saying exactly the right thing, straining enough, contorting my face enough, being loud enough, etc.  Holy Jesus!  He ACTUALLY still shows up and does the things he did while he walked the face of the earth!  It's not about me, it's about HIS KINGDOM, and him touching other's hearts.

I was and am so thankful for the way my church in college let me step out in faith and grow in the Lord.  They allowed me to step out in ministries the way I was feeling led, to try things differently, to mess up graciously, to learn and to grow.  And I did A LOT of growing, learning and developing the gifts God had given me.  I fondly remember those times and am so thankful for who God molded me into during that time.

5)  After a season of marriage, my husband and I learned graciousness.  We had left the church where I had gone to through college, and that he had gone to since he became a Christian, and we began a journey together as one seeking out the leading and direction of the Lord.  We made A LOT of mistakes when we had left our church most definitely without intention but mistakes both small and large and we found that there were a lot of things we would do differently if we could.  But through that difficult experience we both learned how to experience and receive grace.  No, graciousness did not happen over night.  It didn't even happen after we had both received and extended it, and it most certainly has not yet been perfected in us.  It is SO much easier to hold a grudge, to feel entitled, to want to live in the hurt, but that is not freeing.  That is not life giving, and it didn't hurt anyone but ourselves.  In our hurt, we became aware of the great plank in our own eye and our great need for grace, and of our great need to extend it freely without expectation.  Psalm 145:8, "The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in merciful love."  We both are so very thankful for that grace, and thankful every time we are able to extend it to others.  Luke 7:47, "For this reason I say to you, her sins, which are many, have been forgiven, for she loved much. "  Thank you Jesus for extended grace to me, that I would learn how to extend it to others.

6)  Our new church was VERY different than what both of us were accustomed to, and yet we knew that we were supposed to be there.  "Okay Lord, we don't get it, but we trust you!"  We both come from a charismatic background, and a Vineyard background where "if you're gifted in that area, take your gift and run with it".  That is very much the reason that I had grown into and developed the gifts that God put into me.  I was allowed to step out in them, be it teaching, healing, prophecy or prayer and I learned a lot about what to, and what not to do.  In our new church things functioned MUCH differently.  Now, I say this cautiously.  I'm in no way saying that one way was right, and the other is wrong.  They're just different.  But in many ways, Ryan and I both felt that we were taking a forced sabbatical from the constant "doing" and ministry that we'd been doing and working hard at in our previous church.  And while hard, it has resulted in a greater maturity.  It's easy to stand on the sidelines and be critical of ministries and people leading them when you want to operate in those things outside of the leading of God.  Funny enough, Ryan and I tried doing just that by becoming involved a ministry  at our church.  Now, it had been about two and a half years of going through our forced sabbatical and we were getting "itchy" to do something, ANYTHING and to just start getting active in the church.  So we joined a ministry, which is a fantastic ministry, went through some training and this funny thing happened.  I ended up on bedrest, Ryan ended up losing his job and we had to step back.  Ha!  We had followed ourselves into ministry instead of God!  We can look at that time and laugh now, but God sure did take us by the collar and rip us right out of the things we weren't supposed to be doing, didn't he! :) So thankful for a loving and compassionate King, honestly.  What other God loves us enough to not allow us to serve Him in an area that we're not supposed to be in?  My God does.

7)  All of this leads me to now.  I have been cautious and waiting for what it is that God has in store for our family, and for me.  The 6th grader in me is again crying out, "WHAT IS IT THAT YOU'VE MADE ME FOR?!!"  But the funny thing is this, I KNOW that God is taking me by the hand and standing at the door with me, next to me.  He's been leading me to this door my whole life, and the last several yards I've been looking all around, everywhere but at what's through that door.  I've been walking slower, hoping that this is it, wanting THIS to be it, but finally and for the first time in my life, not wanting it to be of me, from me, or in me at all.  I want THIS to be what God has for me and my family.  I want THIS to be what I was made for.  So, this morning my four year old, Melodie, wakes up and comes out into the living room and asks me, "Mom, can we snuggle and read the Bible together?"  She climbed up into my lap and I asked her what she wanted to read about, thinking that she'd say, "Oh, the lepers, or Adam and Eve, or Jesus, etc."  Instead, she thought about it and said without reservation, "John 5:20".  Hmm, I didn't know what John 5:20 said, I know that it wasn't one of her memory verses from school or Cubbies, sure, let's see what John 5:20 says Melodie.  "For the Lord loves the Son and show him all he does.  Yes, he will show him even greater works than these, so that you will be amazed."  We then went on to read the entire fifth chapter, after about the fifth question of "Mom, what does "..." mean?" Melodie quietly said, "Mom, I'm sorry I keep interrupting you telling the story."  My heart leapt within because I didn't mind at all, she really was wanting to KNOW my Jesus.  Praise God, and thank you Lord for leading Melodie to ask to read John 5:20 this morning.  I'm thankful that you've lead me to the door of the adventure you have for us and that this morning you clearly said, NOW is the time to open it!  Show us what you're doing Lord!  Let us ask questions so that we can KNOW what your are doing and let the "greater works" happen so that we and those around us can be amazed at our Jesus and King!  We love you Lord!

Reflection on grief

"I have been daily grateful for the friend who remarked that grief isolates. He did not mean only that I, grieving, am isolated from you, happy. He meant also that shared grief isolates the sharers from each other. Though united in that we are grieving, we grieve differently. As each death has its own character, so too each grief over a death has its own character-its own inscape. The dynamics of each person's sorrow must be allowed to work themselves out without judgment. I may find it strange that you should be tearful today but dry-eyed yesterday when my tears were yesterday. But my sorrow is not your sorrow. There's something more: I must struggle so hard to regain life that I cannot reach out to you. Nor you to me. The one not grieving must touch us both. It's when people are happy they say, "Let's get together"." Lament for a Son - Nicholas Wolterstorff (page 56)

My cousin's recent death while climbing Mt. Fuji in Japan, has caused me to reflect quite a bit on grief. Just as Nicholas Wolterstorff says, "grief isolates". It's such a very different experience for each of us, and yet, it should be so. My experiences with my cousin are different from his sister's experiences with him, his mother and father's experiences with him, his friends and co-worker's experiences. It is a testimony to our uniqueness to watch people grieve. It is a testimony to our soul, our personality, the "thing" that makes us different, special, loved, is the very thing that not only brings us together but also isolates us. My perspective on the death of my cousin is so very different than his sister's. I grieve for their loss, knowing that while I miss Matt, I know where he is and look forward to seeing him in heaven (such is the blessed promise of the resurrection, that promise coming by faith in Jesus), but my cousins grieve because although they know they'll see him again, right now a part of them is missing. Always one gone at dinner, always a phone call missing on their birthdays, always a laugh that is now not shared, now there is one sole keeper of an inside joke that no one will ever fully understand the funniness of. A unique perspective from this world is now gone, never again to be shared, and that is the harshness of grief.

Yet, we do laugh again, we do smile, we do find that although the colors of our world have faded-they do still exist. There are moments where we catch ourselves diving back into "life" again, and then we are caught altogether by the thought of "Matt will never see this again" and it brings us back. Why then are we forced to grieve? Why is it that we are allowed to pass through this harsh time yearning for our beloved and aching from our hurt? I believe that the simplest of answers is that this present time is not the fullness of the time to come. For now, we live in a time of the now, but not yet. Jesus has come. He has conquered death, but the fullness of his kingdom is not here yet. But we are promised that it is coming. We are promised that the victory shall be his. We are promised that death will be swallowed up forever. I look forward to that day. I look forward to the day of a new Heaven and a new Earth. One where there will be no more sorrow or mourning, but a day where we will worship the King in his fullness in the way that he has always intended for us. I do look forward to that day and I'm thankful. Thank you Lord that this is not the end. Thank you Lord that we are not here today and gone forever. Thank you Lord that you have a plan, have always had a plan, and that despite all of our shortcomings, you love us enough to complete your plan.

Isaiah 25:

¹ LORD, you are my God;
I will exalt you and praise your name,
for in perfect faithfulness
you have done wonderful things,
things planned long ago.
² You have made the city a heap of rubble,
the fortified town a ruin,
the foreigners’ stronghold a city no more;
it will never be rebuilt.
³ Therefore strong peoples will honor you;
cities of ruthless nations will revere you.
⁴ You have been a refuge for the poor,
a refuge for the needy in their distress,
a shelter from the storm
and a shade from the heat.
For the breath of the ruthless
is like a storm driving against a wall
⁵ and like the heat of the desert.
You silence the uproar of foreigners;
as heat is reduced by the shadow of a cloud,
so the song of the ruthless is stilled.

⁶ On this mountain the LORD Almighty will prepare
a feast of rich food for all peoples,
a banquet of aged wine—
the best of meats and the finest of wines.
⁷ On this mountain he will destroy
the shroud that enfolds all peoples,
the sheet that covers all nations;
⁸ he will swallow up death forever.
The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears
from all faces;
he will remove his people’s disgrace
from all the earth.
The LORD has spoken.

⁹ In that day they will say,

“Surely this is our God;
we trusted in him, and he saved us.
This is the LORD, we trusted in him;
let us rejoice and be glad in his salvation.”

A blissful life

It wasn't until recently that I've actually realized how much stress we'd been under as a family. It felt as though the weight of the world was on our shoulders. Now, however, it feels as though all of that weight has been lifted. The skies seem brighter, the air seems fresher, and I have never enjoyed being awoken at 3am more than I do now. My little boy is so content and easy, it seems as though having two at home is much easier than one ever was. Melodie is so good with her brother. She loves to come next to him while he's crying and talk to him in a nice, calming and quiet voice. She loves to give him his pacifier, or sit on my lap and feed him or burp him. She is just in love with her little brother, and he seems to be in love with his sister. Life is pretty blissful right now.

We received a card and gift from one of the couples at church this past week. The card read, "I prayed for this child, and the LORD has granted me what I asked of Him. -1 Samuel 1:27" On the inside it read, "Sharing the joy of answered prayers, hopes granted and dreams come true." Throughout this pregnancy we held onto the hope of having our son safely in our arms, and every day we get to hold him and see him grow we're reminded of God's faithfulness. The card we received this past week reminded me of a blog post that I'd written the night before Bailey passed away. It was a love letter to our daughter about how much we loved her, how much we prayed for her, and how much we looked forward to seeing her grow and watching the plans that God had for her unfold. Unfortunately those hopes and dreams for our daughter were cut all too short. We never got to hear her cry, we never got to see her smile, never got to stare at her watching her little chest move in the middle of the night just to make sure she was still breathing. We never got to hear her laugh, or come up with a joke, or even hear her voice. I know we will someday, and in the scheme of eternity, that day is not too far off. But when a child is lost at the very threshold of life, it feels as though the very air in your lungs is taken away, and it becomes hard to even breath a breathe of relief. I didn't realize that I had been caring that same "held breathe" with me since we lost Bailey, but it was always there. Now again we're at the threshold of life, but this time we are able to rejoice in Cy's life, of answered prayers, hopes granted and dreams come true. We can finally breath. We know that our son would not be here if it weren't for the steadfast love of the Father, and the commitment to intercessory prayer that went forth on our behalf. Truly, what a time for many to rejoice at this little guy's life. So many people have had a part in him getting here safely. So many people will have a part in steering him towards a life committed to the LORD. Like Hannah standing before Eli, Ryan and I have committed our children to the Father. What a neat card to have received this week, and what a neat reminder that we do get to watch the hopes and dreams we have for this boy unfold.

"...26 I am the woman who was standing here in your presence, praying to the LORD. 27For this child I prayed, and the LORD has granted me my petition that I made to him. 28Therefore I have lent him to the LORD. As long as he lives, he is lent to the LORD." -1 Samuel 1:26-28

God is Faithful

God is faithful. The last three years have felt like they've been a constant struggle. About three years ago in August Ryan and I tried to start having a second baby. A year and a half ago, we did have our second baby, but she was 19 weeks early, and had passed away before we got to meet her. That delivery was surrounded by uncertainty, was very high risk, and we looked at the possibility of us losing our fertility, if not my life as well. People prayed for us from in our hospital room, throughout the city, across the country and in India a group of women gathered and prayed continuously for us throughout the night that Bailey would come safely and that we'd have a miracle. We did have a miracle that morning. It was Ryan and my 3rd anniversary, and at 6:33 in the morning, Bailey was born. Perfectly whole, perfectly beautiful and before the placenta...which was, our miracle. We got to spend time with our daughter that day, and then five days later buried our little girl with the promise of seeing her someday again in Heaven. God is faithful.

The rest of the year was followed by a lot of pain, both emotional and physical. I had a few surgeries and Ryan and I began trying again for another child. Last August I took Melodie to the opening day of the State Fair. While walking around I had an intense episode of morning sickness. After that, Melo and I went to watch the pig races (It's Wisconsin, you have to have pig races). The way the race works is that they pick three kids out of the crowd to root for the different pigs in the races. There were three races that we watched. The first race came and went and afterwards the guy running the race called out the the winning Pig Rooter, "Hey little lady, what's your name?" The cute little girl responded, "Bailey". The second race was run and the guy running the race called out to the winning Pig Rooter, "Hey little lady, what's YOUR name?" The girl responded, "Uh, it's Bailey." "Bailey?" as if to clarify (because really, how many Baileys have you ever met? I've only met one, and it was my daughter). "Yep, Bailey!". The final race went and the guy asked the winning Pig Rooter, "Hey, what's your name?" She responded, "Um Sir, you're not going to believe me, but it's Bailey." The guy let out a long whistle through his teeth, and said, "Well, ain't that the darndest thing?" Much to the pleasure of the crowd. I, on the other hand, was convinced that this was a special message for me that I was pregnant. So when the end of the month came and went with a negative pregnancy test, I was confused and bummed. Why would it have seemed that God had orchestrated such an odd day at the fair for it all be for naught? It just didn't make sense, but in the midst of that Ryan and I held onto one thing, that God is faithful.

Ryan and I continued to try for another child, and in November we found out that we were expecting another baby in August. We were both thrilled, and nervous. A month later I ended up on bedrest for 8 and 1/2 weeks because of a subchorionic hemorrhage, that I was told, because of its' size in relation to the baby, would likely cause us to miscarry. Again we were surrounded in prayer. And again we trusted the Lord with our pregnancy. I had a relatively easy pregnancy after that point, with only some preterm contractions and a couple of trips to Labor and Delivery to rule out preterm labor, but nothing major. We had a very happy, very active little boy growing inside of me, and we were thrilled but cautious about our excitement. Last week Wednesday I began to contract regularly, after awhile I went to the hospital, was found to be in labor, and got an epidural. Everything was going great. Cy looked good on the monitor, I was comfortable, and things were progressing without a problem. That is, until they broke my water. Cy started having really big decels in his heartrate, and his heart tones looked really ugly, my nurse (and co-worker), turned off the volume of the monitor, turned the screen away and told me just to trust her. I decided to just go with it, relax and be a patient instead of a nurse. A few hours later, my cervix still hadn't changed since when they'd broken my water and the decels continued. My OB came in to place internal monitors, which I knew meant that I only had a couple of hours to make some good change or else I'd end up with a c-section. When my OB returned 20 minutes later and told the nurse to turn off the Pitocin, I figured that it meant Cy's hearttones looked pretty ugly. When she told me I had 10 minutes to be complete and delivered, I realized how ugly his hearttones were. I ended up with a c-section, and at 1:55 in the afternoon, Ryan and I heard a noise that we'd been waiting three years to hear. The sound of our baby crying for the first time. Cy Daniel was also born perfectly whole, but with this kiddo we were given the added blessing of looking forward to enjoying him for the rest of his life. God is faithful.

It wasn't until a few days later that I realized that he had come on the first day of the State Fair. Exactly a year to the day after last year's experience of morning sickness and "The Baileys" at the pig race. God is faithful.

In another neat work of God, our good friends welcomed his parents to town from India. Sunder is from India, where Joanna met him while on a mission's trip with YWAM. Sunder's Dad is the pastor at the church where Joanna did some work, the two fell in love, and after a long courtship, got married and live a few blocks away. Sunder's Dad and Mom were responsible for the all night prayer and fasting that was done by a group of 40-some widows at their church that went through our dark night and resulted in us holding our miracle, Bailey, and being able to say goodbye. This week we were able to welcome them into our home, and THEY were able to hold our most recent miracle, Cy. God is faithful.

We have had such an easy transition to have the two kids at home. I've had such little pain from the c-section that I'm a bit in disbelief. Cy is one of the most content and easy going babies that I've been around, and Melodie adores her brother. We've been welcomed home to numerous e-mails, facebook messages, cards, calls and visits all rejoicing with us at the latest addition to our family. I've been able to have my mom and sister stay with us to help me recover this first week, and I can't believe how easy and wonderful it has been. We are overjoyed, thrilled and blessed. God is faithful.

Number 3

Number three is on his way! Well, in about 22 weeks he'll be on his way, but we're thrilled! I can't believe how the year has gone, and how Melodie has grown over the last few months. She's getting pretty excited about her brother, and quite independent as well.