Monday, March 30, 2009


We are off to Disneyworld for a whole week!!!

See you next tuesday, friends!


Sunday, March 29, 2009


Dear Joshua,

I know you see me smile. I know you see me laugh. You see us going on about our lives...planning vacations, shopping, cooking, playing. It may seem as if we have forgotten you.

We haven't. We will not.

Everywhere we go, you will be there. You will be in our hearts as your sister sees Cinderella's castle for the first time. You will be with us as we fly. You will be with us as we laugh with joy at the parades and characters.

You will be there, engraved on my soul. I will hold you and pray for you and think of you and what might have been.

I am not sad for you, baby boy. I am sad for us, who will never see your face or know your temperament. We who will never give you a time out or a goodnight kiss. I can only know you in my heart. I can only know you, soul to soul and not face to face. This is the worst of it- the wondering of who you would have been.

So we will take you with us. To Disneyworld. To the park. To the grocery store. To the world. We will carry you long after others have forgotten.

Be happy, be free, be joyful.



Worship and grief

Everywhere around me, there seems to be loss. One blog leads to others, telling of lost children...death, miscarraige, a birth mother changing her mind about an adoption. There are news stories rife with parents killing their children, children being lost to drugs and alcohol.

It seems, as a parent, everywhere you look there is peril. At all times there is danger. At any moment there can be loss. It's enough to cause nightmares, fear, horror.

With my own recent loss I have battled mightily against fear. Fear that I won't ever carry a baby to term again. Fear that I failed my baby, that my body let him die. Fear that I did not keep him safe.

I fear for Lily at all times. I am always one step ahead, trying to keep her unharmed. But harm comes into every life. It is inevitable. Just the idea of this is enough to make my stomach hurt and my body to go cold.

I have said it before, but it bears repeating- I am not a Bible scholar. I know enough of it to find comfort, and often turn to scripture when I am lost. But I don't know enough to even say I have a base knowledge.

Today I was seeking comfort. Today the baby was on my mind. The idea of taking Lily to a huge place like Disneyworld and losing her was in my thoughts. Flying, as always, strikes me with terror. I was in need.

I've never read the book of Job all the way through, but in my search I came across it. I was immediately drawn to these verses:

18 While he was still speaking, another also came and said, "Your sons and your daughters were eating and drinking wine in their oldest brother's house,

19 and behold, a great wind came from across the wilderness and struck the four corners of the house, and it fell on the young people and they died, and I alone have escaped to tell you."

20 Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head, and he fell to the ground and worshiped.

21 He said,
"Naked I came from my mother's womb,
And naked I shall return there
The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away.
Blessed be the name of the LORD."

22 Through all this Job did not sin nor did he blame God.

My God in heaven. I was struck dumb at how Job reacted to the news of his children's death. He "tore his robe and shaved his head, and HE FELL TO THE GROUND AND WORSHIPPED"

Everything had been taken from this man, and still he says "blessed be the name of the Lord".

Wow. Let that sink in for a moment. He worshipped God upon hearing of his children's death. He grieved, oh yes, but he also worshipped. He blessed God. He did not blame God.

Oh what a few lines of scripture can do to a weary mother's heart. Like water to desert sand, I absorbed these words.

I have tried not to turn from God in my grief. I don't understand, and I am struggling with my own humanity to just LET IT BE. In my mind I know it is not up to me to know why my baby didn't get to live. I could give it up and rest easy in the promise that I will see him again...but some days, oh the sadness and anger is encompassing. I look at Lily and wonder what he would have looked like. I think of how big he would be now and how I would feel him growing each day.

But it was not meant to be.

How, though, can I be like Job? How can I worship in the very next breath from grief? How can I call him blessed when I am angry?

I don't know. I wish I did.

The best that I can do right now is simply let God know that I am trying. I am trying to come to peace. I am trying to worship in the midst of my disappointment. I am trying not to blame or ask why. I am trying to simply be joyful, and when I cannot be that, be thankful...and when I can't even be that, to be quiet and listen.

Because that is when God speaks to me. When I am worn down. When I stop running. When I sit in silence and let the tears come and let the worry bubble up. The fear and the uncertainty. And that is when He comes, and when I feel Him. It is when I know He cries with me for my loss, all of my loss.

I know he grieves with me. And for that reason alone, I know one day my wounded soul with grieve with one breath and worship with the next. My mouth will speak words of praise and blessings even while I cry for loss. And one day the reason why will simply not matter, and what IS will.


If you haven't read MckMama's blog, it is so beautiful. She is clinging to her Savior as her child goes through such pain. She is being his advocate while still trusting in God's healing. She is dealing, and documenting every emotion with rawness and beauty and faith.

Please continue to pray, and if you haven't yet read Mckmama's blog, click on the button to the right. It's worth your time and your prayers.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009


Stellan is in V-Tach. This is deadly. Please pray.


Some of you may be familiar with MckMama's blog, and her miracle baby, Stellan. Some of you may also know this precious little miracle is currently in the hospital with a serious heart problem. When I heard about this, I was devastated. I fell to my knees in prayer, then after reading Angie's blog, I fell to my face to ask God to save this precious little boy.

I feel very comfortable praying for others. It is not a problem for me to take my prayer time and ask God to bless others, people I haven't even met in real life sometimes. If I know a friend is struggling, I pray. If I know a family memeber is having a tough time, I pray. It is second nature for me.

But God revealed something very profound to me yesterday as I was facedown before him. I begged him to save Stellan, and naturally my prayers went to others whom I know need help. Then, as I always do, I sat quietly and waited to hear. And I was overwhelmed by a need to pray for myself, for my own troubles and worries, but as I always do, I squashed it. It rose up again, along with tears. I pushed it away and waited to hear His voice.

Then it hit me- what if that feeling of desperate longing is FROM God??? What if the feeling urging me to spill out all of my burdens is from him? Encouraging me to let it go, to give it up? The idea of this was enough to bring a flood of tears.

I don't push God away because I don't feel He is capable. But I hesitate to ask him for things for myself because I feel so absolutely unworthy. I have made some very poor choices. I have hurts others so badly. I have lied, I have cheated, I have been unforgiving and unkind. He knows ALL OF IT. Even those things not another living soul knows. He also knows all of my unkind thoughts, petty anger, jealousies. He knows ME.

So how in the world could He love me, knowing all He does? Anyone else would walk away in disgust.

But He is not anyone else, is He?

And I need to step out on a limb, and trust Him.

Don't get me wrong, I trust God. I trust Him for everyone else but ME. Because I feel as if I am unworthy to even stand in His great presence, sinner that I am. With all of my flaws, my unkind thoughts, my bad deeds. I feel as if I don't deserve grace.

Grace. We can't earn it, we can't work toward it, we can't ask for it. It is a GIFT, freely given. Forgiveness. Hope. Peace. All of these things come as a result. But you have to be able to trust Him with all of it, good bad and ugly.

Wow. What a huge and life changing revelation. Through the rest of the day, I kept coming back to the Lord and asking- "Really? Me? You want ME to ask you for what I need?" and always, peace would flow through me and I knew that I had unblocked a portion of my relationship with God that had been blocked by fear and anxiety.

So here it is, a new day. A new way to pray. For others. For myself. A new way to praise God- for everything, great and small. For answered prayers and unanswered prayers. For what I need, if it is HIS will to give it. For peace when I don't understand.

All of this, for just one thing from me- my heart and my love.

A better bargain has never been struck.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Don't shoot the messenger

So I've got alot on my mind, and not alot of time to put it all down. Bear with me.

Mark and I have a strong relationship. Rock solid. But rock solid doesn't mean it's always happy. It doesn't mean it's free from painful times. Last week was just such a time for us.

I know what I am going to say is not a popular way to see married life. But for me, it is what my psyche and soul can settle comfortably into.

My husband needs to be put back on the list. He needs to be my number one priority. He cannot be neglected or sidelined simply because he can take care of himself, or because he doesn't complain. He needs to be first in my life. This has not been the case lately.

I know that I am a really good mother. I have moments of doubt, but I know it because I try damn hard to be so. But I don't try so hard at being a wife. I don't put a tenth of the effort into it as I do to being a mother. Why?

Because Lily NEEDS me so much. She needs and depends on me for survival. But in a way, so does Mark. I am his lifeline, his partner, his friend. I even work at my friendships. Why wouldn't I work at my relationship?

Because it's easier not to. Because it takes time I don't have. Because I am tired. Yes, all of those are true... but in neglecting him I am neglecting the cornerstone of our household. I am neglecting the foundation of our family. Without him, we crumble.

Yes, I know that's soooo not women are taught in our society. We are taught that marriage is a partnership, it's 50/50. But In doing so, we deny some of the basic truths of our genders. Women are more nurturing. Women can multi-task. Women think with their soul and hearts and spirits as well as their minds. Women can run a household, nurture their children, be a good citizen, make time for their friends, and take care of their man. Men can think logically and not let emotion dictate decision making. They can make definitive decisions. They are analytical and driven. They want to provide and protect.

Now I am not saying that some of these traits don't cross gender lines. Many of them do, and can. But our strength as women lies in our softness, our kindess, our nurturing tendencies. When we are competing for power in our relationship, we defeat ourselves. When we are trying to maintain ALL of the power, we are defeating our man. And no defeated man is happy, I can tell you that. I speak from experience.

I am a nag. I am unkind. I snap. I wrestle for power. This comes naturally to me, whether it is something I have been taught or personality.

But when I do that, I hurt my husband. I anger him. I defeat him. And then he is unhappy. And if he is unhappy, so am I.

And damnitt, I want to be happy!!!! I want him to be happy!!!!

So, I have been attempting, to the best of my ability, to humble myself. To think of Mark FIRST. To think of him as a person, not just my husband. As my friend. As my great love. To give freely to him without worrying if I am giving up control. To surrender to the role that seems to echo soundly with my concience. I am a wife. I run this household. I stay home because he provides. And I love him, dearly.

Now don't get me wrong. I am no June Cleaver. But I am striving at every point in my day, to think about something I can do for Mark. Make him tea. Make him lunch. Tell him I love him. Clean the house, cook a meal, do the laundry- without complaint or calling attention to it.

For the rest of my life, this man is my companion. After the babies are gone, after I am old and wrinkled. I am his, he is mine. I want to cultivate the kind of love story my children will be proud to tell. No, this way is not the popular way. It has nothing to do with feminism...but it has everything to do with love. It has everything to do with happiness. And I'll take that over power any day.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Just a list

Yeah, I totally copied Dixie.

I am hungry and just asked Mark to make bacon and cheese grits. I won't eat them, but I love the smell.

Yesterday I bought out Costco. Whenever I am feeling insecure I stock my pantry and I feel better.

I really really hate my hair right now.

Tonight I want to wear a cute little dress I got from Old Navy, but it might be too cold. Bummer.

Lily has just the most awful cough. It hurts my heart.

Mark smells like a musk ox. But I love him.

I don't smell any better, frankly.

I love to do laundry, but I hate folding clothes.

I got all the laundry done yesterday!!! Woot woot!!!

My house is clean. I am going to enjoy the 3.5 seconds it stays that way.

The windows up here in the office are disgustingly dirty. Damn dog.

We went yesterday and looked at houses in Brunswick Forest. I fell in love with one that was 450, 000. Yeah, not happening. :(

I smell bad, but my toes look pretty. :)

Coffee is my friend.

I watched just a little bit of a infomercial about an abandoned baby center in Oklahoma this morning, and there was a tiny baby named Joshua. He was so tiny and precious. I spilled my coffee all over myself because I got caught up in his eyes.

Last week was tough, but I am tougher. And so is my God.

I am off to smell the bacon and eat cheerios.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009



I am here, right where you want me. I am at the end of myself. I know that is the best place to see the beginning of You, so here I am.

I have sought the entirety of myself, Lord. I have traveled the valley of my own soul. I have gone to great lengths to prove just how tough I am, how self sufficient. I have depended on no one, not even you.

And that has left me here, alone. Aching. I have not trusted you with the depths of my soul. I have been so afraid of what you would find there. That you would turn your back. That you would walk away.

So I have said the right words when I prayed. I have told you again and again that I love you. But I have not said what truly mattered God.

I am lost without you. I am careening without you. I am uterrly beyond myself, out in depths I cannot hope to survive.

So here it is, Lord. Here I am unvarnished.

I am angry. I am impatient. I am bitter. I am all the things I cannot stand in others, Lord. I hide it, but it is there, revealed to you for the first time.

I am a motherless child. I have lost my baby. I have no father to speak of. All of this makes me sad and disgusted and deeply disappointed.

But I am also you child. You said you would love me as I am, meet me where I am. I am asking you now to do just that. Meet me here, in the midst of my anger and pain. Come for me. Save me from myself. Save me from my own words and deeds that have more to do with my disappointment that with WHO I AM.

I cannot live half a life with you anymore lord. It is all or nothing now. It is all of me, offered up to you. Ugliness in ubandance. Sin after sin. Sadness and bitterness. Hopelessness. I lay it all before you, along with all of my joy and praise for your blessings.

Will you be the first Lord? Will you be the first to take it all up and accept it? Will you be the first to never walk away?

I cannot live anymore just trying to please you instead of burden you. I can't stop myself from showing you my brokeness any longer. I am broken. I am disappointed.

But I need you and all that you can give to me. I need to live each day for you, God. It's all I know how to do. So please, break me of my pride. Take the wall down, Lord. Seek out anything that seperates me from you and show me that I need to get rid of it. Seek out anything in me that is displeasing and help me overcome it.

Lord, I am depleted. I am thirsty. I am in the desert. Come, lead me out.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

I don't know how to do this.

I don't know how to be a mother.

I yell. I get frustrated. I am impatient. Sometimes, though I try really really hard, I am unkind. I look down at my child's upturned face, her little voice begging to be picked up and I just get angry. Can't she see I am trying to cook? Can't she see that I am busy? That I need space? That I need to be alone?

Then I remind she doesn't. She needs her mother. I am it for her. She has only me and Mark to rely on for love and security. I make up the lion's share of her world. It's just me most of the time.

It is an overwhelming task, a sweet burden, a heaviness that I will take until my last breath.

I want to know all the right things to do. I want to be all she needs. But I just don't know HOW. I don't have a clue. I've never seen it. And although I have gleaned from others the things I should do, it doesn't not make up for the void of the unknown.

I look ahead to the day she has her own child. Will she call on me? Will she want me and my knowledge? Will I have given her so much abundance of love and security that she will need me at that moment?

God willing.

I don't have the answers. Sometimes it brings me to tears how inadequate I am. But I love love love her. And I want for her to be happy. I never want her to be lonely. I never want her to have a sadness that I cannot mend.

I remember so clearly sitting on my bed, book on my lap. I was maybe 6. My mother was in the living room, but she wasn't truly there. My father was gone. It was the first time I felt what loneliness truly was. I cried all over my book. I smeared the pages. The room was hot and stifling and I was frozen by the knowledge that even if I went and searched out my mother for comfort, I would not find it.

I think of myself when I look at Lily. I think of all the potential I had that was ruined. I think of my six year old self and wish I could know for certain Lily will never feel that. Because God knows if she ever did my world would stop turning until I made sure it never happened again.

There are moments when I am so sure of myself. Then there are days like this, when I feel I am failing her over and over. When I am sad, and she knows it. When we are sick, and I am tired, and I don't have much to give.

Of all the failures I have had in my life, and there have been more than I want to admit or think of, I DO NOT want to fail at this one thing. I want her to know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she is treasured, cherished, loved, and wanted. I want her to never ever feel lost. I want her to never be at a loss adn looking for comfort. I want "mommy" to always be the first thing she thinks of when the world seems against her.

I don't know how to be a mother. But I know how to give, and how to love, and how to hold and snuggle. I know how it feels to not have. I know to look at her and know what she is feeling. I know when to sweep her up and carry her away from the world. I know when to let her be.

On days like this I can give her all of myself and hope that it is enough. And hope that tomorrow, I can do better.

Monday, March 16, 2009

That old longing..

It seems everyone around me is getting pregnant. In just the past two days two women I know have announced their pregnancies. And while I am happy for them (really, I am) my heart cannot help but plummet.

He would have been kicking me by now. I would have been showing. I would have been past the worst of the sickness. I would have seen his heartbeat.

Instead my body is empty. No kicking, no sickness. Just me.

Sometimes I feel so sad I cannot breathe. This is one of those times.

I cannot explain how I long. I can't put into words any of it. It sits like a rock in my chest. My throat catches, my eyes fill. The sadness bends me, but I will not break.

I love him still. I always will. I won't forget his spirit, the one I called to over and over. The one I begged to come to us. The one who did, for such a short time.

There is a purpose to my pain. There is a plan for me. It is my job to actively look for answers to why this has happened. I have to let it teach me.

But sometimes, I'll be honest, it just seems damn unfair.

I miss you, Joshua. Even though my body doesn't carry you, my mind and heart do. My soul calls to yours, just like it did before your conception. I will know you, forever, and I will never forget.

RIP old friend

This weekend, we experinced a loss in our family. Okay, I experienced it. Mark could care less other than to tell me to quit whining. Lily is clueless.

This beloved member of our family has been with me two years, through ups and downs. She has accompnied me in bedrest, floated with me in the bathtub while I was pregnant, recovering from birth, and just needed and escape. She has been with me while I was cooking, running, shopping, and relaxing. She has been my saving grace while I had a colicky baby screaming into my ear.

Last week, she suddenly gave out as I was running. I attributed it to temporary heart failure and thought she just needed a recharge. I was so very wrong. She has been in a constant state of near death ever since, and only works when hooked up to machines. I finally decided, after much thought and googling and not a few tears, to pull the plug last night.

The old girl will be missed sorely.

Rest in peace, my cherished Ipod. *sniff*

Sunday, March 15, 2009

For better or for worse...

Yes, I'm talking about married life.

It's what little girls sometimes dream about...the big white wedding, prince charming, and living life with romance and adoration.


Marraige is tough. It is bumpy. It is work.

But my oh my is it worth it when you have the right one. The one who makes you laugh. The one who understands your wierdness and semi tolerates it. The one who curls your toes and makes you go soft.

The one.

I was married before. It was definitely not right. It was a rash decision in a lifetime of chaos. He was the only person to say he would never leave me. I beleived him. I was a fool.

But he paved the way for Mark. He opened the door for the one I was always intended to know. No, it wasn't easy. We contended with family and cultural hurdles. We fought. We prayed together for God to break us up if that was what we should do. It didn't happen. We couldn't be apart.

I am not well aquainted with love. I am still learning as I go. I certainly don't have it all figured out, but I do know one thing- love is holding on, even when it is easier to let go. That's what it comes down to. That's what the union is about- steadfastness, committment, and tolerance.

I know alot of married people. I can't name one of them who has the roses and champagne marraige that we were taught as little girls to look forward to. But I do know what I DO have.

I have a husband who hands me a warm clean towel when I get out of the shower.

I have a man who rubs my feet, rubs my head, and is affectionate.

I have a man who tolerates my anger and temper.

I have a husband who cooks for me, who shares household chores.

I have a husband who adores his child and is a wonderful father.

I have a man who held my hand while the doctor told us our baby was gone, and who held me together in the weeks afterward.

I have a man who pays the bills, puts food on the table and provides everything we need.

I have a man who prays with me.

(I also have a man who farts in bed, smells questionable sometimes, can be distant, and is somewhat messy. Just keeping it real.)

Love isn't about the big things- its about a million small things. It's about love. It's about looking forward together. It's about taking on the world as a team.

I am beyond grateful that I have such a wonderful teammate.

Mark, thanks for sharing it all with me. Thank you for not giving up.

You complete me, Jarry McGuire style.

Saturday, March 14, 2009


Let me tell you a story.

Around 2 years ago, I was living the most lonely time of my life. I was in a city where I had made very few friends, I had a new baby, a husband who traveled, and I was feeling pretty low. I didn't leave the house for days sometimes.

It was just me, Lily, and the dog. Looking at each other.

Needless to say, I got pretty depressed.

The around Febuary of 08 I took Lily to the park. We were on the swings when I struck up a convo with another mom there. Her son was swinging alongside Lily, they were about the same age, and we commisserated about how our kiddos didn't sleep.

She began to tell me about the fitness class she taught. Just for moms. Kiddos welcome. All fitness levels welcome. She was so open and positive. I took a flyer and intended to go.

But life intruded. I lost the flyer. I didn't make it to the class. Then I went to a baby expo, and there she was again. This time I knew I was supposed to go. So I did.

The woman was Jody, owner of Stroller Strides. I cannot tell you the impact this has had on my life. I met other mommies. I worked out every single day. Lily made friends. My body shaped up and grew strong.

But it is my spirit that has been saved. I have been a loner my whole life. Circumstances have necessitated this. I have one lifelong friend and a smattering of others. This is the first time in my life that I have a large group of friends that love each other, support each other, and care about all of the big and small things going on in our lives.

When I first started with SS, I was weak from a year spent doing nothing. I couldn't jog a block. I couldn't go up a flight of stairs. I couldn't carry Lily for too long without puffing.

Oh how times have changed.

This is me this morning, after completing my first 5K. 5K!!! In the grand scheme of things, it is a small victory. But in my life, it is huge. I worked hard enough on my body to complete this. I worked hard enough on my spirit to go out and do a 5K without worrying if I was too fat or too out of shape. I walked, ran, jogged, and didn't worry about what anyone thought of me. I walked for my team, yes, but I also walked for ME. I counquered a thousand fears today.

My team is awesome. They are atheletes, mommies, and wives. They are good friends, good people, and role models.

Teamwork isn't just lipservice to these women.

They are sisters of my heart. GO TEAM STROLLER STRIDES!!!

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Walk with me

For the life of me, I will never understand some Christians. You know the ones- those that put up their noses at anyone and anything they consider "un-christian".

I wonder if these people have ever read the Bible. Ever read the story of the apostles, or of Jesus' ragtag group of followers. Criminals, thieves, prostitutes. Their lives were out of control, careening into chaos, until Christ came into their lives. HE was the difference. He was the factor that took them from where their own judgement had led them to a place where they simply laid down their lives and followed Him. He changed them. Irrevocably and immeasurably.

We are all put on a path from our birth. We choose our steps, we have free will. Some of us walk easily into the arms of God. Some of us take the hard road and scale mountains to get to a place where we can even SEE God. Some of us never arrive. God knows just how long it will take us. He knows every step we will take. He uses every valley, every foothill, and every stumble to teach us. We all have a journey that God has ordained.

In all my life, in all the religions I have participated in, I have never seen anyone come to Christ after he has been condemned. I have seen people flee church, however, after being criticized for their lifestyle and choices. Nothing drives people away like shame. You can't shame somebody into loving God. You can, however, love somebody into loving God. I've seen it. I've been that person.

Do you want to be a good christian? Live your life. Live each day to put a smile on God's face. Be kind. Be loving. Do for others. Offer your shoulder to somebody who is hurting. Deliver a meal to somebody who is having a rough week. Ask the right questions, the hard questions. LISTEN. And love.

And when somebody asks you why you do these things, tell them. Then watch as they take the message, and God begins to work in their life.

You can't drag somebody further along their path to God. But you can walk with them, scale the mountains with them, and make a campfire and sit with them in the valleys.

The journey to God is just as important as the destination. Enjoy the walk.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

In the quiet

Today has been a good day, full of friends and laughing with my Lily-girl. But after the house gets quiet and I am alone with my thoughts, I realize how sad I still am.

A friend of mine just had a baby yesterday- a little boy. I spent the whole day yesterday making a quilt for her new baby, not even knowing she was in labor. I spent so much time on it making sure it was perfect. I was happy to make something for this sweet new being, but I was also, in some small way, making it for Joshua. I couldn't help but shed a few tears after I saw it lying out this morning. It was so small, all done up in brown and green with monkeys.

I want to be filled with life again. I want to have the promise of a new baby. I want to feel my child growing under my heart.

Is it too soon? I don't know. Up until a week ago I didn't think I ever wanted to try for another baby. But I watched Mark with Lily and knew I couldn't deny them both a chance for a new family member just because of my fear. So I let my husband's words and wisdom into my heart and made a choice.

We will try again. But it will be on God's terms, not ours. No more ovulation tests, no more guessing at my most fertile time. Just Mark and I. It will happen when God wills it, not when we do.

It will never change the loss. It won't replace what was taken. But I have hope that healing will come just from the decision to pursue happiness.

I am a big fan of Kahlil Gibran, and as I was cleaning out my bedside table I came across my old and battered copy of The Prophet.

Kalil Gibran
on children

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

The last paragraph is particularly touching for me. Never have these words been more true or more applicable to my life.

In God's time, with God's will.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Sunday mornings...

Sundays used to be my favorite days, for a variety of reasons. I used to sleep in, used to wake up when I wanted, eat breakfast, and go back to bed and read. I used to lounge, and nap, and watch television.

My life these days has alot of used to's.

When I wake up these days, it is much earlier than I would like. Sometimes the sun isn't even up. Sometimes I want to roll over and just go back to sleep. But then I hear her little voice- "Maaaaamaaaaa where are youuuuuu?" and I am smiling and going to her.

And I see this face...oh this face. Sleepy, swollen with rest. Hair wild and crazy.

And she is mine. Some days it still seems like a dream. My baby girl, my Lily. She is here, and real. I feel like I have known her forever, have prayed for her and thought of her since I knew I wanted to be a mother.

And here she is, everything I have ever wanted.

I remember thinking before she was born, of all the things I would never get to do after I had her. All the places I wouldn't see. The traveling I wouldn't do. The things I would miss out on.

Turns out I was wrong. I have never, for a second since I had her, felt like I was missing out on anything. Let the world go on, let beautiful places go unseen before my eyes.

This face here...this is my Egypt, my Figi, my Europe. It is everything, everything, I could ever wish to see. It is everywhere I want to be.

Nothing could be as beautiful or as breathtaking.

From the first moment I saw her face...

To just this morning, watching her cuddle with Brooklyn in our bed....

nothing on this earth could be as beautiful.

So let the world go on. Let the rain fall. Let each day come and go.

Everyday is Sunday with my baby girl.