old story, fresh conviction

i wish i could take credit for this post. a friend recommended the book One Thousand Gifts by ann voskamp. i haven't started it yet, but ann's website and blogging have already begun blessing me. this is from her work, entitled "a Holy experience". may it touch you the way it has me.

When they ask for a story, I pull up blankets and cover them with words.

I pluck words out of thin air, the only way any story comes — the way the Word came.

Something from nothing, a gift handed down.

“Once upon a time…”

This will be one of those stories—  a possibility.

“Once upon a time, there was a baby.”

“Was I the baby? Is this about me?” Shalom sits up on her side of the bed, animated, pats my cheek in the shadows.

“No.” Not you as a baby, I say. “But this is a story about you.” About all of us, about our coming to.

I turn towards the window. The front porch light casts long shadows out across the lawn, out toward the woods. Snow’s falling.

Sky letting go of her down in the dark to blanket all the fields.

“Once upon a time there was a baby. And the baby was born into a family who was very lost. Lost in a spinning, dizzy world.” Shalom curls into me.

“And instead of journeying in the direction headed toward home, the family all stumbled and fumbled around, tripping over each other and grabbing at things found on the road, all these things. But things never help you find your way home.”

The moon gives away her light, soft white laying out across us too.

“The longer that they were lost, the hungrier they became.” Hope reaches over, lays her empty hand in mine.

“Brothers hid what food they found from their sister. Sisters hoarded what food they had and ate with backs turned so their brothers wouldn’t see. The family forgot that they were a family. They forgot they were one. They forgot they were all connected to each other, and when one ached, they all hurt — hurt in ways they didn’t even know.”

“But what about the baby?” Shalom squeezes my arm. “Was the baby hungry too?”

“Ah, no, the baby was not hungry. Because the baby was the one who gave away.” I’m turned toward the window.

The baby had given up the vaults of heaven to be born in the valley of a feed trough. The baby had made its bed the cradle, was the manger for the animals, the place where all the ones wandering in the fields came to be fed.

Born in Bethlehem, the town with the name that means house of bread, the baby came to feed all the lost ones. And we only have what we give away and all our hungry places are only fed by how we make our lives bread.

“But Mama —” She uses her hand to turn my face toward her and she says it so close I can feel it. “How does a baby feed anyone?” 

I don’t know if I’m still breathing.

Does she know who the Baby is?

“The baby fed the world because He made his life bread. He gave Himself away.” That’s what I whisper into the dark.

He gave up the heavens who were not even large enough to contain Him and let Himself be held in a hand.

He forsook the boundlessness of space and confined Himself to skin and He gave up the starfields and took on shape and wore the bones.

He gave up the River of the water of Life that flows from His Throne Room to float the nine months on the amniotic waters. And He who carved the edges of the Cosmos, He curved Himself into a fetal ball in the dark, tethered Himself to the uterine wall of a virgin, and let His cells divide, light all splitting white.

The mystery so large becomes the baby so small and infinite God becomes infant.

The Spirit took on shape and took the nails and took our sins and made Himself bread that all the empty ones could fill on the Bread of Life.
“The story of Christmas is about a baby who came for the greatest give-away ever.”

This is what I tell my daughters laying there in the dark, looking up at stars.

Love that gave — but not to those who loved Him.

Love that gave — but not to those who could give back.

Love that gave  — to those who were the poor, the bankrupt, the enemies.

Love that gave to the thief who stole instead of waiting to receive… the thief who grasped instead of longing to give.

Love that gave to me.

Hope’s breathing softly, but so awake.

“And I don’t know… ” I am telling the story now to me.  Why is the world hungry when God’s people have bread? Are bread? What is there more to be in this life than to be bread for another man?”

My own selfishness makes me hurt.

“I think that’s what we should call Christmas from now on…” Hope’s turned to the window now, out toward the world:

“Let’s rename Christmas — The Great Give-Away.”

“Isn’t that why the baby came? For God so loved, He gave… ”

What if the Christmas Story became the Great Give-Away — in honor of the baby who gave it all?

The three of us lay looking out at the fields.

This story has possibility….

The sky , it’s giving away her white warmth for all the world.

looking back

i have been reading some of my first few posts. it's funny looking back, knowing where i was emotionally at the time, watching the transition. i can see where i started this blog just for fun, how God started working in my life, and how writing became an outlet for me to express my feelings. i talk about my sadness. i talk about the things He teaches me. i talk about my husband and family. and gradually, as i read through the months, i can see how He worked His perfect plan. there are months i didn't write much; i remember being in such a dark place that i couldn't even bear to try to put words to the emotions. there are other times i write about "fluff", the silly parts of life that make me laugh. i think part of this was me trying to cope, some of it is just happiness, and a little bit of it was me avoiding the lessons God had for me. and then there are the lengthy posts, the ones where God showed me a part of Himself and His love for me that i had never seen before...i was so taken that i couldn't stop writing. all of it is just a reflection of me and what God is doing in my life.

peanut butter and tears

our son will be here in a matter of weeks. that completely and totally blows my mind. i find myself alternately laughing and crying with the emotion of it all. it's quite overwhelming, and not just because i am scared to death to be responsible for this tiny little boy inside of me.

God's goodness overwhelms me. "thankful" doesn't even begin to convey what i feel...so the tears and laughter overflow in place of words. when i think about the ways God has dealt with my heart over the last several years, i am overtaken by the power of the grace He has shown. there have been times i was untrusting, times i was living in opposition to His holiness, and times i have been angry and sinful. through some of these times, He has "jerked a knot in my tail", as my mother would say. He has used others in my life, used circumstances and scripture, to grab my attention in a way that wouldn't let me continue to be disobedient. those times were painful and necessary, and i am so thankful that God called me out and helped me see that my way was the wrong way.

other times, He has dealt with me more gently. when my heart has been fragile, when i was seeking forgiveness and reassurance, when i was crying out for the heavenly Father i knew i so desperately needed, He was kind and loving and ready with arms outstretched. when my world was collapsing in on me, when i couldn't see His plan, when the sadness overwhelmed me, He was tender and continued to seek my heart, never giving up.

through all of my life, He has pursued me with a passion that i still don't fully realize. He pursues each of us this way, whether we know it or not. He longs for us to understand His love for us, in times of pain and in times of joy. and He will do whatever it takes to get our attention. just like any other parent, this sometimes involves discipline. other times, i think He sits back and just enjoys watching us marvel at the blessings He provides.

i'm sure i will require more discipline as i walk through this life. but right now, i am fully immersed in the marvel stage. i am so thankful for His mercy, for His grace, for His deliverance from the pain and sadness, for being rescued from the crippling fear. i am in awe of what He has done to win my heart; He sent His only Son to die for me on the cross, to take the punishment for sin that i so deserve. and even when i have spit in the face of that amazing gift, He has continued to love me unwaveringly. He has even gone so far as to forgive me, over and over. and He has somehow seen fit to bless me unbelievably. this baby i will soon meet, our little brooks...i will never understand how he has come to be, how i have been allowed to be his mother, how God has chosen to heal what everyone said would never work. none of it makes sense. and yet all of it is a part of His plan for my life. the magnitude of the gift of this child i carry is more than my mind can comprehend. but i am thankful beyond words.

and so i sit and cry on my couch. i laugh as i take a shower. and i cry over my peanut butter and jelly sandwhich. i just can't believe He loves me this much. but He does. and He loves you that much too.

from a thankful heart

i don't know how it is You looked at me
and saw the person that i could be
awakening my heart, breaking through the dark
suddenly Your grace

like sunlight burning at midnight
making my life something so beautiful, beautiful
mercy reaching to save me, all that i need
You are so beautiful, beautiful

---francesca battistelli---

with God, nothing is impossible

our baby boy is growing. every day we get closer and closer to what so many said was impossible: a healthy, normal baby. i remember so clearly the day we were told that not having children was something we should "think about". i remember being told that there was a 100% chance our baby would be severely premature ("we might be able to get you to 28 weeks"). i remember telling myself that i was ok with never being able to conceive. and later, i remember asking God to please allow us to conceive and carry a child. after today's ultrasound, jeremy said, "it's hard to believe that after all of this we are going to have a healthy, normal baby." i feel the same way. it's so hard to believe it's happening.

but that's exactly what we and so many others have prayed for. and so far, that's exactly what God is giving us. imagine that...praying for God's will and seeing it happen before your very eyes. it's so amazing to watch it unfold. this has been a long pregnancy, but we have been blessed to see God's plan and His work unfold slowly, week by week. some weeks we have questioned Him; others we have boldly declared our trust in His goodness. every second of this precious child's life has been a gift to us, and we continue to ask Him for more. more time with brooks and with each other. we're not being greedy; but we are praying for even more of the goodness God has shown us, for even more of His blessings. we want everything He has prepared for us, and God's word says to ask for all of it.

it's hard to believe, but it's true. our little boy is healthy. our hearts are overflowing. please continue to pray for God's hand in all three of our lives.

big prayers

"everything looks normal".

after the doctor said this, we blinked. there was silence. she smiled. we smiled. i cried.

we weren't expecting normal. after all my talk of trusting God, praying for what our hearts desire, asking for His hand in our lives, i still wasn't expecting normal. i had prayed for it (sort of, timidly, in a doubtful kind of way...), and there is no doubt that it is my heart's desire for a normal, healthy baby. but i hadn't expected it.

and yet, God gave us more than what we expected. again. it amazes me every time.

over lunch with my mother-in-law, amid giddy grins and giggles at the blessing we have been given, i admitted that i hadn't prayed "big enough". she smiled at me and said, "i did!" we have received cards from prayer rooms in churches we don't attend, emails from people we barely know, texts full of God's promises through scripture from our life group teacher, and countless hugs, phone calls, and encouragement from people all saying the same thing: our God is great and we are praying for His great hand in the life of your precious son and in your hearts. i have never fully understood the whole "power of prayer" line; i do now. these prayers, these people, we feel it every day. and not just because God is blessing us. prayer is making a difference in our day-to-day lives, even on the tough days, especially on the tough days. we feel covered in God's love, His grace, and we know that He continues to work a mighty, mighty plan in our lives and in my body. it is so far beyond anything that we dared to hope for, so much better than anything we could have dreamed for ourselves, so miraculous and so beyond our control.

i am trying to remember to pray big. God expects it! it takes trust to pray big, something that doesn't come easily for me. i am so thankful that the people in our lives have the courage to pray big, that they are selfless enough to intercede to God on our behalf, and that He is blessing their faithfulness by showing up in our lives in an huge way.

i believe in the power of prayer. i believe in it because i have come to better know and understand the One to whom we pray. He is Almighty, Everlasting, my Prince of Peace and my Shelter in the storms. He hears us when we call and loves us more than we could ever imagine. there is none more powerful, none more praiseworthy, and none other to whom i will ever pray.

those crazy in-laws

i have a great family. they understand me (usually) and love me unconditionally. it's rare to find that with in-laws. stereotypically, they are awful. the beast of a mother-in-law, the cranky sister-in-law, the bratty kids, and let's not forget the crazy, gruff, and unlovable father-in-law.

lest i make them gasp any louder, let me say that these descriptions do not apply to my in-laws. don't get me wrong...we have had our moments...but God has blessed me by allowing me to be a part of this family and i am thankful for their love and friendship.

recently, God blessed me specifically through them. it's rare that i leave an interaction with our nieces and nephew feeling anything other than happy and loved, but friday evening was a rare glimpse into their hearts, into the people they will turn out to be and into the hearts of those who have raised them to be that way.

it started with a birthday party. there was taco salad and a tiny slice of spider man cake for me (delicious!). as usual, uncle jj performed magic tricks (which lily and luke loved and which caused skeptical little scarlet to turn up her nose), presents were opened, and after spider man had climbed onto his new fire truck, everyone began heading for home. since i had nothing better to do, i decided to hang out for a while and propped my hugely swollen feet up on the couch.

instantly, my brother-in-law, mark, and sister-in-law, tara, made faces of pain mixed with sadness. and then i realized they were looking at my feet. i jokingly suggested that perhaps one of them wanted to rub my feet (you have to understand...i do not have feet that smell like roses...). the first one to jump at that wonderful opportunity was tara. she sat right down, put my feet in her lap, and began in kindness what turned out to be an hour and a half foot massage. yes...an hour and a half. for free. it was amazing. mark made lots of sympathetic comments along the way, encouraging tara to continue massaging the swelling out of my feet. she finally stopped only when she said she could feel my bones again. i will never be able to repay such selflessness.

during all of this fantastic foot-rubbing, the kids took over the massaging of my heart. we have a big ultrasound tomorrow and this week has been tough for us emotionally. i was glad to be at their house, but wasn't feeling especially cheery or happy. all three kids started their care for me by showering my huge belly with loving pats, little kisses, and lots of conversation with brooks. they told him how much they loved him, they asked about his growth and where he was in my belly, they asked about what he's doing in there. we laughed as i struggled to come up with answers to questions i ask regularly. luke, the youngest, alternately played with his new toys and hugged my belly while lily, the middle child, made a nest at my side, talked sweetly to brooks, and patted my hand during my foot massage.

scarlet, the oldest, not to be outdone by her mother, shared with me that head massage was her specialty. i, of course, requested a demonstration, and while she brushed my hair and scratched my head she started asking me questions. she started with, "what did you do as a child?" i had to ask for clarification, which she gave, saying that she was trying to "get to know her ancestors". this cracked me up and after i explained that i was not an ancestor (ancestors are dead...this was my reasoning...), we started chatting about my childhood. she wanted to know what i did in school, what games i played with my sister, what i did to get in trouble, how my parents acted, and what books i liked to read. this went on for about 30 minutes, and afterward she looked me in the eyes and said so sincerely, "thank you aunt jenn. i am so glad i was able to get to know you better." as i was leaving she said, "i sure will miss you."

i got in my car feeling much less swollen and lighter in spirit. these people made me feel loved, cared for, and beyond special. i will always remember that night, and i will tell brooks about how aunt tida, uncle mark, and his three crazy cousins spent time loving him before he was even born. God has blessed me through all of my husband's sweet family, but this was a special time of healing for me, one that i am thankful i took the time to enjoy.