Unplug

I'm making the decision to unplug for a season.  I'm not sure how long or how much, but for now it is the wisest decision for me.  So don't be alarmed if I seem to be clueless as to the latest happenings or you can't find me on Facebook (I didn't de-friend you!).

Paths of righteousness

"He restores my soul.  He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake." Psalm 23:3

The Shepherd often does restore my soul through the familiar words of Psalm 23.

When, like a sheep, I am discontent, directionless, and distraught, he makes me lay down.  He leads me.  He restores me.  When I have strayed from him, he seeks me out and brings me back to the throne of grace.

When doubts invade and fears prevail, he comforts me.  He whispers truth of the hope to come and help I have.

When decisions need to be made, he shows me the way.  That's the way it works: the shepherd leads, the sheep follow.  What grace today to be reminded that the Lord is my shepherd and that he leads me in the right way - "in paths of righteousness."  Whether I'm straying or simply confused, he knows not only my good is at stake, but his reputation.

"For his name's sake."  

Jesus was not lying when he said, "I am the good shepherd" (John 10:11, emphasis mine).  He did lay down his life for us, after all.  He knows how to restore, direct, discipline, and provide for his sheep.

What grace to be his, silly and senseless sheep that I am.

"Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever.  Amen."  Hebrews 13:20-21

Pillows and preschool

Source 

Pillows and preschool.  Those are things on my mind these days.  As January seems to be flying past, I am caught in the tension of living today and needing to plan ahead.  Soon we will transition Haddon to a new room, so little sister can occupy the bedroom nearest to us; admittedly, I'm excited to begin gathering girly nursery ideas and also planning out big boy space for brother.  I found the pillow above here and will either buy one or make something similar for Anna.  I thought it was fitting, as it has been my anthem and God's continual reminder that unless He builds our house, we labor in vain (Psalm 127:1).  

I have also been thinking about preschool.  Our boy will turn four this year and to this point we have chosen not to enroll him in any kind of program.  We are prayerfully considering what the fall will hold, when he will begin kindergarten (since he is in that gray September window, and that could play a role in when/how we do preschool), and things like this.  With registrations fast approaching it feels like we need to have made a decision yesterday.  

A while ago I came across a quote by J.C. Ryle (a 19th century English pastor and writer), and today I went searching for it again - as the weight of decisions as small as nursery colors and fabric and as big as how to educate my precious ones seemed as heavy as the weight of the world for some reason.  I thought maybe someone else could use it too:

“Precious, no doubt, are these little ones in your eyes; but if you truly love them, then often think about their souls. Nothing should concern you as greatly as their eternal destiny. No part of them should be so dear to you as that part which will never die.“This is the thought that should be uppermost on your mind in all that you do for your children. In every step you take about them, in every plan, and scheme, and arrangement that concerns them, do not leave out that mighty question, ‘How will this affect their souls?’“A true Christian must not be a slave to what’s currently ‘in-fashion,’ if he wants to train his child for heaven. He must not be content to teach them and instruct them in certain ways, merely because it is customary, or to allow them to read books of a questionable sort, merely because everybody else reads them, or to let them form bad habits, merely because they are the habits of the day. He must train with an eye to his children’s souls. He must not be ashamed to hear his training called odd and strange. What if it is? The time is short—the customs of this world are passing away. He that has trained his children for heaven, rather than for the earth—for God, rather than for man—he is the parent that will be called wise in the end.”~ J.C. RyleThe Upper Room, “The Duties of Parents”, [Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth, 1970], 289, 290.

Lord, may every plan and scheme and arrangement that concerns our little ones include that mighty question, "How will it affect their souls?"  

Our 2011 (Continued)

Putting our 2011 into words ended up being more difficult than I thought, but it is year I don't want to forget.  So here is the rest of the recap, if you caught the first part.  

After the whirlwind move and travel for school and a wedding, we commenced settling in to a new routine in a different house and new neighborhood.  We met neighbors who we instantly liked and had been praying for for months, even before we knew who they would be.  Some walls were painted and boxes unpacked.  An inflatable pool in the backyard became a place to cool off and watch airplanes zoom overhead. (To the thrill of Haddon's heart, we're close enough to the airport that small planes regularly fly over.)

June also brought the first round of tests to confirm if there were obvious problems preventing subsequent pregnancies for us.   Beginning to lean toward adoption, we wanted to rule out simple issues before closing the door on pregnancy.  A lot of emotion and lessons are tied up in these short, undescriptive paragraphs - I wish I could put it all down, but that's for another day.  To make a long story very short, a test was ordered to see if there were blockages preventing conception, and the results - scar tissue from the miscarriage.  Too much of it to even complete the test.  Oddly enough, four days later, an exam with my OB revealed completely different results - nothing.  Another test was ordered for the next cycle, one that would eventually agree with my OB.  Hmm.  Another post for another day!  What to make of it?  "Unexplained secondary infertility" and/or a miracle.

And so we carried on with our July and played and laughed and went to the lake with friends we labored alongside of in Alabama earlier in the summer.

The rest and fellowship did our hearts a lot of good. Watching my sweet husband try to ski did my heart more good.  :)

By the end of summer our hearts were set completely on adoption.  We wanted an orphan to find shelter in our home someday, and we figured God was telling us it would be sooner rather than later.  Decisions were made and before we knew it we were full swing into planning and scheduling home studies and saving every penny.  The car was finally fixed and the bill was high.  We agreed that after it was home and in our driveway we'd rather drive it off a cliff  get rid of it than risk more problems, so we sold not only that one but our other car and bought a different one, becoming a one car family for a time in order to ease adoption expenses and save.

August brought another round of class for Matt, but this time Haddon and I joined him for a few days.  We caught up with friends and had a fun day at the zoo.  August always brings a new semester, with familiar as well as new faces gracing our lives every Sunday.  A new semester also brought another opportunity for Matt to teach a class on campus, a great joy for us to be able to meet more students and be a part of the campus that has meant so much to us.

September brought much excitement, as our big boy blew out THREE birthday candles.  At three he is full of little boy energy, never stops talking, and daily fills our hearts with so much joy.  

In September we also scheduled our home study and began to really grow in anticipation for adding to our family through adoption.  With friends and family on board, we anxiously waited to see what God had in store.  My niece (who is more like a little sister) also got engaged! 

And then.

The little plus sign we had been waiting for (and waiting for...) appeared in the window, and just like that, 2011 looked very different.  Shocked - excited, but shocked - we took a few days to digest the information.  We called the doctor and immediately began testing blood levels, etc.  Our home study, which was scheduled for a week following the positive test, was postponed.  So many questions, so much fear, but we knew we could trust the Lord.  

As the pregnancy seemed to progress on target and a seven week ultrasound provided a glimpse into the secret and a tiny beating heart reassured us, we were forced to put our adoption plans on hold (per our agency and the country we were working with).  Even amid the absolute joy of answered prayers, it was bittersweet to turn our eyes from those waiting children who needed family's of their own; but we knew the Father would care for them then, and now we pray that another year to come will be one that welcomes one of the least of these into our hearts and home.  

October and most of November were a blur of nausea and fatigue, though I truly was thankful for it.  Early October brought my 10 year high school reunion and we took our first family camping trip.  Haddon was a lion for trunk-or-treating, where he had fun with his friends mining car trunks for candy.  

November brought some relief to pregnancy symptoms and some freedom from the fear that threatened to steal my joy.  I celebrated my last birthday in my twenties and I tagged along to a conference with Matt for some solo husband-wife time to process the turn life had taken (with some Ikea thrown in for fun!)  Thanksgiving weekend was full of food, family, and friends.  We headed to Bloomfield for a short but fun-filled day with some of our favorite people on the planet who we don't get to see nearly enough these days.  The next day Matt headed back to seminary for his last week of classes for the year.

December brought some typical December things: Advent celebrating, Christmas preparation and decorating, fun gatherings, and gift crafting...

 

...and some not so typical December things, like finding out that our little unexpected one was a GIRL!  Seeing her via ultrasound again at around 15 weeks was the best gift we could have hoped for.  On Christmas morning I opened a wonderful keepsake, marking the "official" naming of our sweet girl, a necklace representing so many answered prayers and a hundred faith lessons from 2011.  She is baby Anna, by the way.  ;)

There is so much more to remember from 2011, but those are the highlights.  Our heads are still spinning a bit from all of the transition - mostly wonderful ones - but we are settling in and continuing to look ahead to what 2012 will hold. 

Our 2011 (Part 1)

After reading several year-in-review blog posts I was inspired to try to put our 2011 into words.  It wasn't easy, partly because of my memory and partly because of the whirlwind that was 2011 for us.  Since my blogging was less than consistent in the midst of it, though, I decided to try to fit it into this space for the future (when my memory is even worse!).

In January 2011 we were up to our elbows in home projects and final preparations for listing our first little house in the country for sale.  We remodeled a bathroom and touched up paint.  Clutter found new space at Goodwill and a storage unit.  Matt began his doctoral studies at the seminary and celebrated a birthday.  We prayed that the year ahead would include a fourth member of our family, somehow.  

February brought continued plans to sell the house and by the end of the month it was officially on the market.  While we waited for interest, we spent lots of time playing and looking forward to spring.  We also began seriously discussing and researching the adoption process.

March came and we marched into action, it seems.  Matt took students to Fargo for a week, while Haddon and I stayed home to hold down the fort.  That week we got to hang with some precious friends and have one last hang out on Morehead Road.  

The weather improved and so did our cabin fever.  The first week of spring, after only five weeks on the market, and two viewings, our house was officially "under contract;" it was super exciting for five minutes, and then terrifying.  We assumed it would take longer to sell, and really hadn't gotten in a hurry to find a replacement home.  Visions of homelessness and doubt crept in, as the roller coaster that was to come raced uphill.  

The houses we had slight interest in before our house sold suddenly evaporated when we actually began looking seriously (with a serious closing deadline, too).  One failed negotiation and another failed contract later, our faith was fragile.  April came and felt very full of temporal things demanding our attention.  Suddenly our real home in heaven seemed much more secure and precious.  We knew we would find something - and we did - but the process tried us and left us very thankful that our real estate agent was a good and trusted friend.  

April also meant Easter celebration and marked the passing of a year since we first knew the heartache of a still ultrasound screen.  Even as we searched for a new place to live, my heart ached for more children to fill it.  We did treasure the last days and weeks at our old address, the place we brought our sweet boy home to and watched him pass so many milestones.  

April went out like a lion, not in our personal lives, but in the history of our country, particularly the south.  Historic tornadoes ripped through Alabama and surrounding states, leaving death and destruction in their wake.  The first Sunday in May we heard news that the Disaster Relief team from our church was heading into the devastation to bring aid and Jesus, and our hearts were compelled to go, even though we were not certified "DR" people; after so much time spent thinking about where to live, it seemed refreshing and appropriate to help families who had lost everything.  It was a sobering reminder that our lives are a vapor and that houses built by hands can literally be gone with the wind.  

We were blessed beyond measure by those long-working, but short-lived days amid flattened houses and deflated hearts in Alabama.  Friendships deepened and fellowship was strong as we worked side by side with fellow Hopers and with other brothers and sisters from the Kentucky Baptist DR and the Alabama Christians, light in the midst of darkness.  The families our chainsaw team served as we cleared ancient trees and scattered debrie will forever be etched on my mind and our hearts.  This special time was truly a highlight of 2011 for me, though it represents the heartache of a lifetime for so many others.  

And then the rest of May.  It was crazy.  We closed on one house and waited for the closing of another, in town and an answer to prayer.  We packed.  We moved.  Two days later, Matt headed to seminary for a week for his first round of seminars and colloquium.   After a few solo days in the new abode, Haddon went to Mimi's and I attempted to follow the next day.  Then our car broke, beginning a two month process of various mechanics figuring out precisely what was wrong and ending in a very large repair bill.  

Haddon the ring bearer, only happy with an iPhone

After the move, there was a flurry of unpacking and settling in, plus a wedding (Matt's brother), and some medical testing to determine why we had failed to conceive thrown in for fun.  And...with that I'll leave you in suspense and say TO BE CONTINUED.  :)

She

As all of you probably are, we're celebrating the coming Christmas at our house.  We have been celebrating advent as a family, praying that the wonder of Jesus' birth would capture our hearts more than just new things.

Last year the Christmas season was a special comfort to my heart as God spoke truth deep down into my longing: "I have not left you as orphans.  I have come for you."  Remembering the gift of His Child also softened the grief for one of ours.  This year we are reminded in a new way that God is in the business of miracles, that long waits reveal the Father's faithful love and perfect timing, and that Emmanuel is our daily hope.  

Into all of these truths enters the next chapter of our little story.  "It" - this little life we longed for and who took us by surprise - is a "SHE."  We are beyond thankful and as she begins to tell me she is there in flutters and tiny kicks (instead of some intense sickness!), I am praying daily to trust her Creator and mine in new ways, taking one day at a time.

The Sweetest Gift

Yesterday marked my 29th year of life, and for this life I am deeply thankful. The gifts of God in my life are innumerable and immeasurable. The sweetest gift He has given me this year is the understanding of my desperate need for Him in every.single.moment. In a year (mostly) defined by waiting - for the blessing of another child - He has given much more than that; for He knows my heart can only be truly satisfied by Himself - and Himself saw to it that this lesson be learned.

Susannah Spurgeon, wife of Charles Spurgeon, said it this way, "Not Thy gifts, nor Thy grace, nor even Thy glory, could satisfy the desire of a soul which Thou hast made to long for Thyself. Thou, the Giver of all other precious things, art Thyself the choicest, the "unspeakable" gift! Lord, into the thirst of my empty heart pour the full stream of Thy living love! Give me Thyself, or I die!"*

This year God has also given me the gift of waiting. A gift, truly, though in raw moments I was more apt to count it a curse. This blog post by Paul Tripp gave me courage in my waiting, especially these words: "Waiting is one of God's most powerful tools of grace. It's important to realize in your ministry that God doesn't just give us grace for the wait. The wait itself is a gift of grace. You see, waiting is not only about what you will receive at the end of the wait. Waiting is about what you will become as you wait." God has given me the gift of heart transformation in our wait.

Finally, a gracious and merciful Creator has given the gifts of healing and LIFE. Today, as though a belated birthday blessing, my eager ears heard the fluttering of a strong and beautiful beating heart, tucked away within me! Joy unspeakable. The Defender of the fatherless is also the Mender of the broken heart; our adoption plans are on hold for now and this precious one is expected for arrival May 30, 2012. We are taking one day at a time, rejoicing in His perfect plans and entrusting the days and months ahead to His wisdom.

Mrs. Spurgeon said it better than I ever could:

"But Thine hand, precious Savior, can work prompt de­liverance; it takes Thee but an instant to accomplish that which has baffled all our best efforts...Ah! thank God that the joy of uplifting compensates so richly for the sorrow of a season of discouragement...Do not let us dread any sorrow which the Lord may bring upon us; it is only when, by our own sin or willfulness, we fall into grief, that we need fear the consequences; for when our Lord casts us down, or lifts us up, both experiences are blessings,-the one in grim disguise, the other in all the brightness of revealed love and pity...It is the beginning of a glad uplifting when we realize that there is nothing impossible to our God, and that, however low we may be brought, His saving love is more than equal to the task of reaching and restor­ing us."* (Excerpts from A Basket of Summer Fruit: Chapter 10)

"For he wounds, but he binds up; he shatters, but his hands heal." Job 5:18

*For more Susannah Spurgeon (which I would highly recommend you do!) go to this "Dust and Ashes" website; you have to sign up with your email, but then have access to many free and exclusive books, including a few works by Mrs.Spurgeon.